#i really hope the writer's block is over because it has been strong too long and frustrating

[loftec]

Shameless DVD Commentary: None the wiser

I was tagged by a lovely anon over at @shamelessdvdcommentary to do this, thank you! Here we gooo

Which fanfic is your DVD commentary about?

The people (11 out of 20) have spoken! None the wiser

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc)

First published: 2015-09-23 (coming up on 9 years what is time??)

Last updated: 2021-12-11 (holy heck that's... shit! I'm sorry!)

Words: 218,480 and counting

Chapters: 53/68

What was the initial inspiration for your story?

A little bit of everything, mostly I'd been reading a lot of Shameless fic at the time and really wanted to write something that was both a really quite basic diner/coffee shop AU, but The Most version of it. The slowest burn, the most diner AU. I had no ambition for people to like it but I wanted it to be Known. If anyone ever asked for a diner fic, they'd HAVE to say, well, NTW is The Most diner fic we've got. If someone asked for slow burn, people would sigh and say, WELL, this one over here is the worst, but it is very slow. And also I was inspired by Before Sunrise / Before Sunset, and working in the music industry.

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character?

I chose Mickey specifically because of the Concept, that Ian decides when the chapters start and end (with some exceptions) by going to the diner, but we're limited to Mickey's POV. Generally I think Mickey is easier for me to write, too, he's got a really strong voice and I like looking at the world (and Ian) through his eyes.

What was your favourite scene to write?

The whole banter/walk scene in chapter 44 when they leave the venue:

“Sure you and your lips can do whatever you set your heart to,” he says, “I believe in you.” Ian is silent, and when Mickey risks a glance in the direction of him and his non-trumpeting goddamned marvelous lips, Ian is looking at him like he’s some kind of unsolved mystery. ”What?” Mickey asks, frowning at him when Ian smiles. “Just a thought,” he says. ”You’ve been flirting with me since we first met, haven’t you?”

I had that whole back and forth leading up to the first kiss in my head for years before I got to finally got around to write it and I still love it.

How did you come up with the title?

It's from a song, one of the core songs I associate with this fic. My playlist now has 149 tracks on it, but the ones I consider "core songs" are None the wiser, Day After Tomorrow, Let's Dance, How I Made My Millions, Not Dark Yet, and Mosquitoes. I'm not sure I can explain why, but None The Wiser came on randomly when I was doing dishes and thinking about this fic I was writing, and the vibes just lined up in my head. Also I think it fits this version of Mickey I'm writing, who knows so much and has so much experience, but refuses to understand what's happening when Ian walks into his life.

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice?

Oh, wow. Yeah. I always reference silly little things and I just have to hope people understand them, or tolerate them at least. I think one of my favourite bit of foreshadowing is in chapter 39 when people keep staring at Ian because they obviously recognise him, but Mickey thinks staring at Ian is a completely reasonable thing to do and is mostly just annoyed over how blatant they're being.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this?

I am struggling right now lol, I had meticulous notes for what I wanted to happen for every single chapter up until 45, and now half of them say "they text all day" and I'm like THANKS!!! VERY HELPFUL!! Also life and writers block etc etc.

Favourite line in the story?

This is such a hard choice, so I'll just go with this one from chapter 42:

“So,” Ian says, sitting back to sweep his arms out in a wide motion, presenting his solution. “I think we should go out for breakfast sometime.”

Because to me it pinpoints the moment when Ian breaks the format, in a way? They have met outside the diner before, but only on accident, and here Ian realises that it might be a problem that they only ever hang out at Mickey's job. But metatextually, he also highlights the narrative crux they're stuck in. I don't know, is that a boring favourite line? I have many, and I grabbed the first one I saw so I wouldn't get stuck rereading the whole fic lol. Do you have a favourite line?

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story?

So much, it's hard to believe because there isn't too much of a plot, but so much. My planned ending is so far from what it was when I started out, which is maybe one blessing that comes from how long it's taking me to write it, I have time to rethink things. I can't really talk about it now without spoiling the actual ending, but you better believe I will expose myself once we get to it.

If you are writing a particular trope or genre, was it your first time writing this?

I'd written fic for a different fandom ten years earlier, but nothing in this style I don't think, and this was my first time writing since I was 20 and stopped writing jrock rpf. I suppose I'm still writing about music, though!

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc)

One of the things I've always wanted to do with writing for Ian and Mickey is to let them have conversations, have things in common, and be friends. Because I think they were in canon, we just never got to see it (in the first 5 seasons, careful what you wish for). Guess I'm saying I'm proud of the bants!

Are there any deleted scenes that didn’t make it to the final story?

I don't think so! I mean, maybe the last 15 chapters? I kid! They will make it!

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a characters head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line?

There is one line Ian says where, when I wrote it, I was like; this is the first time Ian thinks "I love you" but says something else. Cannot remember what or where right now, and I don't want to try and find it, it's late! Submit your guesses here, I might find it over the weekend if I have some time to look. Also, it's like one of those silly I love yous, one of the early ones, full of potential and feeling but perhaps lacking a bit in substance, but he thought it and I saw him thinking it!

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add?

Eh *coughs* I might already have, and I apologise. The worst part about writing something this slowly and posting the chapters as I go is that the fic isn't finished and so I feel like it's fine for me to sometimes go back and edit already published chapters. It's not right but I... will still do it. Sorry! A most embarrassing example is when, not too long ago, we discussed the layout of the diner here and I went back to the first chapter to see how I had described it, and it had changed in so many ways over the years? Small round tables?? The tables haven't been round since 2016!! So that's a very clear case of something having become canon for all the hundred little times I've thought of the tables as square while writing vs that one time in chapter one I carelessly said they were round.

Would you ever write a sequel to this story?

Yes! So many! Or maybe not a sequel, that suggests another part of equal size. But little bits of stories, yes!

If you’ve chosen your most popular story, are you surprised by the popularity?

Yes! Like I said, my only aim was to annoy my way to fandom infamy. Turns out it's so much more fun to actually connect with people and write something with someone else in mind, besides myself. I feel so lucky that so many people have connected with NTW over the years <3

Were you nervous or excited to post this story?

Mostly just excited, I think! I still am, whenever I get to post something : )

Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote?

No, I probably should have but I have a very hard time showing things to people when they're not finished.

Ask your followers to pick a snippet (no more than 500 words) and share your thoughts about it.

Add snippets in the replies and I'll share thoughts, if you want!

Thanks for reading! <3 <3 <3

[yourmomxx]

Jason Todd / Red Hood anxious to get you under the mistletoe cause he is in love with you so bad and doesn't know what to do because he is afraid to scare you away if he confess

loving this request right now - I hope you like how it turned out!

Word Count: 2,2k

Warnings: none, 13+

A/N: author was stuck deep in a writer’s block while doing this, so if you don’t like it lmk and I’ll redo it for you <3

You loved Christmas. Even more than every other holiday. That was a fact that everyone knew, because every year you made it everyone’s problem.

Not that they minded, you were sweet about it. Like when you started singing Christmas songs in mid November.

Or when you took Tim to a Christmas market to help him get his mind off his exams.

Yes, christmas was your favorite time of the year. And gift giving was your specialty.

Though, this year you had decided you needed to be extra careful with gift shopping than usual. Because you had a plan.

See, there was this guy you had a crush on, his name was Jason Todd.

You and him had been friends for a long time, you were even good with his family and invited to all their gatherings. So, naturally, you spent Christmas with them, too.

And this year, you had told yourself, you were going to tell Jason how you really felt about him. What better reason than the most romantic time of the year?

You were going to pull him aside while everyone was busy with the presents, you were going to give him his and then you were going to tell him you loved him.

And nothing could go wrong. Unless he rejected you. But you were secure that your friendship would survive it if your feelings were unrequited. Until then you could just hope they were not.

You took a deep breath and stepped outside into the snowy landscape to go for a walk. There were still some things to do before you had to be at Wayne Manor.

Back in an upstairs apartment in Gotham City, shielded from the snow and cold temperatures, Jason Todd was standing in the kitchen and stuffing a turkey for the upcoming Christmas dinner, while his brothers Tim Drake and Duke Thomas were draped across the sofa, taunting him.

Because they didn’t have much better to do.

Duke had his legs crossed and batted his eyelashes as he spoke in an over dramatic female voice: “Oh, Jason, you have such beautiful and strong arms I’m sure they would be great at picking me up and carrying me into the sunset!”

Cue Tim in a deep voice: “Oh now but Y/N, I can’t do that, because I’m way too scared that you’ll reject me when I tell you my real feelings!”

“I don’t sound like that,” Jason grumbled.

Tim scoffed. “You wish.”

“I’m gonna get my gun.”

“Relax Jay were just teasing you.” Tim lifted up his hands in surrender.

“Seriously it’s mistletoe-time, man,” Duke said, “They’re everywhere. Just … take them under one and kiss them. It ain’t that hard.”

“I will in fact not do that.”

“Why not?”

Jason put some spices away and wiped his hands at the dish towel hanging at his waist. “Because. It could ruin the entire friendship we have if they don’t like it, and even if, just kissing someone like that is super unromantic.”

But the truth was that Jason was scared. Yes, him, Jason Todd, and in his mind it was absolutely ridiculous. He had died and come back to life, he was a vigilante at night, he had fought the Batman himself.

And yet, what made his hands shake and heart beat faster was the thought of kissing you under a mistletoe. What made his jaw clench was the thought of someone else getting to you before he did.

And that, in his mind, was ridiculous.

Duke threw his head back and groaned. “Oh come on, you big baby. You don’t have much of a choice here anymore. I want a mom, and Bruce sure as hell isn’t gonna get on with Selina soon, so you and Y/N are my next best choice.”

“Y/N does make amazing PB&J’s,” Tim agreed.

“Silence, both of you. Or I will tell Santa that you don’t deserve your presents.”

Tim grinned. “Ha, nice try, asshole. I stopped believing in Santa when I was six.”

“That’s when everyone starts believing in Santa,” Duke said.

“Yes because you all fall victim to parent’s mind control and illusion. Couldn’t be me, suckers.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “How mature you are.” He opened the oven and carefully put the roaster inside. ”Well then, come on, you two heroes of Gotham. This turkey needs some time in the oven and I-“ He picked up his keys “-still need a few presents.”

Duke jumped up and rubbed his hands together in excitement. “Ooh, last-minute Christmas shopping. This is a Hallmark movie.”

“Shut up and put on some shoes.”

—

That night, at Wayne Manor, Christmas was in full swing.

From ornate chandeliers (thanks in no small part to you) to landscape art made out of fake snow on the huge windows.

The entire building smelled of cinnamon and tangerines, and small loudspeakers in the corners softly played Silent Night.

It was shortly after the huge feast together, the whole family and unofficial family members were invited.

Jason had brought his ready-made turkey, Steph brought hilariously decorated Christmas cookies, Dick and Barbara brought the appetizers.

Now everyone had gathered in the living room, in which stood the huge Christmas tree (and I mean massive, department store size), decorated in dark red and gold.

Bruce, wearing an elegant black tux, stood up, holding a glass in his hand and carefully clinking a spoon against it to get everyone's attention.

When silence fell, he raised the glass.

"My dear friends, relatives," he said, "It is my pleasure to welcome you here today. Christmas is the festival of joy, love and gratitude, and I want to thank you. For the good times we have spent together - day and night - and for always being able to count on your support when I need it." He held up his glass solemnly. "I wish Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you!"

"Merry Christmas!" It rang out in several voices, and glasses were raised and toasted everywhere.

Jason pushed past Stephanie and stood next to you.

"Merry Christmas," he said in your ear. His breath tickled your neck.

"Merry Christmas," you said back.

He looked up and down at you and you felt your heart start beating faster.

Then he grinned and leaned closer to you. "You look amazing today. Red really is your color."

Your breath caught in your throat and you looked up at him.

“Thanks,” you breathed out. You didn’t trust your voice to do much more.

He stayed focused on you for a second, dark blue eyes reflecting the light of the Christmas tree, when suddenly, the door bell rang and you winced, startled.

“That has to be the carol singers, Master Wayne,” you heard Alfred say and Bruce nodded.

“Well then, we’ll greet them. In the meanwhile, behave until we get back.” He threw a look around until he finally turned and disappeared, Alfred in tow. Cassandra also chose to join them.

Shortly after were previously interrupted conversations resumed until the babble of voices surpassed anyone's senses.

You decided that now was the best time to go through with your plan.

“Jason,” you said, slightly tugging at his jacket to get his attention.

“Hm?” “Can we talk for a second?” You asked him. “We are talking.” “You know what I mean.”

He raised his eyebrows in confusion, but gave in. A hand resting on your upper back, he guided you through the crowd until you found a small corner where no one was standing. Carefully, you put your glass down and Jason did the same. Then he raised his arms in defense.

“Look, whatever I did, I deeply apologize for it, but first of all, I didn’t suggest to cook Damian’s turkey, that was Tim.”

Now it was on you to be confused. “Jason, this is not this kind of talk.”

He visibly relaxed. “Oh.” He pursed his lips and chuckled awkwardly. “For a second there you had me worried.”

You smiled softly at him. “No, I just- I wanted to give you your present. You know, in private, so it’s more… private.”

Your heart was almost jumping out of your chest at this point. You were blabbering and stuttering before him as if you hadn’t gone through this monologue at least three times alone at home.

So get it together.

You took a deep breath and pulled out a small, wrapped present, handing it to Jason.

“Merry Christmas, Jay.”

He glanced first at the package in his hands, then at you, before slowly pulling the wrapping paper off and revealing an oblong black box.

You watched him as he pulled off the lid and took out what was laying on a red fabric pillow.

It was a quill, polished black with subtle gold decorations twining around the handle.

Jason wide-eyed the object in his grasp.

“I know you like to write,” you said. “I mean, you don’t have much time to do it, of course, but I know you like it. So, I thought you would like this. I know it’s not much and it’s actually pretty small now that I think about it-”

“I love it.” He interrupted you and looked into your eyes. “Thank you.” Jason quickly put the quill aside and swiftly pulled you into a warm hug.

You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and breathed in his scent of old cedar wood and whiskey and gunpowder.

“You’re welcome,” you murmured when you pulled apart. Jason’s armes remained wrapped around your waist and he was still remarkably close to you.

You could’ve counted the small freckles littered across his face. Just like before, his eyes went up and down your body. You felt your cheeks grow hot.

“Did I tell you that you look absolutely beautiful tonight?” He asked in a low voice.

You but your lip and nodded. “Yes you did,” you whispered.

His eyes were staring deeply into yours and for a moment, you felt you forgot what breathing was like.

Suddenly, the two of you heard a rustle above you and Jason looked up, coming face to face with something green.

He pointed above him. “Mistletoe.”

“But we’re not under any- “Jason cut you off by pulling you towards him and clashing your lips together with his. You let out a surprised noise but quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back.

And it felt good. You felt excitement in your stomach, spreading through your entire body at the feeling of Jason’s warm, soft lips moving slowly against your own.

When you pulled apart, Jason leaned his forehead carefully against yours.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” you whispered back, biting back a smile.

From above you, you heard slow clapping. Holding the mistletoe, sitting on Dick’s shoulders was Tim, with a grin on his face.

“They did it, people!” Dick yelled. “Only took them a reason to make out.” He leaned a bit closer to Jason. “You know we have like three guest rooms, so this is now an official invitation to- ow!”

Jason shoved him away and he tumbled back, making Tim almost crash into the Christmas decoration hanging from a chandelier.

“Just gonna have to hang a mistletoe over a bed, too.”

When the man in your arms turned back at you, you were still smiling at him from ear to ear.

“I apologize for this,” he said. “You know how they can be-”

This time, he was cut off by you kissing him and was more than happy to oblige. You felt his shoulders relax as his lips moved against yours slowly.

He bit at your lower lip and slid his tongue into your mouth. You pulled him closer by his neck and tangled your hands into his hair, softly pulling at the black strands-

“Excuse me!” The distinct voice of Duke Thomas interrupted your kiss. “There are children present.” As if to make a point, he took his hand off the eyes of a scolding Damian who was sitting on the floor.

“Animals,” he whispered. Duke nodded.

“So are you guys like together now?” Steph asked and collected a punch to the arm from Duke.

“Ow! What? It’s the question we all want to know!”

“Look at them!” Duke’s eyes were wide as he gestured in your direction. “They just made out under a mistletoe in the middle of our living room, the poor guys don’t even know their own names, how can they know if they are in an established. Relationship?”

Jason pulled his eyes away from his siblings and locked them on you. “I don’t know. Are we together now?” He asked. You smiled.

“Yes I think we are.”

“Like, with hand holding and going on dates and all?” Damian didn’t seem all too excited.

“Are we together with hand holding and going on dates and all?”

Jason grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “I’d love that.”

“I’d love that, too.”

Squeezing into the room and coming to a halt in front of you, Dick clasped his hands together and wiped a fake tear. “Oh, young love.”

You two ignored him and Jason pulled you swiftly into his warm side. “Best Christmas present ever,” he mumbled into your hair.

“Wait until you get to unwrap it,” you murmured to him.

“Children, people!” Duke screeched, “Children!”

[laladellakang]

hi.

i’m finally back and i owe you all an explanation. tw a lot of text so the summarised ver. is; i still have writer’s block but i’m feeling more inspired so hopefully content since it is birthday and anniversary month, and i’m revamping this account/editing my fics

so thankfully, i’m not dead, but my account(s) definitely has/have been. the last thing i posted was the beginning of december and the last fic i posted was november

as you all know, i’ve been having constant writer’s block these past few months, and i did some reflecting on my ‘break’ and realised that it’s just a massive accumulation of a lot of things

firstly, it took me so long to just reply to asks because (and i feel like i always say this) i feel horrible if all i do in this acc is yap around and not actually post a fic, because this is why you’re all here for. now i realise that… well maybe if you’re only in it for the fic you wouldn’t follow me and just stalk my page. I DIGRESS, but i just don’t think it’s fair if i come back with no fic, and the problem is; my writer’s block is still going strong.

why and how did this happened has been eating me up terribly and NOW i know why

1. online class is over, so with in person classes and going to uni + my job + maintaining irl relationships, i realised that my brain isn’t entirely focused on just classes and this fic anymore. but i really want it to be because this fic used to be is an escape for me

2. my fucking thesis OH MY GOD. i had so many written assignments + a thesis that writing was suddenly a chore and i wanted to avoid ANYTHING writing

3. my laptop broke :/ thankfully i have a new one now

4. ANXIETY FUCKING SUCKS. as a perfectionist, i feel like my style of writing is so shitty. and i keep trying to fix it but i just don’t know how. i keep rewriting the same thing over and over again just because i think it doesn’t look right

(and also a bonus; i found out a family member of mine is in enhaficblr and i kinda felt sick knowing they might read my stuff)

SO i have ultimately decided to edit and rewrite my fics and keep them within the same link and post BUT keep the archives on wattpad just in case you like them better <3 bc i know the pain of going through fics you liked OR WORSE, COMFORT FICS and finding the links or the work gone

and i’m also going to STOP FUCKING WHINING and try my hardest to write more. i feel like those tiktok comments that go “chop chop movie boy, you chose this life.” i have recently entered the jujutsu kaisen fandom (even though i’m not much of an anime person) and have been really inspired so i hope it can push me through this shitty ass slump i’m in

i love you guys a lot. i see your asks and your comments and they always make me push through (and oftentimes giggle). i’m really really really sorry for the constant wait and i appreciate you so so much. i’ll reply to asks soon 🤍

(pls still love me too 🥺)

[mylittleredgirl]

20 questions for fic writers

thanks @annerbhp for the tag! i really enjoyed reading her answers too!

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

215

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

646,705 (average of 3k per fic, which sounds about right)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

stargate atlantis most often, followed by sg-1, various star treks, and the x-files (with other miscellaneous fandoms on demand for exchanges and gifts).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

No Sooner Met (voyager, janeway/chakotay)

Career Day (sg-1, mini!otp)

Next Chapter (the good place, chidi/eleanor)

First Date (voyager, janeway/chakotay) editor's note: man my title game was weak in my voyager era

Occupational Hazards (the good place, chidi/eleanor)

it's so funny to spend my online time in small or inactive fandoms and look at statistics because i'm like yeah... i'm kind of a big deal... people know me... i have many leather-bound volumes... and not a single one of my fics crack 300 kudos (& very few over 100). the person i reblogged from topped out over 9,000! what's it like to write long fics for popular fandoms? is it cool?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i do now! and it's awesome! for a long time i was intimidated by praise and had a hard time responding, but my brain works now and i really enjoy exchanging comments that turn into long threads of headcanon back-and-forth and sometimes new friends.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh god PLEASE let me unburden my soul about Twilight (sga, john/elizabeth). it's so uncharacteristically hopeless for me -- far future fic, complicated family dynamics, elizabeth has dementia and john is estranged from their son... really no one is having a good time. i think it's interesting and a cool departure from my usual writing style, but it's also a big sad mess.

i still feel sooooo guilty about these two thousand words of misery that i REGULARLY think about writing a sequel where john and his son fix it with time travel and mend fences. like i lie awake at night worrying about these characters because one time in 2007 i didn't give them a happy ending and suggested john might not break the bad father generational cycle. normal fic writer behavior.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Weaving Loose Ends (sg-1, sam/jack)! i love happy and hopeful endings but i think of all of them, this one is the most resolved and least complicated.

8. Do you get hate on fic?

nope. oh!!!! there was the one time when i caused Big Drama in a corner of the Dancing With The Stars fandom by turning people's headcanons into rpf, which everyone liked until one included porn. people got so heated with each other over this one smut fic (doxing! splinter factions! a fandom schism!) but somehow no one was ever actually mean to me. i didn't even get blocked or banned for my rpf transgressions, i was just standing there at the eye of the storm. so... i guess the answer is still no??

9. Do you write smut?

yes! i should probably write more, though. it has been all slow and gauzy the past few years, somebody should really get railed pretty soon.

10. Do you write crossovers?

nope.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i don't think so. happily toiling in obscurity.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

back in the x-files days i think someone translated some of my doggett/reyes fics for a spanish archive, so those might still be out there.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no i haven't!! i am really not doing well collecting my fic writer girl scout badges here!!

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

john sheppard/elizabeth weir my beloved.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

i have 10k of an sg-1 episode-by-episode soulmate fic that started really strong and i would love to share someday, but i lack staying power so it will surely just go to seed in my dropbox forever!!

16. What are your writing strengths?

hopefully character complexity and dialogue. dialogue is interesting in fanfic, because the dialogue on many TV shows is really different than how real humans speak (it's scripted to be clearer, more concise and direct, uninterrupted, etc), so it's a fun challenge to balance that and get something that sounds both in-character and realistic.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

long fics!

the big related weakness is that i find it incredibly difficult to keep writing on a fic after i show it to anyone (as a sneak peek, or because i want feedback / encouragement / brainstorming help). i lose steam on my own, but posting or inviting other people into the process is like pouring sugar in the gas tank. why is that!! how do i fix this!!!

and i don't know if this is a "writing weakness" or an "egregious personal character flaw" but i sure did finish an exchange fic this year literally forty seconds before reveals, so that's... pretty bad.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

SO SCARY aughhhh my fear of Being Wrong really nukes me here. it doesn't even have to be a real language. it's like the ghost of JRR Tolkein himself is standing over my shoulder telling me that if i don't backwards engineer an entire proto-latinate space language instead of just chucking words into google translate and calling it Ancient i'm committing unpardonable sins.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

star trek! first internet-published fics were x-files, but first limited-print-edition fics were xeroxed hand-bound voyager stories my sister and i would give as "gifts" to family friends (and then stand there staring at them while they read the first few pages and told us how clever and creative we were and promised to "read the rest later").

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

new answer! i have always answered this before with ain't no sunshine (sga, john/elizabeth) or career day (sg-1, mini!otp), but i think i really stuck the landing this year on pieces (sga, john/elizabeth). which, incidentally, is the one i finished forty seconds before reveals so i'm definitely not going to learn anything from that narrow escape.

tagging @ussjellyfish if you haven't already done this one, @coraclavia, @havocthecat, @lonesomehighways, and anyone else who made it through this long post and would like to do it!

[ad-hawkeye]

Ngl, I haven't been too interested in Lovebrush, but I really like that trope you mentioned with Alkaid. I'm a sucker for otherworldly love, and then people resisting it, is just icing on the cake for me. Maybe I'll go check it out now.

I can hear my phone storage crying in the distance. Lol

OMG FIRST OF ALL. ANON. I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THE LOVEBRUSH SPAM. my brain is yet again Not Well, i fear, and i sincerely hope my tags are helping you block out any clutter. BUT. im glad you at least found some good in my ramblings!

there are a lot of things i like about lovebrush. while it might be harder to get attached to characters due to the "each world has an au version of the love interests" bit, it has its benefits. this aspect of lbc helps prevent ooc actions, as well as preventing the writers from loading new hobbies and skills onto the love interests because they've run out of ideas. like, if they want to give a new hobby, they can just make it something that au version likes.

base personality tends to stay the same, though. like what i mentioned with alkaid. he's gentle, respectful, and has strong emotions. it's nice because in both his godheim and eden routes, he resists the spells and otherworldly influences for lust and possessiveness, but genuinely and organically falls in love with mc over the course of the plot. it's a nice chance of pace from the writers being like oh look! he's under a SPELL or he's DRUNK or Whatever - isn't this behavior HOT.

i can't speak for the future of this game, but i like it a lot as of right now. also it feels easier to be ftp. due to the fact that the cards only have like. four minute long stories (if even that), there's less of a "i NEED it" to pulling cards. there's a lot of reruns too. so while i always feel guilty when recommending a gacha, i feel less guilty when it comes to lbc which is more ftp friendly.

[victoriousscarf]

There's so many questions on this thing I can't choose lol- (if that's too much stuff at once just pick the ones you feel like answering and ignore the rest 😅)

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

9. Do you comment on stories you read?

12. how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

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

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

28. On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

29. What’s your revision or editing process like? (Plus 47. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?)

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see? (this is probably my favorite question) (I'm most curious about covet verse scenes ofc) (but yeah feel free to talk about whatever fic you feel like)

53. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

60. Have you had a writer you admire comment on your fic? What was that like?

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

7. It depends? Like sometimes a story will just be one POV--like Covet is pretty much Fili, and I'll often take Dick's POV over Jason's in a DC fic, but usually it's like whose eyes do I most want to be on in this fic/scene? I have definitely started leaning toward whole fics in one POV but I will still switch if it works for the story (for example, needing to know scenes about which one character cannot know about). I would have previously said I would switch POVs more in long fics but Mahanon sorta shot that right out of the water. I enjoy the challenge of a limited POV fic sometimes, because you really are stuck with this one dude for what's now 500k and thus as limited in knowledge as he is. But it's rarely something I think like, that much about.

9. I am once again trying to get better lol. It's all about seasons of our lives, right? I used to try and go through fics that didn't have a bunch of comments and comment on them in the smaller fandoms/ships I was in, but then I stopped reading fic for a very long time, and now that I'm more regularly reading again, it's like flexing a muscle to comment again.

But it is an effort, one I think more people need to start accepting again. Writing is really hard work, it deserves some acknowledgement.

12. Like. I will write some wild things, and I don't need a LOT of feedback persay, but if something is getting no acknowledgement at all and another fandom is doing their best to feed me... receiving/not receiving feedback WILL impact my desire to work on a fic. It can be one or two dedicated as fuck readers who get me through a whole story, or it might be a whole swarm of them, but if I get dead silence, I have less like ability to push through the bad times (which always come in any multi chapter fic) and keep going. It hurts the motivation to get silence for sure.

16. So many. So many. As always so many.

I've got usually a whole stack of fics waiting for me to care about them/have the time which I never do. In Dragon Age I've got a pirate AU (Just, Cassandra ranting every 30 seconds about the fact they declared her a pirate but when someone offers her a pardon if she turns Mahanon in she tosses them over the side of the ship like well anyway) a whole Regency Era AU with strong vibes of Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrel, and a very strange fake dating college au that may involve Fae.

Tolkien wise I've got some fics I promised people that I never wrote, an elf time loop one (which apparently is becoming a really popular idea in the Silm fandom on tumblr haha but I've been nursing this damn one for ages), that Anastasia-ish Hobbit story, a Regency Era AU for them too (but specifically Emma) and a story I've turned around for literally years now where Thorin died before the quest so Fili becomes king in exile and pretty much laughs Gandalf out of the room when he tries to convince him to reclaim Erebor (he's got a LOT to deal with emotionally okay, he's not got time for that) so they have to go and like try and kill Smaug in the middle of the War of the Ring instead.

And those are just the ones off the top of my head.

17. I think the most important thing as a writer is give yourself some grace. I try and write every week, but like I went on a trip and then I've been too exhausted since I got back, so it's been 2 weeks now with no writing for me. And frankly, I'm still feeling really wiped out so it's more like, if you're not feeling it, it's okay to take a break. Drink some tea, read a book, let it all peculate in the back of your head for a while. Try to do some things that inspire you, like for me it's reading history, or taking walks outside or going to museums, basically just learning new things. See some friends. Spend time with people. And then come back and see if that all triggered something. We forget writers block is often a systematic issue, like we're too tired or burned out or whatever, and it's about reinvigorating your creativity. And understanding and giving yourself the time. And if you're just exhausted by life well, unfortunately, maybe it's about trying to make those bigger changes, or accepting this will be a period where you plant some clover on the field of your creativity and let it lay fallow for a season or two. It will be there when you're ready again.

20. I mean, over the years I've written some wildly different things but yes, hahaha, very much yes. My favorite conflict is duty vs desire, I'm a sucker for loyalty, I'm a sucker for little shits that just don't stop, I'm a fan of knock-down, drag out street fighters, and if you leave me alone long enough, I will manifest a revolution into basically any setting. I like characters who are competent and don't give up, but who are human and make mistakes and fuck things up and keep going anyway, despite the fuck ups and danger and road blocks in front of them. I like when people feel things very deeply, but maybe aren't very good at talking about it or dealing with it, but always know they loved first and foremost, but sometimes it wasn't enough, and sometimes they did terrible things for it. I like imbuing the every day with intense feelings, be that ships or robots or undead horses or flower crowns. And I will probably try and make you cry at some point.

22. Hm. Yes and no? I have written things that I would never have expected, and I have written a LOT of stuff over the years on what are essentially dares. And there's things I wrote before that I'm like, way less inclined to write now? Like looking back my early 20s were way more willing to play around with student/teacher relationships that now I'm like... why was I even touching that with a ten foot pole? I also really really really hate pregnancy and will probably never write that into any story with any degree of detail. I'm not saying people won't have kids, but I'm not gonna be dealing with it.

So I'll write anything, as long as I can make it work for me. But it might not be in a way that like, other people expect or like.

28. On days I write I aim for 4ish pages, single spaced, 11/12 font. On really good days I can do 8 pages. On really good days I can do 20. I do not usually aim for that though. 4 is quite manageable for me on one go. (And as you'll see in the answer below on my editing, that's usually the length my chapters are. I know some people like to complain about my chapters being ~too short~ but honestly I don't want to hear it. On a good weekend you're getting 8 pages of writing if I write both days, and while some would probably prefer me waiting until my chapters are at 8 pages instead of 4, the reality is if I wait for it to be that long I will start spiraling mentally on myself and if it's good enough, so it's actually much faster for me to post the smaller chunks than deal with that. I'm a post or die person, and isn't that better than not getting anything at all?)

29/47. ... Hm.

Yeah I don't really edit. My editing process is usually to do one read through before posting (Unless I'm feeling like a scene is not working at all, in which case I may go back and rework it while halfway through and change things to make it work. But if I have to do that more than 2 or 3 times I will delete the whole thing and start again). I will try and grab typos and make sure things are working, then I will post. Once posted I try to do another read through on a typo hunt, but sometimes I don't get to that for another day or two, depending on when I post it.

40. I mean, there are always so many images while writing that make me go this would be really fun as an art haha.

I would love the scene in chapter 7 of covet not the feel of gold or taste of blood of Kili just sorta losing it. Or Fili, poor lad, covered in gold.

I'd love Dick in his magic shop from trust not in the darkness, trust in my outstretched hand, or the cabin covered in candles and the snow. I tried to work on my settings a bit more in that one.

I love any time someone draws Dick and Jason and the bike from find the sun in the corners of shadows.

I would love to see Mahanon and Sonja in art together. That would probably make me cry.

But honestly I would not really care. Like any fanart is a gift that makes me so emotional any time it happens. I understand why commissions etc exist, but I feel like the idea of sharing gifts in fandom used to be stronger than it is now. And that does make me a little sad. But it still happens and every time is worth treasuring.

53. I'm more of a writer, but lately I've been reading a lot of fics again. (Stranger Things got to me). But I also read a bunch of non fanfiction things, so I go through seasons of reading fic or not. But I almost always am writing, so I'd say majority writer, but when I read I do lose it.

55. I mean, the classics at this point are Fili and Dick and Mahanon probably. I am a sucker for someone who has every reason to hate the world and chooses instead love, belief, compassion, or in Fili's case, simple fucking survival haha. And no, I don't really care about people's reactions to certain characters. If I did I would have less plans for Gaspard in the forest is dark and deep. (Every time he shows people yell at me about how much they hate him and I'm like oh well, you're going to have to keep dealing with him anyway <3)

Honestly I only seem to chose popular characters by chance, and sometimes don't really care about the fandom reading on them (Fanon Dick Grayson my beloathed). I don't mean this in a "I'm not like other girls" way, I just know I'm contrary at best, and don't really care for the whims of popular fandom. I do what I want, and I have gotten yelled at for it by readers, and not in a good squee-yelling sort of way.

Unless you mean, swayed by readers/follower's opinions in a "I will never write this again as long as I live" way in which case yes, I did actually drop a whole ship because the readers were so mean about it and it killed all joy I ever felt in those characters together. And it was Tony Stark/Loki back in the 2012 era. That was the worst experience in fandom I ever had, you will always be legendary to me for all the wrong reasons.

60. Yes! Actually I commented on their work and they went wait, aren't you the one who wrote xxx? And I was like oh, yes, that is me, and we went from there. And then we became fandom friends lol. It is always a very kind, warm feeling to realize people have read your stuff, especially when you know they've got good tastes in their own work lol.

65. Listen, listen, I'm so excited for where ancient sea is going, the fact my brain is refusing to write it is driving me crazy. I want Hawke to meet Bianca! For the temple of Dirth to be a total shit show!!! the Forbidden Oasis being EVEN WORSE! I want my boi Abelas to show, I want things in Orlais to get batshit insane while Mahanon goes "whoops" I am dying for the assassins from Josie's personal mission to show up while Mahanon is on a hair trigger on that issue (especially! Josie! After! Wycome! holy shit). I want Gaspard to show up and be really annoying for like many different things while Mahanon keeps wishing he killed him while he had the chance (real "I should have left you on that streetcorner where I found you" "But you didn't!" vibes). I want for them to try and start breaking Mahanon and his symbols down and for him and his to rebuilt something new from the ashes.

On the other hand I also want to keep trucking in Covet because I'm really excited about some of the stuff there too, and getting to the point where I can start posting some of the side story stuff I've been writing to keep myself sane in the main story lol. (I've got like a whole 13 pages of Nori POV that came out of a fucking joke to someone that I can't post yet and now I'm mad about it lol).

[dontwarnthetadpoles]

Buffy Rewatch: season 4

I'm not doing this rewatch in order, so i have a lot of thoughts who pop up and often contradict themselves. But i know that i'm not going to write real, full reviews, so it's better than nothing to share them under the form of "shorts" (as much short as i can do, which is not really short) comments.

I really wonder what made Whedon believe that the best way for Buffy to get over Angel, was to create a character (Riley) who was the opposite of Angel in every way, an anti Angel.

Whedon said indeed:

"The important thing for us was to find a character that was the anti-Angel and to have Buffy go through something very different, part of which was the question, 'How do I get over Angel?' That was the same thing the audience was going through. We knew it wasn't going to be easy and it was very hard trying to find somebody. But Marc [Blucas] has a quality that I love very much: he has sort of an un-David-like, firm, strong, trustworthy quality. I always think of him as Gary Cooper."

Source

I mean it seems obvious that to define someone as anti someone else means the influence and hold of the character that is seen negatively is more powerful than ever. An anti Angel means that Angel's shadow never left the show, that he is still haunting Buffy in every way, except she keeps the obsession that he represents at distance with a more positive boyfriend, who she uses like a talisman to keep her thoughts about him from becoming too intrusive.

Why couldn't Riley be himself, a regular and normal guy in appearance but with a double life of demon hunter that matches Buffy's mission, someone that Buffy would have realized she wanted in her life just by living, fighting at his side and learning to love him daily instead of being a reversed image of her ex?

In the anti Angel scenario, even if her relationship with Riley had worked, she still would have been trapped with an improved version of Angel, different but still too close. On the show, the writers didn't make as opposite as Whedon claimed to want them. Actually both men shared many common opinions and personality traits:

a sexist worldview,

the need of being needed as Angel's savior complex proved it on Ats especially with damsels in distress,

insecurities about virility developed during the crossover episode in Ats "I will remember you" where Angel gave up a possible human life at Buffy's side because he couldn't handle to be less strong than her to not be in capacity to protect her).

I don't see how creating with Riley an idealized version of Angel (one who can take her on a picnic, see her in the daylight, who would accept his strength inferiority because he can't do anything about it, one who can have as much sex as Buffy wants, who can marry and have children), someone that Angel could never be because of his personality souled or souless, would fix Buffy's problem of dependency and later of emotional distance/self centeredness?

It feels like the writers were rather presenting us of what Buffy would think to be her ideal man based on her unique romantic relationship with Angel. A Frankenstein version of the Prince Charming not in the sense that Riley is a monster, he's a good man, a brillant man and a hot man, but because he's also in some way closer to what would look like a puppet stitched based on Buffy's preferences and to who life would be given.

The problem is not only Riley's personality, but also the execution of their romance mostly the timing of it.

I think that the writers got it right when they made Buffy hook up, before making Riley her official boyfriend, with guys who are all about sex (Parker) or are bad boys at heart (Spike). In real life, any young/teen girl would have repeated the same mistake few times with other boys similar in looks or darkness/personality to the one she loved deeply and who hurt her, before growing enough to learn from the past. The solution to make her involved with Spike was more credible than to push her in Riley's arms immediately, especially when they had nothing in common in term of interests.

But the timing is all wrong: there is less than 7 episodes between her one night stand with Parker in The Harsh light of Day (4.03) and her picnic and first official date with Riley in Something Blue (4.09). The picnic happened in the same episode as 'the thing" with Spike (i don't know how to call it), and just after an entire episode on Ats where she spent a lot of time in bed with Angel. She almost ruined her relationship with Riley because of Spike (Something Blue), so by the time they had their first kiss, i didn't scream "finally the good guy she deserves" but rather " it's too much romance and disappointment in one season, and he will never make up for it because the show is already creating conflict over his identity."

Conflicts kept piling up indeed during the second half of the season: from the revelation of their secret identities to Buffy's refusal to give a chance to Riley, from her change of mind and full involvement in his life to the point she joined The Initiative for him to the shock of Maggie Walsh's attempt to kill her and Walsh's murder by Adam, from Riley's change in personality due to the effects of The Initiative's medicine on him to Faith's intrusion in their lives etc...

That's a lot to deal with in such a short period, especially when we consider too the fact that despite all those ordeals that they faced together as a couple, Riley never got passed this image that he was less than her ex vampire boyfriends. Diminished by his lesser fighting skills, the lesser danger he represented, his less cool attitude: Buffy called him a doof, Forrest said he's a mama's boy, Willow for his defense argued that "he didn't seem like he could tell a little white lie, let alone a whole bunch of big dirty ones"; though his cool potential changed depending on what the script needed him to be, and based too on his double identity.

Coming after such radical personalities (Angel and Spike) with extreme views and violent actions explain why so many fans see him as bland and boring (which he is not): they can't shake the feeling of being overwhelmed by Angel and Spike, not matter how wrong their values, their feelings, their actions were.

I read a lot that Riley was supposed to be her endgame but i don't see how it would have worked if it was planned to introduce Dawn and kill Joyce since season 2, as the rumor says. That meant Whedon knew very early that Buffy was going to die during season 5. After all that she went through to find the right guy, was Whedon going to pretend that she was leaving behind the love of her life in a grand gesture of sacrifice to save the world? Even though it looked and felt liker rather a suicide, in a season where the accumulation of misery was leading to her death anyway? What would have been the point of getting over Angel if she was not going to survive?

For me who perceives the show mostly from the angle of trauma, to get her past her relationship with Angel was in all cases a necessity because he literally stole her life: he made a mess of it, of her vision of love and she needed to heal.

But it would have required to not treat Riley as someone who was always going to suffer from the comparison, and also to make clear at one point that she chose him over Angel (during one of the crossovers with Ats preferably), and that her decision was definitive in her mind.

Riley really didn't need to be the anti Angel, and the writers shouldn't have taken the risk to fail at delivering this tale of happiness for Buffy (if they really wanted her to be happy) by trying to force on him this fake personality.

No more than they should have let Buffy trapped in the mindset "that real love and passion have to go hand in hand with lots of pain and fighting". that it's "where the fire comes from", questioning the possibility that "a nice safe relationship can be that intense".

Buffy and Riley didn't have nice and safe lives so their relationship couldn't be nice and safe and yet she still had doubts even after she started to date him.

A vision of love on which she was still clinging so strongly that she even blamed Angel for calling her his ex (during the crossover with Ats when Angel came back to Sunnydale after helping Faith, allegedly to apologize), which sent her back right to the regret that she couldn't be with him and which confirmed indirectly that Riley was a default choice.

Which begs the question: what kind of reactions did the writers expect from the fans when they didn't seem to even bother to establish Buffy and Riley's romance as a more desirable relationship for Buffy?

[miraculousares]

It's been a while since I've analyzed a Miraculous episode but Psycomedian was so good that I had to share

1. Starting off strong with the writers feeding their queer audience this scene.

There's something so casual about the way they talk and how tender they are with each other that just makes me so happy. While I, of course, wish that the writers could make it explicitly stated that they're girlfriends, I appreciate how clear they make it through things like this so that they can still please their queer audience without getting censored.

2. Adrien watching Marientte instead of the comedian Nino's trying to show him is the cutest thing in the world oh my god.

Tell me those aren't heart eyes, I'll wait.

3. I absolutely adore Harry. In my personal opinion, he's one of the most likeable sid characters that Miraculous has had in a really long time. I might make a separate appreciation post just for him but I can't talk about this episode without mentioning this absolute gem of a man.

4. Carrying on my love of Harry, I love the weird uncle energy he has with Marinette. I have to admit, I'm a sucker for that dynamic, especially within this show. First we had it with Jagged Stone and now now Harry Clown and I'm never disappointed. He's so sweet and gentle with her, even teasing her about her crush and helping her out with him. I really hope we get to see more of this relationship in the future.

5. I know we're all talking about the still-secretly-pining-for-eachother ex energy between "Gaby" and Harry but I wanna talk about it too because gjejfjejdjdnsjshfjeksfjeje

Again, I'll probably make a separate post talking about this in more detail and why there is no doubt in my mind that there is something between these two but for now, I just want to say how much I absolutely love this. Harry is so confident around Gabriel and literally not intimidated at all by him. He sees right through the emotionless front "Gaby" puts up. Also, I know that nobody, not even Adrien, could get away with being so casual with him, let alone going as far as to call him "sweetie" and "Gaby," so the fact that Harry does is so hilarious to me.

6. Not much to say for this one but of fucking course Gabriel designed the French fry costume.

8. Again, not much to say about this but I cannot get over this part. Chat looks like he is having the time of his life painting that helmet. He's straight up vibing. Also I think it's so funny because there is absolutely 0 reason he needed to paint it like a lucky charm. I can understand painting the visor to block Psycomedian's power, but he did not need to paint the full helmet, especially with how much detail he put into it. I choose to believe that he was just enjoying himself and knew that Feralbug was doing just find out there throwing hands.

9. The entirety of feralbug had me absolutely laughing my ass off, seeing her just go apeshit over the most random things. But in addition to the peak comedy of that, I also love how patient Chat was with her and how he knew how to handle her/calm her down.

10. THIS.

This line is probably the most important line I've seen in canon in terms of their relationship, platonic or otherwise. He doesn't need Marinette to put on a whole stand up comedy show to make him laugh, just her natural sense of humor is perfect for him and that's so sweet.

My final thoughts on this episode is that I think it is easily one of my favorite episodes of the entire series and especially this season. Season 4 has been absolutely incredible in dealing with a lot more serious and mature emotions and plot lines in a way that I never expected from Miraculous and it's been incredible. However, everyone needs a breather and a laugh, a chance to not have to take the show so seriously and be able to just enjoy it. I'm glad that we got that with Psycomedian. I'm so excited to see what else Miraculous has in store for us. I also have a lot more that I wanted to talk l about with this episode that I'll make separate posts for either because I wanted to go more in depth about a topic or because I wanted to keep this post more light hearted so I am by no means done talking about this episode.

[dumdumsun]

⚠️If You Read Any Of My Fanfictions, Please Keep Reading⚠️

Hey, y'all. I hope I don't sound rude at all in this post, this is just something I've been needing to say in consideration of my stories. This also serves as an update for each and every one of them. If someone doesn't see this and they ask questions that this post will answer, I'm just gonna end up sending them a link to this post because I'm a little irritated with repeating myself. This is gonna be posted to my Wattpad, Quotev and AO3 because some of this speaks right to those audiences.

Alright, so, I just wanna give you guys an update on how each of my series are going because some of these things I don't speak on enough, and some of them, I repeat too much. So, here we go.

Actually, before we start, I just want to point out that all of my stories are written before they are posted. I write my stories in full, and then I post chapters weekly. I repeat this a lot, so I just want everyone to know, even though I post publishing schedules.

Of Starlight Series - The Umbrella Academy - Five x Reader: This series is still going strong. I have been very busy lately. One week, I went to Georgia to visit family. While I was on that trip, I got COVID and was sick for the next week. I just got home last night from a trip to Chicago. I've had no time to write lately, so sorry about that. But the third installment of this series, "To Nightfall", is outlined and will be written starting tomorrow afternoon (that is 07/20/2022, if you wanna quote me on that). There's no need to worry about this series, I have everything planned and I am 100% dead-set on continuing this story.

Forever and Never Duology - I Am Not Okay With This - Stanley Barber x Reader: I know. I know I said there would be a sequel. I know. I started it (there's actually 3 1/2 chapters written), but the story is garbage and it makes no sense and I needed to re-outline the entire thing again. Haven't done that yet because I don't know what to do anymore. I'm not even sure if the sequel will happen. That doesn't sound or feel right to say or type out, but it's how I've been feeling for a year. That might change eventually, though. As a reader, I wouldn't get my hopes up on the continuation of this series.

The Loveliest Lies of All Series - Over The Garden Wall - Reader Insert: This series is a one and done. There is no sequel and I never planned on it. I like the idea of it being a singular story just like the show and I have no intention or desire to continue it. It's amazing how it is.

Ranidaphobia Duology - IT - Reader Insert: I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. This is another fic that has been promised for a year now. However, with this one, I have every intention on continuing it. The problem is, for MONTHS, I have been on chapter 5 of 13. It's such a struggle to sit down and write for this story in particular. I know I don't have writer's block, so maybe it's just this story. I really do not wanna discontinue it because I wanna write it SO BAD and I've been promising it to you guys for so long. It will get done, I can promise you that. I can't promise you when.

Lost and Found Series - Stranger Things - Reader Insert: This fic is literally the biggest reason I'm making this post. I've got some things to say. Now, Tumblr users, I'm not really talking about you guys, mainly my other audiences. For one, this series is going on strong. As of right now, the sequel, "Break and Mend", is written in full and being released weekly. The third installment, "Wax and Wane", will not be written for awhile. I have other things I wanna do. On another note, I am getting VERY sick and tired of seeing things about Doc and Will. I am aware that Will's sexuality is being explored by the show. I don't know if he's gay (I'm pretty sure he is) because promotion kinda queerbaited us throughout June and that was pretty shitty. But cast members have been saying the same things about Will being gay. If the show continues as it is with his sexuality, then Doc and Will are not endgame. That's obvious. If it turns out everyone is a liar and Will is straight, then I'll keep them together. But as of right now, I have a plan to break them up. I have a story to tell and I will not pivot away from what I'm doing, especially when I can make this work without disrespecting Will Byers. Doc's feelings for him will never change, that's just the truth. But their relationship status is what I have the responsibility to change. And I will do so when I tell the story. Let me tell my story and please stop commenting about how I'm being homophobic. I know there are writers out there completely ignoring Will's sexuality. I'm not doing that, I promise. Just be patient and enjoy the story, please. Like I said, Tumblr users haven't said anything, this is for my other audiences. It just needed to be said.

Wild World Miniseries - Stranger Things - Eddie Munson x Reader: Oh my god, this will get done. Part 3 and maybe Part 4 will get done eventually. I'm mainly focusing on my main stories right now. The Eddie miniseries really started out as a thank you for 500 followers on Tumblr, and then y'all begged me for a Part 2 and I delivered. I'm not really worried about this miniseries right now. Just know that there will be one or two more parts before it's over.

I have other series I want to write. I was contemplating a Euphoria reader insert and even started a first chapter, but we'll see how that turns out. I definitely am planning a reader insert for The Walking Dead. The problem with that fic is just outlining. I need to plan better for that before I start writing it.

I am eternally grateful for all the love and support I receive from all my audiences from all platforms. All I'm asking is that you guys be patient and kind to me. At the end of the day, I write for myself and I'm kind and confident enough to share it with you all. That takes a lot to do and sometimes it feels like I'm not getting enough in return in terms of patience and kindness. Certain comments (like hateful ones I received this morning) are deleted simply because there's no reason for them to be there, but I'm not usually one to delete comments. I like to reply and interact with you guys. But sometimes, I get tired of answering the same questions and explaining myself on matters that I really don't have to.

Don't worry, I still love y'all. I love that you love my stories and again, I hope I didn't sound rude in this post at all. I just needed to get some things off my chest.

Thank you guys for reading this and I will see my Lost and Found readers in Break and Mend, Chapter Two: Moving Forward. You guys have an awesome week. Much love ❤️❤️

[katnissmellarkkk]

peeta getting upset at katniss for wanting to hunt when they know it’s freezing & about to rain, but she goes anyway bc she’s katniss and stubborn. She comes back soaked and freezing, but peeta doesn’t do the whole “i told you so” thing and just takes good care of her 🥺

Hi, anon bestie!!!! I have been thinking of this prompt for so long, I’m so sorry it took so long to fulfill. I admit, not only have I been having writer’s block but also I haven’t really felt like a good writer lately. Buttttttt I got this done and written and I hope you like it!!!! Thank you for requesting!! And thank you to everyone who reads this, reblogs it, what have you. Thank you for all the continued support you show me, it’s really the motivation as to why I’m able to even still write when I struggle.

Anywaysss. I hope anyone who read this has a good time and God bless you all. 💙💗🤍😘

-

I sneak up the stairs as soon as the front door slips shut, my footfalls effortlessly silent as not to tip off my husband of my return quite yet.

On a typical day I’d have bounded into the kitchen and probably bombarded him, since my return home from hunting is routinely the first interaction we share in the day. More often than not, Peeta is still in deep sleep, burrowed securely beneath our warm sheets, when I leave right after sunrise to hunt in the woods.

But not today. No, today isn’t our typical morning and today I really don’t want to greet him hello.

And something tells me even if I tried, the reception would be icy. At best.

Peeta grants me the title for holding grudges after fights — and admittedly, I might do that on occasion — but he doesn’t seem to realize just how guilty he is of the same exact crime.

And I’ve never told him. I’ve never once thrown in his face that he can hold onto anger just as tightly and just as stubbornly as I can. And I probably never will, no matter how furious I get with him at times.

Because it’s a quality he inherited directly from his mother. And it’s not one he’s proud of, I already know.

In any case, greeting him hello would be absolutely pointless, because after our fight this morning — the fight that he started himself, asking me not to hunt, asking me not to walk to town and trade at the Hob today. And getting blatantly irritated when I refused — I know Peeta’s not going to be welcoming me home with open arms.

I love him. I’ve loved him openly, wholly, without doubts or fears or reservations for more than five years now. And me and him both know I loved him even before that too. But no love is going to make me waltz into the kitchen, drenched to the bone and shivering violently, and admit he might have been right earlier.

Apparently he now believes those stupid weather reports, just like Haymitch and Delly and Thom. Apparently the freakish people that actually get paid to talk about the weather claimed yesterday that this morning here in Twelve would consist of a variety of atrocities. Namely thunder and lightning and hail and strong, freezing winds, to be exactly.

A really immature, petty part of me wants to make a point in letting my husband know that there was no lightning whatsoever.

But everything else the stupid weather person claimed was absolutely true and as I enter the bathroom, I realize with an appropriate amount of horror that I cannot feel my hands or my legs.

I cup my palms over my mouth and blow hard, trying to bring some feeling back into my chilled appendages. The action proves unsuccessful though, only further fueling my body’s intense stress production.

After all, if I lose my hands from frostbite, I can’t hold my bow, I can’t shoot my arrows and I definitely cannot hunt anymore.

The thought passes through my mind in such a quick and jumbled way that I know I’m not thinking rationally — by any stretch of the imagination — but a pit digs itself in my stomach just the same. The idea of losing my ability to hunt, one of the only things that truly brings me peace on days I feel rocked and terrified, one of the only acts that I know without a doubt can help me and my loved ones survive even if the world were to head back to starvation and poverty again, the last connection I have to my father, causes my throat to clog up painfully.

Evidently it also causes me to completely lose touch with my surroundings because, without prior warning, I feel a large, warm hand splay across my upper back.

I flinch at the contact, realizing a beat too late that it’s my husband who’s finally found me. Standing drenched and frenzied, holed up in the bathroom.

For a split second, I expect to see anger or annoyance or even a smug smile when I raise my dime colored eyes to meet his cornflower ones. But I don’t. I don’t see anything of the sort.

Instead all I see is Peeta standing over me, attentive and warm and concerned. His touch is soft and his gaze is all gentleness. “Katniss,” he breathes quietly, one of his hands ringing out my sopping wet braid. “What’re you doing?”

Unable to form the words on my lips at first, I hold up my shaking hands just as another shiver runs down my spine. I don’t know what I’m trying to convey but his eyes flicker with comprehension and he quickly brings my palms to mouth, blowing hot air on them furiously.

“Thank you,” I whisper as he touches my coat, running the material between his fingers lightly.

“This coat wasn’t made for this kind of weather,” he states and I don’t argue. Four months ago the time came to pack my father’s hunting jacket away with mementoes I still hold onto of Prim. The jacket was becoming too worn and torn and I feared the day would come when it was dwindled down to nothing but tears, loose threads and holes.

But when Peeta suggested I order a new coat from the Capitol, where they sold and shipped fancy and expensive winter outerwear, lined with fur and fluff, I resisted. I even rejected the idea of digging out a jacket Cinna made me long ago, having come to a point where all I want is to savor the things the ones I lost left behind and not use and abuse them.

But it’s quite clear now that the crocheted coat I made myself didn’t hold up to the wind and storm the same way the heat-insulated Capitol fabric would have. It’s blatantly obvious that Peeta was right and I was wrong, and if this were reversed I can’t say I wouldn’t be petty enough to say “I told you so”.

But Peeta doesn’t push the issue anymore and for that I’m glad. My teeth chatter and I feel the tip of my nose stinging and all I want to do is crawl into bed and lay there until I can feel all my limbs again but it would appear Peeta has other plans for me.

He pulls my coat all the way off, laying it aside on the bathroom counter and tugs me closer to him, his hands already at my shirt’s hem. “Raise your arms, honey,” he commands in a soft voice. I do as he asks and he pulls my drenched shirt off, tossing it with my waterlogged coat. He then gently brings me into the circle of his arms, rubbing my back, a clear attempt to warm up my bare skin. One that is met with little success.

“Do you want to take a shower?” He whispers, expertly undoing my braid as he speaks.

I nod, my entire face still numb from the biting temperature outside. I let him guide me over to the bathtub, watching as he adjusts the knobs and proceeds to rid me of the rest of my frigid clothes.

I don’t speak again until he’s helping me under the cascade of water, still fully dressed himself, standing on the bath mat outside the shower. “Join me,” I murmur, an almost plead as the hot water spills down my back, effectively warming the skin on my back and legs, ridding it of all goose flesh.

Peeta gives me a sardonic glance. “I already planned on it.” And within a minute, he’s completely discarded his clothes into a pile right on top of mine.

As soon as he’s inside the shower, as soon as he pulls the curtain closed, I immediately wrap my arms around his waist, burrowing my face into his chest. My cheek rests against his heart, where I can hear the beat perfectly, where I always rest my head.

I may have been holding onto my irritation when I first arrived home, but if Peeta has decided to let it go, then — for once — I will too. My anger was more defensiveness anyway.

Peeta doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t mention the fight or even mention the fact that I’m still shivering, but twines his strong arms around me instead and plants a gentle kiss on the top of my head.

And suddenly I can’t move on without mentioning it. “I’m sorry I didn’t just stay home today,” I say hesitantly, trying to very carefully break the ice. “You were right. Even if you were listening to those Capitol weathermen.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as his arms tighten protectively around me. He moves us closer to the waterfall, running a hand through my hair, ensuring it is saturated in warmth. “I just worry sometimes,” he admits after a beat. “About your lack of spleen.”

I lean my head back from his embrace to peer up at him and give a quizzical look. “My lack of spleen?”

His hand cups my cheek as the shower water pours over both our faces, spilling down into the space between us, getting trapped between our chests. The hot water feels good, so much better than I even anticipated when he asked, but I don’t comment on it now. Instead I wait for him to elaborate. “You have a weaker immune system. You know.” He waits for my face to light up with recognition but instead all he gets is a blank, impatient stare. “You know. Because the doctors took your spleen out when you got shot in Two? Your immune system is now weaker, so I worry about you sometimes,” he admits. “The same thing that gives me a cold could give you pneumonia. Or worse.” He waits for me to reply, to say almost anything but I take a moment to catch up.

I blink three times consecutively before finally answering. “I knew that,” I say but there’s an almost comical defensive edge to my tone now. “I knew that, Peeta.”

And of course, my husband clocks it immediately. “No, you didn’t,” he asserts and his voice suddenly recedes in age about ten years. As does his childish smirk.

“Yes, I did. I just forgot,” I insist, but we both know by this point I’m an awful liar. Unless my life depends on it, I can’t act at all.

And sometimes even then I still fall short.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he retorts, still with the same cocky smile playing on his lips and I make a face at him before bursting out laughing. “I love you, Katniss,” he softly proclaims with that glint in his eye that I know well. The one that tells me, wordlessly, that he adores me. That even on days when I feel like scum of the Earth, he openly reveres and cherishes me for just being who I am.

And then he surprises me by adding one last thing on the end of his statement. “I’m sorry for being bossy earlier. For trying to tell you what not to do.”

I nod, as if I’m extremely serious about my next words. “Yeah, it’s better if you leave the being bossy to me.” I’m rewarded with a smile and a kiss to the forehead but suddenly I want more.

And apparently so does he. I tip my head back to indicate I want a real kiss at the same time Peeta is leaning in to plant one. Before I can even make the request he’s pressing his lips to mine in a slow, tender motion, his arms still supporting my body as steam filters throughout the room.

I cradle his face in my hands, deepening the kiss, silently willing him not to break the connection just yet. He holds out until he has to pull away for air and then, without warning, lifts me straight up into his arms, pressing my back into the shower wall.

“Peeta,” I murmur huskily as his mouth moves down my throat, suckling on my weakest spot where my neck meets my shoulder.

“Yeah?” He mumbles absently as his hands roam up and down my body, causing my head to spin and another shiver to run down my back for an entirely different reason.

“I love you too,” I say, my hands both tangled up in his now wet hair. “I love you so much.”

-

[h0neypjm]

Just for practice | kth

↳ Summary: “I think we should normalise giving head to your friends as practice.”

↳ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, slight Hoseok x reader

↳ Genre: Smut, pwp, some plot i guess, best friend! Taehyung

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 5.3k

↳ Warnings: swearing, lip biting, hickies, oral (both female and male receiving), rough blowjobs, spanking, fingering, squirting, big dick! Tae, possessiveness/jealousy, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls), dom/sub themes, Taehyung calls reader lots of pet names (sweetheart, darling, good girl), degradation, biting, slight cockwarming

↳ a/n: I’ve been having major writer’s block while writing confident :( however, i saw this tweet which prompted this lil oneshot hope you enjoy

Jung Hoseok [ 2:15 PM ]

Am I gonna see you at Seokjin’s tomorrow?

You [ 2:16 PM ]

I’ll be there :)

Jung Hoseok [ 2:18 PM ]

You’re not gonna run away from me this time, right?

You [ 2:20 PM ]

No of course not haha

Jung Hoseok [ 2:21 PM ]

Is that a promise princess?

A sigh flies out of your mouth like wind through a window and you’re shucking off your glasses in an instant. Hoseok’s texts bringing back a flurry of memories that you wish to forget.

“Do you need help with your essay again?”

Your eyes are strained when they try to focus on Taehyung, your shoulders shrug in defeat. “No, I’m fine. It’s just-”

Taehyung knows immediately, he is your best friend after all. “Let me guess, It’s Hoseok isn’t it?” 

You slump in your seat while a pout is cutely drawn onto your face, you nod with dismay. “I really like him Tae, and every time we see each other, It’s like the universe has it out for me and tries to make sure I embarrass myself in front of him.”

Taehyung shuts his laptop because he knows there's no use in trying to write an essay while you speak about your utterly tragic love life. He thinks about your situation for a minute before he speaks.

“Yes, you might’ve spilled your beer on him and accidentally punched him in the eye, more than once. But, if he’s still texting you he’s obviously still into you. It’s a good sign sweetheart.” Taehyung pats your hand across the coffee table, a comforting smile adorning his handsome face.

Taehyung doesn’t know the full extent of your problem and the more you think about it the more embarrassing it becomes. So you smile back at him uttering a small thank you before turning back to your laptop.

Taehyung raises a brow, “wait, wait, hang on, something is still bothering you.” 

You frown, “it’s embarrassing.”

Taehyung shuffles around the corner of the coffee table as if you’re about to tell him a secret, though it’s just the two of you in his small apartment. “Just tell me, it can’t be that bad.”

“Taehyung it is that bad.” You tilt your head at him, pulling up the sleeves of your sweater around your tiny fists. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

Taehyung feigns shock at your words, his hands placed on his heart for dramatic effect. “I would never laugh, and frankly I’m offended you think that low of me.” 

You roll your eyes, turning your body more towards him, deciding it wouldn't hurt letting Taehyung know the thoughts plaguing your mind. “Well, you know how Hoseok and I have been kind of flirty lately, right?” He nods in understanding. 

“I can tell he wants more than that, you know? His touches are small but I know exactly what he’s suggesting, and don’t get me wrong, the feeling is completely mutual because trust me I want that too. Really bad.” 

Taehyung hums, interrupting your soon-to-be graphic rambling. “I totally get it Y/N. Now let’s stop beating around the bush so I can help you.”

If Taehyung were a girl, this would be so much easier. You curse your eight-year-old self who just had to become friends with a boy because God, how do you even start?

Taehyung is a patient man, always giving you space before helping you but, in this situation, you feel it’s best to just rip the band-aid off. Taehyung if you can read my mind, please don’t laugh at me.

“I’venevergivensomeoneablowjob.”

You speak so suddenly, Taehyung’s not so sure he heard you correctly. “Huh?”

“Goddammit Tae”, you rub and your temples and avoid his stare. “I’ve never given someone a blowjob!”

His eyes are wide. “Oh” 

You hide your face into the table while your body internally cringes. At least he didn’t laugh. “See! You do think it’s bad.”

“I’m just surprised to be honest”, he reassures, leaning back onto his palms, strong brows pulled together in thought. “Shit Y/N, have you really never sucked a dick before?”

Sure, you’ve had sex many times (most of which have been extremely disappointing) but, it seems that most of your hookups want to get straight into fucking. No foreplay, no nothing. Just unseasoned, pleasureless fucking.

A groan rumbles out of your throat, “It just never happened! They were all about that hump and dump lifestyle I guess.”

Taehyung is utterly baffled at your statement. In Taehyung’s books, It is compulsory to treat every women like a queen. Preparing and edging them the perfect amount of times to see them crumble so sensually by his very doing. To Taehyung, seeing a woman cry out his name from experiencing the most explosive, leg-shaking orgasm was always his favourite part.

This is why Taehyung is absolutely shattered for you. “So, you’re also telling me no one has ever eaten you out?” You miserably nod, “that’s actually fucking evil!”

His words do not ease you one bit as you throw your head onto the seat behind you. “The way you say it makes me feel even worse. This is the sole reason why I run away from Hoseok and make a fool out of myself.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, the air floating around carrying an awkward silence. You don’t really care and you don’t expect Taehyung to think of a solution. Plus, you’re already embarrassed enough.

You might as well leave and ask one of your girlfriends for help, maybe finish your essay while you’re at it. You sigh, shutting your laptop and stacking your books together. 

However, the next sentence that flies out of Taehyung’s mouth makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“I think I’ve figured out how I can help you.”

Wiggling back into a comfortable seating position, you lean into Taehyung with interest. “And how might you help me, dear Taehyung?”

He eyes you nervously, his fingers fiddling with his chunky rings, “You trust me, right?”

You smile, “yeah, of course, you’re my best friend Tae.”

An exhale puffs out of his mouth. “Why not practice on me?”

You almost choke on your spit. You definitely did not expect him to say that. “Could you repeat that please?”

A new glint of mischief sparkles in his eye. “Why not let me teach you how to give Hoseok the blowjob of his life and in return, I’ll eat you out”

Your brain is having a meltdown. 

“You’re fucking crazy”, you wail. “You actually want me to suck your dick?”

He brings his hands up in defence, “I think we should normalize giving head to your friends as practice, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. Think about it, you get to learn and cum at the same time.”

You won’t lie to yourself, the proposal is tempting and in all honesty, Taehyung is hot as fuck. You will forever thank the Gods above for blessing you with the delicious sight that is your best friend. However, the proposition puts you in an odd spot.

Apprehensive about your thoughts, you state your unease, “I-I don’t know Taehyung, don’t you think this might ruin our friendship?” An exhale, “have you seriously thought of me that way?”

Taehyung chuckles, it’s deep and totally unexpected to your question. “Sweetheart, there are many things that go on inside my head involving you. And to answer your question, they’re not completely innocent.”

A startled gasp is ripped from your throat and your stomach flutters with a dangerous mix of nervousness, thrill and dare you say arousal.

Never in your life would you have imagined Kim Taehyung, your best friend since grade school, seeing you in such an inviting way. To make matters worse, It was intimidating to think about his fair share of experience and the long line of women backing up the fact that Taehyung was indeed some sort of sex demon.

Of course, you felt the same way. How could you not! The man was practically an incarnation of a Greek God. Broad sturdy shoulders that sat atop thick muscular thighs, and how could you forget his gorgeous fingers.

You’d die before you admit it, but there have been many nights where you have found yourself thinking about what his pretty long fingers could do to you. Those nights always ended with a mess of your sheets and a wetness between your thighs. It was your dirty little secret, however, it seems Taehyung also had some of his own.

His sharp eyes storm with darkness when he speaks, “don’t lie Y/N, I know you’ve had some dirty thoughts about me up in that pretty little head of yours.”

Pink blossoms over your cheeks like wildfire because he’s so terrifyingly right. “I don’t even need to touch you sometimes, one look and you’re a goner.” You gulp. “Look at you right now.” His gaze drops down to your thighs. “All my talking making you so needy, you need to clench your thighs to keep it together.”

He smiles, though it’s not his usual boxy, boyish smile. It’s dangerous and seductive almost smirking and shit when did he get so close to you? Your breathing is erratic and you have no idea how you could be so anxious yet so amorous at the same time. 

Your heart beats rapidly in your ears. “This is just for practice, right?”

Taehyung curses under his breath, “just for practice sweetheart.”

You don’t get to respond.

His lips are hesitant at first when they meet yours, yet his hands say the opposite. They start at your waist and tickle their way down to your stiff hands. Ever so gently, he pries them open, intertwining his long fingers with yours, and God, did his hands feel so right.

Your nerves dissipate slowly but surely as you allow him to explore your mouth with his skilful tongue. 

Much to Taehyung’s dismay, he finds you releasing your fingers from his own. Your hands flying to the nape of his neck, ultimately bringing him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Taehyung moans in delight when you tug at his long curls, you bite his lip in reply while lust paints your vision and dampens your panties.

Taehyung never knew he would miss the feeling of your lips against his when he painfully pushes himself away to situate himself comfortably on the couch. It was time for the lesson to begin.

You pout at the distance, trying to wiggle close until he motions for you to get into a particular position. Your insides swell with eagerness.

His voice is sweet and his hands are delicate when he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Get down on your knees for me sweetheart.” You obey immediately. He smirks at your sinking form. “Good girl.”

You swear right then and there your pussy had gained a working heartbeat at his words. The unfamiliar pulse thumping as if it were trying to break loose from the constraints of your sweatpants.

Your eyes are big and expectant, slowly drinking up the sight of Taehyung’s delicious figure seated above you. He sits on the couch like it’s his throne, legs spread to accompany your kneeling figure, and dominating stare pinning you down. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Wh-what do I do now?” You utter, making it known to Taehyung that he is in charge. He is in control.

Taehyung cocks his head to the side, using a decorated pointer finger to hither your hands towards him. Hesitantly, you raise both hands, lightly placing them down on his thighs.

A click of his tongue makes its way to your ears and you know you’ve already made your first mistake. Taehyung’s brows furrow, it’s obvious you need to make the next move but your brain is fuzzy and flustered. 

He sighs at your confused silence, bringing your small hands onto his belt. Oh, you know what you’re supposed to do now.  

“I thought you were smarter than this, how else are you meant to get my dick out, hmm?” The blush across your cheeks has definitely spread profusely from his teasing. Its once peachy pink tone deepening into an embarrassing cherry red.

The buckle of his belt jingles under your fingertips as you nervously undo them. You’re apparently too slow for his liking, Taehyung finishing the job by pulling his belt off his pants, leaving you to stare down at the large bulge covered by the fabric of his tight jeans. You thought you had your nerves under control but the way your hands start to shake is an indication that this is real. You’re really about to suck your best friend off.

Ever the observant friend, Taehyung is quick to notice the slight shake in your fingers. “Wait, stop.”

You do as he says, quickly settling your palms back on the thickness of his covered thighs. “Are you sure you want to do this? your hands are shaking sweetheart.” His voice is laced with concern, a total switch to his previous words.

Clearing your throat you reply, “oh, no, no I’m fine.” You lock eyes. “I just want to make sure I’m doing good so I can be good for him.”

Possessiveness flares within Taehyung’s chest and he has no idea why. Although he doesn’t let it show, he can’t help the swell of his ego at the knowledge that he’s the first to get you like this. Not Hoseok. Him.

So, he grins his wide boxy grin, dragging a finger down your warm cheek. “Don’t worry darling, you’re in great hands”

The commanding smirk etched onto his lips sparks a surge of confidence through your veins, begging you to finally touch him.

With a tug of your small hands, Taehyung’s constricting jeans are pried off the taut muscle of his thighs and are left to pool around his ankles. The excitement of finally being able to suck dick coursing through your body like lighting, and just like his jeans, Taehyung’s boxers are off in a second.

His cock springs, tall, hard and proud. Your jaw drops, Taehyung chuckles at your reaction. You feel an ooze of wetness pooling in your panties.

His size is nothing you’ve seen before, thick and girthy with an impressive length to match. You wince at the thought of fitting him down your throat.

The cold metal of his rings against your hands brings your attention to Taehyung’s handsome face. Without breaking any eye contact, he wordlessly wraps your hands around the thickness of his cock.

It’s warm and swells in your palm, your two dainty hands stacked on top of each other. Fingers trying so hard to wrap themselves around the sheer girth of his cock.

You’re not dumb, you know what comes next. With a sharp inhale you begin to stroke up his length, paying close attention to his facial expression to get an idea of how well you’re doing

Taehyung’s head tilts to get a better view at your hands, “grip it tighter for me… yeah fuck that’s it.”

His praise boasts you on, holding tighter onto his cock and gathering the slick of his pre-cum with a twist of your wrist. Your eyes remain focused on the way the skin moves with your hands and the way his tip glistens with arousal. You want to lick it.

“When you’re ready you can put your mouth- Ahh shit Y/N!”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence when you’re already so eager to have him in your mouth. You do what you think would feel best, sucking on the head of his cock like a sweet ice lolly on a hot summer's day. Your tongue tracing the thick circumference before dipping into his slit.

A light groan falls from his mouth as he watches you lap at the remaining pre-cum that glistens in the afternoon light. Taehyung almost forgets why he’s here, lost in your plump lips wet with saliva.

Right, he’s here to teach you how to give a blowjob. “Try and take my whole length in darling.” 

You nod, taking a deep breath, your mouth opening wider to take him in as far as you can. You try to keep your throat relaxed taking him inch by inch.

“That's a good girl”, he praises, “you’re doing so well for me.” 

Your knees squeeze together, acting to relieve some pressure on your aching heat. It had truly been a while since you got some serious action.

Surprisingly you’re able to make your way to the hilt of his cock, a choked gag sputtering from your lips.

A few strands of hair fall in your face, blocking your eyes in the process. Swiftly, Taehyung brushes the hair from your eyes while simultaneously lifting your head off of his cock. 

You release him with a satisfying pop, your eyes wide and makeup a little smudged. Taehyung coaches you through the next steps. “I want you to try and do that again, but when you come back up, lick the length of my cock and look at me while you do it.”

Humming in acknowledgment you grip the base of his cock before pausing. “Isn’t this what you like though? What if Hoseok likes to be touched in a different way?”

An unintentional growl bubbles out of his mouth. Oh how he wished he could take your mind off Hoseok and have you screaming his name, thinking about him instead.

He pushes down his discontentment with the other man on your mind, “men are simple creatures Y/N, just making out sometimes can get them going. And judging by the way you’re sucking my cock right now, I’m sure Hoseok will be crazy for you.”

As Taehyung explains the ins and outs of a man’s brain, you don’t make an effort to stop the teasing of his cock. His words sound slurred, they go in one ear and out the other, and besides the delicious length in front of you is much more fascinating.

For the time being you stare up at him, your eyes wide feigning interest in his words, all while you grip his cock in one hand and continuously lap at his tip with a kitten-like flick of your tongue. 

Taehyung finally realises that you’ve stopped listening when he feels the small yet downright sensual pleasure shooting through his cock. He grunts, pushing your hair back once again, “fuck, that’s hot. You’re so fucking good.”

His preoccupied hand squeezes the pillows beside him, the veins of his hands popping out. You do what he taught you, seductive eyes laser focused on him while your wicked tongue leaves a hot trail up the prominent vein on his dick.

“Shit Y/N you’re doing so well-”

You release him from your mouth disrupting his sentence, “can you fuck my throat?”

Taehyung swears his whole body just convulsed at your request. He looks away just so he can contain himself because holy shit.

Obviously Taehyung has thought about you being in this position, saying those words. Yet, no matter how many times he fantasizes this scenario, nothing would ever prepare him for those words to actually come out of your mouth with the most bewitching grin plastered on your pretty face.

He stutters, “I- no, I don’t know if you can take it darling.”

You grip his thighs, pout forming on those dangerous lips of yours, “please Tae, I want it. Want you to use me.”

Taehyung pushes the curls of his bangs away, a hiss steaming from his lips. “Alright, but if you feel any discomfort pinch my thigh, okay sweetheart?”

You’re impatient, “yeah, yeah, I can take your monster dick.” You place a small kiss on his thigh, “do your worst.”

His movements are all too fast, all too sudden. His fingers securing a death-grip on the mess of your hair before holding his cock up to your mouth. “You asked for it darling.”

Your mouth automatically widens, welcoming the rough intrusion of his cock as it slides all the way down your throat. A lewd gag fills the room.

A dark cloud of lust of dominance fogs Taehyung’s vision, his biceps flexing when he brings your head up and down his thick velvety length.

The room resounds with the filthy wet noises of your saliva covered lips pumping repeatedly. Taehyung breathes heavily through his nose, tilting his head against the cushions behind him. He keeps his hips still, yanking your hair at an obscene pace. A slew of curses and moans fly out into the air as he revels at the complete state of ecstasy you’ve put him under.

The heat of his member burns the back of your throat but you fucking love it. You open your teary eyes, gazing at his chiseled jaw and the way he shivers and groans above you. It only spurs you on when he glances back down, meeting your mascara ruined eyes.

It’s like a knee-jerk reaction. Taehyung harshly pushes your head all the way to the base of his cock. Your face is met with his abdomen, the hairs of his happy trail tickling your nose.

He leaves you there, and the burn in your throat rises, leaving you gagging, your throat tightening around him.

Taehyung believes after this he could never get the image of your messy docile eyes and tarnished lips out of his brain. He feels your throat constrict, “sh-shit, fuck Y/N, breathe through your nose.” You inhale. “That’s my good girl.”

He releases you from his member only to push your lips back onto him, going back to his beastly pace. “You look so fucking pathetic, you think Hoseok wants a messy girl like you?”

You gurgle around him, tears freely falling down your cheeks as you try to shake your head no. He only mumbles out a groan, his cock abruptly pulsing under your tongue like a steady heartbeat.

It's all too sudden when he releases your head off his length, a glob of drool dripping down your chin and onto your shirt. 

“Fuck sorry I was about to cum.”

Although your heart swells with pride you wonder, “why didn’t you?”

He runs a hand through his messy locks, “the purpose of this was to teach you, don’t you still want to practice?”

You’re smug with your answer, “I think I’ve got the hang of it now.”

He swipes a finger under your tear stained eyes, “getting cocky now are we.” 

You were cocky indeed, “well I did get you shaking under my touch didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes, “get up you brat, I’m gonna show you what you’ve been missing out on.”

Fucking finally.

You won’t lie, you were probably most excited to finally know what it feels like to receive head. Your mind is still fuzzy from Taehyung’s rough ministrations as you slowly get up. You wobble slightly and Taehyung is quick to stabilize you with two strong arms holding the curve of your hips in place.

With his arms already around you he pushes you towards the couch, kicking his jeans off in the process.

Back flat against his plush couch you’re already stripping off your sweatpants and panties together in one. “My, my aren’t you eager”, he teases, a glint of shamelessness twinkling in his brown orbs when he drinks up the plushness of your thighs leading to your dripping cunt.

Holding your knees in the palm on his hands, he spreads them open to reveal the glossy folds on your heat. He kisses his teeth, satisfaction and hunger clear on his face. “Fuck, isn’t this a pretty sight.”

His words bring back a blush on your cheeks, you pull him forward, your lips inches away from his own. “Shut up please.”

And he shuts you up real good. Smashing your lips to his, he envelopes you into a feverish kiss, your tongues dancing the devil's tango.

His hands are adventurous, feeling the mounds of your breasts over your shirt. “Why the fuck isn’t your shirt off yet huh?” He tuts, pulling on the cotton fabric.

“I want yours off too.” You cutely mumble tugging at the hem of his shirt, to which he complies, tugging it off in one fluid motion. 

You peel your baggy shirt off just in time to see Taehyung's arm flex as he takes his very own shirt off. “Have you been working out? My God Tae, you're as big as Joon.”

He inwardly smirks because yeah he’s been working out and it's clearly paying off. He doesn’t want to show his glee however, “can we not talk about other men when I’m about to eat you out.”

You chuckle, eyes trailing down his buff arms to his v-line that leads to his dick like an arrow directing you to his treasure. You bite your lip, unclipping your lace bralette, “sure, sure, let’s get the show on the road.”

It’s Taehyung turn to drink up the sight of your body. “Fuck, always imagined what these tits looked like under all those tight clothes you wear.”

He’s really feeding into your praise kink. “Well, were they what you expected?”

He sucks on one immediately and you arch your back at the unexpected pleasure. “Even better”, he squeezes them in his palms, “they’re fucking gorgeous.”

He sucks a deep hickey under your left breast, leaving you whimpering with a hand tangled in his hair. “Always imagined what you sounded like moaning for me.”

You can’t reply, his touches burning through your skin. He kisses down your sternum to your stomach until he’s hovering above your aching clit, a tantalising grin on his face before he’s diving in.

“Fuck!” You wail at the unfamiliar yet mesmerising feelings. His tongue is stiff and pointed, flicking quickly up and down your bundle of nerves. 

The grip you have on his hair is deathly but it's the only thing in your reach that can ground you. He licks a long stripe down your sopping slit, keeping his sharp eyes on you the whole time.

“F-feels so fucking good Tae!” You almost scream. He cups his lips around your swollen nub sucking on it with a shit-eating grin on his face.

You’re too dazed to comment on it, reeling in the new pleasures you’re experiencing. You stare down at him, your eyes half opened and so close to rolling to the back of your head.

However, they almost completely open wide at the sight presented before you. With two long fingers, Taehyung is shoving them in his mouth, soaking them with his spit before rubbing them onto your sensitive folds.

You beg. “Put them inside.. Please.” Taehyung doesn’t make a sound only kissing your clit as he plunges his ring decorated fingers into you.

You’re so wet his fingers slide into you with ease. He groans at the sensation, his view focused on the way your cunt greedily sucks him in.

“Look at you, getting my rings all dirty you filthy girl”, he scolds watching the way your essence drips into the crevices of his intricate jewellery. 

Taehyung increases the pace of his long fingers, finger fucking you into euphoria. He doesn’t stop there, his lips returning to your desperate clit in a wet mess of your juices and his saliva.

You can feel your orgasm bubbling in your stomach. It's hot and feels so unlike any other upcoming orgasm you’ve experienced. His fingers curl inside of you, his palm slapping your folds with his rapid pace and his lips don’t give any sign of stopping.

“Taehyung- Tae, I’m cumming!” You really scream this time, your orgasm taking control over your body like a demon. 

You swear your eyes black out, your body shaking, a warmth gushing out of your cunt as it spazzes out.

Your chest heaves and you blink, feeling a damp pool around you. Oh God, Did you piss yourself?

“Holy fuck Y/N, I can’t believe you just did that.”

You sit up, embarrassed, an apology falling from your lips.

“You just squirted on me.”

You’re flushed, “I- what?”

Taehyung almost looks akin to a wolf hunting down his prey. “That was the hottest fucking experience of my life, holy shit I’m so hard.”

Well at least you didn’t pee on his couch. There’s a surge of overwhelming need for his cock to be inside of you. You’ve never felt this way before, it’s scary but so is this whole experience. It’s definitely one for the books.

Getting up on your knees you hold onto his shoulders, Taehyung raises a brow. “Fuck, I need to ride you, can I ride you?”

You think you just saw his dick twitch at your words. He grins, “just for practice?”

Your smile is sickly sweet, “of course, just for practice.”

His arms are strong when he shuffles into a seated position all while holding your hips above his awaiting cock.

He pauses, a flash of his normal self resurfacing. “You’re on the pill yeah?”

You peck his lips, “yes, now stuff me full.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s sinking you down onto his length. 

You both let out moans of pleasure at the feeling of being complete. The stretch hurts so bad but hurts so good. He fills you up so well it has you speechless, the air trapped inside your lungs refusing to be released until your walls are comfortable around his impressive girth.

Mumbling a soft curse, you swivel your hips in slow circles, getting used to his large size. Taehyung watches you, hunger written on his face as he licks his lips and examines the way you fit so perfectly on his lap.

You test the waters, holding onto his shoulders for support. You lift your hips and settle back onto his lap. He groans at the wet squelch it makes and slaps your ass, grabbing it in his hand to squeeze it.

You pick up the speed, pumping up and down, whimpering at how well he fills you up. You keep your gaze trained on the image of his dick disappearing in your heat and pulling out with a wet sheen.

Taehyung tucks a finger under your chin, bringing you close to his face to push his soft lips onto yours once again.

It’s weird to say, but you don’t think you can get tired of kissing your best friend. He knows exactly what you want and knows exactly how to make your head spin.

With his large hands of yours, you pick up the pace, slamming your ass onto his hips. You leave his lips, kissing the side of jaw and suckling a few lovebites behind his ear.

His voice is deep and sultry, “fuck yeah, that’s it.” You wail in his hold, pushing yourself to meet his thrusts below. Your thighs burn but the pleasure burns so much hotter.

You feel your second orgasm of the night rising within you and can tell Taehyung is close too. Taehyung assists you, using his thighs to push up into you. Your juices drip down onto his pelvis and both of your breaths get heavier.

His thrusts are fast and rough, creating loud slapping noises that echo around his empty apartment. He grunts, folding his head into the crook of your neck. He’s about to cum and so are you.

With one final gasp your release hits you like a truck. Your thigh shakes in his lap and Taehyung bites at the delicate skin of your neck. His warm seed shoots inside of you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips.

Taehyung releases his hold to lean back onto the couch. He keeps his softening cock inside of you, lazily staring at your fucked out expression.

You play with his rings, “well, how did I do?”

The shit-eating grin is back. “Hmmm, I think you may need more practice.”

[nevarrhoe]

mea culpa - four (m.m)

SUMMARY: "mea culpa" (exclamation - noun/legal term)

used as an acknowledgement of one's fault or error.

↪ in which matt murdock accidentally falls in love with the district attorney's daughter. (masterlist + playlist)

warnings: afab reader/fem pronouns, age gap, swearing, no explicit smut in this chapter, but arguing & angst

MINORS DNI - this has been clearly marked as having explicit content and with these clear warnings in place, you are reading this whilst being aware of said content and i bare no responsibility for what you to choose to consume. with that in mind, if someone who a) does not have their age in their bio or b) does so and is a minor, you will be blocked.

this took me far too long i'm sorry!! deadline week really hit me lmaooo and also writer's block. anyways, i hope you enjoy. and also sorry again for the end :)

-jazz xx

What was meant to be one night with Matt Murdock quickly turned into two, and then three, and then four. And then it was a week, and before you knew it, an entire month had passed. Twenty-eight days of nothing but bliss and what Matt was sure was the closest thing he had ever experienced to heaven. It was like you existed in a bubble: just you and him, locked away in his apartment, eating Chinese or fucking on every viable surface. It was nirvana in a way you had never thought existed.

He was everything you needed, in every sense: grounding and warm in conversation, with a sharp wit and dry humour. He also made you feel things you hadn’t thought possible. You figured that was the difference between the college boys you used to fuck around with, compared to a weathered man in his thirties. That fact had worried you at first - the age difference, the class difference, the everything difference - but none of it mattered when you were together. You and Matt matched each other in a weird way. 

He’d spent his entire life searching for the next thing: the next case, the next bad guy to take down, the next adventure. When he was with you, he felt satisfied. There was no scratch to itch. No thirst to find something greater. He was content. 

And for you, your focus was always pissing off your father. Matthew was just old enough and just enough of a good man and a good lawyer to do that. Not that you ever planned on your old man finding out about your relationship, but he provided an opportunity that felt just sexy enough to fulfil your rebellious side.

Maybe it was more than that. Maybe there was a connection. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want to give it too much thought. Thinking ruined everything. 

“Good morning.”

Matt woke you as usual; strong arms wrapped around your waist and coarse hands roaming over your stomach. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck and pulled you towards him. It was clear what his intentions were - the same as they had been last night and every night before that. 

“Morning,” you rolled over and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I would love to stay, Matthew, but my dad needs me in the courthouse at nine.”

He let out a low grumble. “I didn’t realise that you worked for him.”

“I don’t,” you grinned at his expression. “But in order for him to keep paying off my credit card, I gotta run a few errands for him every now and then. That way, I don’t have to work and…” you leant in a little closer, pressing a kiss to his ear. “You get me all to yourself, all the time.”

“Okay, yeah,” Matt huffed, pressing a hungry kiss to your lips. “I can deal with that.”

“Good,” you smiled. “So you’ll let me go?”

“What choice do I have?”

“None,” you replied. 

Rolling out of bed, you scooped up the clothes that had been discarded the night before. Matt had taken you to Josie’s, and then you’d stumbled back here and resumed your usual activities. It was rare that you went out to drink in public; anywhere past Midtown was out of the question because of your friends, and Josie’s because of his. Last night, however, Foggy and Karen had both been working late so you’d had the chance to hang out there for a few hours without being seen. 

You shoved your blouse into your bag and picked up a shirt of Matt’s, pulling it over your head. He didn’t protest, instead laid back in bed with his arms folded behind his head as you pitter-pattered about. It was nice to listen to. 

“I’ll see you later,” you softly pushed back some of his hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

Things had never been this intimate in the beginning. The first few times you’d stayed over, there was no hanging about in the morning. You would normally just up and leave - sometimes before Matt had even woken up. Then, you’d started staying for coffee, and then breakfast, and now…you never left without saying goodbye. It felt wrong. 

“Or,” Matt grabbed you by the waist, pulling you back into bed. “You could just stay.”

He pressed a kiss to your lips, purposefully centring your core on top of - as it was often so eloquently put - his morning wood. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, tangling your hand in his hair. It felt impossible to get enough of him. Every time you thought he’d given it his all, he gave more. That had been why you’d kept coming back - at first, at least. 

“Matthew,” you grumbled. “I can’t. I have to go, I have to shower before I get to my dad’s office-”

“- shower here,” he cut you off, lips momentarily straying from your neck. “Wear my clothes. I’m sure I have a suit that will fit you.”

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Because that won’t be a dead giveaway, will it?”

Matt paused, juniper eyes seemingly finding yours for just a split second. It was a tense subject -you and him, and…well, everyone else. Your relationship would be a little more than just frowned upon. You’d probably get a bollocking from your dad and maybe a limit on your credit card but it was more than that for him. His entire career would be blown up. 

“I wish…” Matt spoke, but then stopped. 

“What is it, Matt?” you asked. 

“I wish we didn’t have to hide,” he murmured. 

That was the first time he’d ever said anything that implied your relationship was more than just a fuck: if you were just sleeping around, what was there to hide? Obviously, you hung out at his apartment but what if he wanted…more. Like dinner, and dates, and things that normal couples did. All things that were elements of a relationship built on something other than mere craving. 

“Yeah,” you softly sighed. “I mean…what we can do? Sneaking around might get old but I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, it’s alright for now,” Matt replied.

For now. 

–

You made it to the courtroom just after 9AM. 

The weather was warm that day, so you’d opted for a little black dress (Gucci, of course) and some black heels (Chanel, stolen from your mother). All eyes were on you as soon as you entered the courtroom: that was natural, given your relation to the District Attorney, but also because you were the nicest thing to look at in a ten-mile radius. There was nothing but old men, stretched out down the corridor with their brief-cases and creepy smiles. 

And then, hanging out by the vending machines, was Matt Murdock. He dared not acknowledge your presence but even just seeing him made you feel better. 

“Darling!” 

“Dad,” you spun around on your heel. “Good morning.”

“You’re late,” your father replied. “Where have you been? You’re late.”

“It’s 9:03.”

“Traffic,” you shrugged. “You’re lucky I’m here at all so I suggest you do not talk down to me-”

“- don’t get mouthy,” he cut you off. “Not here.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “What do you want me doing?”

He shoved a pile of folders into your hand with a fake smile. “I need you to look at the alibis for the Thomspon case. There are holes everywhere and it’s well below my pay grade to find them.” 

“Holes?” you frowned. 

“Yes. Holes. The defendant’s alibi is about as reliable as you after a few martinis,” he explained. “You have a law degree. I’m sure you can figure it out, sweetheart.”

“Right,” you muttered. 

“Take them to my office,” he said. “One of Thompson’s attorneys will be around this afternoon to come and collect them. Tread lightly with them. They haven’t been happy with me since they realised I’ve basically got this one in the bag.”

“Another unfair win for the DA?” you innocently asked. 

 “A very fair win,” your father shot back. “I’m surprised they’re letting him go to court at all with the lack of evidence that they have. It’s not going to be a good day when they lose.”

Your father’s office was situated at the back of the courthouse. The man had overhauled as much as he could without the city kicking up a fuss about it being a protected landmark. The walls had been stripped and painted white, and all the furniture replaced with black leather chairs and glass desks. There was no art - no books, no pictures, nothing. He’d spent millions on it and it was somehow still alarmingly more boring than the grey rooms the attorneys, defendants and witnesses had to sit in down the hall.

That was telling, wasn’t it? Maybe your dad wasn’t in charge of funding for every last room in this place but hell. He didn’t exactly look out for the little guys. It was a wonder he kept getting voted back in. That was probably another matter of money. 

Your task made for a very boring morning in a very boring place. There were hundreds and hundreds of papers to look through; testaments from witnesses, alibis from the defendant, CCTV footage that had him confirmed in what felt like twenty places at once. You didn’t have much time to go through them either, not when his attorneys were due to collect the evidence at midday. 

“There’s no fucking case here at all,” you quietly muttered to yourself. Your dad had been right - for once. His lawyers were doing him dirty by letting him go to trial with every piece of evidence pointing against him. 

And it wasn’t until you got to the last page that you saw his lawyer’s signature and realised who exactly those lawyers were: an M.Murdock and F. Nelson.

Fuck.

Leaning back in your chair, you glanced up at the clock: 11:58. Either Matt or Foggy would be here any second to collect the files, and you could only hope it wasn’t the one you’d been sleeping with for the last month. That would have been an awkward conversation. 

But fate was a bitch, right? And you knew the second that you heard the tapping of a cane that Matt was right outside your door. 

He knocked twice. Matt always knocked twice. 

You stood up, brushing off your skirt and pulling open the door. “Mr Murdock - please, come in.”

Matt had you pushed up against the door the second it was closed, large hands gripping your waist and lips attacking your neck. Normally, you would have been completely there for it - there was an expensive sofa that you could fuck on right there. It was just that your mind was a little…preoccupied. And he picked up on it right away. 

“Hey,” Matt frowned, hand ghosting over your cheek. “What’s up?”

“It’s uh…” you pulled back and pushed his hands off of you, moving to lean against the desk. 

“Is it the way your dad spoke to you earlier?” he asked. His face was etched with concern - and maybe a little with overprotectiveness. “Because I overheard that and I didn’t like it one bit-”

“- it’s your case, Matt,” you cut him off. “I just signed off on the evidence on behalf of my dad. We’re - I mean he’s happy to take it to court but I feel like I should tell you that it’s a guaranteed win for his office.”

Matt frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The evidence in those files isn’t going to help your client one bit,” you quietly explained. “And we have a legal duty to deliver it to the courts.” 

“Thomspon is innocent.”

“You might think so but his entire defence is hearsay. The victim’s statement is pretty much bulletproof and there’s CCTV footage that places him at the crime scene,” you continued. “If you want my advice, I’d get him a plea deal and call it a day.”

Matt’s body language changed in a second. He took a step back from you, dark features etched with an entirely new type of frown that you were yet to see on him. You didn’t like it. 

“Are you giving me legal advice-”

“- no!” you snapped. “I’m just trying to help you. I know you put your heart and soul into this case-”

“- and you’re about to blow it apart!” he cut you off. “Where did you even get all this?”

“This evidence was delivered to the office. I’ve signed it and I’m sending it off once you’ve signed it too. I was just trying to prewarn you.”

You’d come this far without your differences getting between you. Now, it felt like they’d hit like a bullet. 

“Thomspon is an innocent man,” Matt lowly repeated. “And you’ve just assisted in providing evidence that’s going to send him to prison -”

“- why are you acting like I’ve done this on purpose?” you cut him off. “Like I said, I’m just doing my job and you’re just doing yours. It’s not that deep.”

“Not that deep?” he scoffed. “Maybe not to you. This is all just money to you and your father, isn’t it? Just a throwaway case, maybe.” 

“No!” you exclaimed. “Not at all. I didn’t mean to get involved. I’m just the messenger, Matt-”

“- no, it’s more than that.”

Matt paused for a second - though it felt much longer. He seemed angry at you but you were pissed at him. Not only for kicking off at you, but for putting you on the same level as your father when you had tried so hard not to let that happen. How many hours had he spent convincing you that you were your own person? Encouraging you to stand up for yourself?

“We’ll never see things the same way,” Matt continued. “At the end of the day, I’m me, and you’re just…you’re a spoilt little rich girl.” 

You froze. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“I…” he trailed off. “It was easy to ignore at first but I think this has shown me. We’re from different worlds and no matter how hard you try, you’re never going to understand-”

“- you should watch your mouth, Matthew Murdock,” you took a step towards him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I might be a spoilt little rich girl but I would much rather be that than a man who runs his fucking mouth and kicks off without even listening to what I have to say.”

“Maybe I didn’t word it the best,” he calmed down for a second, trying to gather himself. “What I meant was-”

“- oh, I know what you meant!” you laughed incredulously. “Just take the files and get the fuck out. This was never going to work anyways.”

[alicemitch09writes]

forever person epiphanies

pairing: miya atsumu x fem!reader

summary: A story about Atsumu and his musings about his first true love, his forever person, his ‘the one that got away’.

author’s notes: so here it is, the long awaited atsumu-solo fic. However, it’s not the fic any of y’alls are thinking about. I’ve thought a lot about this, thinking and wondering which angle I should take. I mean, I almost had someone in mind only to be hurt because atsumu couldn’t let go (I’m forever thinking of that one anon’s essay on how atsumu would love). Kinda played with that angle only to stop, because…reasons. Sooooo, this is the end product of me ceaselessly entertaining the idea when I have a lot of other WIPs to worry about whilst battling with writer’s block for some time. Coincidentally, I purposely posted this on the anniversary of '(un)loving miya atsumu'! so, kinda fitting, i guess? hehe (◕ ꒳ ◕✿) IMPORTANT NOTE: This fic is from a series which I HIGHLY suggest you read, or else you'll be left thoroughly confused to the many references mentioned in this fic!

also available on ao3.

disclaimer: i own NOTHING but the plot.

Dear Atsumu,

I hate how much your face is the first thing that comes to mind when I think about the word - ‘happiness’ and ‘love’. Happiness, because it radiates off your bones, no matter the situation, in court when up against strong opponents, thwarting plays with a setter dump or when you’re up serving, or when pulling off nasty quicks with your brother or any other player, off court when you fight with Osamu over the last ice cream at the convenience store, when you share a stupid joke with your dad, or even when you’re with the people you care about. Love, because you do everything with just the right to too much amount of love, pouring your everything in it, pouring your heart in the things that make you happy may it be volleyball, Osamu, your family, Mika- not a single wasted opportunity to convey your love and happiness. Nobody compares the way you do.

You’ve set a standard for almost everything, which is why you expect nothing for the best to be at the receiving end of both happiness and love.

I hope you know that to me; you are the embodiment of both happiness and love. Because I really hate how you remain the embodiment of these two words I have difficulty expressing.

Your name literally translates to 'to devour' and in a sense, you are someone who happily, readily accepts love and happiness on a daily basis, allowing it to fill you up to the core and share it with everyone.

You are everything that is everything – the sun after a stormy day, the sunshine in my veins, the kiss of the wind against my skin, the light to my darkness, my sunflower. You are everything to me, and to you, I offer, my whole heart, which you don’t have to worry returning, because it’s yours. Always has been.

     - (Y/N)’s letter, 1 out of 13

For as long as he can remember, there was always that one figure in his life that he wouldn’t trade anything for in the world. His brother was pretty up there, biologically designed to be by his side through thick and thin, whether he likes it or not.

Apart from his annoying twin of a brother, however, came another person, female, small, quiet, stoic, unmoving, unyielding, and had the prettiest shade of (e/c) eyes. Someone who came so unexpectedly in his life, just when the cherry blossom bloom. His one constant.

“GET BACK HERE YOU SCRUB!” 10-year-old Atsumu rages, chasing after his twin.

Osamu easily outpaces him, running in circles for the rest to say. “Get back here you scrub~” he mimicked, raising the pitch of his voice to match his twin’s.

“YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!” yelled the other, nearly tripping on his feet as he took a turn.

“Uweh~”

“SHITTY ‘SAMU, GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!”

“Catch me first~”

“WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU-“

“What are you two doing?” a voice, coming from the entrance door, stops both dead cold.

Turning their head, the twins meet the gaze of their childhood friend and manager, (L/N) (Y/N).

“(Y-Y/N)-chan…” Atsumu started.

Quietly, Osamu skidded off to the side, before stopping as her gaze landed on him. The lad froze on the spot. Expression unchanging, steely (e/c) silently daring him before Osamu stood straighter.

Walking towards them, ever so slowly, the twins fidget on the spot, frozen still until she was standing right in front of them.

“E-Er…”

“W-We…”

Both twins said at the same time, the girl before them just stared, unimpressed, waiting.

On the other side of the gym, the rest of the players watched in awed silence, especially at the (h/c) teen.

“Uwah, (L/N) doesn’t have to say anything…”

“Her gaze speaks plenty enough.”

From the side, a dark-skinned teen smiled, relaxing his shoulders at the sight of the girl.

Aside from being surprisingly reliable at her young age, she also knew just how to handle these twins, keep them in their place, while also supporting them from the sidelines.

“Great job today everyone!”

“Great job!” everyone yelled back, some excitedly especially at the prospect of going home.

“It’s the last day of camp, you guys have any plans?” Aran asks the trio as they head towards the gate.

“Yeah!”

“We’re having a dinner party!”

(Y/N) nods from the side. Excitedly, the twins turn to her. After three steps she adds. “And I’m invited, as it’s a joint family celebration.”

Ojiro hums, eyes widening slightly. “Ah, must be nice to have good food with a family close to you, not to mention, a family friend as well!”

Having known the twins and the young (L/N) for a while now, their relationship has always been a pleasant discovery to find. And to be honest, it’s making him jealous. Looking over at (L/N) quietly making comments at the twins here and there, he smiles to himself. Must be nice to have someone like a friend, ready to watch over and guide you every step of the way.

With just the twins, they must be enough of a force to deal with and because they’re two halves of a whole idiot. Thankfully, there’s (Y/N) who help keep the twins in check. Because while the twins have each other, it’s always nice to have a mediator or someone who can keep the twins in line.

“Well, looks like your ride’s here,” Ojiro nods at the waiting van waiting by the entrance, the driver waving happily at them.

“Ah! It’s uncle!” Atsumu points happily.

“’Tsumu, it’s rude to point!” Osamu rolls his eyes.

Ignoring his twin, Atsumu runs off ahead. “SHOTGUN!”

Not long after, Osamu runs after his twin. “NO FAIR, ‘TSUMU!”

Atsumu’s laugh sounds off in the air, before it turns into curses as Osamu begins to outrun him. While the twins run ahead, Ojiro and (Y/N) were left to their dust, sighing amongst themselves.

“Such energetic rascals.” Ojiro shakes his head.

Beside him, (Y/N) could only press her lips into a tight line.

“Well, guess I’ll probably be seein’ ya guys around, then.”

Nodding, (Y/N) gives a slight bow. “Until we meet again, Aran-san.”

Behind them, the twins stopped arguing amongst themselves, calling out their goodbyes to the older kid.

Unfortunately, Osamu had won the mini race and was seated up front, much to Atsumu’s annoyance.

“Shitty ‘Samu!” he growled under his breath after fastening his seatbelt.

From the front seat, his twin turned on his seat to stick his tongue out to his brother before facing the front, missing the disgusted look on his twin’s face. Beside him, (Y/N) could only watch their little antics with an impassive expression. But from the front seat, looking over the dashboard mirror, her uncle could see the glimmer of emotions flashing from his nieces’ eyes.

“Alright kids, off we go!”

And slowly, they cruised along the road.

Surprisingly enough, Atsumu soon got over his loss, humming along to the latest song playing from the radio. Up front, Osamu started chatting with uncle about the kinds of food waiting for them at home.

Seated behind her uncle, (Y/N) could only blend into the background, looking at the window whilst the boys talk amongst themselves.

“Psst, (Y/N)!”

But then, the boy beside her beckons.

Turning away from the window, she meets honey brown. “I got something for ya!”

Without waiting for another word, he picks his bag from the ground. Music continues to play from the radio, Osamu and her uncle continue talking about heaps of food prepared, ordered, and waiting for the three of them when they get home. Atsumu reaches inside his bag and produces a paper bag in hand. With a smile, he hands it over. “Belated happy birthday!”

It was summer now, and her birthday was last spring – March 23.

Taking the bag in her hands, she meets up to his honey browns again, seeing him fidget in excitement. Returning his excitement, she carefully opens up her gift, (e/c) eyes widening slightly.

“A stationary set?”

“Yeah! Remember we had to make letters for class and do an exchange thing? I got your letter!” her eyes widened for a fraction, fingers smoothing over the papers and envelopes. “You write really good, (Y/N).” Her cheeks start to flush. “Kinda like poetry, even though I’m too dumb to understand any of them.”

Smiling, she stares down at the stationery set in hand. “These are a lot, Atsumu.”

“Ah, well…you know, you can just write stuff up and send it when you want! Emailing’s fun and fast and all, but nothing beats an honest to goodness and heart written letter. It has more heart to it! Plus, you know, you can make a love letter confession to someone you like.”

Her smile grows, exposing her dimples, probably at his wording.

For some reason, Atsumu couldn’t look away from this.

(Later that night, a young girl sits by her study table in the dead of night, her lamp open, big sister sleeping in the background, unaware of what her little sister was up to. In hand, she fingers at the stationary letter set gifted to her earlier that day, unable to erase the smile on her face. Carefully taking one letter and paper, she sets them on her desk, smoothing over the paper neatly. Taking a pen from her holder, she caps it. Staring at the blank paper, the blank paper stares back. Remembering the smiling boy from earlier, her heart feels full. Before she can help herself, she begins writing. Pouring her whole heart into the letter. When she finishes, she starts giggling to herself – careful to keep it down lest she wakes her sister. Lifting the letter, another incredulous giggle escapes her. She really ended up writing one, and so fast, too!

Shaking her head, she sighs before carefully folding and sliding it in the letter. Afterwards, she holds the letter in her hands. Her love letter for Atsumu, remembering his words that she should write her heartfelt letters to someone she likes, breaking into a giggling mess again. With another shake of her head, she sets the stationary set aside and stares again at the letter, wondering what she should do with it. her desk, with stickers added by her older sister, remains open with one box sticking like a sore thumb amongst the rest. Decidedly, she opens the box and stores the letter in, along with the girlish feelings from earlier. Reaching over, she stares at the box longingly for a while thinking deeply to herself.

Maybe one, she thinks to herself. With a sigh, she pushes it to a close.

Or maybe never.)

Dear Miya Atsumu,

We’re now 15 and at the end of middle school. Next year, the three of us – you, Osamu, and I, will be off to Inarizaki High School. It wasn’t my first choice, because I really wanted to go to Nigawa Gakuin because Uncle said it’s a great school to go to. However, when you heard of this you threw a fit and tried to convince me for days to go to Inarizaki with you.

Days , mind you. Days of you convincing me that Inarizaki was just leagues better than Nigawa, that it had better science programs, that it had a better academic curriculum. Also, lest we forget, that Mika, Mom, and Uncle were there! So why should I be any different? Of course, you and Osamu were going there, too!

I thought it was selfish, that you wanted to sway me, and to find that you did not support me.

But then, you also told me that you just couldn’t imagine parting ways with you and Osamu. “It’s three for three,” you’d say, as we spent so many threes together – three years in elementary, three years in middle school, and now three years of high school was waiting for us.

Right then and there, I realized, that I could never say no to you. Neither could I deny that I wanted the same, too. Not just the ‘three for threes’, but because I wanted to stay with you a bit longer. We’re still young, but the future ahead of us is scary and full of mysteries. With what we have now, I thought that going off on my own and starting anew would be best. Boy was I wrong, I still wanted to be with you. And Osamu. And Mom. And Mika. And Uncle.

You have me, Atsumu. You’ll always do.

Tomorrow will be our closing ceremony, marking an end to an era and a start towards a new beginning.

I can’t wait for what tomorrow brings, especially that I’ll face it with you.

- (Y/N)’s letter, 2 out of 13

Intimidating as she was, (L/N) (Y/N) was honestly one of the sweetest, most thoughtful, and kindred souls that the Inarizaki Volleyball Club has ever known and blessed to have as their manager.

Despite having similarities with a certain senior, she was special in her own way.

“One victory at a time,” she says to Riseki during Inter-High, after a failed serve, a soft smile on her face. As though she hadn’t thrown the dirtiest, harshest glare at the Inarizaki stands who booed at the younger boy.

Taken completely by surprise, her words soon instilled a fire within him, perfecting his next serve when he was called up. Unable to hide the proud smile on her face from the benches, right next to their also smiling coaches.

“She’s a miracle worker, that one.” Aran would say, eyes brimming with pride.

The Miya twins – Atsumu, most especially, couldn’t help but agree.

She didn’t earn her moniker of ‘Inarizaki’s Fox Keeper’ for nothing.

Through his years traversing the yearning for volleyball, grueling academics, and just plain, unpredictable life she was the one constant next to his brother, the one person who would always be there for him through thick and thin.

She was also the strongest person he knew – one who chose to support her family at a very young age after a rather traumatic experience, one who chose to grow up so fast just to support her mentally and emotionally vulnerable mother, to be there for her siblings, and strong enough to deal with both him and Osamu just fine for the years she’s been with them. Strong enough, even, to remind him over and over, albeit strictly and far more directly than his own brother, to temper his unsatiable hunger for volleyball and to make sure his ego doesn’t get the best of him.

A girl so strong.

And yet, he broke her. So easily.

He forgot that even diamonds break under pressure.

At the mere mention of her name, practically everyone he knows would associate the words ‘strength’ and ‘responsibility’. She, being the very embodiment of the two words itself.

But not everyone is aware that there was more to it underneath. That even she wasn’t safe from heartbreak.

The cracks that she carefully concealed underneath her fine and seemingly impenetrable surface just chipped away to dust by every pressure breaking through her fine exterior caused by him. No, there was always something about her that seemed way when they were younger. He saw the way she kept her eyes glued to her siblings, almost overbearingly, how she held to her younger brother’s hand up until brother boy insisted he was big enough to go on his own, saw the glare she gave any male who tried to hit on her sweet older sister, or even the interested looks thrown towards both her mother and uncle. Or even that one time she eyed him and his father laughing over a silly joke, almost longingly.

For underneath her carefully concealed exterior was an already fragile and deeply traumatized little girl. She wasn’t perfect, she’s always been broken. She just needed one more little push that would completely destroy her.

And he did that to her.

So easily.

A year.

It took nearly a year of silence, a year of that one absence, a year of blind, childish hatred.

Almost a year and her almost permanently walking away from his life – without his knowledge, to see what he’s done.

When did threes become twos?

When did he start to realize the absence right beside him?

When did his hunger and love for volleyball suddenly became overwhelmed with emptiness?

When did the emptiness start to shake his love for the sport?

When did the absence of that one someone became so greatly felt that it felt like a black hole to his existence?

Walking down the hall, his eyes instantly catch (h/c), walking aimlessly in familiar maroon and white tracksuit. (e/c) eyes were looking straight ahead, but he knows that she has a million things going on in her head.

The sight of her perked him up.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” he called out, rushing towards her.

The teen jumped slightly, turning her head. “Captain,” she greets, holding her clipboard to her chest.

He stops a few feet, eyes greedily taking her in head to toe. “Where’re ya off to?”

“Laundry room.” She replies quickly, tucking wayward strands of hair behind her ear.

“Do you need help with it?”

“No need.” She says with a shake of her head, now holding the clipboard with both hands. “In addition, I already have Asano, since I’m also training her.”

That makes Atsumu smile, entertained by the fact that the club now has two extra helping hands. “That’s nice. What a reliable senpai you are, huh, (Y/N)?”

Her mouth twitches a bit from his words. Usually, her eyes would be filled with warmth when she knows he’s up to no good – as is his default phase. But now, they’re just…blank. Almost wary, confused, scared.

“Well,” she drops her gaze. “if that’s all-“

“Wait!” he stops her, just as she took a step. Those (e/c) eyes land on him in question. He swallows thickly. “D-Do you have to go so soon?” he takes a step. “P-Practice doesn’t start in a while.”

“I’m aware. But you must know that a manager’s work extends even beyond practices. We do logistical work, as well.” Atsumu swallows thickly once more, especially at her clipped tone. “I have to see to it that everything’s in order to lessen any burdens that may waste precious time.”

Unable to help it, Atsumu smiles.

She always had to see things through, had a plan for almost everything and wanted to make sure that absolutely nothing went to waste.

She almost always looks like this – looking like she’s the most collected teen you’ll ever meet, only to find that underneath it all, she’s not fine at all.

Not one bit.

Lifting her wrist, (Y/N) pulls on her sleeve to read the time on her watch, muttering under her breath.

“Well, Captain, I guess I should take my leave now.”

Bobbing her head, she turns and leaves when a hand on her wrist stops her halfway.

She had a visceral reaction – pulling her hand away, putting a distance between them. It reminded him very much of middle school, when they came across her dad. Except she didn’t have that burning hate in her eyes.

“(Y-Y/N)?”

His hand was still raised in the air, could still feel how she jumped at his touch before violently pulling away.

Just confusion and…fear.

Her reaction stung, like a stab to the heart.

Shaking her head, an almost pained look on her face as she held her hand against her chest. “I just…it’s just…” lowering her head, she swallowed hard. “I never forgot that you hate me.” That stopped him cold.

Clearing her throat, she held her clipboard with both hands. “I apologize if I overreacted. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Silenced by her words, he could only watch. The silence seemed to generate some sort of reaction to her, because she turned her head to him curiously, as though her words from earlier meant nothing. “Don’t you hate me?”

He sputtered. “W-Wha…?”

“I mean, after last year, it was clear that you hated me.”

Atsumu also came to a horrible realization: he may be on a high from the realization for all his faults, but she just was numbed by the pain. Her heart is tired, from everything that had to do with him, tired of loving him.

He forgot how fragile the human heart was, especially a woman’s heart.

Do you know how it felt to see the strongest person you know fall apart because of you? Unknowing of the inner turmoil they’ve had to deal with all their life, only to have you – their best friend, their first love, amplify the hurt and pain they’re going through?

Honestly, Atsumu couldn’t believe how much of an asshole he really was.

He was a lot of things, but an asshole? A heartless asshole? That was really something.

And what made it worse was the fact that despite all the pain he caused her, (Y/N) was acting like it was nothing to her, had to forcibly pull herself together in order to manage the team, seeing her hurt as her own fault – never had he felt so ashamed of himself.

“Well, I don’t!” he tells her, voice cracking. “I don’t, okay?” He repeats.

But his actions from last year said otherwise.

Before he could say anymore, Asano appeared, jumping at the sight of the two of them, as though she intruded into something. Quietly apologizing under her breath, she was just about to leave before (Y/N) reassured her, excused herself to him, and left with Asano in tow.

I want to say that I know you better than anyone else – anyone ever would and could. I probably know you better than you think.

I know this, because you’ve hurt me the most.

Hurt me in ways I never thought you would.

- Excerpt from letter 5 out of 13

The next time Atsumu saw (Y/N), she was dragging two trash cans in hand along the hallway. Something about seeing her like this, even outside practice hours, in her neatly pressed school uniform in lieu of her tracks, was not unusual to find but a sort of norm he found weirdly relaxing. That being said, seeing her carrying two loads of trash by herself angered him.

Mondays were usually the off days, as far as he knew (or heard from Osamu) it would usually be the day she offered to do class duties – taking out the trash, for one.

Steeling himself, he casually walks up to her, grabbing the can carrying the perishable trash.

“Here, let me give you a hand, (Y/N)!” he says with a smile, a wayward greeting.

He watches closely with bated breath at her reaction, response – everything. It took a while, seeing that he’s cut her off her deep trance, only to be disappointed at how guarded she became at the sight of her.

“Miya-san,” she greets with a slight nod.

Honestly, he doesn’t blame her after all the shit he put her through.

Remnants of glaze from her deep thinking slowly faded in those eyes of hers, he wondered what she was thinking about before he chimed in. Though, he doubts she would even tell him.

“What were ya thinking about?” And yet, he found himself asking anyway.

Seeing as the blond-dyed teen takes the other trash can in hand, and with ease, she resigns to lift the can on hand.

“…just about the kind of drills we should do with the new recruits,” decidedly, she tells him.

Humming, he adjusts the can slightly, comforted instantly by her response. “So, you’re tweaking the stuff we usually do?”

“Maybe, considering that we mostly have to work on defense now that Akagi-san has graduated. We might have weakened our offense a bit with Aran-san having graduated, as well, but we still have Ginjima, Suna, and Osamu…and you.”

Smiling at this, the two carefully turn towards the stairs. “Need help with the drills?”

“No need, I can always approach either Coach Kurosu or Coach Oomi.”

“Yeah, but as captain, I should at least share my input as well! Not to mention, I also wanna get involved with my team and all.”

Safely reaching the ground floor, (Y/N) seems to contemplate on his words for a second, nodding then. “Alright, that can be arranged. I will be meeting with both coaches tomorrow, since we’re technically still supposed to be resting today. I shall be updating you before practice, Miya-san.”

Miya-san. Captain. It stings to hear it from her, especially with such a clipped tone.

“Ah, by the way, (Y/N),” she looks up, just as she emptied out the can. “are you on cleaning duty today?”

“Yes.”

A certain memory pops up in his head, causing him to frown and explain his tone. “Do you need help?”

At the back of his head, he could still see a lone person sweeping the floors, arranging the desks, and such all by her lonesome. A younger, smaller version of the same person in front of her.

His offer gives her pause, until she gives a faint shake of her head. “There’s no need for that, there are others who are cleaning as well. I just volunteered to take the trash out.”

Relieved, he relaxes his shoulders. Then he says that he’ll walk her back to her classroom.

“That’s really unnecessary- “

“Psh, no worries (Y/N)! It’s just a few walks anyway~” he smiles. “Plus, I need the exercise!”

Despite this, she remains unyielding to even his best smile, at his sincerest. Practically forcing the other bin from his hands into hers, plastering a thin smile as she walks ahead.

“Thank you for your help, Miya-san. I’ll be updating you sometime this week.” With a bow, she turns and leaves, taking the two trashcans in hand. All while Atsumu watches.

So this is the reality he has made.

Dear Atsumu,

Sometimes I wish you could see how much I love you

I like you, and not just in a friend-way

Do you even realize how much hold you have on me

Sometimes, I wish I could hate you. I really do. Because sometimes, you’re really selfish. And prideful. And annoying. And superlatively childish that the noun itself seems like an insult to how you’ve become now.

Who am I kidding, of course you’re like this because you’re nothing more than a child. A child built into a six-foot-something build with a brain filled with nothing but idiotic things and self-fulfilling thoughts to boost your fragile ego.

Your name reads ‘to eat’ and wow, did you fucking eat a great load that you’ve shat upon everything and anything that came in your way.

I can’t believe this is the person you’ve become. You know what you’ve become? You’ve turned into my dad-

- Excerpt from letter 10 of 13, unfinished and with parts stained with dried tears, the edges crumpled

When the time came for the inevitable, that is life after high school, the three of them knew that their threes would now have to part.

Osamu in Kobe.

Atsumu in Osaka.

(Y/N) in Hiroshima.

Who knew that their unbreakable bond would come to this?

But even with the distance, even after an amicable rejection, Atsumu knew deep down in his heart that he would never ever forget his first love. He’ll accept that they can never be anything but friends, after shattering her fragile being. He’ll take it, so long as he could remained tethered to her in some way.

(Y/N) though, bless her soul, still found it in her heart to forgive him.

More than anything, he feels as though she should put him a tier together with her shitty father.

But she didn’t, that’s not her.

Having that knowledge alone was enough for him, made him love her even more.

Even though he was fine with them just being friends, Atsumu just can’t seem to shake away the feelings he has for (Y/N). As expected, he seeks her out when he can, excitedly talks to her, video calls (even though she’ll just be studying, he was fine with it, just watching her).

On the chance that both he and her would come home for Obon or special holidays, the feelings he had for her just seemed to build up. In fact, the more they interacted – both online and offline.

The feelings he had just couldn’t nor wouldn’t give up.

No matter what, they just couldn’t stop.

It was enough to make him feel guilty, for everything he did to her.

Had he been a better person then, he could have had her with him, be with him, love him just as she’s always had for years and years, and yet all he did was take said love of hers and walk over it.

On the morning of his first day at MSBY Black Jackals, he received a text from (Y/N). When he opened it, it was a selfie of her with a raised fist with the Peace Bell behind her. Following her selfie was a text that read, “I know you don’t need it, but I still prayed for the success of your professional athletics life. Welcome to the first day of your new life! You got this and I believe in you! Fighting!”

Fuck, he really can’t lie to himself, can he?

Atsumu stares at the photo of (Y/N), his (Y/N), eyes tracing the curve of her smile, the dents on her cheeks, at the flush on her cheeks.

Unconsciously, his expression began to soften, mirroring the smile he was looking at. Looking over the text, he reread it over and over, practically reading it in her voice.

Fingers began tapping for a quick reply before pocketing his phone. Feeling lighter, energized, he stares out his window contemplating on breakfast or a jog first. Eventually, he goes with the latter.

‘Thank you, (Y/N)! Chat with ya later!’

I want to say that it doesn’t hurt: hearing you go on and on how perfect my sister is, how beautiful she was, how amazing she was at soccer, or how she seems to brighten up your day just by the mere thought of her. Trust me, I know. I know my sister’s the best person out there - any guy would be lucky enough to date her. I just don’t want that someone to be you.

And yet, what can I do?

How are you blind to see that I’m right here? I won’t be as perfect, pretty, amazing, or bright as Mika, but I can try-

- Excerpt from letter 6 out of 13

One photo.

All it took was one photo and Atsumu felt his heart break.

For all the video calls, chats, and text messages, it took just a photo and of Suna, himself, to confirm that he and (Y/N) were dating. And somehow, for some reason, Atsumu couldn’t find it in himself to feel betrayed. Even his own brother didn’t know that the two had been dating!

It just caught him completely by surprise, is all.

Right after the reunion lunch, greeting Kita-san again a ‘happy birthday’, Atsumu later received a text from his twin inviting him out. Atsumu willingly complied.

As it turns out, Osamu has a higher tolerance of alcohol, Atsumu doesn’t, but he kept ordering drink after drink anyway. At first, the younger twin tried to shoot down Atsumu’s calls for another beer, growing increasingly annoying by the minute.

The older of the twins couldn’t help it though, beer – for all its disgusting first sip, was pretty addicting. Plus, it helped loosened him up after a rather hectic day!

So, Osamu just let him. Happily thinking that he won the bout on alcohol tolerance, and the fact that his brother would be the with a terrible hangover the next day.

Sliding over a new glass of beer, probably his fifth one, Atsumu just stared at it – at the bubbly, inviting golden liquor. The bubbles, for some reason, reminded him of (Y/N).

Why was that?

Oh right, she wore a white summer dress. She looked real pretty in it, like an angel. A really pretty, little angel.

And her smile?

The smile she had on?

Wow.

It just brightened her whole features, bringing the light casted by the moon to shame.

Even though they were miles way, with time stretching past the years, (Y/N) never left his mind. She’d linger at the back of his mind, whenever it wasn’t just about volleyball. At the end of the day, he was always left wondering what she was up to. When his mind tends to wonder, when questions come around, just the thought of her was enough to dispel it all and bring him to the surface.

Bringing the glass close, he held just the bottom, index finger running over the condensed glass. Carefully, his hands gripped on, bringing it to his mouth. Momentarily, as his view turned yellow, the curve of the glass somehow reminded him of the curve of (Y/N)’s smile, how it exposed the dents on her cheeks, the condensation seemed to allude of the time he made her cry.

Putting down his glass, he let out a breath.

Atsumu, who absolutely hated losing without a fight, knew this was the one thing he had to lose.

Through his muzzled mind, he could see her clearly – (Y/N), looking so beautiful dressed in white, smiling so radiantly, standing between Suna’s legs and arms.

Eventually, drunk, Atsumu broke down. “…I-I” he hiccups, voice trembling. “loved her, ‘Samu…” another hiccup, followed by a sniffle “I loved her.”

Osamu didn’t have to ask who, watching his brother with sad eyes.

“I really loved her…!” he hiccups again, strongly that he flinched.

Snot began dripping down his nose, tears rushing, too.

“I…” sniffles “…I didn’t know wha’ I 'ad…'til…it was…” taking an inhale, his voice becomes a shaky, miserable breath. “gone.”

Sighing, Osamu patted his brother’s shoulder. An unbecoming sight this was, heartbreaking to witness firsthand. Especially from someone who seems like such an ass, who’s all-high and mighty, a dumb perfectionist, condescending – all for the right and wrong reasons.

Atsumu leaned against the younger twin, crying softly. Osamu let him, uncaring that he was going to be covered in snot and tears.

“I-I loved her so much, ‘Samu!”

“…I know, 'Tsumu, I know.”

But it was already too late.

It pains me to know that you’re hopelessly in love with my sister. I mean, I can’t blame you – in every sense of the word, in every angle you look at, Mika’s perfect. And who am I? merely a shadow, an afterthought, a somebody next to her.

Sometimes, I wish you looked at me the same way you looked at her.

Sometimes, I wish I was the reason behind the shine in your eyes, the skip in your beat, the reason why you want to do more than just feed the hunger in you.

But this isn’t about me, this is about you.

You love two different things very differently.

I know your love for volleyball runs deep, but your love for Mika? Who knows how deep that pool is.

It just pains me to know how well I know you, how I’m right here, yet you chos-

- Excerpt from letter 9 out of 13

Japan National Team.

He made it.

He really did!

And he wasn’t alone!

Shoyo-kun, Bokkun, Omi, Aran-kun, Suna, and (Y/N), most especially!

When his manager broke out the news to him, his heart was filled with so much joy and happiness, ready to burst then and there.

It meant so much to him, to finally achieve his dream and go to greater heights.

Most especially, he had two of the most important people with him from his childhood – Aran and (Y/N).

(Y/N).

His breath hitched in his throat at her familiar frame, felt his whole being light up.

“(Y/N)!!!!!” he yelled excitedly, running towards her with his arms wide open.

Before she could fully face him, he had already engulfed her into a hug, lifting and twirling her around, laughing.

“Atsumu!” she laughed with him as she held on to him with her dear life.

“You’re here!!!!” he beams up at her, taking her in.

Without his twin next to him playing pro, he felt like half a person. Even when he was assured that this was his chosen happiness, just as culinary was Osamu’s, it didn’t mean it was any less lonely. Practically his whole life, it’s always been him and Osamu together. Veering off to their own paths of happiness was such an intimidating and scary journey.

Sure, he’s made friends here and there, but nothing can ever compete to the bond he has with his brother.

Well, almost nothing with (Y/N).

She, who was one of the most important people in his life.

She, who was also part of the equation of making his life’s journey in less lonely, boring, and a lot more worthwhile.

“I’m so happy you’re here!”

Even with her hair all over the place, from him twirling them around, watching her smooth it away from her face, wearing that smile he’s known his whole life, Atsumu just feels his heart settle and calm.

“While this reunion is grand and dandy, can you please put my girlfriend down?” says a voice, belonging to his high school teammate, Suna.

“Ah, right.”

Gently, he sets her down, watching as she rights her shirt and hair. Suna then walks towards her, his large hand engulfing in her small ones.

Despite everything that happened a year ago, Atsumu worked himself to be as civil as possible for (Y/N)’s sake. Amidst the amicable atmosphere of their reunion, there was still that tension between them.

“Hey, you’re all here!” another voice calls, rather cheerily.

The three turns, two of them have their faces split into huge grins.

“Aran-kun!”

“Aran-san!”

Said man grins ear to ear, walking in with his arms wide open to hug both him and (Y/N). Suna, not one for hugs, quietly pulled away, wore a smile as he watched the three, phone out to record the scene.

“Aran-san, are you crying?”

“HUSH, (Y/N)! DON’T RUIN THE MOMENT!”

“WAH, ARAN-KUN, YOU’LL MAKE ME CRY, TOO!”

Just like that, Atsumu feels like he’s starting volleyball all over again.

Even if his brother wasn’t there with them, it still feels like a part of him was with them.

…And then Hinata came barreling towards them, specifically at (Y/N) for a hug.

“I can’t believe they managed to get you, too!” He says to (Y/N) after their little meeting with the rest of the other members of Japan National Team. There were definitely a lot of promising players this year. And staff, too! In fact, practically half of the team and staff were comprised of promising youths!

They were all currently resting at the lounge area, relaxing, and catching up. Groups were split into smaller groups, enough for the athletes to get to know their fellow teammates or be acquainted with them.

“Me, either to be honest.” Settled in her seat, she props her arms on the table, leaning against it as a bright smile fills her pretty face.

(Y/N).

His (Y/N) was going to be on his national’s journey with him as one of the managers and as their local sports psychologist.

It still feels so surreal.

While he greatly respects and admires MSBY Black Jackals’ own team manager, there was just something in (Y/N)’s work ethic that he was so used to and found great comfort in. After all, she’s been a key integral part to his volleyball career spanning all the way since they first met, when she commented on his hunger as an astute observation to his name, has been there with him all this time. Or it might as well have to do with his familiarity with her.

“Well, she was greatly endorsed by the coach and Murase-san,” Suna comments, pride in his usually lackadaisical tone, an arm was wrapped around (Y/N)’s waist. “Of course, not to mention the fact that she used to the manager of one of the greatest high school volleyball team, and a powerhouse at that, too.”

Rolling her eyes, she playfully swats Suna’s face.

“It was by luck that I was accepted.”

“Probably helps that you also have a Psychology minor, too!”

“Lord knows we need psychological help, seeing as we have the ‘Generation of Monsters’ on our roster.” Ojiro mutters, already feeling the weight of the role assigned to him.

(Y/N) frowns slightly. “Seriously, who is coming up with these names?”

They laugh at that.

“Well, maybe now they’ll change your nickname to ‘Ryujin Nippon’s Guardian’!” Atsumu teases.

“I have a moniker already!?”

They laugh again, much to her chagrin.

You once asked me why I was scared around dogs and I told you of the time back in Miyagi, about the one dog I actually liked. My dad used to have this big dog. I think it was a bully, but I liked him very much and his name was Goji. His full name was Godzilla, but my sister complained how ugly it was hence, Goji. I loved that dog very much, would pet him every chance I got before and after school, would feed him when I had the chance.

But then, everything changed when I found out that Goji, sweet, wonderful, big boy, Goji, wasn’t even our dog to begin with.

My dad had put up a front that he was to keep Goji with us for a while, because Goji was actually his mistress’ dog.

I was so crushed when he told me. Mika never knew about this, though.

One day, I was out to feed Goji when he was seemed…off.

Turns out, he was actually quite rabid and my dad forgot to give him his shots.

But Goji seemed like someone had provoked him. And true enough, one of the neighbor kids were throwing rocks at him.

Angry, Goji barked and barked at the kids, who yelped and ran off upon realizing just how dangerous a big dog could be.

I, too, yelped. In fact, I was frozen in fear, for I had never heard this sweet, big boy bark so angrily in the months that I knew him.

He never stopped barking, even when I was there to give him food.

And since then, I stopped going to him.

Eventually, my dad had to give him back.

Mika cried. I cried.

But I never got angry Goji out of my head.

How a sweet face can twist and turn, how gentle marbles can be filled with so much anger and hatred.

Never realized how scary dogs could actually be.

And that was it.

Osamu had said something in the lines of ‘stupid buncha kids’. And you probably agreed with him then.

But I will never forget, that ever since I told you two of my fear of dogs, how you would always shield me from them, how you’d puff your chest as if to tell all the dogs that you were the alpha.

Funny as it was, you were so cool for it, Atsumu.

You were my hero.

Always have.

��- Excerpt from letter 4 out of 13

As much as it killed him to know that (Y/N) was with Suna, he knew he had no say in their relationship. What can he do, anyway? Nothing. All he can do is support them.

Through Suna’s socials, he can see how in love the two were, how Suna cherished every moment spent with her, how (Y/N) loved him back through her scarce posts in her own social media.

He hated to admit it, but he kept in touch with Suna’s activities in social media just to see how the two were, seeing (Y/N) in a bliss through his ex-teammate’s eyes.

Sometimes, he overworked himself during training just to keep his focus, to keep his mind off things. Volleyball was a wonderful distraction. Then came hang outs with his other teammates. He made sure to keep in touch with his Ma and Pa, Osamu, some of the Inarizaki friends he’s made, (Y/N). Then meddling with Sakusa’s lovelife, Osamu’s, Ginjima’s – wow, what a way to rub it in how single he was, universe!

On the days he, Bokkun, and Shoyo-kun (with the special participation of one equally nosy cousin all the way from Hiroshima) would butt into Sakusa’s love life was definitely one for the books, he’d say. For there was no greater joy in seeing this prickly, seaweed-haired, weasel tumble over someone. AND THEIR OWN MANAGER, TO BOOT!

Truly, it was a fun distraction.

As fun as it was though, distractions don’t really last long.

Still, life with MSBY Black Jackals was a lot of fun!

Not once has he ever doubted his chosen happiness, the one path he’s been set on since he witnessed how fun being a setter was. More than anything, this is what he wanted, this path was where he knew he’d be happiest.

It’s just that it gets a bit lonely on the way.

Sure, he tried a relationship here and there, but they never got to last for too long.

Because in all those relationships, something just felt missing, making said relationship half-assed. He couldn’t blame the girls, because it was on him.

Honestly, it sucked that he could date as much girls as he wants and yet feel that emptiness within him.

One night, just days after his last breakup, his phone rang.

He didn’t bother to pick up, just letting the ring resound in his room.

He thought that would be it, but then his phone rang again. And again. And again. And again.

Six times.

It was probably Osamu, he thought.

Lazily, he reached for his phone, sliding his thumb across the screen without looking and instinctively pressed to loudspeaker.

“Atsumu?”

Of course, he knew what was missing in all those failed relationships.

They weren’t her.

“…hey, (Y/N),” he sounded so lame.

There will always be that missing piece, one he’ll be desperately trying to find long after he’s broken the heart of his first love.

Until he can find his one true pair, Atsumu can only settle for what he can get – anything as close as the feelings he’s had with her.

There was really no other woman like (Y/N) in the world.

Even though they were miles away, she always could sense if something was up with him, always made sure to text, call, or lend her time. Even when she was dating Suna!

Suna was really lucky to have her.

But then, something happened.

For some reason, when Atsumu woke up today, something in his gut told him something was up. Breakfast tasted great as always, his morning jogs had him pumping while the latest top hit played on his earphones, on the way to work, he even met up with his manager – WITH SAKUSA ON THE PASSENGER SEAT! and had a grand time teasing the heck outta him until they reached the gym. Despite all this, in the next few hours during training, the feeling he felt that morning gnawed at him hard. It kept at him all day.

Alarms were sounding off in his head, but he didn’t know what it was about.

It wasn’t until he called up Osamu, and as though the theories about twin telepathies were true. And true enough, something was wrong.

Without hesitation, Atsumu took off and took the first train to Hiroshima, filled with absolute worry for (Y/N), sending her text after text. With no reply, he felt his anxiety spike up, wishing the train to go faster. Granting, the train ride from Higashiosaka to Hiroshima took all of two hours and thirty minutes felt like a lifetime. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, the six-foot-something athlete practically dashed out the train once the doors opened, pulling his phone out to read out the address Komori sent him.

Lungs burning from the run, he finally reached their apartment building when he saw Suna.

At the sight of him, his blood boiled, something in him snapped – Atsumu saw red.

“SUNA, YOU SON OF A BITCH!” he yelled, his fist slamming against Suna’s jaw. Suna stumbles back a few paces.

“ATSUMU!” (Y/N) screamed.

Staggering, the taller man lifted his arm, keeping (Y/N) back.

“HOW DARE YOU!”

“Atsumu-“ Suna tried, only to be shoved back harshly.

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TAKE CARE OF HER!”

“Atsu-“ “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE BETTER THAN I WAS!”

Suna kept his head low, taking in Atsumu’s words, letting him grab him by the collar.

“YOU DARE MAKE HER CRY?” he seethes into his face, glaring hotly at him. “YOU FUCKING DID THAT, HUH, SUNA!?”

With Suna’s head still down low, unresponsive to his words, it boiled Atsumu’s blood even more. Pulling his hand back, Atsumu was just about ready for another punch when a sob broke sounded off, stopping him cold.

“Atsumu, please…!” turning his head, he was met with a heartbreaking sight, a sight he never wanted to see after middle school. (Y/N) with her already swollen eyes, tears spilling uncontrollably. “P-Please, stop.” Her voice was barely a whisper, watery, begging.

How the sight made him weak, his grip on Suna slacking, taking a step back. Not a second later, (Y/N) rushes up to Suna, (e/c) eyes searching all over him worriedly. Suna, on the other hand, quietly soaks up her worry, leaning his face against her touch. An intimate moment Atsumu felt like he was horribly intruding.

“(Y/N)-chan?” a middle-aged man approached, concerned at the group. “I-Is everything alright? What’s happening?”

It was pretty dark out, just a few people lingered around the area. Still, they created quite a scene.

Hiccupping, (Y/N) wiped her eyes. “Y-Yachan,” composing herself, she shook her head. “T-Thank you for your concern but please don’t worry, this is just a misunderstanding.”

Despite her tone, the older man nodded, staring back at the group – particularly at Atsumu, in worry. “Are you sure, dear?”

She nodded, lips pressing firmly against each other, struggling to swallow down a sob lest she breaks down again.

Silently, the three of them made their way into the building, Atsumu still fuming mad, Suna unable to raise his head in shame with his hand wrapped tightly around (Y/N)’s, who was struggling to keep herself from crying again.

Upon reaching their home, (Y/N) quietly takes out her keys, shakily slots in it, and they walk in.

Atsumu, unable to keep his angered gaze on Suna, pride swelling at the sight of his bruised cheek. His knuckles hurt, itching only to punch Suna in the face had he not remembered (Y/N).

(Y/N), whom he hasn’t seen crying since graduation.

(Y/N), the most fragile person he wanted to protect even from miles away.

(Y/N), who was crying and pouring her heart out for Suna.

Somehow, that knowledge hurt him – continues to hurt him.

(Y/N), who talks to Suna in a hushed whisper, about something he didn’t catch, before Suna nods, pressing their foreheads together, presses a quick kiss on her lips, before disappearing into one of the rooms.

Now alone, with Atsumu at the entryway, (Y/N) keeps her arms around herself, slowly looking over her shoulder to meet his gaze. “C-Come in…”

And he does, slipping on some guest slippers he found.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asks, mostly out of courtesy. “Water? Tea?”

Seeing as she was now, evident by her shaky voice, he knew she was in no state to heat up a kettle for herself.

“(Y/N),” he starts. She doesn’t say anything, her hands had gone limp around her.

“(Y/N),” he tries again, taking a step.

“You didn’t have to hurt him, Atsumu…” her voice was weak, wet, and warbled. “He was already hurting…”

“But he hurt you, too.” He argues, frowning.

“I know,” she nods weakly, falling quiet for a while. “…but we’re working on it, as all relationships do.”

Just the sight of her looking as though she could break any second was torture. She looks so small in this light, as though she were ready to collapse any time. And yet, at the same time, she seems so steadfast, so determined.

Making his way towards her, his honey brown eyes searching, finding, meeting her wet (e/c) eyes.

For as long as he can remember, her eyes were always either carefully blank, guarded – being the most emotionally stunted and guarded person he’s ever known his whole life. When it came to matters of the heart, that was the only time her eyes reflected her emotions tenfold. It’s why he was so shocked at her outburst during the incident, why he never forgot how distraught she looked back in middle school (it being the very first time since he knew her that he ever saw her cry).

Or how she looks like she’s still willing to fight on despite everything, how her (e/c) eyes still burn with determination to fix things.

Crying just never seemed to suit her.

However, humans were capable of crying if it were caused by extreme emotions – such as anger, sadness, grief, and even…

“You really love him, huh?”

Biting her lip, she nods again. A whimper trapped in her throat.

Love.

Atsumu feels something inside him crumble. What can he do with that, now?

Simple.

Without a word, he takes her in his arms, like all those years ago.

For someone so small, she sure was capable of holding so much love and hurt. It never ceases to amaze him how wonderful it feels to have her in his arms, how painful it was to know that she was hurting. Yet, he pushed all those aside in favor of just wanting to wash her pain.

“I’m not sorry I punched him, (Y/N).” he whispers, rubbing comforting circles on her back, uncaring that his shirt was starting to get wet. “Osamu and I did promise that we’d beat that fucker’s ass if he ever dared to make you cry.”

He could have sworn she laughed a bit, he couldn’t tell, but it was something in the least.

Just like this, he could close his eyes and pretend that everything was alright. That she was free from pain, that she wasn’t suffering. And selfishly? While in these few moments he could pretend that she was his, that these tears shed were all for him.

A shuffle cuts them of their moment, releasing (Y/N) as the two find Suna emerging from the toilet, with a first aid kit in hand. Unable to help himself, Atsumu feels his blood boil all over again, the bruise on Suna’s face doing very little to ease him.

Sensing his anger, he feels a squeeze on his forearm.

Ushering her boyfriend to sit down, she does the same to Atsumu. While she begins to clean up her boyfriend’s face, they began talking.

Suna starts off then confesses to everything – his deepest insecurities, with the fact that he could never compete with Atsumu, how it got so bad and deep that it blinded him, drove him nearly to madness and lead to where they were now.

The revelation was much as a shock to Atsumu more than anything.

When Suna was done speaking it was the same time (Y/N) was done patching him up, immediately his hands reached for (Y/N)’s, threading their fingers together. (Y/N)’s expression very nearly crumpled, leaning her head against her boyfriend’s shoulder, to which Suna gently pressed a kiss on her crown.

Honey-brown eyes landed on his ex-teammate’s frame, the tall, unassuming, nonchalant, deadpan, quiet, and sarcastic man before him, feared and hated for his extremely sharp game sense, his unique spikes, and his ability to manipulate blockers, seemed so…vulnerable, hollow, a shell of his own being.

For some reason, it felt like he was staring at someone similar.

Just then, he feels his phone ringing. Picking up, he unlocks it without looking, only to hear Osamu’s voice: “Put me on speaker. I need to talk to this asshole.”

And that’s how the rest of the night goes: the twins confronting Suna, with (Y/N) listening in. Suna, having to confess again everything.

In the end, all was forgiven.

Not that easily, but it was a start with Atsumu punching Suna and Osamu’s threats over the phone.

And because Atsumu came to Hiroshima on a whim, he slept in the guest room, needing to borrow Suna’s clothes for sleep much to his chagrin.

He couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t shake off all that’s happened today. He and Osamu exchanged a few texts, he also texted Coach Samson, his manager, and his captain about his sudden leave. Bokuto, Hinata, too, who had seen him rush out the gym.

Atsumu had a fitful night’s worth of sleep.

When he walked out of his borrowed room, he takes in Suna and (Y/N)’s shared apartment. Considering a professional athlete’s wage, it was no surprise that Suna would choose something so spacious. For the most part, the whole place was cleaner than he expected, maximized a lot of space, and had a dose of Suna’s love for video games, shows, and movies with the occasional posters here and there. With (Y/N) around, he figured that she might’ve contributed to the organization in a sense.

With all the excitement from last night, he didn’t bother or hadn’t really taken a proper look at the place.  His eyes roamed around from the half-drawn curtains from their balcony window, simple yet modern pieces of furniture, some photos displayed on the shelves, Atsumu was awed by it all before he was greeted by the sight of pillows and blankets on the sofa from the reflection of their large screen television.

Hearing movement, Atsumu followed the sound to find Suna Rintarou rummaging through the cupboards in the kitchen. It was a sight to behold alright, then again, he didn’t really know much about the guy after high school. After finding out that he’s been dating (Y/N), everything just blanked out.

“Oh, um…hey,” came Suna’s greeting, bags underneath his bloodshot eyes, his hair was unkempt.

The shiner was in its full glory, a reminder of last night.

Nodding in return, Atsumu pockets his hand, eyeing the set up in the living room. “You slept here?”

Suna was quiet for a while, giving him a blank stare, then at the ingredients he laid out on the counter. Eventually, he hums in response. “After what happened,” his one hand balls into fists against the counter. “after I nearly broke up with (Y/N), I couldn’t…I can’t be by her side…”

Suna’s said as much as he can from last night, how he had spiraled so much that it lead to him wanting to break up with one of the best women he’s ever known. Still, Atsumu couldn’t help the anger broiling inside him.

“Is she still asleep?” Atsumu asks in one exhale, eyeing one of the doors, wondering which one was hers. Or theirs.

“Yeah. I…” Atsumu turns back to him. “I checked up on her earlier. She’s sleeping like a log,” the two smile at that, knowing how much of a heavy sleeper she was.

Atsumu decides to walk to the kitchen – even their kitchen looked great, wow – seeing the ingredients and utensils all set up. Suna still doesn’t look up.

Behind Suna was a rice cooker and a coffeemaker, and for some reason it makes him think of his brother.

“Where do you stock the rice?”

Suna looks up, assessing him for a while, before wordlessly pointing to the lower cabinets. “First one to your right.”

“Does (Y/N) still take her coffee in the morning?”

“Um, yeah. Coffee’s just on the cupboard to your left.”

And like that, the two silently work on breakfast. Little was said to each other as they moved around, the sounds of utensils echoing throughout their kitchen.

Through the kitchen window, a gentle breeze whisked by as though in greeting, bringing with it the warmth and promise of a new day.

Slowly, the kitchen began to fill with rich aroma, greeting back to the two men.

While Atsumu sets the table, Suna carefully transfers the food to the waiting plates, carefully walking towards the dining area.

Breakfast was set. Back in the kitchen, the coffee machine beeped. The pan that Suna had used was sizzling softly. Both men were silent, looking at the readily-made food, the set table, the dining table – anywhere but themselves.

Silence thickening.

“I know you’re still in love with her.” Suna finally says without looking, hands planted on the chair he was leaning on, large hands swallowing the chair’s edges. “But I’m her end game now.”

Atsumu scoffed at that, side-eyeing him. “So what’re you asking for? My blessing?”

Suna turned to him and just stared, jaw set. “…perhaps. Even though you’re still an obnoxious fake blond bitch,” for a second, his lips quirk, eyes softening “you’re (Y/N)’s best friend.”

Best friend. Atsumu doesn’t know how to respond to that, really. However, he settles for a nod. The ‘best friend’ part stinging slightly because he knows that it’s better suited for Osamu. Despite them making up on her 19th birthday, the title on him felt so undeserving.

(L/N) (Y/N) was his best friend alright, could have been more if he was smarter, yet she was the one person who had a hold of his heart long before he knew it. She, who had the biggest, kindness, and gentlest heart of everyone he’s ever known.

Meeting his ex-teammate in the eye, he says. “SunaRin, take care of her for me, alright?” the shiner from last night molts the underside of his eye, his pride swelling a bit. “Take care of her heart.”

Take care of her heart for me.

The smell of breakfast was making their stomachs growl, their mouth to water. So just when the two ex-teammates were about to check on (Y/N) a door opened. Still in her nightwear, with her hair was lightly brushed, she paused when the door was fully open, staring at the two men, who were staring back at her.

Sniffing, her eyes then fell at the food set on the table. Ever so slowly, the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile.

“Shall we eat?”

And the three ate breakfast, quietly. Any attempt at conversation felt awkward – especially for the two men, but for (Y/N)’s sake, they at least had to try to appease and quell her anxiety. Especially noting the dark circles under her eyes.

After breakfast, Atsumu’s phone began to sound off and he rushed out to answer it. It was his manager, asking him where he was, what was he doing, and if he was coming back to Hoshiosaka anytime soon. Truly, he did not think things through.

Assuring his manager that he was fine, and that he had to attend an emergency, and “no, I don’t need to take a leave, I’ll be taking the first train back now”, he released a sigh afterwards. (Y/N) had mentioned over breakfast that his clothes were probably all dried up now. With that, Atsumu can just change and quickly get out of their hair.

Walking out of the room, Atsumu noticed that the apartment was relatively quiet. Taking a few steps, he craned his head searching was about to call out for Suna or (Y/N) only to stop.

He didn’t mean to intrude, but what was in front of him made him stop.

Suna was holding (Y/N), nose burying on the crook of her neck, shoulders lax, while her fingers run through his hair. An intimate moment he felt like he was intruding.

Even from where he stood, he could hear Suna whispering apologies over and over, pouring and baring himself to her.

All (Y/N) could do was anchor him, maybe them both, fingers massaging the ends of his hair, holding close, holding tight. Quietly nodding at his words, lovingly caressing him, whispering back to him with as much love and reverence Suna threw at her.

Atsumu felt his heart ache.

If only he wasn’t such a prideful brat, if only he could have seen what he had, if only he was a better person.

But there was no point wallowing in ‘if only’s especially when it’s long past, most especially when he’s the one who made his very reality. He can blame the younger him all he wants, but at the end of the day, that person was still him.

If only…then he could’ve had what they have, could have (Y/N) in his life.

As (Y/N) pulled back, gently taking Suna’s face in her hands, (e/c) searching, waiting, before he raised his gaze to meet hers. No words were exchanged between them. But a person’s eyes can hold so any emotions, can tell a lifetime of stories with how deep and luminous they were.

They couldn’t take their eyes off each other – (Y/N) offered him a reassuring smile, Suna tentatively smoothed her hair, cupping her cheek afterwards, all while watching her as though she were the most precious thing in the world.

Really, it was too much for him.

Atsumu looked away just as the two shared a kiss.

Then again, he’s stuck with ‘if only’s.

I just know that no matter how hard I try, how many wishes I make, how many times I’ve thought about it, I’ll just never be her. I’ll never fill that spot in his heart specifically for her. There’s no place for me for me in your heart, Atsumu.

- Excerpt from (Y/N)’s letter, 8 out of 13

Atsumu tries to not let it get to him, he really does.

But life just never turns out or goes however you want now does it? Because it’s been years and his heart still yearns for that one inevitable, his one constant. Not that he’s complaining about his status – a pro V-league athlete, one of the country’s most promising players, and most eligible bachelors, he is very much satisfied with where he is.

But is he really?

Atsumu was the type of person who’ll never be satisfied, someone with a terrifying hunger for more. It was in his name after all ‘to devour’, and boy did he crave for it all – cheers, jeers, the thrill of the game. A mad craving that was unsatiable, a hunger that made him all the more terrifying as one of the country’s most prolific athlete.

And yet, he couldn’t be fully satisfied.

Not really.

EJP Raijin was to play against MSBY Black Jackals for the semi-finals match.

The gym was pretty packed, crowds filling the stadium. From the corner of his eye, he could spot his brother’s stand accompanied by a small fidgety figure manning the cash register.

From across the court, he wills himself to be happy at the sight of (Y/N) and Suna. The middle blocker wore a soft smile on his face as he stared down at (Y/N), who returned the gesture with the same soft endearing look on her face.

Months have passed since what happened, and the two look more in love than ever.

“Hey Atsumu,” Suna greets.

“SunaRin,” he smiles, a smug grin on his face. “let’s have a good match, yeah?”

The middle blocker meets his smug grin head-on, slapping his hands into his into a handshake.

It was a close match.

Atsumu played like he always did, being the master of his tune whilst his teammates danced along. Suna doing the same, thwarting every chance he gets (managing to even get Atsumu riled up at one point).

But in the end, MSBY Black Jackals came out victorious, bagging their first win for the season.

Nothing will honestly be better than the taste of victory.

Ah, these were the moments one just had to live for.

Atsumu will honestly never get enough of living through the roars, the rush of high, of victory in his veins.

This was him in his happiest.

He lived for these moments.

Yeah, he tells himself.

Sure, victory was great and all.

But when the match was over, hands were shook, bows were made, it just took a glance at the other side of the court and see two familiar figures for him to feel…hollow.

Sure, he was on an all-time high from the win, heck, they even had some shenanigans during the interviews post-match. But at the end of the day, it still gets a bit lonely at times.

All alone in the locker room, Atsumu hunched over, elbows on his knees.

Even he can’t deny himself that.

“A-Achumu…?” came a small voice.

Atsumu barely realizes the loneliness nor the fact that everyone left him alone. Looking up, he couldn’t help the smile forming on his face when he met big orbs of adorableness, peeking from the doorway. With the door half open, he could hear Bokuto’s voice in the hallway, probably off somewhere chatting, with Adriah’s laughter resounding after.

“Heya Hare-chan,” despite the feeling of loss (for someone who won), he wears a smile if for the little girl’s sake. “what’cha doing here? Where’s your mum?”

Blinking, she fiddles her hands. “Ta-Ta…” she frowns slightly at her words. “Ta-Talk” Atsumu nods encouragingly “…Chu- Shu! Shuugo-chan.” God, she was so adorable.

“I see.”

Those big eyes never leave his face. “A-Achumu o-okay?”

Not one to lie, especially with those eyes on her, he shrugs. “Not really, Hare-chan.”

“…w-why?” she tilts her head, prolonging on the last syllable.

Humming, Atsumu fixes himself, still hunched over his shoulders.

In his head, he apologizes to his teammates, Coach Samson, his manager, everyone. Not that he hates victory – heck, he lives and thrives for the thrill of achieving it! It’s just that, it’s EJP Raijin. And with EJP Raijin-

Quirking his lips upward, he hopes the little girl could believe him.

Kids were far too innocent for their own good, too pure. It wasn’t right to dump all his complicated feelings on someone as precious as her.

She blinks, those adorable eyes taking him in.

“Achumu?”

“Yeah?”

Fiddling with her shirt, she bashfully tells him. “Hare wuvwuv you…”

Ah, kids were adorable.

Aside from getting a chance to play the sport he loves, to play with incredible high-caliber teammates, he was infinity lucky to call them all family. Especially this one precious girl.

Taking the little girl in his arms, he squeezes her tight. “Yeah, I wuvwuv you, too, Hare-chan.”

I’ve had this thought for a while: do you know how funny the concept of love is? How it’s finite and infinite at the same time.

Of all the things science can’t explain, love is pretty high on that list.

Try as they might, but can science really explain a feeling, a phenomenon that extends and transcends throughout time? That can cause the worst heart ache known to man?

It’s amazing how a single person is capable of love.

How one’s love can be infinite and finite at the same time.

One has to wonder just how much some people are capable of love, how much they’re willing to offer, how much they’re willing to receive.

And you know the funny part?

Love can take just as much as it receives.

And yet, the heart can still manage either way.

- (Y/N)’s letter, 11 out of 13

Together, the twins walked towards a white wooden door they were directed to. Osamu knocked first, then gently turned the doorknob before entering.

“You wanted to see us?”

As one, their breath hitched at the sight of her, sitting in front of a vanity mirror dresser, dressed in white, face bright with her features highlighted by makeup, her hair styled elegantly with a few flowers adorning her (h/c) hair – was their (Y/N).

“Wow, (Y/N),” Atsumu spoke first. “you look,” suddenly, he felt his eyes water, his lower lip trembling. “S-Sorry, I-“

Beside him, Osamu rolled his eyes. Atsumu was always more emotional than his brother, who was seconds away from tearing up himself.

She laughed, standing up to meet them both.

Hands reaching out, the twins instantly took hold of her hand in one of their own.

“You look beautiful,” Atsumu says, swallowing down hard.

Quirking his lips, Osamu nodded. “You really do, (Y/N).”

“Thank you,” she laughs again, breathlessly, eyes crinkling, exposing the dents of her cheeks.

This was finally happening, their (Y/N) was to be wed!

Just a few weeks ago, they were at the Olympics – where Japan just barely made it through semi-finals, placing just fourth place, and here they are now!

“Crazy how time flies, yeah?” Osamu comments, never letting go of her hand.

“I was just thinking that, ‘Samu.” Atsumu seconds.

Nodding, the blushing bride says, “Me, three.”

Their large, calloused hand against her small ones, it was such a sight to behold.

“Just yesterday I was alone in the womb- OW!” Osamu yelps as Atsumu stomps on his foot, hard.

“OF ALL THINGS YOU COULD THINK OF!? WAY TO RUIN THE MOOD, SHITTY ‘SAMU!”

“LIFE PROBABLY WOULD’VE BEEN BETTER IF I ATE YOU IN THE WOMB!”

“HAH!? AND LET YOU LIVE A BORING LIFE? PLEASE!”

“AT LEAST IT’D BE QUIET!”

“SHUT UP, YOU UGLY SLUT!”

“BITCH, WE HAVE THE SAME FACE!”

Before another insult could be hurled, the twins yelped in pain as the bride-to-be crushed their hand in hers, a cool, calm, patient smile on her face.

“Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu,” she sighs, finally letting go, the two sighing in relief, taking their hands away to nurse or stretch it out. “Even all these years, you two never fail to bicker about, huh?”

Together, the two share a pained laugh, shaking their hands.

“Eh, you love us anyway, (Y/N)!”

“Plus, your life wouldn’t be the same without us!”

Rolling her eyes, she couldn’t help the smile making its way back to her face. “Well, someone had to keep you two, in check.”

Exchanging looks, the twins then reach out to take her hand again in theirs, squeezing gently. (Y/N) stares at them, her expression softening.

Seeing her in all white was like seeing her fresh off a fantasy, more so that she was getting married during fall in a church by the forest on a beautiful sunny day. What a picture-perfect marriage.

“Have Auntie and Uncle dropped by?” asked Osamu.

She nods. “They did, together with Mika, Reiki, and little Katsuo.”

“Wow, almost forgot that Mika-nee’s carrying baby number two.”

“So,” Osamu drags a bit before asking, rather cheekily. “were there tears?”

(Y/N) frees her hand from his hold to playfully smack him.

“Oi! Can’t blame me! Auntie and Uncle are quite the emotional pair of siblings!”

Memories of the three walking into her mom and uncle crying over a Japanese-dubbed Korean drama, or J-Drama come to mind. There were even stories (Y/N) shared of her mother and uncle crying over some emotional commercial, together with Mika. She had to explain to her very confused brother why they were crying so much.

“Wait a minute, where’s brother boy?” Atsumu wonders aloud, the familiar nickname makes (Y/N) smile.

Tipping her head a bit, it gestures out the window. “He went to answer a call from his girlfriend.”

At that, the twins paused. Exchanging glances before meeting their best friend’s knowing expression, almost in anticipation.

“Wait-“

“Is he still dating that girl from last time?”

“But I thought they broke up?”

(Y/N) shrugs a shoulder. “I have honestly no idea anymore. I mean, I should be concerned, but it’s my little brother’s relationship and I don’t want to intrude unless he asks me or something.”

“He’s grown up, that one.”

A single sentence, pertaining to a singular person, suddenly held so much weight for everyone in the room.

The silence that brewed in, thickened. Thickened with realizations, of happy memories, of nostalgia, all of which have stretched on into eternities enough to fortify and strengthen the bond for the three people in the room.

“Well,” Atsumu was first to break the silence, letting out a deep, heavy breath. “this is it, huh, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah,” she says breathlessly, nodding.

Running his thumbs over her skin, Atsumu couldn’t take his eyes off her, hadn’t been able to since he first stepped into the room. Something lodged into his throat when their eyes met, his chest felt the beating of his heart. “Yeah, you’re finally getting married.”

She was glowing, it hurt to look at someone so bright and beautiful like this.

“You’re not getting cold feet, aren’t ya?”

Shaking her head, a faraway look painted on her face. “No, it’s just that…I can’t believe this is happening.” Laughing nervously, her hold on them loosened a bit. “Who could’ve thought I’d be here?”

“Of course, you’d be here.” Osamu, ever the best friend, was quick to quell her insecurities. “And it’s happening right now, (Y/N). No use fussing otherwise.”

Nodding after his brother’s words, Atsumu squeezes her hand tight, wanting just as much to quell away all negativity on her special day. “What ‘Samu says, (Y/N). There’s no way you would not be here right now. There’s no way you, who deserves all the love in this damn universe, shouldn’t be blessed with this much joy and happiness.”

Her smile was a little brighter, if that were even possible, her light shining brighter than before.

Exchanging glances with each other, the twins slowly bent over to affectionately peck their best friend on her head.

“I’m so happy to share this amazing moment of my life with two of my best friends.”

Just then, the doors open, revealing her youngest brother, Kaoru, who was all grown up. He looked just like Mika and (Y/N), with features that of their father’s. Personally, Atsumu feels like he takes his features from (Y/N), his extroverted personality were from Mika.

At the sight of his sister, the young man’s mouth opens slightly, tears quickly welling up his eyes. The sight causes the three coo at him in unison.

“Aww, brother boy!” Atsumu cries, feeling himself tear up as well.

“Now, now,” Osamu wraps an arm around his shoulders, leading him to his older sister.

“S-S-Sorry…” says Kaoru, wiping tears away.

“No need to cry, Kaoru.” (Y/N) smiles at him, the same smile she’s always worn for him. “But I have to say, you’re really like mom and uncle, both of them cried at the sight of me, too. Mika, even.”

“Aha! So there were tears!” As he said that, Osamu wasn’t quick enough to dodge a smack on the shoulder. The four of them laugh.

Finally calm, Kaoru exhales, nods at his sister. “Nee-san, it’s time.”

Nodding, she straightens, then turns to the twins, smile ever in place. “Well, this is it guys.”

The four then exit the lounge, down into a hall where her bridal entourage awaits her.

One of her bridesmaids, Airi, Suna’s little sister, excitedly hands her bouquet, then she gets in line with the rest of the bridesmaids. Atsumu and Osamu were then gestured by the wedding organizer of their places.

Wrapping her arm around her brother’s, she meets the eyes of her dear best friends.

“See you guys out there.”

As much as she wanted her uncle to walk her down the aisle so bad, unfortunately, tragedy struck years back that caused him to lose his ability to walk and that put him on a wheelchair. It pained (Y/N) when it happened, especially since she loved the man as though he was her own father.

In his place of her beloved uncle though, was Kaoru, who was more than happy and willing to walk his big sister down the aisle. However, he laid out a condition. As he compelled to have the twins walk her, too! Seeing as they were also a part of his big sister’s life.

Uncle was more than happy to allow this, as did the blushing bride.

Halfway through the aisle, the twins stood in waiting, at their beautiful (Y/N), wearing the most beautiful smile all day.

As Kaoru handed his big sister, he couldn’t help but shed a few tears.

(Y/N), ever the sister, gently wiped away his tears. ‘Awws’ could be heard from the crowd.

Before he could hand her over though, Kaoru reached over to peck his big sister’s forehead, mirroring her smile on his own.

And now, it was them three now.

(Somewhere in the crowd, Ojiro couldn’t help the tears streaming down his face as he watches the scene unfold, tears streaming even harded when it was the twins and her now.)

Three for threes.

It’s always been the three of them – Atsumu, Osamu, and (Y/N).

With the Miya twins, being two parts of one whole chaotic mess, who knew that it just needed the arrival of one (Y/N) to keep the world in balance, to keep the twins sane, afloat, grounded.

With every step, Atsumu could just paint out the parts of his life when it was just the three of them.

Three for threes.

One step for the shared glory.

Two steps for every little fights, easily resolved by cold logic told matter-factually.

Three steps forward for the future awaiting them.

Good things come in threes, he was once told.

Sometimes it’s funny how much Atsumu held on to them threes that it blinded him to the reality that the threes would slowly break off and go their separate paths.

It was probably a notion he never wanted to entertain.

A part of him that was scared to grow up and face the music alone.

Glancing to his side, his eyes were blessed with the most beautiful bride he’s come to know, to her other side, was the best brother anyone could ask for.

He can never ask for a better twos to create their threes.

Good things come in threes after all.

And that they will be, always be.

Even if they have to veer off their separate paths.

But even if they’ve headed off, deep down, they knew that the number three will never be the same again. Threes shall forever be embedded with memories, memories they will hold on forever, never let go in their hearts.

There are so many things he regrets, regrets that would soon pile to haunt him in the future. But even like this though, she remains his beloved.

Once more, Atsumu’s eyes fall to his beloved – (Y/N), the most beautiful bride this world came ever seen. Her (e/c) were set forward, towards the man waiting for her, who held her heart just as she held his.

It hurts.

It really fucking hurt so much.

Because he loves her, he’ll always love her.

But that was it: he loves her, she loves him, but she loves someone else much more.

So, even if he’s on the verge of breaking down right now, he will bear them. As the person who broke her heart, it was only karmic happenstance that it should come to this. Submerged into the ache he’s held for so long, only to somehow feel like the surface coming up.

As the light falls down on her beautiful features, his mind flies to meeting her for the first time.

Slowly, the pain disappears.

Slowly, his heart settles.

Slowly, they reach the end of the aisle, to where the twins hand over to her husband-to-be.

Truly, one cannot mistake the love the two shared when they finally met for what seems like a lifetime in a span of minutes.

The sight alone should hurt him, kill him, but Atsumu just smiled, making his way to the groom’s side, joining the other groomsmen.

Maybe not now, maybe not today, maybe not ever will he ever heal from this.

For just seeing that smile on her beautiful face – how illuminating it was all day, for some reason, he felt as though it were embracing him. And he allowed himself to relish in it.

Even if nothing was said, nothing was revealed, he understood.

Confession: sometimes, when it’s 11:11, if I see a shooting star, I make a wish that you’d somehow come to like me. Embarrassing, right? But I held on to it each and every time. You can’t exactly blame me and my little hopes.

- Excerpt from (Y/N)’s letter, 3 out of 13

Seeing the large bump on (Y/N) felt surreal, unreal. There was tiny life in there, a tiny person created by two people. And months from now, a baby will come out.

Atsumu couldn’t stop himself from smiling, looking at (Y/N)’s belly, her hands rubbing all over it.

“You’re gonna be a momma, (Y/N).”

Returning his smile – soft and full of bliss, she replies. “It feels so unreal, to be honest.”

His smile could probably split his face in half, but he honestly just couldn’t stop.

Months of her pregnancy has everyone within their social circle in a mix of both panic, worry, and stress, especially considering how much of a workaholic she was in a high-energy industry like sports.

“Actually, Atsumu, do you want to be the godfather?”

His eyes widen. “M-Me?”

“Yeah, you, asshole.”

(Y/N) playfully smacked her husband’s arm, the light catching the glint on her finger.

“Technically, you and Osamu were my first and only choice.”

“My?” Atsumu repeats.

Suna’s expression remains unchanged, but the corner of his lips twitch for a second as he shrugs nonchalantly. “Whatever the wife says goes.”

“I haven’t told Osamu yet, due to the time difference seeing as he and his beau are vacationing in Denmark.” Her response alone gave him a sense of pride, a natural reaction, he supposes, for one upping his twin at something. She must’ve known, because she was laughing lightly at the look on his face.

“So? What do you say, Atsumu?”

There was so much hope and anticipation in her tone, shining over the overwhelming joy blossoming her features. Who was he to deny her? Especially when she looks like this?

“I would be honored, (Y/N), SunaRin.”

You’re probably one of the best parts of my move to Hyougo.

It’s a pretty new place sandwiched between land and sea, filled with strange new faces who speak in equally strange tongues than the ones I’m used to back in Miyagi.

I would say both you and Osamu were the best parts of my move, quickly befriending me out of probably due diligence as we’re neighbors. But I will never forget how you immediately called out to me after my one comment about your competitiveness.

Honestly, I’m so happy to be in a place I can now call home. A place that’s brighter, happier for not only me, but for everyone in my family.

Thank you for being one of the best and my favorite parts of Kobe, Hyougo.

- (Y/N)’s letter, excerpt from letter 12

Seven days after she gave birth, an Oshichiya was held.

It was a simple dinner, filled with family and select friends, who managed and willingly travelled all the way to Hiroshima just to meet the newborn child.

As per tradition, the father was to write down their child’s name. A tradition, that made Suna nervous, because he had sloppy handwriting, and didn’t want to embarrass his newborn baby and wife. (Also, his wife was the one who did Shodo, why the heck was this on him!?)

Fortunately, he managed, and the whole world was told of their daughter’s name.

“Shio.”

“Like salt?” he asks, fixing her a confused look.

(Y/N) laughs, quickly turning to him. “No, dummy! Here let me write it down so I can explain,” Out of nowhere, she flourishes a pen – always never one without it, then searches for something to write on.

Laughing, Atsumu offers his hand.

Mirroring his laugh, seeing as there was no other option, she inches closer, closing the distance between them, taking his large hand in hers.

Even after all this time, his breath still hitches slightly at the feel of her soft hands on his, especially at her thumb smoothing over his palm. Seeing the peaceful look on her face as she wrote clearly shows that her days in shodo have paid off, especially with the smooth and careful way she wrote out her daughter’s name. Even when she was just using a pen, he noticed the few gentle strokes here and there with intricate grooves. Not a single wasted stroke on something as simple yet meaningful as a name.

Once she was done, Atsumu took his gaze off her to stare at the name written on his palm.

‘史桜’

“It’s spelled to read ‘history’ and ‘cherry blossoms.” (Y/N) explains.

He smiles at that, reading at his goddaughter’s name – at the characters in fine writing.

Just like her mother, she was spring born. Compared to her, however, she was born on the cusp of Spring and Summer.

How unfortunate, as Suna was a winter child, (Y/N) was a spring child, and their little one was born late spring summer. A perfect combination of the two.

In that moment, Atsumu had a sort of epiphany:

Of him being in Suna’s spot, of him with (Y/N) to have and to hold, most especially to love. Of him years back, waiting by the altar as Kaoru, him and Osamu walk her down the aisle, her uncle watching tearfully from his wheelchair next to her mom, Mika, and Reiki.

But with a shake of his head, the image is gone, replaced only with the reality he himself created.

No matter how much he wished for the hands of time to grant him a second chance, to go back and make his stupid, younger self realize, to reciprocate her wholeheartedly, readily, it was but wishful thinking.

Looking back to their wedding, feeling his beloved slowly part with him to join her soon-to-be husband, seeing her beautiful face light up, seeing the sparkle in her eyes – seeing her like he’s never seen her before, he just knows how much she loves him.

A love that could have been his, a love she set aside, a brand-new love that could never be his.

A love so raw, a love so pure, a love so incomparable, a love so deserving, a love he once had.

She loves him, so, so, so much.

And for Atsumu? Well, he understood that he’ll always be her best friend, one of the most important men of her life.

Still, lucky he.

Lucky he that he had blessed with her love.

Lucky him that he was fortunate enough to have his chance as her first love.

And that was that.

It was nice to live in the image of ‘what if’s, a plentitude of it. However, that was that – ‘an image’, ‘what if’.

And at the end of the day, there was only one thing that mattered to Miya Atsumu more than anything in the world, more than his life and volleyball.

For as long as he lives, he knows for a fact that she will never completely leave his mind, nor will she completely leave his heart.

She was his first love, after all.

To see his first love, his forever person, Suna (Y/N) happy?

That was all he could ask for.

“Would you like to hold her?”

“Yes, please.”

Not a moment later, he sees Suna walk over at his wife’s waving hand. In his arms was their quiet little girl – truly, a perfect combination of the two. As those (e/c) eyes fell on him, Atsumu felt his eyes get a little misty.

Ever so gently, Suna carefully hands his daughter to him, both he and (Y/N) instructing him about holding her head and back.

(E/c) blinked once, twice, thrice. Curiously taking him in, now that she was in Atsumu’s arms.

Unable to help himself, he feels himself laugh again, lifting his eyes to meet (Y/N)’s, who also shared in his joy, then to Suna’s, who merely smiled, wrapping his arms around his wife.

Pressing his lips against his goddaughter’s forehead, the sweetest little sound bubbled from her – his heart felt light.

“Heya, Shio-chan.”

I’ve got to get it in my head that we should never make wishes so big that they’ll surely amount for nothing but disappointments in the end. That the best thing we can do is settle for what we have and make the most out of it. As our school motto says - ‘We Don’t Need The Memories’.

It’s kind of harsh at first glance, but after our first Inter-High, talking with Kita-san, and the two coaches, it started to make sense.

That being said though, Atsumu, I will never hope for anything amounting to something more than what we have now. I know it’s all I can ever hope for in this lifetime. But just know, that with every moment passed is a moment I’ve held and cherished for as long as you’ll have me.

- Excerpt from letter 7 out of 13

“So, what’s next for Miya Atsumu?” the interviewer asked him, snapping him off his reverie.

Blinking, he met the expectant look of the interviewer before him, the camera was on him, lights were flashing on him bright and blinding.

Atsumu leaned back on his seat and let out a wistful sigh. What was next for him?

Years have passed and a lot has happened to him.

Well, first, there was his nephew, Hideaki – Osamu’s kid, first violin recital, then Shio’s graduation, followed by Sakusa’s big engagement which Atsumu himself planned out (much to the younger lad’s embarrassment), Meian-san’s wife’s second child popping up soon, Suna and (Y/N) were expecting a second child on the way, too, and the next league was starting months from now.

Atsumu was 29 now, he knew that he was destined for greatness, that he would always be hungry for said greatness that he’d have to achieve with his own hands, ready or not for whatever life throws at him.

Retirement was just shy a year waiting for him, but he scoffs for now, knowing he’d still kick it in the bud.

Just because he’s single now, doesn’t mean he will let him hold him back from achieving his own happiness.

Quirking on a smile, he meets the interviewer’s eyes and replies, “A lot.”

Dearest Miya Atsumu,

You are my greatest and first love.

Wow, what an opening, right?

But you at least deserve to know that. Well, I think you already knew that since the incident back in second year. Just know that I am forever regretful of what I failed to do, of manipulating you, and for just being an overall bad friend to you.

However, please know that it is without of great concern for your being. Scratch that, it’s me being manipulative again because of how much you meant to me.

I will always bear the burden of failing to protect your heart, a fragile thing for a time when we’re at our most vulnerable as teenagers.

I don’t think I can ever remember the very first time when I realized I loved you. It could be when we first met the morning I and my family arrived in Kobe, Hyogo, it could be the time you took me by the hand, Osamu trailing behind us, as you toured me around school, it could probably be the time you cowered under my gaze for the first time when I wasn’t amused by you and Osamu’s antics, maybe it was the time you bragged about the quick you and Osamu successfully pulled off, maybe it was the time you practically uprooted and stole a sunflower for me during our class trip – really, it could be any of those times. I don’t think I can ever properly pinpoint the exact moment, but I do know that I’ve been drawn to you since, captivated by your being, and instantly fell for you.

It is so easy to like you, Atsumu. You have your merits and demerits; each can outweigh the other. Loving you is a process, and I had to learn that the hard way.

I know you didn’t mean to hurt me that way, I can never ever find myself to blame you for damaging my self-esteem by using my faults and insecurities against me. But again, we were both at our most vulnerable: we were teenagers.

Forgiving you straightaway? That took me a while. And to be perfectly honest, I don’t think I could ever forgive you and decided myself to burn our bridges and quietly resign as manager. But apparently, life had different plans for me.

Realizing now, I find that it’s just funny how intense we could feel love and misinterpret it in ways we never thought of. The love I held for you was something on its own entirely. One I’ve held for so long, one I’ve hellbent on keeping a secret, one I’ve longed to offer up, and one I’ve find myself exhausted of keeping. I never thought it would come to this. It is so amazingly dumb how love is something finite and infinite at the same time, probably why scientists can never truly understand it and psychologists think of it as a sort of chemical.

I would like to think that I was the first to hold your heart, but I know that it’s not true. How can I be capable of owning something that was never mine to begin with?

No.

But I would like to think that I was the first person ever to love you so wholeheartedly, endearingly, selfishly and unselfishly.

Now, though? It’s gone now.

And I think it’s for the best.

However, just know, that I have never regretted loving you.

Loving you was a process – a long, hard, difficult process.

Unloving you seemed like a probability that should’ve been considered.

I could never unlove you, Atsumu, for you have been a part of me, my life, and my heart.

A part of me could never fully hate you, a part of me shall always love you. That’s all there is to it.

All the love I’ve had of you has been exhausted and it’s time I let my heart rest from years spending it on you.

I realize now that I was the one you needed, as a friend, but not the one you love.

(L/N) (Y/N)

- (Y/N)’s 13th last letter, hidden from the bottom of the letterbox, sent right after she left for Hiroshima

[witchy-jadda]

rott spoilers ahead

so i’ve given myself some time to think about everything and try to process it all and here are some of my thoughts on trollhunters: rise of the titans...

- straight off the bat, i loved the intro. opening with blinky telling the story of what happened up until this point was incredible. i would have loved if they had circled back to this though (i saw someone else say it should have been him telling the story to jim and claire’s kids and i loved that idea!)

- i also liked that they didn’t waste time at the start, instead they just jumped right into the action which was fun.

- honestly, i thought jim’s plotline throughout the movie where he basically thought he was useless without the amulet was just really not fun to watch. i understand why it was there and it played into the climax but i really did not find it one bit necessary seeing as i felt that we have grown beyond that. i felt it was overused. we’ve been there before and jim is aware that he’s the trollhunter, amulet or not.

- douxie being so soft with nari was genuinely one of the most heartwarming parts of the movie. i feel that we were really robbed of so much potential with douxie in this movie though. we didn’t see nearly enough of him. it seemed that the writers were picking and choosing when to remember how powerful he is. switching with nari and connecting to her are two examples of when they actually used his power, but aside from that they just disregarded it a lot.

- and speaking of forgetting how powerful people are... i’m genuinely so hurt and let down over what they did to claire. do they not realise how powerful she is? did they just forget about her character arc? it sure felt like it. she got to use her powers a few times (connecting to nari, portalling the titan, etc) but mostly it felt like she was saying she was spent and therefore unable to do anything. she is so strong and so powerful, and that’s just so empowering - especially for young girls. and then it kinda felt to me that rott was reducing her to basically nothing more than jim’s love interest.

- okay another quick note, it kinda felt to me that krel’s potential was also pretty wasted? he barely did anything and i just think he deserved more too.

- ew okay i don’t even want to think about it but i know i can’t discuss rott without talking about the mpreg thing. seriously, what the fuck was that? at first, i thought it was going to be a joke. i thought aja and krel were gonna wind steve up and see how far they could go with making him think he was pregnant just for a little bit of comic relief. but then he was actually pregnant. and so i laughed, because even though it was dumb it was kind of funny. weird and unexpected, but kind of funny. but by the time the movie was over it just didn’t sit right with me. looking past the fact that it was just more of them making steve’s character into a joke, i couldn’t see the logic in giving so much time to that subplot when other characters (claire, douxie) and other relationships (claire and douxie’s friendship) were sidelined. maybe if he had gotten a whole season the mpreg thing could have been included as comic relief or whatever, but with such limited time i really don’t see the point of wasting so much time on something so pointless. 

- speaking of steve, i need to talk about creepslayerz... they really deserved more :( like i get that eli literally helped steve through child birth and then named one after him which was lowkey adorable but i loved their friendship so much and i was really hoping to see more of them. i was kind of hoping they’d get to do more as well. look i gave up on hopes of a romance long ago (even though i still really wished it would happen) but i hoped that at least we’d see some more of their friendship.

* by this point my brain has decided to forget absolutely every point i wanted to make... cue the brain fog (we don’t like her) and allow me to take a moment to read back and try to find my point again *

- i don’t think i can stress enough how much i loved the visuals in this movie. holy fucking shit it was just phenomenal. like wow. the art was absolutely fantastic and i’m really hoping for another the art of... book because i love the art of trollhunters and i feel that they could do with updating it to include the newer stuff. but yep, the animation quality was incredible and i don’t have a bad thing to say about it because just wow.

- speaking of art... a moment of appreciation for character designs. just wow wow wow. we love to see such intricately designed villains. we love to see growth in our other much loved characters. and the locations too? fantastic. beautiful. amazing. loved it.

- another moment of appreciation for jim. the hair. the scars. the injuries. the winter jacket. the fact that he looked a little older.... loved it. loved it, loved it, loved it. i cannot wait to spend hours pouring over reference pictures to draw them all.

- and claire... her armor being weathered and worn. her eyes!! her hair looked great as always. i just love her...

- nari nari nari... my goodness, her magic is so beautiful. i wish we got to see more.

- also, the jlaire moments were very cute. their kisses? so soft. they literally love each other so much. i adore them.

- what happened to the babies from the darklands btw? is not enrique just chilling in the lake’s house with a ton of babies? 

- barbara deserved better. i would have liked to see her and strickler happy.

- on that note, why the actual fuck did they think a few explosives would win against magic?? literal ancient magic and these dumbasses were like huh i guess we should blow it up. i’m sorry, what?? y’all are stupid.

* currently trying to think of every possible point that isn’t to do with the ending because i really don’t want to think about that yet *

- the whole thing with archie and charlemagne felt super unnecessary. like usually characters sacrifice themselves and it’s like sad and you can see the reasoning and stuff. but they literally could have gotten out. i really did not vibe with that. it felt like they just did that to leave douxie with no one.

- that trollmarket was beautiful though.

- speaking of trollmarket... they really restored the heartstone just like that? are you joking? i was not impressed at all. the heartstone was dead and gone, could not be destroyed. did they just forget that? half the shit in wizards wouldn’t have happened if the heartstone could have been restored. very pissed off by that. it was dead, that was it.

- okay back to jim... love that he pulled the sword from the stone. it was cute that it was a group effort, kinda would have preferred if it was just him but that’s just a me thing. and maybe me and my daylight tattoo are biased here, but excalibur is not half as pretty as daylight.

- not gonna lie, jim yelling come on trollhunters! kinda got me. i was very emotional watching this.

- i think the most in character jim moment of the whole movie was when he dropped excalibur, he didn’t have his armor, he was all alone and he decided to make a fist and fight the wizard/god with literally no weapon or means of defence. i don’t think y’all understand how much i love this dumb self sacrificing selfless boy. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, he is literally one of my most favourite characters of all time. i love him with all my heart.

- the armor!! wow wow wow. that was a fucking cool scene. beautiful.

- jim getting stabbed or whatever with that fucking spear thing nearly killed me.

- okay here goes... toby. my sweet toby. jim and toby’s friendship is one of my absolute favourites ever. my goodness. and toby getting in the van and going to save jim was incredible and such a toby thing to do. of course he would think of doing that.

- but like seriously... claire and douxie are so fucking powerful and they were both just like lol i guess we can’t do anything to help jim? i’m sorry what?? don’t tell me that claire wouldn’t go full on black and purple eyes and get herself up their to him. i just... i’m so bothered by the fact that they were sidelined y’all :|

- also, do not seriously try to tell me that aaarrrgghh!!! would let toby go on his own. he would have went with him. he would have followed him.

- literally as jim was falling the first thing that went through my mind was oh aaarrrgghh!!! is gonna run up and catch him.

- and while we’re on the topic of aaarrrgghh!!! why tf did they have such a build up that something was going to happen to either him or blinky for literally no reason? wtf

- aaarrrgghh!!! would not have let toby go alone!!! if he had been there, he would have protected toby, he would have saved him and none of that mess of an ending would have happened.

* ugh here’s the bit i was dreading... the ending *

- first off, i am choosing to ignore it.

- time stone? really? we’re... we’re gonna do this? literally one of the most original things i have ever watched is now - at the literal last possible minute - rip off another movie?? really?? whyyyy???

- i literally cannot express how much i hated it. it was so fucking unnecessary.

- he didn’t need to go back that far!!!

- i’m actually trying to block this out but i suppose i have to at least touch on it. jim would never ever put that burden on to toby. he just wouldn’t. before even looking at all of the other issues with toby getting the amulet, i need to say that. it just wouldn’t happen. he struggled so much with being the trollhunter, he wouldn’t put that on toby. 

- also toby literally never wanted to be the trollhunter?? he never wanted the amulet? he wanted to be a duke and have his war hammer and go on adventures with his best friend and his wingman and eat mexican food.

- okay so um i guess they all just forgot about unbecoming? cool cool cool.

- seriously though, was it not established many times that jim literally had to be trollhunter? and if he wasn’t it would be draal and everything would go to shit? did they just forget about that??

- having jim just decide to give toby the amulet literally takes away from the entire meaning behind jim getting the amulet and becoming the trollhunter. the amulet chose jim. merlin chose him. out of all of the creatures in the world, it had to be jim. he can’t just give that to toby!!

- and as much as i love toby, he would not last a day as trollhunter.

- and that’s not even beginning to mention all that jim erased by not becoming trollhunter. no father son relationship between him and blinky. they didn’t stop steve from picking on eli so no steve redemption and no creepslayerz. is he just going to allow enrique to be taken? toby will not have the same incentive to go into the darklands to save him if that’s the case. strickler will not show any sort of sentiment towards toby either. and then the big one...

- IS THAT FUCKER REALLY GOING TO ALLOW CLAIRE TO NOT GET HER POWERS??? WHAT???

- if jim isn’t trollhunter and the whole thing with enrique doesn’t happen then claire will never get her shadowstaff. let’s be real, strickler probably wouldn’t even need angor rot with toby as trollhunter. somehow i can’t see him making it that far...

- if claire doesn’t have her shadow staff then the whole thing with morgana won’t happen. she won’t destroy the shadow staff and then she will never develop her powers. would jim really rob her of that?

- okay i can’t do anymore, it’s too much for me now...

- i touched on this already in a separate post but i gotta say it again... i did not enjoy the destiny is a gift bit at the end. first of all, jim having toby find the amulet literally takes the meaning of that speech and his destiny away instanty. and second, i just could not stand hearing emile hirsch say the words that belonged to anton yelchin. it was just uncomfortable.

aaand i think i’m done. maybe i’ll have more later but i have a headache now from all of this.

[leviiattacks]

heyyy there, saw your requests are open. and i'm wondering maybe you could do a timeskip where everything is done and levi finally opened his tea shop. then there he met reader, and he treats them differently from other customers. thank you, hope you're having a good day.

author note :: this was kinda rushed as is most of what i post. the reader is a writer just bc i thought it would be cute and also ISTG. i wrote this entire thing thinking leviolas was such a cool name for a tea shop then googled it and saw it’s also the name of a spider so... ++ btw i have not yet double checked or proofread this because i wrote it at 2am but yeah it’s definitely not great :-) word count :: 2.4k??? somehow???

you’re sweet like honey when you first order from leviolas. you’re the same when you ask the owner for extra napkins and you remain exactly the same when you return with the intention to stick around for a writing session with a black tea by your side

something about you is attractive. that’s what levi thinks of you when you first walk into leviolas

you’re just incredibly wholesome poking your head around looking at all of the handmade pastries and confectioneries in admiration

you think the homely decor is cute and reminiscent of cottages in the countryside, the view outside the windows is beautiful and the scent of coffee alongside tea is heavenly

the pastries are beautiful and you find yourself eyeing the macrons pretty frequently. just EVERYTHING about leviolas is cute :-(

but one particular thing is especially adorable to you

and that would be the owner

when you hear his name for the first time you’re a little shocked

levi ackerman to be specific captain levi ackerman, the high ranking official who aided in paradis’ independence and freed the nation from the grip of titans

you read about him a year back in a paper or two and vividly recall the valiant title he held as humanity’s strongest soldier

he still holds the title that’s for sure but now he happens to own a tea shop

it’s slightly unusual it’s not every day you see a soldier retire and live such a plain life but you suppose the simplicity makes levi happy

honestly, if you had been through hell and back like him you too would wish to spend the rest of your days in the company of tea leaves and sweet cakes

today is a day like any other you’re sat by one of the windows and contemplating sitting in the outside seating area

the sun is shining and lands uncomfortably on your face at this angle and you may as well make your way outside

but before you can a shadow looms over you and a broad chest leans over to cover the window with dainty curtains

“you looked bothered by the light.”

oh god.

it’s him.

he’s standing there looking at you with an unreadable expression and all you can do is open and close your mouth not knowing what to say

humanity’s strongest soldier

levi ackerman

also known as the really really really attractive cafe owner you’ve been crushing on for the last few months now

seeing him up close is much more different to looking at him from the comfort of your seat or whilst you order

he’s normally got his back turned whilst collecting orders or another worker collects them as he prepares the beverages

that’s why the unexpected interaction has you nervous

you can always tell when he’s made your drink because he honestly has a way with tea leaves and you kinda want to gush about how much you enjoy it

but, no, no, no.

you’re panicking just looking at him

soft black strands of hair stick to his forehead, his undercut is oddly satisfying to stare at and he smells of pine trees which again is refreshing

“ah hahaha thank you for blocking the sun out!!”

why the fuck did you ha ha????

this is so awkward.

putting on your best front you beam up at him hoping your toothy smile doesn’t look stupid

then again it probably does because who the hell has a good toothy smile

nobody.......

levi’s gaze lingers on you but if he has anything else he wants to say he doesn’t make it known

instead he firmly nods and turns away

you’ve messed up,,

only!!! you manage to mess up even more....?

without thinking your hand latches onto the back of his blue button up and your face burns up realizing what it is you’ve done when he stiffens to a stop

as quick as your hand has grabbed onto his shirt it lets go and you awkwardly laugh again

hahahahaha

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to hold onto you so hard i was just...wondering if you could let me in on your secret.”

the random sentence is one you’ve made off the top of your head because you don’t have any real reason for holding onto him

but thankfully for you the saccharine of your voice is enough to sway levi

when he turns to see you with the same smile eagerly awaiting his answer something sparks in him

his chest feels a little funny but he ignores it

“secret?” he questions

“yeah!! your tea!! you’re really good at making it and aaaahhhh” you sigh contently thinking back on it.

“i remember when i ordered rose tea one time. you made it beautifully and the taste was infused so delicately it was incredibly soothing.”

hearing you ramble passionately about what he loves to do makes his chest feel funny again

he doesn’t know what the hell is going on exactly

but the only way he can explain it is his heart somersaulting and flipping despite him not wanting it to

despite that, it’s quite enjoyable

it’s probably got something to do with your kindhearted demeanor or the way you always manage to give him a smile when you waltz in

but levi finds himself fighting to touch you more and more as the days pass

your collar is always haphazardly done and he wants to lean in and fix it

sometimes you’ll have an eyelash on your face and he wants to lean in to swipe it away with his thumb

occasionally he stares at your hair and wants to sort it out. half the time it’s all over the place from the wind

he wants to lean in and smooth it out.

all he wants to do is LEAN IN but he sees no valid reason to

he’s lucky he’s always able to catch himself before his thumb reaches your cheek (you’re very oblivious and never notice how close he really gets)

ever since your first encounter at leviolas a few months back he’s been dragged into your world of books and lively stories

it doesn’t take you long to break out of your shell and you’re always telling levi something new

he doesn’t speak as much as you but when you coax out a story or two out of him he’s always earnest

you’ve learnt a lot through the conversations

you’ve learnt about his lost comrades, the horrible things he had to see on the battlefield, how he hopes he’ll live happy with what he has left

there are certain conversation topics he skips entirely and you respect his boundaries

you and levi are sat by a window and a comfortable silence floats between you two

it’s been four months

four months since you asked what his secret was

come to think of it he never told you what it was

he’s intently staring at you as you drink the lemon tea he’s just made you and his stare is a little too intense

feeling nervous you pick up your cup hoping for something to occupy yourself

recently the butterflies in your stomach have been increasing in number but you know it’s wrong to fancy levi

you don’t know why you think that but it’s the fact that you’re sure you’re not his type

he probably likes organised people, dependable people, funny people

not you.

you’re just an irksome author who spends your days writing in his shop

honestly he finds you annoying he has to. you’re always hanging around here

however, you do remember the one day you did choose to write in the park he thought you had died or something. that made you feel a little sad because he can’t really help but automatically worry if his routine is broken and you happen to have accidentally become part of his schedule

no, like levi’s literally said he has your name in his planner and whenever he thinks of a new thing to make you he’ll write it down with your name next to it

but still,, you’re convinced he has to find you annoying

there’s no reason for thinking it but you DEFINITELY think it’s correct

absentmindedly you haven’t even noticed levi still staring at you

“y/n?”

looking up at levi he’s clearly worried about something

humming in response telling him to continue he does

“i like someone.”

oh.

“...i’m not sure they’d return my feelings, that’s why i mentioned it.”

you smile at him warmly and you feel your heart sink, obviously he has to like someone. it’s probably someone in the corps, someone strong, someone capable. you’re not any of those things.

“well, you need not worry. if a man as good as you fancied me i’d be over the moon. i’m sure they would too!”

keep optimistic, don’t let him see you upset.

levi’s cheeks grow bright red and he bashfully tries to hide his embarrassment by covering his face with his hands

you laugh when he doesn’t budge and stays in the same position 

“c’mon levi, confess they’ll accept you have nothing to fear.” you coo persuasively

finally letting up after a few seconds he lets his arms drop to his sides.

“would you date me?”

the question takes you aback and you stare at him startled

soon realizing the idiocy laced in the inquiry he quickly retracts his statement

“nevermind, that was stupid.”

ignoring him you still want to answer

“uh well, i would. i have thought about it on occasion.”

he’s blinking rapidly trying to process what you’ve just admitted.

“you’ve thought about...?”

“dating you. yes i have.”

“and why the hell would you do that?” you can’t tell if he’s mad at you

“you’re capable, respectful. you’re considerate and quiet. i mean it you’re an amazing man really. also your tea!! imagine getting to drink it every day.”

you really have to add in the part about his tea because you know he loves it when you compliment it :-)

“ok, you drink my tea every day already.”

his short uninterested response stings and the dam of regret bursts open 

you shouldn’t have said all of that.

you and levi sit in an awkward silence for what feels like an eternity. you don’t dare look at him and your course of action is too drink your tea as quick as possible before dismissing yourself.

but before you can set your plan in motion levi breaks the ice.

“let’s date.”

you freeze and your eyes grow to the size of saucers

what did he just say???

he has to be losing his mind

“but levi what about the person you like?”

his eyebrow cocks upwards and an amused expression stretches across his face.

“i was talking about you.” he confesses boldly

this is a fever dream, nope, nope nope. you can not comprehend that this is your reality.

pinching your arm you hiss a little when you feel the pain

okay so, you’re definitely not dreaming...

“i, you, me. you...you like me?” the sentence is a jumble of words but you manage to sputter out something that makes sense

“yes. i like you.”

he’s being so blunt you can’t tell if he’s being serious but when you remind yourself that this is levi you relax, a blunt straightforward confession is meaningful coming from him 

BUT THAT’S BESIDES THE POINT

HELLO???? HE LIKES YOU BACK?%^%^”*

you get all blushy and flustered and you let out another one of your awkward hahahahaha’s but it’s a good hahahahaha

cautiously testing the waters he grabs your hand from across the table intertwining his fingers with yours

the gesture is adorable. the buzzing sensation that travels through your laced fingers makes you giggle to yourself giddily

“leviolas suddenly a matchmaking agency now? ;-)” your joke is dry and unfunny and levi rolls his eyes at it 

“you’re not funny.”

“but you still like me.” you tease

“yes. i still like you.” he admits

a few days have passed since then

you and levi have been the talk of the town 

humanity’s strongest soldier finally found his flame???

the chatter and rumors spread like wildfire, both you and levi aren’t fans of being in the spotlight but nothing negative has been said so there’s no complaints so far

levi places a cup of tea in front of you, it’s a herbal kind because you’ve been complaining about a headache

today you’re explaining why you dislike the plot of beauty and the beast and how there’s so much wrong with it. from the weirdly toxic relationship to the power imbalance. levi stands listening attentively whilst waiting for you to take a sip of the tea

just as you’ve paused to take a large breathe and prepare yourself to continue explaining how unbearable that book is levi uses it as his chance to say what he’s been wanting to 

“drink up before it’s ice cold.”

following his instructions you interrupt yourself and take a gulp of the herbal tea

your eyes glimmer in approval. it tastes of strawberries and you’re delighted already feeling your mood slightly raise in response

“it’s GREAT?? what did you put in it?? it doesn’t even taste medicinal.” once again, you’re fawning over his tea

“so levi ackerman, what really is the secret to all these perfect cups of tea?”

and without a seconds hesitation he responds.

“i was making the tea for you. that’s the secret.”

it takes a while for the gravity of his words to sink it but when the meaning does you cup his face in your palms and peck him everywhere. he whines a little but you can tell he enjoys the attention

you find that you’re more than happy you’ve found a home in levi and his shop

and levi’s more than happy he’s found a home in you and your books

:-)

[quickspinner]

Neighborly

I had a bad case of writers block and rabbit brain trying to work on my wips yesterday, so I went and dug through my prompt lists, sat down with the sprint timer, and scrawled out this little bit of nonsense. I'm not sure about the final result but it broke the block, and I figured I might as well share it, so I hope you enjoy!

AO3

Rating: T

Marinette's been crushing on her cute neighbor for weeks, but she's never gotten the courage to speak more than a few flustered words to him. Now it might be too late--he's at her door begging for the use of her shower to get ready for his big date.

Marinette stared at the man standing at her door. 

“I’m sorry?” she said faintly, and the man smiled at her. That didn’t help the situation at all, as it made her knees wobbly. 

“Weird ask, I know,” he said, ruffling a hand through his blue-tinted hair. “It’s just that I’m supposed to have a date tonight and my shower’s been out for two days. Maintenance has quit answering my calls and I’m getting desperate. I really like this girl and I don’t want to give the wrong impression.” 

“Oh,” Marinette said, voice still weak, and then she plastered a plastic smile on her face. “O-of course you can! What are neighbors for, right? Um—” 

“Luka,” he supplied, still smiling. Marinette already knew that, of course. She knew an embarrassing amount of information about this man, considering they had only spoken in passing. The first time, he’d caught her when her shoe had broken in the hallway, and she’d pitched straight into him somehow managing to stop her fall and haul her back upright against him with only one strong arm. He hadn’t even lost the groceries he’d been carrying in the other. He’d smiled at her and told her to be careful with that soft velvet voice and she’d looked up into blue eyes that seemed far too gentle for his handsome, angular face and— 

Marinette suddenly realized it was her turn to talk and that she was taking too long. “Um M-Marinette, I’m. I’m Marinette,” she stammered.  

“Nice to finally officially meet you Marinette,” Luka said easily, as if she wasn’t the most awkward person he’d ever spoken to, as if she hadn’t run away from him after a few awkward words every time they’d bumped into each other—literally or otherwise. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll pop back over and grab my things, and be back in a few minutes?”

“Oh, um. Y-yeah, yeah, of course,” she babbled, and he turned away, raising a hand slightly. 

“Great, I’ll be back in a few then.” 

Marinette shut the door numbly, and then walked over to her couch and buried her face in a pillow. She screamed, kicking her feet, and then tossed the pillow away, moaning as she dragged her hands down her face. 

It wasn’t enough that the super hot musician with gorgeous shoulders and dreamy eyes was coming over to use her shower. He had to need her shower because he had a date . Marinette wanted to be his date! She’d been half-stalking him trying to work up the courage—well. Not really stalking him, just...observing. She just noticed things, that was all, like how he had a smile and a question for everybody, the way he fed the stray cats that lived behind the building, and always held open doors no matter who was behind him, and how hard his chest was beneath the baggy layers he wore, and—oh, that chest was going to be in her bathroom and—her bathroom! 

Marinette’s eyes flew wide and she nearly tripped over her own feet, flinging herself off the couch, running to the bathroom to grab anything too girly or potentially embarrassing and shove it under the sink. Fortunately her bathroom wasn’t dirty (she wasn’t an animal after all), just cluttered, and she frantically grabbed the underthings she’d draped over the shower rod to dry and ran them to her room, shoving them frantically under her pillow before going back to make absolutely sure she hadn’t missed any or left anything embarrassing. She put a clean towel on the rack and threw the dirty one over her arm and triple-checked to make sure there was no hair in the shower drain. She heard the knock on the door and jerked up, banging her head on the faucet of the tub. She yelped, dizzy with the pain for a moment. 

“Marinette?” Luka called, as she tried to extract herself from the bathtub with one hand clutched to her scalp. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her; that hurt. 

“Are you all right?” Luka asked, and Marinette whirled around wide-eyed to find him standing in the bathroom doorway. “I heard you yell and I let myself in, I hope that’s okay. Did you hurt yourself? Are you bleeding?” He dropped the backpack slung over his shoulder onto the floor and came over to her, gently tugging her hand away from her head. 

“I don’t think so,” Marinette gritted. “I was just...trying to clean up a bit, and…” She gestured at the faucet and Luka winced in sympathy.

“Ouch,” he muttered as he parted her hair with gentle fingers. He was so nice, Marinette mourned. Although...he did smell like he needed that shower. She held her breath and tried not to make a face. “It looks okay,” he said, stepping back away from her. “You didn’t have to clean for me.” 

Marinette gave an embarrassed shrug. “Wouldn’t you?” she asked dryly, and blushed when Luka laughed.

“Probably,” he conceded with a grin. “Thanks. I really didn’t mean to put you to inconvenience.”

“It’s no big deal,” Marinette said, finally mustering a smile. “Besides, how could I leave you in the lurch? Big date and all. I don’t need any more bad karma on my dating life.” 

Luka’s eyebrows rose, and Marinette flushed, cursing her stupid mouth that never shut up when it should. “So I’ll, um—” she gestured behind Luka to the door, “get out of here, so you can. You know.” 

“Oh, sorry.” Luka moved out of her way, pressing himself against the sink, and Marinette squeezed past him and out of the door. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.”

“This girl must be something special,” Marinette smiled as she backed into the small hallway. “For you to go to all this trouble instead of rescheduling.”

“She is,” Luka grinned. “She’s amazing. I think so, anyway. I don’t know her very well yet, but she’s awfully sweet and super cute.” The grin on his face turned a little goofy. “I’ve been smitten since I met her, honestly.” 

“Oh,” Marinette kept her smile in place, trying to ignore the cold feeling in her stomach. “Oh, that’s really sweet. Um, well I don’t want to make you late, so I’ll just...music! I’ll go turn on some music.” That way she wouldn’t hear the incredibly cute soon-to-be-naked boy in her bathroom. “Um, take your time, let me know if you need anything.”

Luka’s grin widened a little. “Thanks Marinette.” He shut the door, and Marinette marched herself back to the living room to scream into another pillow. 

After a few deep breaths and a lot of nervous fumbling, she got her music player running. Jagged Stone should be enough, right? Loud enough to cover—she heard the curtain rings slide across the rod. The shower started running and Luka’s deep sigh of relief. Poor guy , she thought, he must have been miserable . She put the music player on and sat for a moment, chewing her thumbnail nervously. 

After a few minutes she sat up straighter, listening. Was that—over the sound of the running water and Jagged Stone wailing through her sound system, she heard another voice. Luka was...singing? He was singing along with the song that was playing. Marinette giggled, and moved to the other end of the couch, listening. He had a nice voice, she thought wistfully. She’d seen him with a guitar on his back in the halls. She wondered if some of the music she occasionally heard through his door in the hall was music he made, rather than the radio as she’d assumed. 

She flopped on the arm of the couch and groaned. He was so cool, and she was such a disaster. She would have never been brave enough to ask to use a stranger’s shower, no matter how miserable and disgusting she was. 

Poor guy , she thought again. He must have been really desperate.

She sat up, and picked up her phone, looking at it in her hands. Maybe she could...well, it might be stupid but it couldn’t hurt to just ask, right?

Marinette dialed the building maintenance number. “Hi Pierre,” she chirped brightly when the grumpy old technician picked up the phone. “It’s Marinette in 34 B? How are you doing? 

“Miss Marinette!” The gruff tone softened. “I’m doing well, doing well. Tickets lined up like crazy, though. Everything seems to be breaking at once these days.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Marinette said, putting on a tone of great sympathy. “Maybe I shouldn’t bother you then—”

“Now, now, none of that. What can I do for you?” 

“It’s not actually me,” Marinette said, “It’s my neighbor across the hall, Luka? His shower’s been out for a while now and he came over tonight to see if he could use mine—”

“What?” barked old Pierre, and Marinette grinned to herself. “That punk with the piercings? You shouldn’t be letting him traipse through your apartment Miss Marinette. Guys like that always try to take advantage.”

“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t do that,” Marinette said innocently. “I’m sure he wouldn’t do anything like that. I was calling to see when his shower might be fixed, but if you’re so busy, maybe I should just give him my spare key so he can—”

“No, no,” Pierre said quickly. “I’ve got his ticket right here, see, he was next on the list. His shower will be fixed tomorrow, so don’t be making any foolish offers Miss Marinette. You’re too nice for your own good, you know.” 

“Oh, it never hurts to be nice, Pierre,” Marinette giggled. “I’m planning on making some chocolate chip scones tomorrow to take to a friend, so if you do come to fix Luka’s shower, stop on by, I’ll save a few of them for you.”

“Well, I’ll stop by if I have time,” Pierre said gruffly. “Not that sweets are much to a man my age, but if you made them…” 

“Great, I hope I’ll see you!” Marinette giggled. “Thanks so much Pierre, you’re an angel.” She hung up, grinning to herself.

“I can’t believe it. You’re magic.” 

Marinette jumped half out of her skin and whirled around. Luka grinned at her sheepishly, but she hardly noticed, because while he was wearing pants—a different, more fitted pair than what he’d had on when he arrived—his torso was bare, and her fluffy pink towel hung around his shoulders, catching only most of the drips falling from his blue hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, and I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I just wanted to ask if you had a hair dryer I can borrow. I forgot to grab mine.” 

“Oh, um, sure,” Marinette said, jumping up. “I’ll just...I’ll get it, if that’s okay.” She blushed, thinking of all the things she had shoved in the cabinet before he came. 

“Sure.” Luka moved back out of her way, and she shimmied past him into the bathroom. She blinked a moment at the amount of paraphernalia spread on her counter. She’d never thought guys used that much product, but she shook herself and bent over to dig in the cabinet, trying to block it with her body so Luka couldn’t see inside. It took some effort to find the hair dryer, which had been shoved against the back of the cabinet in her frenzied tidying, but by some miracle she extracted it without dumping all of the piled up junk onto the floor. Sighing in relief, she straightened and turned. “Got it!” 

Luka was looking at the ceiling. His darkly tanned skin was flushed from the hot shower and the line of his neck made her swallow. “Luka?” she repeated, trying not to squeak. 

His dropped his gaze back to her, and she froze under the intensity in that look for a moment. Then he blinked and smiled, softening, and Marinette felt she could move again. She offered him the hair dryer and he took it. “Thanks, Marinette,” he said. “And thanks for getting Pierre’s ass in gear. He hates me, so I figured it’d be a week at least before I could get him to come out.” 

“Oh, that.” Marinette shrugged, and grinned mischievously. “I have a lot of experience dealing with grouchy old men.” She winked, and to her mild surprise, the color in Luka’s cheeks deepened. He cleared his throat. 

“Well, thanks for making the effort, I really appreciate it.” 

“Why does he hate you?” Marinette frowned, as Luka’s words caught up to her. 

Luka nodded vaguely in the direction of the back of the building. “We got into it over me feeding the strays. He was nattering on about disease and just breeding more and blah, blah, blah.” Luka rolled his eyes. “If he’d actually listen for five minutes...anyway, I have a friend, the blond that was with me that one time, you remember? He runs a trap-and-release program for feral cats, gets them vaccinated and fixed and all that and then lets them back out into their home territory. The cats behind our building are probably as safe as your average indoor cat, in terms of disease.” 

“Oh,” Marinette gasped, awed. “That’s really cool.” 

Luka grinned. “He’s pretty passionate about it. He did all the real work, trapping and transport and all that. I just make sure they have a good meal. May I?” He gestured towards the sink, and Marinette jumped.

“Oh, of course, please. I’m sorry, I’m going to make you late with all this chattering—” Marinette babbled as she and Luka did a slightly awkward dance to let him in and her out of the bathroom. He smelled much better now, she noticed giddily as they had to squeeze together. She only barely managed not to squeal when he took her arm lightly to guide her around him. 

“By the way,” he called once she was out, and she glanced back to see him unscrewing the lid on one of the sink jars. “Do you have any suggestions for good places to eat close by?” He looked over his shoulder at her and grinned. “I’m always looking to try new things.” 

“U-um—” Finding it hard to think while staring at his bare back, Marinette turned away and tapped a finger to her lips in thought. “What kind of food do you like?”

“Anything,” Luka replied, running fingers coated in some kind of gel through his hair. “I like all kinds of things.”

“What does she like?” 

“I don’t know yet,” Luka admitted. 

Marinette considered. “Well, my favorite is this Italian place about two blocks down, but Italian is chancy on a first date. Messy, you know. She might not be comfortable.” Marinette raised her voice as Luka turned on the hair dryer. “There’s an Indian place that’s a little farther away, and there’s a really cute little patisserie right next to it, that could be romantic. Oh, and there’s a park right there, if you feel like a nighttime stroll.” She frowned. “You didn’t already figure this stuff out?”

“I’m not really a planner,” Luka laughed, his deep voice carrying easily even over the noise of the dryer. “I had some ideas, but sometimes the universe throws you an Indian place and a cute patisserie, with a moonlight stroll in the bargain.” He winked at Marinette. “It pays to keep an open mind.” 

Marinette started to smile, and then remembered she was helping him plan a date with someone else, and turned away again. “Okay, well, you’ll have to let me know how it goes,” she said quickly as she went down the hallway. Her eyes were stinging and she took a deep breath as she blinked. Stupid , she scolded herself. She didn’t even know him, because just like always she’d never found the guts to actually talk to him, besides a hello and good night! and one very rushed um, cat food was on sale and I noticed it was the brand you buy so...here! SEEYOULATERBYE! He was her neighbor and she hadn’t even asked his name before today, only seen it on the mail that had been misdelivered to her box instead of his. All she had was little stolen scraps, because she hadn’t been brave enough to ask for more.

Ugh she was such a loser, it was no wonder Luka had never even—well, he had said a word to her, actually. Words like Are you all right? and Can I help you with that? and Wow, thanks, that’s so cool of you . Because he was sweet and nice as well as good looking, and if she’d had any guts at all maybe she could have— 

“Marinette?” 

She whirled, and Luka was standing there, his bag at his feet, closing the last two buttons of a black dress shirt. “Are you all right?” he asked as he began rolling the sleeves up to bare his forearms. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” 

“What? No, of course not.” Marinette clamped her teeth down on her tongue before she could blurt something like I have shirtless men in my home all the time . Luka was looking at her with a slightly furrowed brow.  

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I should have gone back to my place to finish up, I wasn’t—I mean I didn’t mean to impose or anything.” 

Marinette took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then gave him a genuine smile. “You didn’t. Really, Luka, I wasn’t bothered. I just, um. I got emotional about something for a moment there, but it wasn’t your fault.” 

Luka nodded. “Something about bad dating karma?” he guessed, voice so gentle it made her ache. 

“More or less.” Marinette tried to smile.

“Well,” Luka sighed, finishing the second sleeve. “Honestly I haven’t been too lucky in that department myself. I was hoping tonight would change that, but...maybe...maybe it isn’t the best time after all.” 

“What?” Marinette cried, staring at him. “Why? Luka, you seemed like you liked this girl so much, and you’re all dressed up.” She stepped to him and adjusted the set of his collar without thinking. “You look so good, it’ll be great. She won’t be able to resist you. Believe me, I know it’s scary to put yourself out there, but won’t you regret it if you don’t?” I do .  

Luka caught her wrists gently. “Yeah, I really think I would.” He grinned. “Now I just need to ask her.” 

Marinette blinked up at him. “You didn’t ask her?” she asked, bewildered. “Isn’t it going to be kind of short notice?” She frowned. “You said you had a date tonight.” 

Luka dipped his head in a kinda-sorta motion. “I said I was supposed to have a date tonight,” he chuckled. “And I would have—or at least I hope so—if I’d asked you out two days ago when I planned. But then I got home from work and of course I was sweaty and gross and then my shower wouldn’t work, and I couldn’t talk to you while I was disgusting. Not when you’re always so pretty and neat and put together.” 

Marinette’s cheeks flushed. 

“And then Pierre didn’t show and he didn’t show and he didn’t show,” Luka rolled his eyes. “And if I didn’t ask you out today, I’d owe my buddy that runs the cat rescue my favorite signed Jagged Stone album. He’s been bugging me about asking you out for like a month.” He grinned. “Ever since you brought me the cat food? He could see how much I liked you and he decided then and there we were meant to be, and somehow I let him talk me into this stupid—bet or dare or whatever, that if I didn’t man up by today...well. I would’ve asked you anyway one way or another.” 

Marinette’s mouth dropped open, and she was sure her face must be on fire.

“So, now that I’m presentable,” Luka grinned slowly. “Will you go out to dinner with me tonight? I heard about this really good Indian place. Maybe afterwards we could grab dessert and take a walk in the park? I’d really like to get to know you better.” 

Marinette gasped, and then her lips pursed into a pout. Luka laughed. “You’re mean,” she told him, kicking his shin lightly.

Luka’s shoulders hunched a little, and he looked guilty. “I didn’t mean to be. I’m sorry for teasing.” He blushed. “I guess I was nerving myself up a bit, telling you how much I liked you without you knowing, but I didn’t think about how it would come across. I didn’t mean to upset you. No pressure, okay?” He slid his hands from her wrists to her hands and lowered them between them. “If you don’t want to, no hard feelings. Just, like you said. I’d regret it if I didn’t try.” 

“But—” Marinette let go of his hands as her own flew to her hair. “I’m not dressed for a date!” 

Luka chuckled. “You look gorgeous to me. But I can wait if you want to change.” 

Marinette reddened. “I—w-well, I mean...I mean I guess we could—” Luka laid a finger on her lips.

“Breathe,” he told her, clearly trying not to laugh. “You’re really cute, you know that?”  

That didn’t help her efforts to calm down, but she did manage to breathe, despite the very distracting slide of his finger as it left her lips. “Fine,” she said finally. “But you better be prepared because I’m going all out for our second date.” 

Luka’s grin went wide and bright and more than a little silly. “I can’t wait.”   

ETA:  Okay, yes, I know this was a bit mean for Marinette. I did actually really waffle about it while I was writing it and I almost scrapped it a couple times, but the whole point of the timer is to keep me on task and stop the second guessing and overthinking that was sabotaging me, so I ran with it. I did ultimately decide to keep it because really, they haven't had a chance to really talk or anything here, and so Luka doesn't really know that Marinette's into him. He's aware there's some attraction between them, but he doesn't know how hard she's crushing. So really, he's just a bit insecure himself and psyching himself up a bit for The Moment. So I justify it to myself anyway. As soon as he's able to actually take in her mood he's aware he's messed up. If you can't forgive him, that's okay. Mari will get him back later.

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