#gonna live in my daydreams and my fics I keep to myself

[nothingtoblue]

me looking at the Gorai ao3 tag: Can the angst not be ‘one of them died’ FOR 5 MINUTES

[minhypen]

ANNOUNCEMENT

sooooooooo i'm here to say something after thinking a lot on it. but before that i'd like to apologise. to my blossom anon, because i couldn't post the minki compilation. the rough draft is ready but i couldn't expand it last week because my dad got hospitalised unexpectedly. i was busy cooking for my mom as she stayed in the hospital with him and only today, did my schedule get cleared up when he got discharged. but, even other than that, i promised a lot of things not just to dia but also to you guys but never actually got round to writing them. it mainly has to do with the lack of time after i started college, but even before that, i struggled to focus and procrastinated a lot and that's completely on me. i'm sorry. now for my main message, i think i'm gonna stop writing. this is a big decision, so hear me out a bit. around the beginning of 2023 was when i first created minyoung in my old diary. the year 2022 was the year i came to completely hate my real life, and imagining about minyoung was my only escape. which was why i'd spend more time daydreaming rather than planning or writing. then in 2023, my life got so bleak and boring due to my gap year after high school when i stayed at home, and my routine consisted of waking up, helping around the house, studying and nothing else. and that continued till september this year, when i finally started college. college was the fresh start that i'd always been waiting for, but didn't realise. and now, even though things aren't the best, i'm starting to enjoy life more and wanting to spend more time on improving myself in my studies and career. i've been sitting down on my laptop since this morning, trying to write, but my mind keeps itching to work on my seminar notes instead, even though i've blocked off enough time for all of it. so i'm just gonna follow my heart and mind, and focus on what excites me, because writing for minyoung doesn't seem to anymore (even though, i've barely just started). my account and dia's blog stay on blr without a doubt, and i will come on here to read fics probably, but i won't be posting till i feel like it yet. sorry for everyone who was hoping for the next chapter, but it's not gonna be out anytime soon. and for my own good, i hope i never feel the need for this escape in my life again, because unlike other writers here on tumblr who write as a hobby, writing is just a distraction for me that swayed my away from my real life goals. wishing everyone who sees this and knows me, the best, because y'all have been nothing but sweet to me. i wish you all find what you need in your life, and live to the fullest. i love you all so much. this is not goodbye, so come talk to me in my inbox or ask for my discord if you'd like to keep in touch. i'll answer my asks tonight <3 much love, your moonie.

[drowninginblox]

Thoughts on Fit's Last QSMP stream- spoilers ahead

It is Thursday, May 23rd, 2024. 2:36pm EST when writing. And I am disappointed in myself. Not for anything Fit, the server, the admins, or anyone besides me has done.

I hoped. And once again, I am expectedly crushed. I had a feeling that Fit would take himself out of the equation in the way he did. There would be no Pac Camio (ghost or living), no sight of Ramon either. Just business, as Fit is one to do.

But god did I hope for something out of a fanfiction. The biggest contenders were Pac's ghost or a hallucination speaking to Fit at the bottom of that damn hole to prep and escort him to the afterlife where everyone was waiting for them. OR the idea that Fit, after returning to the island, would kill himself in a similar but unique way to Pac and Mike. Regardless, neither happened. But I am very happy in what I witnessed.

I won't get into too much there will be vod watchers who accidentally stumble into Tumblr- to which I tell you, GO WATCH THE DAMN VOD.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed the Fit abused in-game mechanics to justify his survival down there. However, it calls into question whether or not he took up cannibalism again (writers you know what to do) in which I digress cus that a conversation within itself. I also appreciated that Fit made the effort to check up on more people other than just Pac and Ramon. It sounds like "Yeah, ofc." but let us remember that most of us (and I could be wrong) are shippers, and our yearning for Hideduo kind of blindsided the other relationships q!fit has. (This applies to me to just so yall know)

What fit did to justify or at least give credence to Ramon's character was sweet and I really hope we get some Ramon-centric fics about the possibility of his survival in an otherwise abandoned world, similar to his father. I may do that on my own but definitely not today. Mr. Fit Em See fucking wrecked me and I really could use some fluff right now. Whether it be at my own hand or someone else's, I could not care less.

Hueveitos, we are all going through it. And I bet on all the money I have that Twitter is going insane, Tumblr is dying, and Fit is either taking a well-deserved break or laughing his ass off at us. Probably both knowing that fucker. The brilliant bitch he is. I apologize for not liveblogging, I was enamored with what was going on. But we all were lol

Anyway, I'm probably gonna listen to the music Fit included in the finale and daydream of better days for q!Fit. Ones where, maybe, in another life, something happened on Madagascar's end where the tech didn't work and Fit was suspended in the QSMP for the rest of his natural life. Maybe Ramon is fine enough and just wondering, looking for Fit in an otherwise empty world. Hell, in another life, Pac waited longer for his American boyfriend. Maybe everyone did. Maybe the kids didn't get sick, maybe they all died a week or so after they were found. Who knows!

But with what we were given, and who we had to spend that time with, I know that I'll always look back on the Qsmp in a similar vein to another sorry sap of a sever I know. The memories will persist, the story will continue to be told. The world will keep spinning, and I will keep writing.

Thank you to everyone who was involved in the experience whether it be seen or unseen admin, CC's who somehow found this post on a hellcite, any and all fandom goers that I have stumbled upon in search of solace from the canon, and my girl over discord! I DON'T KNOW YOU AT ALL BUT YOU'VE HELPED ME GET THROUGH THE LAST LEG OF THIS JOURNEY!!

Here's to tomorrow everyone, regardless of what happens! I love this community and I sure as shit hope you guys don't become strangers!

[holdmytesseract]

* reads the Tumblr morning paper, section: "The Vest Stays On" with a stoic straight face while mentally giggling, screaming and setting myself on fire *

I loved this ! OMG ! Daryl Daryl Dixon, boy you never fail to kill shot me with your crossbow, you adorably grumpy cupid. 🖤

This is flawless darling! The perfect mix of sweet and sexy and yes the darn vest stays on ! Oh my ! My heart crashed and flew through the window! I adore your writing style! How you portray him, the scenario and the mutual feelings and emotions crossing both.

The scene pure sexy and a desperate love reunion with soft romance tones, even being smoking hot. * pulls a fake cigarette to my mouth (I don't smoke in real life btw, sometimes I wish I did, LOL, just because of all the fic reading and plus, Daryl smoking is a tease *

How am I supposed to function at work today ? On a early Monday morning daydreaming about this moody biker?!?! (⁠♡⁠ω⁠♡⁠ ⁠)✧⁠*⁠。

If we pray for an apocalypse do we get him as an apology for everything going around the world ?

Thank you dearest for hyping my day with this ! I finally got the chance to read it (sorry I'm becoming a slow reader lately). As always, I love your work ! Every single character and fic. ♥️

This was sooooo good of a story, I was gonna comment under it, but the reply got so big I thought sending it here would be better. >\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\< *very shy*

If I could I'd let you choose any order from the coffee shop I work, and it would be on the house for you. :3

Hope you have a good week ! 🍀✨🩶

PS.: * this was me mentally *

Friend, I... I am positively STUNNED and absolutely SPEECHLESS! This ask definitely made my day! Thank you SO SO much from the bottom of my heart! This means the world to me, honestly! 🥹🤍

I'm very glad he could kill shot you and managed to tickle your nerve ends, tehe. 😉🔥

I love the mix of sexy and sweet, ngl. Happy to hear you do love it, too! And I must add, that I am not always able to write such smutty stuff, but this just happened and I'm super glad it did, 'cause it managed to thrill so many people - including you! 🥰

Friend, let me tell you... I don't smoke either, but Daryl smoking is just SO hot. I caaaan't... 🫠 My personal HC: He loves a smoke after sex. 👀

I am sorry Daryl troubles your mind now, but also I feel very proud and happy about this, tehehehe. 🤭

Yes. I'd say we do get him as an apology. I mean... 👀 I wouldn't care to live in TWD as long as I get that man, lol.

And please don't apologise for slow reading! It's totally okay! No pressure at all! The fact alone that you decided to read my stuff makes me super super happy. 🤍

I wanna hug you real bad right now, because ahhh you're SO sweet and kind. 🥹 Again, thank you from the very bottom of my heart. I love that you sent me this ask. It makes me incredibly happy! And especially, it motivates me to keep on writing. To write more and to give you happiness with my stories again. 🤍

Awwweeee omg, really? 🥹 You're the sweetest! I hope you have a good week, too! Next Daryl fic is coming, I promise! 🏹

AND NOW LEMME HUG YOU!

[play-rough]

(I read the new fic at 5am and wrote this a little past half 6 and the only reason this ask has any structure is because I took notes like an absolute lunatic- so please don’t grade me on my ask writing quality, I am a very tired strawb)

Playrough, I am currently recovering from a sickness of my own (a cold 😐) so the climactic release of this new fic feels like a wonderful gift from the universe. But it’s just convenient timing, and it’s from you, and by god was it worth the wait. I don’t know if you’ve got an update schedule in mind, but I’m am so stoked for more of this.

God Dazai was so pathetic- and I mean that in the best way; the wet cat energy dial was turned up to the absolute max. Christ if he wasn’t entitled to a bit of patheticness though, the baby was having a rough time.

Chuuya was also wonderful here- I like it when his thoughts to Dazai become so simplified to the point of primitivity. The “hurt baby, sad baby, must protect baby” bits always sound like it’s purely his alpha side thinking, and I LIKE that. I think the fact that he’s an alpha in this instead of a caregiver is really cool and I’m interested in how his alpha instincts and his relationship with Dazai could intersect. I was kinda picturing him going a bit feral when he was frantically trying to comfort Dazai, as he regressed in the bathroom.

Tsu and Ane-san’s gf are S tier ocs btw. No proper paragraph for that one, just that I was excited they got a cameo, Tsu’s utterly adorable, and I hope we see them again in the future.

Wait, no I did actually have a paragraph for that. But this is already way too long so I’m gonna let that be it’s own independent ask.

I loved all of the new fic, but my favourite bit was undoubtedly Chuuya’s daydream over giving Dazai a bath. It was such an earnest and innocent thing to fantasise about, yet it made so much sense why he’d crave giving the touch starved baby that type of love and care (I just love this Chuuya so much, man 🥲) but unfortunately, I ruined the entire scene for myself. Because while Chuuya was picturing the most idealistic, gentle, relaxing outcome of giving Dazai a bath, I was picturing an unspecific amount of years in the future, with a very different bath time scenario. Because realistically, Kunikida would not be living out Chuuya’s soothing daydream. Dazai’s bathtimes would be an exhausting, stressful and extremely wet occasion for him. He has two other littles to account for, both of which have zero boundaries when small and were amped up on their last bursts of energy before they crashed for bedtime. They did not care that they should be putting their pyjamas on- they wanted to play with their baby brother and nothing was keeping them out of the bathroom, dammit! And baby otter, the little traitor he is, was no help- squirming and splashing around, totally distracted by them as Kida’s desperately trying to scrub him down as quickly as possible. He can’t let them bathe together though, even if it shortens bath time down by a mile. Not after last time. Stressing out Kunikida has become an unfortunate pastime of mine and pairing it with Chuuya’s more relaxing potential experience makes me laugh more than it should.

In conclusion; the wet cat food was delicious and I’ll make sure to bring back many lizards as a show of gratitude.

-🍓

Another ask that I am going to print out and put under my pillow before i sleep in hopes i dream of this 🥺😭 the lizard….. i cherish it so……..

I live to torment kunikida via childish whimsy 😭 the Weekend at Kunikida’s House fic is brewing 😭😭😭😭😭 this whole thing was so precious omg of course baby otter is a traitor, he loves tormenting Kunikida as much as i do hehe

[karniss-bg3]

I’m chronically shy so you’ve answered four of my anons already. Doubt you’ll recognize my cadence ask by ask but there’s a chance! I really like how you think and write. And it almost inspires me to make my own attempt at writing some Kar’niss fluff. But I haven’t written fic since I was 13, and that’s a good 13 years past. But I DO roleplay. And my muse has never been stronger. Keep an eye out for Kar’niss receiving some mental and emotional destimulation. Gonna wrap up that spider MYSELF. SHRINKING SPELL. *picks him up and runs to go write*

This was a very inspiring message to read. Forgive me if I get a little personal here but your words tapped into memories I had forgotten.

I started writing when I was around the same age of 13. My earliest obsession was vampires, a surprise to no one who knew me. For years I put everything into the craft. I won awards in school, I tried to write my first book when I was 17 which was a bit of a bust, and I spent my time daydreaming about fantastical worlds far outside of my own. I wanted to be a writer, I had made up my mind.

Then one day I just...quit. The inspiration within me fizzled and faded. All of those characters, all of those universes that lived in my mind stopped talking. At first I believed it to be related to stress, or perhaps boredom, and that in time my fire would reignite. For years that wasn’t the case and I felt a small part of myself wither and disappear. It was a lonely time not because there was no one else around but because I felt such a connection to those fictional places that I grieved their loss. Fantasy always made sense to me, it was my coping mechanism for a rough upbringing and social awkwardness in my youth. Dragons, knights in shining armor, elves, vampires, rolling landscapes brimming with magic and mystery, familiar yet alien. My sanctuary.

Thankfully, my inspiration did return after some time, with a vengeance no less. It was as if those ideas were trapped behind a thick metal wall and they had finally managed to break through, the dam well and truly bursting. I felt as if I had been reunited with a long lost friend and I knew I never wanted to go without again.

I will be 40 in a few months which I am sure makes me a dinosaur to some folks on this site. But I will say my love for fantasy, writing, and getting lost in a colorful daydream is still as strong now as it was at 13. One thing making this blog has accomplished is it’s exposed me to so many up and coming writers and artists. Those that have been at it for years or just getting started. It has made me smile and filled me with hope. We live in a world where every little thing has a price tag, or gradually folks are leaning more toward new AI technologies to make things at the click of a button. But humans shine brightest when we create, from the first cave paintings to the first story ever told. It is our super power and I hope we never forsake it in exchange for convenience or fear of making mistakes.

So my dear if you feel that inspiration to write, then I implore you to grab it with both hands and never let go. Kar’niss may have had a short run in game, but he lives on through you and everyone who brings him to life with their craft. Wrap him in blankets, hold his hand, wipe away his tears when he is sad, laugh with him when he is happy, use the power of your words to keep his legacy going. Not only do I think you can, I know you can.

Never stop dreaming.

[monstersinthecosmos]

LOL IM SUPER UPSET AS WELL but also thanks so much. maybe i just internalized all the little clues without realizing (thanks ADHD) but thats the timeline my daydreaming brain has been working with lol and god there's just so much FLAVOR. i really like the play on how keith's grown up but in some ways still an angry kid and shiro's this leader figure yet still so young and even boyish. but funnily enough i was just thinking today if we're gonna see shiro getting topped in ttsr! LOL bb deserves it

IT'S REALLY SUCH A GREAT FLAVOR, RIGHT? And I don't mean that about my own fic LOL I mean about them in canon dshjgkasdj. And I think like, of all the things they fucked up, especially with S8, the one thing that I think stuck the landing SO well was Keith's character arc as he became mature and was able to handle the responsibility of being a leader. It's just a really great ship dynamic that you have like, the smol angry one who's a loose canon x the mature older one who carries a tremendous burden to be in charge but is actually so traumatized and vulnerable. And like, you'd think Keith would need to be rescued more but Shiro is actually sort of a damsel sometimes!!!!!! And Keith is the one saving him! Stubbornly refusing to live in a world without Shiro!

ANYWAY I've had this story pretty carefully plotted & outlined since I started it and I've always tried to keep it close to the chest and I never wanted to reveal too much before it gets dropped into the text (for example, tagging as I go and not mentioning the alien bio stuff until it came up even though I knew the whole time 🥸) BUT ALSO I FEEL TERRIBLE THAT I HAVEN'T UPDATED IT IN ALMOST TWO YEARS!!!!! I'M REALLY SORRY HONESTLY, I'VE NEVER GIVEN UP ON THIS FIC, I JUST GOT SO BOGGED DOWN WITH OTHER PROJECTS AND LIKE THE CHAPTERS TAKE SO MUCH OUT OF ME THAT EVEN WHEN I'M ACTIVELY WORKING ON IT SOMETIMES THE CHAPTERS TAKE MONTHS TO WRITE. CHAPTER 9 TOOK ME LIKE 4 MONTHS TO WRITE LOL. But. Since you've been so patient. If you want a lil spoiler. Beneath the cut.

shiro will be topped in chapter 12 🤧🤧🤧🤧 AS OF NOW, NO PROMISES IN CASE I REARRANGE THE OUTLINE LOL I really spent the last few months telling myself that when I got through my latest mental health crisis that I'd focus deeply on this fic because it brings me so much joy and I really want to like power through and finish it so pray 4 me that 2024 is the year I finish TTSR and that at the current rate, chapter 12 isn't posted in 2027 LMAO 😭😭😭😭

[star4daisy]

Wife on her duty as a perfect wife i'm!

For the asking game, babe. Give me what i need... 3, 4, 14, 17, 19, 30, 35, and 43 (even tho i already know the answer).

Lov u sfm🖤

omg it was a joke luv <3

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

I'm the worst person to answer this I have no process sometimes I plan everything out and then write based on that and actually do what I planned, most times the characters take life and change everything and I keep trying to go back to the original plan and sometimes can still fit some things, usually not lol when I have time I just go with the flow and then if I'm interrupted I have to write down what I want to happen next otherwise I will not remember when I open the docs again, on the good days I write without actually thinking about it so I don't remember it well just feels like my fingers can't type fast enough lol very automatic

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

(I think I've answered this before in a better way) everywhere, things come to me at the most random times, usually when I'm daydreaming before falling asleep, sometimes by other books, tv shows or music but mostly it just feels like I spent six years of my life repressing my creative side so I could do physics and calculus so now that I'm letting it loose it's running wild lol

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

I don't write emotional scenes, I can't do emotional or vulnerable therefore neither can my characters which is why I mostly write from Barty/Evan's pov lol it's a different type of emotional I guess I have a dificulty in making my characters say I love you, I just cringe so badly. I don't feel what they feel at all lol and the only personal experience would be from emotions like anger

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

inspiration never lacks the problem is the lack of time, but when things aren't flowing I stop and go watch something, read or go to the gym until my mojo comes back

19. What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

Morally Ambiguous Characters and Graphic Depictions of Violence

30. Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished?

sometimes I just post the draft lol I cannot re-read things before posting so the first few people reading are definetly getting screwed over sorry, but then I feel the pressure of having people seeing all my mistakes and it forces me to go polish it

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

question what are his motives and why did he chose that path and maybe not make him one-dimensional like his whole purpose isn't just to go against the hero, make him compelling, make us believe in why he chose that path make us understand him and feel sorry for his motivations, I always like that lol

43. Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

Definetely the first, I'm very disattached to death, I have cried in very few fics and it's not when people die lol sometimes living is more painful so I never expect people to say they cried and when they do I'm always in shock

thx <3 I thought this was gonna be harder lol but maybe I just didn't answer as I should lol

[lavenoon]

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?,

🌿how does creating make you feel?,

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

and 💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language - @clxckwork-sun-n-moon

After a nap (or, well, many naps in a trenchcoat) here I am!

💫 what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

I think, maybe the very specific feral ones? Mentions of particular lines or scenes and actions surrounded by screaming tell me exactly which bits hit good, and I just melt when it's in the context of a live reading and there's so many of these "sub" comments! Honestly the most encouraging comments to get, they push away the imposter syndrome like no other!

🌿 how does creating make you feel?

Mhh, a whole mixed bag of things, I think! There's definitely the elation - I daydream a bunch, but it's different to have those lines on paper to reread again and again and again. It's fun, and it makes me giddy! Unfortunately, sometimes the imposter syndrome creeps up, and I hold my own writing to unreasonably high standards where I just feel like deleting everything and never looking at it again. And that's silly, because I know, and tell myself "this is literally only to have it on paper." It's to get it out, to have it there, not trapped inside my head where I'll forget them. It's so the details don't get lost! And I do that! So I try to focus on just the happy things, the fun it is, and try not to force myself to create on bad days that have unfortunately outweighed the good days for a while now. Wish it was only the fun, but alas, everything has a downside!

🎀 give yourself a compliment about your own writing

Ah, compliments. Shot myself in the foot again. Thinking about the dynamic swap though (uh, might or might not make it too tumblr, feeling still eehh about writing so had to keep it contained for now, sorry) I think I'm just, really open for a lot. Like, I don't hesitate to embrace new ideas and make them fit - that was what the swap was initially! I thought "there's no way Sun would be rude to his civilian landlord, as a civilian," and then it turned into a thought experiment how to make it work without getting out of character! It's a lot of fun so I see it as a good thing, and it also means I love seeing everyone else's sonas and interactions! I don't need to stick to one storyline, I love all of them! And I love those storylines whether they came from me or others! Which makes having a variable AU like this a lot more fun, hehe <3

💞 what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language -

Got this one thrice, so I'm gonna split it a lil and ramble about a different factor for each because yeah like I could ever settle for just one fghdjs

For one, it's the characters. I tend to write character driven stuff first and foremost - even my one fic (the tloz one, currently on hiatus, again disclaimer no one needs to read that it's a very different style, anyways) that has a very nice defined plot is so character driven that it's now at 110+K and I'm in the middle of Arc 2. Of five. It's too important for me that the characters get along, and communicate, and have fun together and time to breathe, That's why so many AU drabbles are just that! The entire "plot" of the AU (except for the Glamrock teases) is just them getting closer! That's the point! So the characters are definitely something I pay very close attention to, and do my best to get right!

[these-written-reveries]

About Me!

*I figured I would make a little post to tell y’all a bit about myself. If you’re interested, keep reading!

» Hi, I’m Kalista! I also go by Kal, or whatever other sweet name you wanna call me 🥰

» I’m 25

» My pronouns are she/her

» I identify as demisexual and lesbian/queer 🌈

I know it may be silly/confusing to hear this, considering I mostly write/post/fawn over fictional men. To sum it up: I like men in theory, not in practice.

» I have autism and adhd (audhd). This discovery about myself has opened many doors to self-acceptance that were previously locked by shame and confusion. I’m very proud of my neurodivergence!

» I am also physically disabled. I have a nice lil’ handful of chronic conditions lol. I like to laugh about it because it’s the best way to cope through the misery.

» I’m a “maladaptive daydreamer”. Have been since I was a child. Reading/writing was always a primary outlet for me to cope with and escape my reality and delve into dream worlds. Fanfiction was a huge part of that, so I’m very grateful for it.

» Music is a big inspiration for me when it comes to…just about everything. But especially my writing. I also have a very eclectic taste in music. I like at least a little bit of almost everything.

Favorite artists/bands: Lake Street Dive, Chappell Roan, Taylor Swift, Fleetwood Mac/Stevie Nicks, Shania Twain, Anna Calvi, Ashnikko, Superknova, Sammy Rae & The Friends, Ella Fitzgerald, Laufey, Hozier, BTS, Sabrina Carpenter, Nine Inch Nails (I’m trying not to list a lot, it’s very hard 🙈)

» Some of my fav shows: Supernatural, New Girl, My Hero Academia, Stranger Things, Pose, Grace and Frankie, Ouran High School Host Club, Sherlock, Haunting of Bly Manor, Orange is the New Black, Why Women Kill

» Some of my fav movies: Howl's Moving Castle, Joker, Batman: The Dark Knight, Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pirates of the Caribbean (1-3), Ratatouille, Legally Blonde (2001), Beauty and the Beast (1991), Peter Pan (2003), Princess Diaries (1 & 2)

» Brevity is not my expertise. Can you tell?

» I love rats! Had 8 of them as pets, but decided to stop caring for more due to my disabilities and busyness of life that made it hard to keep going with it. I do not intend on having kids, so I hope in the future I can get back to being a rattie mom again. I also want cats…yeah, idk how I’m gonna make that work 🤭

» I live in America…It’s not fun here, guys…😭

» I'm working on writing a novel that will likely become a series! Not sure whether I'll decide to go with a publisher or self-published yet. I am still in the early-ish stages of worldbuilding and whatnot, so I have plenty of time to figure that out! This is my dream and I’m working hard to make it happen!

» One of the reasons I am committing myself to getting back to writing and posting fics again is because I want to keep my writing skills sharp while I work on my novel. I want to learn and grow and challenge myself more to become a better and more confident writer. The other reason is because I have held myself back for so long from doing this out of fear of not being good enough. I’m quite frankly tired of holding myself back from the things I want and I’m working on healing these parts of myself. This is part of that process! So, for those who have read my fics, thank you for supporting me! I very much appreciate you! ❤️

» I’m always open to making new friends, so please don’t hesitate to reach out to me -I promise I don’t bite!

I can’t really think of much else right now. Thanks for reading if you’ve made it all the way through! If you have any questions about me or wanna talk about something I wrote here, you can certainly send me an ask/message -just please be respectful, of course!

Hope you have a wonderful day/night wherever you are! 💖

[yoongsisbae]

Asks for the askers:

My favorite fic of yours: That's always a tough one. You have so many amazing fics. Since ot7 is top tier for me I have to say, HOAL and RRR are my all time favorites. BV:ITS and Yoongi is a Rock are both huge runner ups but really, ALL your fics are amazing.

My favorite chapter in my favorite fic of yours: For HOAL literally all the chapters are amazing. I love each handshake and I love how they are currently all kinda trying to get close to her and the developing relationships. Chef's kiss🤌

For RRR, again all chapters are phenomenal. I have been meaning to tell you that I often think about this fic in the shower. Probably 50% of the time. And I'm a daily showered in the summer😅😅 so I basically think about it every other day. Idk what it is, something about that specific fic, it just comes up when I'm having existential thoughts I guess.

What made me the most emotional after reading: Well,was all the past lives in HOAL except Tae's were devastating. Especially Hobi's. So probably that. In RRR when yn thought Yoongi was a goner, I went into a spiral like yn did. That was more like a mental sadness pit though. Yoongi is a Rock was really emotional.

What I like the most about your writing: It's so good? You're genuinely one of my favorite authors on here. The character depth, the world building, the plots, the relationships, the flow of the stories, so well done.

A fic i'm excited for you updating/posting: I just saw The Snap? Sounds so interesting! And well any of your OT7 fics😅😅 I'm also looking forward to The Takeover and C!HOC.

A fic of yours that i've re-read: Like half of your fics. Obviously HOAL and RRR I've reread the most but also BV ITS.

A fic I didn't expect to like so much: Yoongi is a Rock. Meet Cute, Time Loop. V is for Villain (you had me rooting for Joonie then Yoongi and now Tae??? Might as well have them all, no?👀😅😅😅) Daydream. All fabulous fics✨️

omg you have no idea how happy you've made me 🥹🥹 the fact that you think about RRR in the shower is the best 😂😂 I love that, I will work out plot points while in the shower too lmao. again I am sorry for the pain I am gonna cause you lol 🙈 it's such a fun story to write so don't blame me too much, blame uhh dev, yeah 😅

to this day it amazes me that readers will go back and reread my stories and makes me so happy, I'm just so curious, I love analyzing stories myself, so I wonder how you view it differently after the first read. Sometimes readers mention about foreshadowing, and i'm so proud for them and for me lol 🙊

The snap hurts me. I want to finish it soon...but ow, it's painful to write lol. But you know, maybe I'll traumatize myself so much my brain will spare the RRR boys 🤣🤣

I live for all my readers ignoring Tae's red flags in V is for Villain 😆😆 also don't blame me when the red flags start waving 😅

I'm so grateful for your support of me. Honestly, readers like you make this so much fun for me and really motivate me to keep writing! see now I'm pumped, and gonna go edit now! thank you 💕 I love you!! 🍩💗

Fanfic Asks — For The Askers

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Hahaha. So. Uh. *rocking back and forth like I'm waiting outside the principal's office* Yeeeah. Finish the queue and plug the thing, and I'm reblogging this one to plug it because... I have made a poor decision. But I explain too much, so first off:

I write this. I broke my website to fix it, and it's not quite fixed but it's legible. I think someone's reading or rereading right now, but I am super obscure and looking for more!

Known readers: 3 (hi!) 1st Goalpost: 10?

Known Supporters: I'm set up on Ko-fi but I'm not asking for money until I post more stuff!! 1st Goalpost: 5?

And let me tell you about my maladaptive coping skills...

So, I've learned to dissociate like a boss (no details, just accept that this happened to me for reasons!) and I like to tell myself stories. Not just like daydreams, I wanna get the language down and edit and everything. And, ya know, now that I'm older, with better writing shit that nobody will take away from me, I often write this stuff down. Tin Soldier has provided an outlet for that. I usually stick to it, and now Soldier On fills that niche pretty well...

But, oh no, I had to phrase the impossible (because it would be apocalyptic or boring) crossover fic, above, as a plot problem. And I've been having a very stressful week (eye shit and doctor shit) and I became trapped at a restaurant with the US news playing muted in the background while I ate. To paraphrase Alastor: Haha, so many bombings!

So, yeah, I solved it. I figured out how to get David situated at the Hazbin Hotel without getting him killed (and/or ruling Hell from a radio broadcast). And could I just go "OK, cool" and leave it alone like I should? NO!

I do not have the social skills to be active in fan spaces, folks. I read and shut up, when I read at all. Because I'm not going to be invested enough to know why the fandom has decided this is fanon and this isn't and I will cross lines I don't even see. And I'm too old to be running around on the internet, pissing in people's Wheaties over something I like. And, although David dates to 2017 and I am staying true to the skills he had at the time (plus the Compelling Voice, which is standard for his current situation), it sure as hell LOOKS like I made up a Mary Sue just to drag Alastor. And he does! Boy, does he!

Some folks say the Muses inspire. Stephen King says it's little elves who live in your keyboard. I say SATAN HIMSELF crawled into my ear and whispered, "You know, Barnaby is in hiding and Alastor is a perfect replacement goldfish. They're both aromantic and you know David needs (and hates) boundaries like that!" And I could not refute this!

I should embrace it. I should be shameless. I should say, "I am now involved in writing a verbal chess match between two incredibly skilled opponents, one of whom has just stuffed the other into a maid outfit, and the other of whom is still wearing said maid outfit while trying to maintain every scrap of dignity and dominance available - and Alastor is winning! Alastor in a maid outfit is winning! I can't believe it!" But I can't because I think it makes me sound like a clueless dork. (Well, the spouse hears me, I trust him.)

I have a file titled "I should NOT be writing this!" and I'm still writing it. I usually finish that stuff - I have files with titles like "Anything to Keep the Anxiety Down!" but it's all my own characters so I don't feel as bad about it. My stress levels are still through the roof (feeling hopeless about lack of ability to maintain focus on fine details, and sensory overload from unfortunate food) and I'll probably keep writing this one, like I keep eating a Cup Noodle even when I know it's real bad for me and I need fruits and veggies. I need to write the NDA dealing with the spy and completing their escape. I'm gonna write my OC sparring with a certified Tumblr sexyman until my neurons fall out from brain scurvy.

But will I show it to anyone other than my long-suffering spouse? I dunno. If you actually know David, you'll probably die laughing, but that's only a couple people. Everyone else'll be like "lol why u so angry?" And I wanna sit 'em all down and explain at length, "No! I'm not angry! I'm having fun! They're PERFECT for each other! I want them to experience CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT together! I HAVE THEMES TO EXPLORE!" I'm actually, finally getting one of David's three backstories written out! I'm gonna try my hand at writing original lyrics to instrumental ragtime - potentially creating music that would not get smacked with the copyright stick if I wanted to record or perform it! But these do not seem like the words of an author honing their craft, I just sound unhinged.

I'd be having way more fun if I really were unhinged, but I don't like to hurt people or even annoy them, ya know? I'm out looking for approval on the internet and that's precarious as fuck. I'm not cool. I can't just hold my head up and do whatever I want. You people will eat me. (Waaay more like Alastor than David in that way.)

But I'm writing it. I don't feel good about it. I'll probably get over myself and put it up somewhere eventually, even if it's just another Author Egg at the site. Alastor is IN the maid outfit and we'll see if David gets him to mop the floor. And it's got themes and poignancy and shit because apparently I can't help myself.

It's practice if nothing else but goddamn look at all these paragraphs over how conflicted I feel.

tl;dr? I'M SO GOOD AT ANXIETY, EVEN MY COPING MECHANISMS GIVE ME ANXIETY!

Oh God. David Heard There's Room Service In Hell!!

Once again, I am testing my drawing ability by NOT doing any of the MANY illustrations I need, but I would've been sad if I couldn't finish an illustration. And look! I made it! I CAN DRAW! (And collage, obvs not my suitcase or BG, but all Public Domain)!! Well, my stylus needs a new battery, BUT, IN THEORY, I CAN DRAW! It's low res like all my test images, and I don't think I'm gonna put Vivziepop out of business anytime soon, but I'm fond of it.

That's why I'm so sad that it'll NEVER EVER HAPPEN. As a storyteller (albeit an obscure one) let me elucidate...

Strictly in terms of narrative viability, David hails from an incompatible universe. For an Invisible, he's middling. The Compelling Voice he's so fond of seems to be standard-issue, he's just more of an asshole about using it. In Tin Soldier and Soldier On, he's not all that hard to beat. Some people even have a natural immunity! He's only a threat in the first place because nobody knows what he can do.

But the minute he rolls up to the Hazbin Hotel, not only does nobody know what he can do, nobody has that natural immunity, and it would be hard as hell (haha) to beat him with their combat-friendly magic system. David isn't doing that Capcom-esque "freeze the enemy for a few seconds while they're looking at it" hypnosis. He's issuing unbreakable commands. If you're not deaf, the only way to beat him is to forget what he said. And that seems like it would be difficult, if not impossible, for most of the cast. Alastor certainly won't stoop to inflicting head trauma or hypnosis or amnesiac-levels of liquor on himself.

And that MIGHT not be a problem, except as soon as Dave meets Al he's gonna go from zero to nemesis in about three seconds flat. "Hmm, let's see. Neat freak, carefully-curated personality, perma-smile, never a moment's weakness... That's a pathetic little traumatized man-baby and I'm going to pull him out of his shell if I need to use a crab fork!" And, canonically, Alastor is also willing to make enemies that quickly. David has a sense of humour and no sense of self preservation, combat tentacles and veiled threats ain't gonna do it. Round one, David's gonna mop the floor with the Radio Demon.

...And by that, I mean he'd stuff Alastor into one of Niffty's frilliest little outfits and literally make him mop the floor, and even Charlie encouraging him to be a better person wouldn't get him to quit. Also, he'd be ignoring her and bending over backwards to get Angel's attention.

"Oh, listen. The man is over one hundred years old with zero interest in one-night stands or whirlwind romances. Prohibition isn't a thing anymore, drinking and dancing just doesn't cut it. Give him a chance to develop a fetish for something a little bit taboo..."

"I̸̠̤̐̄̄ ̸͕̝͙̌A̸̪̅M̴̭̰̙̎̓ ̶͓̻̐̉L̷̹͕̍I̷̯͗T̷̫̄Ȩ̶̾̋R̴̝̥͒A̷͔̩͋̃̕Ļ̵͗͜L̶̘̈́Y̵͇̓͗̂ ̴̼̪̘͠Ā̷̠̽̆ ̶͍͓̊̉C̷̣͕̺͆̃͝A̵͙̾̅N̶̥̬̮̄N̴̤̯̬̒̉̚I̴̩̜̍B̷͈̪̩̄À̴̝̦L̶̪͂͛͗!̶̟̆"

"That's not a fun night out. It's barely even a meal, what with the garbage they're feeding people these days. I imagine everyone tastes like a fucking 'Cool Ranch Dorito.'" [while making quote marks with both hands] "Isn't he from Louisiana? They invented spicy! Tell me, my deer fellow, is the cross-dressing and domination lighting up any dials?"

"Ì̴̗ ̶̧̫͓͋W̵͜͝Í̸̗͋L̴͔͆̊̌L̴̨̜͚͂ ̸͈̤́Ḱ̵̳̩͜Í̷̘̾L̶̨̫̬̉͋̌Ļ̵̱̗͐͊ ̴̧̣͊̄̈́Y̴̛͖̺͓̓̐O̶̢̦̍̀U̷̠̞͇̎ ̷̨̛̮̭I̷̙̜̽N̸̘̣͙̆ ̵̞͑͝Y̷̰̭̽O̷̟̘̹̓Ủ̶̢̏R̷͉͑̄̀ ̷̧̧̤̎Ŝ̶̱͈̃L̵̰͋Ȅ̸̜̗̙̊̍E̷͇̦̒P̷͈̝̅̆͌.̴̡͈̅͑̓͜"

"My good man, I have unlimited access to drugs and a fun new activity, WHY WOULD I SLEEP? What shall we try next? Do you have any drugs, Angel? Oh, of course you do! Do you think he's more of an upper or a downer person? I think a few muscle relaxants might loosen up that permanent rictus of social anxiety, but God only knows. You must be smoking a crate of cigarettes a day! Do you even brush? Your teeth, I mean. Do you suppose those lovely people at Lourdes make a mouthwash...?"

And Charlie would say, clasping her little hands, "Okay! What if we make some popcorn and talk about our childhood traumas? Yaaaay!"

But David would, inevitably, pass out. Most likely after binging and doing untold damage with Angel. And Alastor would kill him... And that's where we have the biggest fucking plot problem of all. Alastor's go-to method of disposal is tearing people to pieces while broadcasting it on the radio. And it seems like their screaming continues for quite some time, perhaps eternally.

I have expressed this in song form, because I have a weird brain and I couldn't resist.

Wait, wait, nevermind the eternal torment. Can these little hellions hear me? Test, test, is this thing on? Pardon me, could you quiet down a bit? I have a few things I’d like to… Will you stop screaming? Ugh. EVERYBODY SHUT UP AND LISTEN RIGHT NOW! That’s better. I have a little message for my executive producer. Well! I say! Colour me startled, you fulfilled your vow Think you’ve won? But I’ve barely begun! I’m always looking for new fans to wow Can you hear me NOW? [aside] Will you screamers sing backup if I command it? Can I get a little harmony? (We… can’t help ourselves?) I am eternal, and guess who’s just boosted my signal So I can reach all of you lovely new people? (We can’t help ourselves!) It’s your own Radio Demon! What was he thinking? (We can’t help ourselves!) What was he drinking? Ha! His dial must be twisted! Now I’m serenading the damned for my infinite span All according to plan! Am I a madman or a genius? I’m a pianist! Take that, FCC I’m a wonder, your saviour Please excuse my rude behaviour, (but the demon sure done fucked up!) Think he did me a favour? Silence my vocals? A failure! I’m louder and I’m certainly braver So crank the signal to the noise, and enjoy my compelling voice It’s nice to have all these new toys, (but our deer friend is annoyed) A Spirit of Radio beats a demon blow for blow This Invisible is crackling on the air! Well, one does like to believe Though you’re stuck, I’m almost free! That’s what you think! Your weak signal can’t compare Though you’ve had a little fun Your broadcast is done, and it’s time for your payback I’m in control Too bad you atomized my soul! … Not this attention-starved, brandy-addled, overgrown twink Guilty! What could be more absurd? A plagiarist bird Tweety-pie can’t even sing, his theft is pitchy You call that bitchy? I’m afraid that’s not entertainment! You're looking for a new twist? Then let’s remix the arrangement! Is Al as stiff as he projects? What sorts of kinks do you suspect? I’ve seen lacy details with my very eyes! He lies! And if I Tiked a Tok or two Well, there’s nothing he can do! A V̷̰͖̉̂͝İ̶̙D̵̛̻̮̙͛̕E̴̼̱̕Ŏ̷͆ͅ?̷̗͎̞̏̅! If I did, you can’t delete it That's the truth! When I find you in here, Ÿ̴͕̚Õ̸̠̝̕Ů̵̩̹Ŕ̸͔ ̸̬̋̂̔͜T̸̮̙͌̕Ő̵͔͕̑̄R̵̩̣̅͌̌͜M̷̝̹̾̏Ĕ̶̦͕̟Ň̶̮͊Ṱ̷̲̈̔̈ ̵̡̹̟̑Ẅ̷̝́͝I̷͉͋ͅL̴͎̞̎L̶̯͓͑ ̵̬͐͐͝Ḅ̸͚̬̅Ẹ̴̎̿͠ ̴̻͉̲̐̈́͠N̵̖̟̤͑̽E̴͙͎͘V̸̡͕̦̾̕Ė̵̝͈̀Ŕ̴̺-̸̡̱̇̾̉E̴̠̣̊̐̋Ń̵͔̬̝̑D̴̡̬͙̓İ̴͔͋͊N̸̞̙͐̒Ĝ̷̼̺̐͆.̸̤̭́̐̅.̸̰̓͝.̷̤̬̌ #MaidioDemon is trending! Y̴̼̿͆O̶̟͇͊̏͜Ǔ̸͈ ̴̨̫͘I̷̡͓̜̍̈́̽N̸̜̩̉̄͝S̵͚͈̭̅̓Ĩ̸̢̯͇͘Ṗ̶̩̭̦I̴̱͑D̷̨͖̚ͅ,̴̥͕̌̈̾ ̸̛̳̈́Ṭ̶̢̠͒Ė̸̱̼̕C̸̙̥̈́H̵͓̠̔̀N̷̖͝Ǒ̶̬Ć̶͔̃͘Ř̶͙͍͠Ä̴̟́̊T̴̳̉̊͜I̶̞̓͝C̵̢̨̲͐̇̎.̵̼̏͋.̷͎̆ͅ.̸̘̜̒ Darling, please, you’re lost in static One thing’s clear! You must be wishing that you took the L, you poor deer Say farewell. I’m very grateful that you gave me Hell Oh, this will be swell! [Vivziepop, distantly:] Fuck!

"Stayed Gone" is a patter song and I can't keep up with it as I read it, but I think the lyrical parts scan, at least. A-heh. Please excuse my hubris, but it's doubtful anyone will see this.

Of course, I would never torment someone with arguably GNC-phobic revenge porn, but that guy IS NOT ME. Your only hope for dealing with David is if Vaggie decides he's more of a threat than an amusement and straight up kills him, and that's not a plot, that's a cul-de-sac. So this little not-a-fic is all you'll get from me about this unsustainable situation.

...Alright, I might put Alastor in a maid outfit if anyone cares, but I really should be illustrating. I have precisely 13 to do before I can post more story! Unless I decide to post it anyway!

All apologies to Vivziepop, whom I've name-checked as one of a few creators I'd sell out or saw off my leg to work with. But - although I am tempting fate - prrrobably no one will see this. I'm just doin' a little practice and amusing myself.

Right, Tumblr?

[laketaj24]

Serotonin II

Author’s Note: Here it is! I am taking requests, and the taglist is open, drop your name under this fic or on this list if you are interested! This does have a prior part but can be read as a standalone.

Pairing: Colson Baker x Reader

Warning: Smut, breeding kink

Inspo Song: Bad Things

Part I

My MASTERLIST

Colson: Busy?

Y/N: Why would I be busy?

Colson: For sure ain’t been answering my texts 🥱

Y/N: You need something, Col?

Colson: You know you only call me Col when you’re half asleep or whimpering my name when you about to cum. Let me come over.

Tongue-tied, his messages left you baffled. They were a smooth variation of sexting mixed with pleading. Every message included a very Colson apology but a rebuttal that followed and reminded you why you couldn’t fall back in the same routine with him. It was easy to picture yourself back with him, nestled against his lean frame - listening to his voice as it rumbled against his chest as he rambled on. You saw it clear as day, but the truth of the matter was he didn’t do what you required to have you back in his life. Fucking you in the bathroom of some club like a whore, giving your body a fix, but your heart and mind still felt that hesitation when it came to Mr. Baker.

“Are you listening?” Dana asked, holding up the soy powder milk for your nephew.

“I heard you clear as day.”

“You sure you didn’t just daydream the entire I talked about not feeding Jaylen after seven?” Dana placed the soy milk on the table and glanced down at her newborn. “If you’re not up to it, I can stay. I hate going out of town so soon after having him.” She tapped her soon on the back a few times and exhaled.

“We will be fine.”

“You say this, but I don’t believe you.”

“Why?”

“You’re head has been shot ever since you broke up with the delinquent.” She rolled her eyes. “And what pisses me off is Tyla loves him!” She whispered and turned her attention to the seven-year-old parked in front of the tv. “I mean worships him.”

“I know. Colson is good with kids.”

“Because he’s childish.” She added. “He’s basically a six variant of one.”

“You can’t say one thing nice?”

“His music isn’t shitty,” Dana added. “I will be back at eight for the both of them, and I swear not to do this again, just my boss needs me, and their dad is busy.” She lied. “So- I love you, sis. Call Eric!” Dana kissed your cheek and sprinted out the door without another word.

Eric, you hadn’t seen him since you left the club a week ago, and you barely responded to his texts. The ride home was awkward; the entire time, he talked about how much he enjoyed the night. And the only thing you could think about was getting bent over in the bathroom by your ex. Good date.

Auntie duty had started. Diapers, Tiktok, YouTube, and some weird pig cartoon lay ahead of you for the next nine hours. Jaylen slept peacefully in his playpen, unbothered by his mother's lack while Tyla consumed her tv.

Colson: I got food open the door.

Y/N: What door?

Colson: Your apartment door. It’s Chipotle.

Fuck, you were hungry.

Y/N: Leave the food on the porch.

Colson: I’m not a god damn door dash.

The abrupt knocking startled Jaylen, soo you took him in your arms and walked to the door, “Stay in the living room Tyla.”

“K,” She answered, not even looking up from her phone.

You opened the door revealing Colson in his pink hoodie and gray joggers. He held bags of food in his hand and garnished a big smile on his face, “You look good with a baby.”

“Why are you here?”

“You wouldn’t come to see me or invite me over, so invited myself over. Can I come in?”

“No.” Jaylen stirred in your arms, his plump little legs kicked, and you sighed. “I am busy today. That’s why I didn’t invite you over. I have to keep my nieces and nephews, and every time you are over here, you either curse too much or we end up fucking.”

“Watch your mouth.” He teased.

“How were you texting with all that in your hands?” You stared at him.

“You know I got talented hands.”

“Colson!”

Why? You grimaced inwardly before looking at your overly excited niece, she loved Colson, and you hated to admit, he might be an asshole sometimes, but he loved kids. He was a wonder with them. You slapped your face, disappointed there was not a way to hide the massive man at your door. “He can’t stay.” You answered before the question left your lips.

“Why? Please!” Tyla pouted her pink lips and threw her arms up in defeat. “We never see him anymore.”

“That’s your aunt’s fault,” Colson added fuel to the fire. “I won’t stay long.” He pushed through, entering your apartment to greet Tyla with a hug at her level and a sly wink to you. Kids were the way to your heart – and his, but he would not win you over with this bullshit today. Not at all. “You hungry, Tyla?”

“Yeah, ten minutes, and you’re out.”

“Damn.”

“Tiktok?’ she held up her phone and the ring light from her purple book bag. “Please.”

“Word, what are we learning?” He raised his brows to you and proceeded to make himself comfortable on the couch; she was ecstatic, immediately standing to do a dance and drag you over to learn it too. Tiktok had become the bane of your existence, but for Tyla and her half a million followers, she was golden.

One hour later and you were tired, you’d perfected the dance, and Colson had convinced her to let him skip the dancing and just be—it was all he had to do though, she’d get one million views just because of who he was, and now everyone would know you were with him. Your heart dropped a little thinking about the exposure while she edited the video next to both of you.

“Why is Uncle Colson never around?” Tyla never looked up from her phone; she just continued her mission of posting that sixty-second video and ruining your life.

“He’s not your uncle.” You corrected.

“That’s your aunt’s fault too.” He added.

“Don’t start with me.” The harsh whisper came out as a warning, waking baby Jaylen from his nap and making Colson chuckle in amusement.

“I like him; I want him in the family.”

“I want a million dollars.”

“I can give you that.” He said.

“And a loyal boyfriend who doesn’t text insta-sluts in his spare time.”

“Don’t use sluts in front of her damn; your mouth is outrageous Y/N.”

The narrowing of your eyes made him burst into laughter again. He was damn good at annoying you like he had it mastered.

The day passed quickly with him making eyes at you, caring for Jaylen while she styled Colson’s hair in four ponytails atop his head, garnished with bows, and she even attempted to give him edges. He didn’t care; as long as she was happy, he was good.

“You look a mess.”

“It’s cool.” Colson snapped a picture. “Been waiting forever to see if ponytail was for me or not; it’s a no.” He sat back on the couch while Tyla disappeared to your room for god knows what else. “You look good with babies, you know?”

“You’ve said that.”

“I meant it; you’re good with them too.” He sighed. “I thought about kids with us, like every damn day.”

“Funny.” You shrugged, and she appeared with your bright pink polish. “What’re you doing, Tyla?”

“Painting his nails.” She plopped down in front of him, and without hesitation, he held his hand out for her. “We did blue last time.”

“Yep.” He exhaled. “Don’t you want this?”

He didn’t have to elaborate; you knew what he was talking about, but a family was the last thing from your mind, no matter how perfect the scenario looked right now. “Do you?”

Colson smacked his lips. “We can talk later.”

“You leaving when they do.” You reiterated.

The door opened thirty minutes later without a knock or doorbell; Dana never announced herself. “I see he found his way back in.” Her mouth dropped as soon as her eyes met him. “Tyla just had her way today, didn’t she.” She laughed. “Oh god, she gave this man braids.”

“Your daughter is talented.” He laughed. “Might be a new look.”

“Ridiculous.” She held her laughter. “Ty, get up and come on, love; we have a long drive.” She took Jaylen from your chest and gave you a look. “How long is he staying?”

“Not long, sis, drive safe.”

“I will. Colson, you leave in ten minutes, or I’m sending our brother over.” She pointed to him.

“I’m not scared of Michael; send him.” Why did his arrogance only make you want him more? He looked to Dana, who, like him, was not bothered.

“I hate him.” She mumbled as she left. “I just fucking hate him.”

“It’s mutual!” Colson laughed as the door shut. “You’re gonna stay over there the whole time?”

“Aint no reason for me to be over there for real.” You thought of three reasons to stay where you were, the drop in his voice, the tension in this room that could be cut with a knife, and when he was alone with you, your willpower was nonexistent. “You have five minutes.”

“We aren’t going to talk about this, are we? You like being evasive and shit? That you’re new persona?”

“I have no new persona. This is me not playing into all the bullshit you bring when you’re with me. This is a wall.”

“I’m about to knock that wall over.” He smirked.

“Stay on your couch.” You warned.

Colson held his hands up, acting defenseless, “I wasn’t moving from this spot.”

“My sister hates you, you know that? She literally said that I would be better off leaving Cali before staying here with your toxic ass.” You found yourself pointing at him and wanting to knock that smile from his face. Colson liked to see you get feisty with him; he called that foreplay, and here you were dancing to the beat of his drum, pissed.

“How am I toxic? I stopped all that shit for you, every ounce of it.”

“Stop lying.”

Colson grinned at you, unwavering in his position and impressed that you were persistent in yours; your usual fights lasted about one day. You’d take him back, and everything went back to how it was before, but that changed nothing; you wanted him to change. “I am not lying to you. Come here.”

You walked over to him, taking his hand and allowing him to pull you down in his lap. Facing him, you admired all the little cuts he’d earned over the years in senseless fights or accidents. Your fingers traced over them before you cupped his face. What the fuck were you doing? Why were the two of you akin to magnets? Drawing one another in half of the time and then at the flip of a side hating one another? You placed your lips on him, parting his lips with your tongue and then flicking playfully over his teeth before he caught your bottom lip with his teeth and tugged. The slight pressure made you moan against him. He cradled your neck with one hand, not allowing you to escape him. Colson deepened the kiss, adding pressure and taking what little breath you had away. “I fucking miss you, Y/N.” He rasped.

"Don't talk.”You murmured back.

Colson didn’t listen; he never listened.  “You were good with them today.”

You growled, grinding your hips on him. “Shut up, Colson.”

“I want to talk to you, I want you back Y/N, shit. Like I am trying, I canceled recording sessions, appearances, and other shit all this month so we can figure this out. I don’t want to-,”

You stopped him from talking, gripping his cock through the sweats with one hand and kissing him to shut up.

“Stop.” In one fluid motion, your hands were by your side, and your eyes were on his, “We’re talking; I was not fucking other women. But I was entertaining them, and it’s no excuse. I know you’re hurt; I’m sorry. Like real talk, no joke – I apologize.”

“How do I know it won’t happen again?’

“I'll delete all this shit for you,” He admitted. “Fuck a platform.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m dead ass right now. Fuck it all. I just want you.”

“If it happens again, I am never taking you back, ever.”

“It won’t.” He whispered, loosening the grip on your hands.

You took advantage of the notion, moving your hand down to his cock, rubbing the hilt through his sweats again.

“Nah,” He gripped your hair, pulling you back, so your eyes met him. “It’s my turn now.” He pushed aside your shorts in seconds, and his fingers plunged into your pussy, curling for a moment and then spinning out of you. He placed his fingers on your lips, “Open up.” You didn’t hesitate to take his fingers, licking your own juices from them, and he tapped your face sending a slight pleasurable sting. “How you taste?”

“Ready.” You pulled him from the sweats feeling him jump at your cool hands, and stood up, wriggling out of the shorts before hovering back over him again.

Colson playfully tosses you on your couch, draping one leg to the ground. “Let me taste.” He whispered as he descended between your legs. Colson’s fingers brushed your swollen clit, before his lips latched on, sucking. You bowed from the couch, the moans and scratched to his shoulders done nothing but encourage. He lapped up your juices before diving his tongue into you and swirling around. You gasped, surprised and pleased as he worked.

“Col-“ You gripped his shoulders, lifting yourself from laying down, and he took full advantage, pulling you onto his face and fucking you with his tongue. Your body coiled, the jolts of pleasure popped around your body, and then you came. The white-hot energy surged through your body, and you panted, shaking, almost collapsing back on the couch. He caught you peppering the wet kisses from your pussy to your mouth.

“You good?”

“Better than.” You whispered, breathing heavily. “ Shit.”

“We’re not done.” Of course, you weren’t; his cock throbbed against his leg, waiting to ruin your life, and here you were still out of breath. Colson gently pulled you from the couch, sitting you in his lap, and he started once again with the kisses. You could taste yourself on his lips, and for some reason, that just made you wetter for him. He took advantage of stroking himself before he lowered you down on him. You took every inch, mouth slightly open and hair swinging the entire time. You pressed your breast against his chest, savoring the warm feeling of his cock inside of you, and then you started moving on him. Your muscles clenched around, gripping him with each stroke. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone; you took that added pleasure in stride biting your lip as it intensified every time your skin met.

Colson’s eyes were hooked on you, his fingers dug in your ass, guiding you up and down on his cock, urging you to keep going, and there was no way in hell you were going to stop. You could feel it building once again, this time bigger. “Hold it.” He whispered, knowing you were about once more. “Not yet.”

“Ah,” Impatience grew over you; you slowed your ride, winding your hips slowly, your eyes closed as you took over, fucking up into you, guiding your body to take more. “I can’t.” You whined as you fought to hold the orgasm back.

“Yeah, you can.” He slammed into you harder, knocking the breath from you, your toes curled, and you screamed as you shook against him. “I wanna feel that pussy shake around me when I cum; hold it.” He slapped your clit with three fingers, and your breath hitched. “Hold it.” His hand travels up your shirt to your bare stomach, and he kisses you once more. “Y/N.”  His hips rocked slowly, but then he started to fuck you quicker, the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot each time. You were a screaming mess, biting down on his shoulder. That done the trick he spasms against you growling. His warm cum triggered you. You came, sinking down and taking all of it. “Shit, you cheated.”

“You would’ve lasted forever.” You smiled lazily.

“Is that a complaint or a compliment?”

“Both.”

You wince, sliding off him, “right.” He rolled his eyes. “Now we gotta eat reheated Chipotle.” he stood up, fixing his pants. “Can I stay?”

“I guess.” You pulled the blanket over you, snuggling into your favorite place on the couch. He heads into the kitchen, and you reach for your phone, wondering what threat your sister had for you.

Meg: Are you still coming tonight?

This was not your phone; of course, it wasn’t. You unlocked the phone, clicking her name to look at the messages. But there is only red as Colson makes his way back into the living room. You throw the phone across the room, hitting the wall, and he stares at you. “What the fuck?”

“Take you and that Chipotle and get out.”

“Damn, what the Chipotle do?”

  A/N: One more part coming. I’ll drop it next week, I think! Thank yall for reading! Let me know what you think!!

Taglist: @taytayize123​ @ctrlszn @supernaturalvikingwhore @jae-writes-fanfiction @bigsisbria @placeoffreedom @kyla-queen @missdforever @gottatoxicattitude @bang-kim-bap @msreshel @blowmymbackout @titty-teetee @strawberry-skyes @mauvecherie @savageiz @bang-kim-bap @luci-her @littlelovebug98 @babyboy-cody @hellshedevil @daddyavesxx @crystalbaby12 @jeonsblackgf

commenters from serotnin who might be interested: @mgkmerchstyles @mayaslifeinabox

[ghoste-catte]

I was curious what advice would you give to someone new to writing fics? I've been wanting to get back into it but haven't seriously written something since high school. I hope this isn't an annoying question or anything!

Not an annoying question at all! I'm just a little worried that I won't have terribly good or useful advice. To be honest, I also sort of stopped writing in earnest right as I finished high school, and didn't pick it back up until my late 20s. It's certainly an adjustment! But I think the few things that really helped me get back into writing fic as a hobby and something I spend quite a bit of time on would be:

Write for yourself first, then find your other motivations. My original inspiration in getting back into fic writing was that there just were not that many fics I liked for my favorite pairing, and I wanted more of them, and I especially wanted more with the tropes and characterizations I wanted to see. I think at the very core of anything you need that internal spark that drives you. At the same time, for me at least, if I just relied on my own drive, I would not get much done; I need some external guardrails. So having people send prompts, or writing for particular events, or writing stuff for friends really helps me to get my ass in gear and finish stuff. That may not be the perfect motivator for you, and that's fine! You just gotta figure out what is.

Be open to inspiration. Anything and everything can be spun out into a story with the right tweaking. Obviously stuff like music is a classic inspiration source, but I've also pulled ideas from poetry, from memes, from Reddit threads, from YouTube videos, from rambling conversations on Discord and from real life to make fics out of. So many times, someone will post a silly Twitter screencap, and I'll think, There's a fic in this. And a lot of the time, there is! Research is a wonderful thing, but so is serendipity. If you're out there actively looking for ideas, eventually one that you like will stumble past you.

Find your community. I can genuinely say I never would have finished more than one fic if I didn't have fandom friends to talk to about even stupid headcanons, to bounce ideas off of, and to encourage me (and to encourage them in turn!). Discord has been a godsend, and some of my closest online friends are people I met in the GaaLee discord server. As I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've also joined general writing servers and Reddit communities and have found them immensely helpful on both a motivational level (bingos, sprints, owe-me challenges) and on a craft level (plot workshopping and writing ethics and live grammar help). It's a lot easier to think about fic ideas and hash through problem moments when I have a constant stream of fandom-related chatter coming from the little people who live in my phone! Ao3 is an amazing website, and it's great as, well, an archive, but it isn't social media by design. If you want conversation and human connection and cheerleading, you've gotta forge out and find it.

Make it a habit ... If you want to produce anything longer than a couple hundred words, you really have to set aside time for it. And writing is just like knitting or dirt biking or painting little model figurines: the more you do it, the more easily it comes. When I was first getting back into the proper swing of things, I committed myself to 30 minutes of writing per week. Just 30 minutes. I didn't even hit that goal every week, but there were tons of weeks I got on a roll and went over that amount, and by the end of the year I'd written over 200,000 words. I used to spend an hour laboriously tip-tapping out 200 words, but now I can easily blow through 1k in a 50 minute sprint. It's all about training that muscle.

... But don't make it a chore. With fanfic, you aren't doing this as a job, and you aren't ultimately doing it for anyone other than you. That means you can take breaks when you need them, you can set deadlines and then fail to meet them, you can write stuff and then decide to never post it. When you start getting burnt out, when the practice loses the joy and energy, stop. There's no 'hustle' here. In our capitalist society we're so trained to push past our limits and keep going even when it hurts us, but the hobby you do for connection and relaxation and whatever else shouldn't be like that.

Ignore metrics. Sometimes stuff isn't gonna get hits, or kudos, or comments. There are some basic 'rules' as to the stuff that does and doesn't get traction, but every time you post something it's a roll of the dice. If you're focused on watching that kudos counter tick up, you will get bummed out fast. And any writer will tell you that the stuff you think is your best work will never be the stuff that gets the most accolades. So you have to find something else to give you a sense of success. For me, it's watching my wordcount go up in my stats and those occasional comments where someone has a lot to say and that one person who always leaves me a <3 emoji (and, shout out to @egregiousderp, having someone to have long one-on-one conversations with about the stuff that never made it to page).

Don't strive for perfection. It's really easy to want your first ever fic to be a complete showstopper, the best fic fandom has ever seen, hitting all the tropes and the ideas and the characterization that you just know fandom is missing and would be everyone's top favorite if only it was written. This is a trap. No one fic can be all things. Most people who want to write an epic as their very first venture will not see the end of that epic, because they haven't put in the practice hours to make something on that scale work. That's not to say you can't start out with a big, sprawling multichap, just don't expect it to be the greatest thing since sliced bread if you're just starting out, and be okay with abandoning it for greener pastures if you get to that point. Think of the first time someone makes a vase out of clay or bakes a loaf of bread. That's never their best vase or their best bread. If they keep up with it, they'll make more and better vases and loaves. Likewise, your first fic is probably not gonna be your best fic. See it for what it is: your launchpad.

You can't edit an empty page, but you can over-edit a full one. This kind of spins off of #7, but if the words aren't there, you can't fix them. Daydreams and headcanons are fantastic (and god, how many times have I wished for a speech-to-text engine that projected my falling asleep thoughts onto a Google doc for later perusal), but they aren't fic. If you want to write fic, you've gotta get comfortable with the idea of sloppy outlines and rough first drafts. You can't build a house without a frame and you can't build a man without a skeleton (I mean, you can, I guess, but he'd be one floppy man). The nice thing about fic is that it doesn't matter if that frame is structurally unsound or the skeleton has 18 too many bones, you can clean that up in the editing process. But you can't start hanging curtains and arranging furniture in something that doesn't even have walls. That's the process. But! Also know when to set down the editor's pen and say, "Okay, this is good enough for government work", and call it done. ("Done" doesn't have to mean "posted", but it does mean, "I'm done picking at this for now, and I'm gonna go write some more stuff".) Over-editing can make stuff seem laborious and forced, and it prevents you from actually improving. To continue belaboring the house metaphor, you can spend your whole life rearranging furniture in just one room, but the end result of that is a pretty narrow existence and a room with a lot of footprints and tracks in the carpet.

Write shit down. When you have ideas, jot them down--in a notebook, in a Google Doc, in the Notes app of your phone, in pen on the back of your hand. You think you will remember that brilliant line of dialogue or sparkling snippet of narration or genius plot that came to you in a dream, but you Will Not. Write it down. Write it down. Write it down! There have been so many times when a fic was completely saved by past!me having written down my shower thoughts about what happens next in the fic, that present!me had completely forgotten about and was floundering over.

Have fun with it! Try different stuff. Try stupid stuff. Try experimental stuff. Do stuff you've never done before that you aren't sure will work. It's important to get comfortable with your niche (for example, I know I'm never going to be the sort of person who writes intricate plots of intrigue or super long 100k epics or detailed battles), but you can't find that niche unless you explore lots of different niches! Figure out what you love and what you absolutely hate, and then keep doing the stuff you love.

Okay, so that was actually TEN things, but ... I hope you still found this helpful. Feel free to send another ask if any of this was confusing or unclear. Good luck with your fic writing and, if you want, send me a link to what you've written once you've written it! I'd love to read it.

[akaashisupremacy]

Goodbye for Now

Summary: What is it like to be with someone who isn’t afraid of death?

Notes: Just a philosophical rant x Gojo daydream in one fic

Gojo Satorou  x reader

Multi-fandom Masterlist || Milestone Event || AO3 version

genre: soft angst to fluff, pining, (wc:1,1k )

“Come here to see me?” Gojo perks up at the sight of you.

“Why are you here?” Nanami asks, surprised, “It’s your day off.”

After graduating from Jujutsu tech, you’re only ever back here for work. You plop down onto a seat next to Nanami who although looks like he’s talking business with Gojo, seems glad to be interrupted.

“Got broken up with, so I guess now I have time to pick up that autopsy report myself,” you sigh and gesture  “all my Valentines plans—woosh, cancelled.”

“Love is futile in this profession anyway." Nanami stiffly comments, nodding in sympathy. You’re not sure whether that was to cheer you up or depress you even more.

“Well, if you’re free I can take you out on Valentine’s,” Gojo offers, “A substitute date if you will.”

You shake your head, “I only date normal humans. No Jujutsu sorcerers. It’s my rule.”

“I could be your first.” Gojo winks, infusing the air with tension.

Nanami awkwardly adjusts his tie. There’s something a little invasive about his presence all of a sudden. He makes an excuse to go buy tea.

“I want to quit working as a Jujutsu sorcerer when I have a family. Can’t leave this damn world behind if I’m with one.” you snap, getting up from the table to leave for another room.

——————————————————————————

On Valentine’s weekend, you find yourself in a dinner with Gojo. You’re not really sure how you agreed or how’d he convince you, but you’re having a surprisingly not horrible time. Maybe it’s your sheer curiosity or just the utter lack of will to find someone better suited to your liking, but you haven’t regretted the night so far. Still, there is a lot on your mind.

“You’re rather quiet.” he comments.

You wave dismissively, “This feels weird is all. Dating Jujutsu sorcerers is like anticipating early death.”

Gojo, puts down his chopsticks and crosses his arms, “You’re so down even good sushi is not cheering you up.”

“The goal of dating is for me to be the last person you let go off before you face death. Not a one time sushi date.” you put bluntly, fingers gripping your chopsticks, “Can’t believe I’m even out with Jujutsu Tech’s largest clown.”

“We can come here again, make that a two time sushi date.” he jokes, grinning ear to ear.

You put your hands up to your hips and scowl, “Not what I meant.”

Gojo has been insisting on asking you out for a while. You’ve always thought he was joking. Then tonight happened and you’re actually on a proper date. How can it be so easy for him to date someone who works in such a dangerous job?

“I’m sorry Gojo, I don't think I can see you. You’re reckless and you like to challenge death.” It’s your turn to put down the chopsticks, “I’m not sure I can handle that. The two time sushi date is not gonna happen.”

Gojo tries to say something, but for once his lighthearted and jokey demeanor does not make an appearance. He nods and eats in silence. You feel regret for your choice of words, but it’s the truth. You can’t let yourself fall for someone like him. You’d never be able to recover if you loved then lose him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“If I could choose how l will be reborn, I wouldn’t choose to be a sorcerer. I’d rather be an ignorant human.” you exhale, hands folded behind your head.

“I wouldn’t.” Gojo Satoru scoffs.

After finishing your business in Tokyo, you’re about to head to the Shinjuku Station when Gojo Satoru stopped you to insist on bringing you there. You try to shake him off. It’s a weekday night and he has his own work, but he kept pushing and so here you both were. You don’t really understand his insistence, but there are few things you understand about him in general.

After he graduated from Jujutsu Tech, Gojo stayed in to teach. You found him to be overqualified. It was general consensus that he was best suited towards missions, but Gojo insisted on teaching and so they let him. Sometimes there was no point arguing with him. He’s hard-headed that way.

“You like your job too much.” you say under your breath. He literally lives in Jujutsu Tech. There is no other way to put it.

“I guess…” he shrugs, turning to you. Even in the dark, his eyes are hidden in sunglasses.

“That and this is the only way for us to meet. Tokyo is dense with people. There’s so much to do and see…it would take a miracle to find you even with a red string of faith.” he explains with his hands.

“Even if that means we’ll only be here for a short while?” you turn to him, your eyes wide with curiosity. You watch his expression carefully.

“Yeah, I mean I would like for the both of us to turn grey, but if that doesn’t happen I would never turn back on the chance to meet and be with you for certain.” You can see slivers of his emotions beneath his glasses. “I really hope you could feel the same way.”

His tone is still and serious, hands no longer playfully gesturing. Instead they are tucked into his pockets, his elbows barely brushing by your arm as you walk side by side.

His sincerity touches you. You feel jealous that he freely has feelings for you.

When both of you near the station, he nods to signal the start of your goodbyes for the night.

“I think you just need to accept the occupational hazards of the life we’re both living.” he says, “We can still be happy together, no matter what pain the future holds.”

You sigh in exasperation, “That’s easy for you to say.”

Gojo Satorou is not afraid of death—for himself or others. It’s a mere inevitability to him.

“Look where it’s led you!” you exclaim.

“To you?” he cheekily tilts his head at you.

You shake your head, “I meant the dead students, the lost friends. Gojo, there are so many people living lives where they don’t have to lose their loved ones the way we do.”

“It’s also a way for me to keep seeing you.” he smiles, “There are two sides to every coin, y’know.”

You both pause at the gate of the station. Tonight ends here.

“Goodbye, Gojo.” you fold your hands in front of you, tentatively looking up into his eyes.

“Goodbye for now,” he adds, “Because I don’t plan on dying just yet.”

You wave and turn your heels towards your platform. For now you understand him a bit more and for now you can see each other.

You look back to catch him still looking at you. He waves again. For the first time tonight, you smile meekly. He grins back, ear to ear. The uncertainty still nags at the back of your head, but you shut it off in the meantime.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

General taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan @kaizumi @holaaaf @glxar@francxsca

Comment or message to be added to the taglist! :D

[aineryeo]

Sweet Tea ௹ OSAMU

Sweet Hibiscus Tea — Better Twin. 🍵

SYNOPSIS: You are not a protagonist but your best friend definitely is. When will you ever be, sweet little side-character? » 6.2k Words

THEME: A li'l bit of a slow burn love story, angst, just a treat as my first fic in a year. | Bit of profanity, cussin', teen drama. And use of dialogue references!

NOTE: Low-key felt like this was crap, rip. I still love you so much ‘Samu :( I may have not written this the best

If you were to think of what your role in life was, you were sure you were a comic relief character, and your screen time was just cut short because the viewers in the show you call, “Life” are not giving you the best reviews. With the amount of times you felt like you were cycling through all your days the same, waking up… Waking.. Up.. Wake— Yeah, that was about it.

Everything else was an objective agenda. You were a sufficient klutz, whatever that paper was. You ponder, in your inner monologue while you’re tapping your push-pen on your school desk in Inarizaki.

“— And we’ll be designing our own living rooms as part of the Course Outline for Interior Studies in the general subject.”

You had a best friend, continuing to ignore the incessant babbles, you say as you write a little note to remind yourself to think of a living room design to finish the work quickly later. You had a best friend, who you can easily say is the main character of life. You swear, as she sat close to the window, and how she wasn’t mean, she was charming; it was so hard not to like her. But she’s also insecure, keeps to herself enough, having you by her side.

“Hear that ‘Samu?”

“What now, ‘Sumu?”

“Interior Designin’! Weren’t ya listenin’ ya scrub.” Bleach-blonde hair.“What about it?” Disinterest; Bleached hair too, but ash-grey.

“Ain’t Kori-Kori real good at stuff like this?”

You observed the two famed twins of Inarizaki High. Actually no, you were forced to; how? Well, you sat between them, not like that ever stopped anyone, nor did it ever interfere with your boring experience of being a 2nd mid-year Senior. You just wanted to get up, and leave, get a job or something; not going to lie.

“Is there anyone talking at the back right there? Anything the class would like to hear, pretty sure.” Professor said, which immediately shut the two up, the other was blatant and oblivious, even whistling.

“Guessed so.” Your professor went on right after.

Your chin was resting on the heel of your palm now, but you felt someone roughly, no really, they roughly tapped your shoulder, the touch was from a clearly heavy hand. It came from your right, which was…

“Hey missy, pass this on to my brother, will ‘ya?” He grinned widely, his other hand that held the pen used to write a note in the torn paper from his notebook that most likely didn’t have any notes despite it being mid-year. You let out a bit of a grunt, not moving from your position, but you did use your hand that was tapping your table to pass it on to the other Miya without sparing a glance.

“...”

“...”

Your arm was about to die. 

You turned to the other Miya, a small frown on your face as he ignored your outstretched hand, his eyes were closed, arms crossed but he was definitely not sleeping, it was obvious enough. So you tried to aggressively wave your arm that held the letter while keeping an eye on the doting teacher upfront, trying not to be obvious. His brother had noticed that he was ignoring you as well, shrugging when your frown deepened, back straightening on your desk, your free hand now tapping on your table instead of being a rest for your head.

“Hey ‘Samu ‘ya jerk…!” Atsumu whispered, a volume tad higher, to his brother who proceeded to ignore him; and technically, you too.

You groaned and ignored the two, equally annoying twins that are involving you into a situation you don’t want to get involved in. So you just slammed, actually no, not slammed exactly but you did harshly place the torn paper that contained some unnamed letter from Atsumu directed to Osamu. Wistfully, this was noticed by your professor.

“Y/N. I believe it’s been made clear that passing notes is not allowed in my class, rather, on any occasion that involves other subjects as well.” They scolded.

You sucked a breath in between your teeth, your hand ran through your hair in an attempt to calm you down. “Switch seats with Yokori. This seating will last ‘till the end of the year, ‘lest you misbehave again. This applies to everyone else who has been swapped constantly.”

Yokori gave you a solemn smile, knowing you hated this, she gathered her belongings and quickly sat to avoid any more trouble; even opting to give you a pat on your shoulder on the way to her desk near the window, though not quite beside. One classmate separated you from being directly beside the scenery of school grounds that held the gym where your schools’ famous volleyball team resides for practices. Actually, this classmate was one of their players, Suna Rintaro? Your impression on him was that he was quiet… Enough, if not provoked or talked to at all, which you guessed was part of your luck. Because you were definitely not going to talk to him, less it required you to by any of your classes together.

So you sat, your professor continued, and your eyes landed on your best friend that sat on your previous seat, since your first year of middle school. Bored expression on once again, your thoughts dialed back, and you noticed a quick interaction from Atsumu towards your best friend who flushed slightly from the two’s attention, noticing that even the twin who ignored you earlier began perking up, just a little bit. And the feeling was slight but you felt a tinge of annoyance, proceeding to push it to the back of your mind, not letting the feelings against your best friend surface. Because she was good, and undeserving of it, obviously.

The bell rang, it was time for lunch!

Lunch is a happy time, because you can buy yourself chocolate, and you can, well, eat lunch. What else is there for? You were bored out of your mind at home after doing your homework, and studying enough for the day so you practiced cooking. Which you admit, was very enjoyable, especially when you finish. Today was tuna sushi rolls, seaweed-strapped spam meat, seasoned rice, and hot tamarind soup in your insulating tumbler. You didn’t notice light gray irisess eyeing you in your little daydream about your lunch for today.

���Y/N, you good?” Yokori, said best friend went next to you, who had just finished gathering your lunch bag. You nodded, smile small. “Yep, let’s go.”

The class dispersed quickly, you two walked side-by-side as she timidly told you a story about her situation earlier.

“So Atsumu-san was passing notes to his brother Osamu, right? T’was so weird because they kept asking me questions, but Atsumu-san was nice, he wanted help with that Interior Designing project we have going on.” She laughed, scratching her cheek. You nodded along to her story, she was used to your rather quiet demeanor, she knew you were still listening. “They said it’d be cool to attend their after-school volleyball practice.”

“Mmh. Really? They’re annoying though.” You humored her, to which she chuckled.

“I mean… It shouldn’t be bad to try it, right?” She said with a big grin, bright.

You jutted your lips forward as you bobbed your head in agreement, already taking your chopsticks and lunch out when you found a free table. “I guess so.” You said, mouth chewing on a roll.

You pour a portion of soup to get the food down your throat onto your tumbler’s cap that serves as the cup, and drank, “So I told them you’re coming with me, I’d be too nervous by myself… Hehe..” and spat.

“Kori, what?”

“Come with me…” She looked at you, nervously smiling with her eyebrows raised in mock questioning, “-please.”

“Okay.”

“I promise, I’ll ask you next ti— wait, really? Holy shit, Y/N, thank you! I’ll pay you back, for sure. I didn’t expect you to agree quickly, d’you have a crush on any of the VBC members, perhaps?” She teased.

You were eating continually, mouth full of rice as you pointed your metal chopsticks toward her. Speaking with your mouth full, “I don’t think there was any point trying to say no if I’d say yes in the end anyway. It already happened, what can I really do?”

She nodded in understanding, you were always like this, relaxed about what happened around. It was worth idolizing, at least. Your head felt like it was burning, the back, you mean. Was someone staring?

You were now sitting outside of the gym, deciding to hang around outside instead of watching sweaty boys play for hours. Kori became more relaxed, so you took the go-mark and asked to leave when you noticed that she was. The team was fond of her, you note, Shinsuke Kita the Captain even thanking her for thinking of buying them snacks and helping them around with their manager to fill up the boys’ water bottles. The team gave her attention and copied their captain in terms of providing gratification for her deeds. You heard her ‘lax conversation next to the banter with the twins that was a normal recurrence.

You were simply a drifting particle, a bystander.

Actually wait, you remembered that you had packed yourself a little snack in case you had to stay in school for some surprise activity you forgot about, or situations like this exactly. So you took out your little box of homemade onigiris, not noticing the figure looming at the door. It was their break, and you were about to bite.

“Hey, that yours?” You hear, stopping your bite mid-way, turning your head to see ash-grey.

“Huh.”

“Ya deaf or what, missy?” The nerve.

You looked at him, and bit on the prism-shaped rice, then looked forward once again, closing your eyes even. ‘Till you heard shuffling and a sleazy figure sitting next to yours. That was when you opened your eyes, mouth slightly agape. Osamu Miya, sat next to you, his legs spread, and his arms were holding his whole posture as his head faced yours.

“If yer gonna look at me like that, the least ya could do is gimme one, little miss.”

You shook your head and swallowed. “Stop calling me little miss, old man.”

“Hoho, old man?” He says, humoring you, you can smell his cologne from here, mixed with sweat from his practice. He leaned forward, his arms now intertwining, resting on his knees, he was facing you with a small smile.

“Yeah, I’d call you shit hair but your hair ain’t the color.” You shrugged, but it was the type of shrug where you slightly move your hands outward. So when you did, the hand that held your bitten snack was when the big fox ate his fill. “Mm, tastes good.”

“Fucki-” You screeched. His eyes went wide when you just shoved the onigiri in his mouth, “It has your germs now, better not choke, gran’pa.”

Osamu was trying to give you a snide reply back but he couldn’t, with the rice stuck in, he just kept chewing. As you stood up and yelled to Kori that you were leaving. You were a side character, nothing more, you thought; as you walked away from the boy who had tried reaching to you, but you failed to notice.

“So… He invited me to their house to hang out.” Yokori said happily on the phone, you were trying to sketch a few designs you felt like doing so hummed, already quite satisfied, spinning on your chair right after. “So…”

“No.”

“But I haven’t said anything yet!”

“You were about to ask me if I can come with you because you’re nervous to go alone, the usual, hm?”

“...”

“Hm?”

“...Yes.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“N-”

“I’ll order you takeout pizza!”

“...Okay.”

You heard her cheering yes! On the other line, to which you just slumped in your chair to. And so, the day came and you were right behind Kori, who was knocking on the Miya residence as of the moment. The one who greeted the both of you was Osamu Miya, you internally groaned, their parents were off, you heard.

“Tsumu!” Your best friend smiles, greeting the other twin brightly; and smiling so wide at the twin at the door. “Hello ‘Samu!” She said, before the blonde had pushed past the door to beam at her.

“Brought your li’l friend along, cutie?” Atsumu jokes, rustling your friend’s hair before beckoning the two of you to come in. You walk past Osamu who you had mild grudges with. Your friend turned to you, “I’ll be helping Atsumu with some plates for the project, we’ll be up in his room!” She said, innocently.

“Mmh, okay. I’ll stay here?” You asked, more to yourself, you didn’t really know where to stay. This wasn’t your place.

“Accommodate the guest ‘Samu, I need’a do important school stuff.” Atsumu waved off as the two walked up the stairs on the way to the boy’s room, pretty sure. You stood there in the middle for a couple minutes, unsure. The renowned ‘less annoying’ Miya was sitting on one of their kitchen stools, his cheek digging into his palm, just staring at you. You stared back. He stared back. You were both staring.

You broke. “Not gonna let me sit, or anything?”

“Sit anywhere or something.” He droned, still looking at you. He was enjoying it.

So you looked at the couch beside you, then spared a glance at him, about to sit until he spoke again, “Hmm, not there.” He said in his low voice that contained an underline of mockery, you were sure. Though to him, it was simply amusing, to watch you that is. If anyone outside the two of your observing based gazes, he was actually sporting a noticeable smile. A small triangle smile, as if he was shy to make it any bigger, in hopes of hiding something.

You tried the two other chairs, the floor, leaning on a wall, but it was all a reject. You were embarrassed every time. Did you really have to go through all this just to get takeout pizza? You’d have to ask more later, that's for sure. So you tried for a last option, there was a tall stool right beside his, and well, three others far from him. So you tried the farthest tall stool from him, which was the far left. He shook his head no, you furrowed your eyebrows, you moved to the second stool, still no? Every move made your head wrinkle further down ‘till you reached the last seat, right next to him. To which he finally said, “Got it, pretty girl.” with a big boyish grin.

You didn’t have time to react to the nickname before finally letting out a sigh as you stretched your arms, and legs before laying your head on your arms that were resting on the table in front. That whole interaction probably took at least half an hour, you didn’t really know, you didn’t have a watch. “Pretty, my ass.”

He hummed, resting his head on his arms as well, though he was facing you. “Yer ass is.”

“The fuck.”

“Ya got a bad mouth.”

You groaned, and buried your face in your arms. Wanting to escape this. But you were lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t subconsciously enjoy his attention. You weren’t used to it, you weren’t supposed to feel this, right? It wasn’t, it just, it’s not you. Right? You shook your head to which the boy watched you do, getting your head up, posture straight and looking at him. He looked back, like he always seems to do.

“What do you want from me?” You say.

Osamu kept his mouth shut, still looking into you, thinking of what to say. Unwilling himself to tell you what he’d rather. So he asked a question, “D’ya cook?”

“Yeah, I make my own lunch and snacks.” You said, wary. Already feeling suspicious, you raise both your brows.

“Let’s cook.” He suggests.

Here’s the thing, you can’t do anything right if someone’s watching you too intently. It feels awkward, who in their right mind is able to do this right when he’s gripping your wrist that was stirring the batter for what the both of you decided to make, muffins.

“Ya gotta put in the right amount of strength.” He instructed.

“I’m starting to regret mentioning that I don’t bake often.” You thought, you thought you just thought that it was only in your thoughts. Oh no, you were becoming redundant, was it always this hot?

“Yer burnin’ figuratively, and literally. By that, your eyeballs are wide as fuck.” Osamu pointed out, he was biting his lip, to keep from a wide smile. “Tryna bake with yer hot gaze?”

What? “Huh.”

Now Osamu had wide eyes, I think it came off more sultry than intended. So he moved away from you as if you were burning his skin, though technically, you really were. Playing it cool. “What?”

“My what.”

“Yer… What?”

You were staring at him with a confused expression, about to open your mouth when, “Hey scrub! Make me a snack, I’m starvin’ over here.” Atsumu yelled from the room, you heard Kori’s small laugh and a faint, “Don’t be so mean, ‘Tsum.”

“Right. Let’s put ‘em in the tray then straight to the oven, yeah?” Osamu started, standing next to you, his face was not quite visible due to his wide shoulders, if you knew better, he might be obstructing your vision to not see the steaming heat from his ears. Spoiler, you did. But you chose not to poke at a sleeping bear.

“You sick? Got red ears?” You poked at a sleeping bear.

Actually, you were expecting a snark reply, it was easier that way. Just be sarcastic back. It was when the both of you were done, and placed the tray containing the muffin batter in the oven to bake, did Osamu dip his index finger in the bowl of slightly empty batter, facing you, and licking it off his finger. You really tried, you did; you tried not to look at the way he did that so unabashed. Dipping the same finger on the last remaining batter before menacingly leaning closer to you, inches from your face. If you could measure it exactly, 2.8 inches? So close.

Your weight moved from the heel of your foot to the front, again and again, what was he doing?

“What are you—?” You began before you got cut off by his finger wiping the batter on your lips, it made it look like you had a mustache. You stood there surprised for a few seconds, not knowing how to react, and hated how you expected something so different. It was until you heard a click of a camera and a low chuckle vibrate from the boy in front of you that you took the few remaining flour that was right in your reach to throw it in front of his face, making a huge fog of flour. He coughed for a bit, his eyes were glistening as he took the bowl next to him, using his whole hand to wipe leftover batter, getting ready to chase you.

You noticed. So you ran, but not without screaming, the leftover flour bag in your hand.

“No, please,”

“You asked for it, pretty girl.” He replied breathily, both of you were circling the kitchen island.

It took a good ten minutes before he decided to jump the island, and ran to quickly get hold of you with both of his arms, his hair tickling the side of your neck which made you laugh too hard, flour was all over his hair and apron, you failed to notice the handprint of batter right on your chest because you were struggling so hard to get off his grip. He was laughing too, you put on your scowling face, though not really mad, to face him, who in turn faced you as well. You didn’t notice the distance between the two of you was nearly non-existent; I repeat, nearly.

“Hey ‘Samu! I’m starvin’ and I smell yer bakin way over in my room.” You heard quick footsteps down the stairs, which made you jump in your skin. But even with that speed, you were still caught. Because Atsumu had an unreadable expression, “This place is a mess! Did we interrupt too early, hm?” Kori taking a peek right behind Atsumu.

You heard a dry cough from the other twin, facing the other direction, you facing the other as well. None of you spoke in time, so you took it. “No, uh, we weren’t, nothing was happening.”

“The scene of the crime is proof!” Atsumu pushed, teasing, as he continued his way down next to Kori.

“Shut it ‘ya scrub.”

“Yer the scrub, scrub.” They started bickering, real easy like that, trying to beat each other up. You noticed Kori walking down the stairs as well, first with an expression you couldn’t quite place, as if she was thinking deeply. But when she noticed you looking, she quickly changed into a bright smile, even sporting a blush, ready to tell a story about what happened behind the closed doors of Atsumu’s bedroom.

The day ended quickly after that, Osamu forced Atsumu to help the both of you to clean the kitchen while Kori volunteered to. It continued on like that, Kori dragging you into one of her meetings with Atsumu, you complaining but coming anyway, and you end up stuck with Osamu as she goes to her rendezvous with Atsumu that at this point, you have no idea what they’re doing. You just tag along.

Right now, you were beside Osamu in the gym during their break from training. Near the door, his teammates a good few distance away as he sat on a bench with his usual posture. Slumped back, his arms arching, one behind you that you fail to think of anything. Just as a general position. You were voicing out a thought you had in a while, seriously.

“So I was balls deep into ghosts way back—”

He looked at you, disgusted. “GROSS,” Shoving you lightly, “God, please never, ever say ‘balls deep in ghosts’ to anyone ever again. I feel like washin’ my mouth having to repeat that.” He even added this mild shudder that was just an exaggeration.

“What? What’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t really want to think about anyone having sex with a ghost.”

“Huh, who said anything about ghost sex?”

“You did, Y/N! Just now!”

“I didn’t—Oh, holy shit. No. Oh no.”

“What?”

“Does ‘balls deep’ not mean you’re standing in, like, the shallow end of the pool, metaphorically. Like up to your balls or something.”

“No! Balls deep is—It’s…”

“Balls deep is…”

“Why are you two talking about balls?” Suna interjected, acting as if he was just hearing about your conversation now. He was actually listening since the start, noticing the short distance between the both of you, interest hiding behind his eyes. “Balls, as in, dick or something? That’s wild.”

“Suna, no!” You screeched.

Osamu was biting back a laugh. The team was watching the three of you converse, getting used to the sight of you with their teammate. Assuming other things up the clouds. Atsumu was watching his brother with hawk eyes, and so was the girl next to him, Kori, though she was looking at you. If Suna was being honest, he didn’t notice any form of chemistry between your friend and the piss haired twin. They were all smiles and bright, but they always looked like they were thinking of something different. Though he doesn’t know anything about it.

Practice ended. It’s been months, and your interactions with Osamu have gotten more laxed. Your thoughts about being nothing more than a side-character was starting to change, because with him, you felt that you were a number one choice. You felt that you were a main character. Osamu felt the same, being with you felt like time was moving too fast and he wanted to spend it more with you, he was becoming insatiable. With you, he didn’t feel second to his brother for once. Lingering touches, his hand forgetting to unhook from yours, and his arm slinking around your shoulders as he yawns and asks for one of your homemade snacks as he starts to make some after-school snacks to give back to you. 

You were invading his mind as much as he was invading yours. Sitting next to you during lunch, asking what’s in your bento, vice versa. Why was everything sailing so smooth? It was like it was just him and you. You heard rumors from the Miya fans that they were thinking you were Osamu Miya’s girlfriend. Forgetting your inferiority, sometimes the universe was just cruel, so it had to humble you.

“Atsumu and I broke up.” Kori sobbed.

Not to you, but to Osamu. You gripped your bag’s strap tightly. You peeled your lip with your teeth until the middle bled, so you sucked in the pain. No, you were not the protagonist. You weren’t, you never will be, and you never are in the past, present, and future. So you sucked in a breath to collect yourself, seeing Osamu pat the girl to attempt and comfort her, badmouthing his brother. “Sorry,” Her first gripped his shirt tighter.

“Osamu, please. It’s—I always liked you. It was just you.”

She wasn’t a bad person. She wasn’t, but why? You wanted to hit her, that, or jump off a building and die. None of them noticed you yet, at least that’s what you thought, but the sobbing girl had already seen you before she started bawling, and the other twin was forced to give her a tight, but awkward hug.

“Yokori… I liked you.” 

You were about to walk to them normally after licking your lips from the blood, wanting to appear as a third party, to not let this happen. It just can’t. but you were pulled back by your collar. Who—

“Atsumu?”

He put his index finger in front of his lips to silence you, “Shh.”

So you followed him confused, he held your hand away from the scene. Leading you to the gates, the school half-empty, their practice about to start in half an hour or so. “Atsumu, why?” You croaked. 

He had his eyes widened a bit, why? Actually, why did he pull you from that scene? His other hand that didn’t hold yours, which you didn’t bother to remove with the energy seeping out of your body quickly; it was taking everything in you not to break down. It went to his nape, rubbing it in question to himself, why? It was just that, seeing you staring at a scene when he knew you liked his brother, at a scene too painful, for a best friend who was just trying to do their paper, he knew. So his arms safely wrapped around you as you stared dead into his eyes, looking at his features that resembled the other who had unknowingly captured your heart.

Your bleeding lip trembled, your eyes turned glossy of the tears held back, Atsumu looked at you, empathetic. He broke up with your best friend because he couldn’t see it happen, every time he saw you with his brother, that wasn’t what they both had. They were simply not meant to be, and he was fine, he just didn’t know, but he was glad that because of it, he found out that she liked his brother more than she did him. He’d be angry, he should be, for his sake, but he wasn’t angry for him, he was angry for you. 

He hid your face into his chest instead.  You didn’t sob, solely because you thought you didn’t deserve to. But you cried, you let your tears soak in, “You look like him too much.”

“Shhh, I know—” Sigh. “It’s okay. You don’t have to look at me.” He said, trying his best to comfort you, caressing your hair. As a pair of grey eyes watched the scene from a distance, unable to hear, but able to see. Maybe he saw too much as he grimaced.  

Osamu tried his best not to punch his brother right in the jaw, or push him away so he could yell everything he’d kept cooped up inside before you came running along, turning monochrome into a saturated-vision of the world. His teeth were pressing down on each other hard enough, he thought it might break, and shatter, just like his heart did. Of course, you chose his brother. Everyone always does. Every time he thinks he’s got it all, it’s all swiped underneath by his twin. Everyone says that it wasn’t their talents, or skills in volleyball that was the greatest gift they had ever received in life. It was their twin. But right now, he just thinks he was a curse he had to always deal with.

He jolted as he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Suna.

“Practice. Kita’s calling. Call your brother.” The ever-observant boy runs over as he scans the scene, and hisses as he sees you wrapped in his brother’s arms. Though he knew more than that, he had first-class seats to this theatrical after all. But he’d rather not be part of the act club, it wasn’t his forte.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Osamu replied, briefly. A bit tense, still.

He looked back to Atsumu who had let you go, and you who were walking away already. On the way to your home, he was sure. But he can’t help but cringe, thinking of it as your way of walking away from him.

“Practice! ‘Sumu!” He yelled, devoid of anything.

You jolted, you were a bit far but he yelled really loud you could still hear it. This didn’t go unnoticed by him, but you were both overcome by swirling emotions that stopped both of you to do the bare minimum, smile and wave, no after-school snacks. Atsumu jogged towards them, not noticing his brother’s attempt at hiding his huge frown. Practice was hell for Osamu, he didn’t want to see his brother right now, not when he still thinks of your precious little form hugging his brother’s, not his.

When his brother accidentally served a ball hitting Osamu behind the head, it was more of a switch for his anger; his rage.

“Fucking hell.” He said, turning viciously towards his brother who was uttering lighthearted apologies. It wasn’t until he started stalking towards Atsumu did the team start watching them like hawks, Aran thinking it’s just another one of their silly fights. But that thought was cut off when Osamu suddenly launched a fist towards Atsumu. “Ya just get off on this, huh? Ya get off on giving me bullshit every time.”

“Woah, ‘Samu I said I was sorry. What the fuck.” Atsumu said, brows furrowed, voice starting to get scratchy at his brother’s tight grip on the collar of his shirt. His hand quickly gripped his brother’s wrist tied to his shirt, attempting to get it off him, starting to get riled up from getting hit out of nowhere. “What’s your fuckin’ problem?” He said, about to kick his brother off of him.

“You. You just took everything from me, ‘Sumu. You took them.” 

Osamu breathed heavily as Kita instructed the team to peel the twins away from each other as this wasn’t one of their silly fights at all. It held other issues. The captain knew that practice wouldn’t be able to continue like this, so he made them do drills before allowing them to go home. Looking pointedly at the Miya’s. The two brothers did what they were told to, going off to do their drills, and getting ready to go home.

They were walking silently side-by-side, both faces covered with a frown, Atsumu’s face having a bruise by the jaw whilst Samu didn’t have a scratch, only because Atsumu was realizing where it all came from.

“Did ya see?”

“Fuck you.”

“Look— It’s not what ya think, ya idiot.” Atsumu started, Osamu raised his brow at his brother. “I don’t want to say anything. Figure things out yourself, scrub.” Then the blonde started walking faster, leaving his brother behind to ponder.

The next day came by, he tried calling you but it never got through. Did you block him? What did he do? Did you really get repulsed by him to avoid him to that extent? That involved his texts getting left unanswered. You didn’t come to school today, he asked Kori, who he had rejected yesterday, and who was supposed to know about you more than he did. Though he was aware that you often felt inferior to her, as he told you the same about his brother, it was a feeling that you two were all too familiar with.

“I don’t know where she is, I’m sorry. She’s not talking to me either.” 

Osamu stayed quiet at that, he thought you just needed time. So he let it go, looking forward to talking to you the following days. But that was the problem, you weren’t there in the following days either. He knew where you lived but he didn’t want to impose as your family didn’t know him very well yet either. He stopped himself from visiting until it hit the second week of your absence. Where were you? Why have you disappeared as if you never existed in the first place? He was growing worried, he wanted you to exist. He loved existing when you were around. And he wanted to clear everything up after getting multiple clues from Suna, and his brother, obviously.

It was until the class of the second week you were gone, when Osamu promised to visit your house after school, did their teacher tell them news that tore Osamu in half.

“One of our students Y/N L/N has transferred schools. The administration just finished filing her transfer after her visit yesterday, she didn’t get to say goodbye as her family moved out the same day. That’s about it, the first class is Physics. Have a nice day ahead, students.”

His ears were ringing. You were gone. Gone like the liquid that slipped past his hold. Atsumu looked at his brother in pity, knowing how much he had lost at that time. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t hear Osamu crying in the shower when they got home. Or when he tried to not get his snot on his pillows, sniffling in the night. His heart ached for his brother.

It’s been years since 2nd year in High School, and Osamu has just opened up Onigiri Miya. His brother had gone pro on Volleyball, and he couldn’t be more proud. He still finds himself thinking back to a few months of pure bliss in highschool, and he tried dating a fair share as well, in hopes that he’ll get what he had with you. He didn’t. So he dedicated himself to his work, and his passion: cooking. A few more years and his business was a success, to which was hell for the first few months, having no investors, and all. He was wiping down his counter, black cap on, his hair not having the same old bleached-grey hair. Instead, it was back to his natural dark hair.

“What is this place, really?” 

“The name reminds me of someone from my highschool days. But I only heard about it now, is it really good?”

“Yeah, totally! We should bring our superiors here, and see if we get a few favors, hmm? The onigiri here is a star-choice.” Osamu sees someone turned around, laughing prettily, smiling all-wide, they were bright. Until the same eyes he used to look at in such a close distance, caught his own. His heart skipped two beats, or maybe skipped beating this whole time, maybe he died because god, did he finally send his angel back to him?

It was when you uttered his name under your breath, from the entrance that rang the bell prior to the conversation he overheard earlier did he confirm it. “Hey pretty girl,” he says, as he takes off his cap, ruffles his hair, chuckling deeply, and looking directly back at you; your heart spasms. “Where have you been?”

Bonus:

“Yeah, he was a real bitch when I first talked to him in high school.” You badmouthed him loudly from your table, which made him yell from the kitchen, “I was trying to see if you’ll take my hand and put the note there, okay!” Laughing, you didn’t notice him stalking behind you until he placed a kiss on your cheek. “Grumpy-ass.”

Living with 'Samu! ⁆ End Credits