#it’s not just media it’s real life too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neiptune · 2 days ago

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this town is fake but you're the real thing

cw: 11k wc, female reader, social media relationship, suna downloads an app that randomly matches anonymous users with each other because osamu thinks it'll help him open up more, strangers to lovers, romance, pining, so much texting, suna is as emotionally constipated as it gets

Against all expectations, it’s Osamu who managed to get under his skin.

An innocent night out to celebrate the new Onigiri Miya branch in Shizuoka, a few beers shared on a bench by the port, what started as innocent conversation about each other’s dating life soon turning into a painfully precise evaluation of why he can’t seem to find someone worth keeping around.

“You don’t really open up to them”, his friend shrugged.

“I open up to them plenty. I’ve been with Yuki for three months”, Suna refuted such harsh remark with a scowl.

“Yeah”, Samu mused, “have you ever shared anything about your friends and family? What’s the most vulnerable thought or feeling you discussed?”.

Rintaro took a moment to reflect, begrudging silence weighing more each second spent quiet.

“She met Motoya”.

Osamu rolled his eyes, “Shit, you’re right— can’t believe ya didn’t propose. Meeting Komori’s the real deal”.

“You know, if I wanted to hang out with the twin who’d be a pain in my ass, I would’ve called your brother”.

With a snort and a handsome grin, Osamu lightly bumped his shoulder against Suna’s. “Ya love us”, then his gaze softened as he took a swig from the bottle, “I’m just sayin’. Maybe a relationship is not what you need right now”.

“Then what do I need?”, despite a fiery remonstrance, Rintaro found himself leaning onto Osamu’s judgement. He’d always been very good at reading people, much like his brother, but Samu’s approach was always balanced and, most importantly, sincere. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was something he’s missing about himself, something that shined bright for his best friend to catch instead.

“A connection, dumbass”, Osamu lightly pat his shoulder, “it doesn’t have to be romantic. It definitely doesn’t have to be sexual. You need to find someone you can talk to”.

“I talk—”

“Someone who isn’t us. Not me, not ‘Tsumu”, he ignored Rintaro’s indignant scoff, “not Shinsuke, not Aran. You need to get out of your comfort zone with someone new. A stranger!”.

“A stranger? You want me to stop someone on the street and casually ask them to listen to whatever trauma is tied to my fear of flying?”.

“Start small”, Osamu’s eyes glinted with the excitement that a good idea usually brings, “try that app Bokuto was trying so hard to get Sakusa to download. Matchpal, was it?”.

“Sounds like a great way to have a fifty year old creep flash me with a dick pic. No, thank you”.

“I’d think about it. Ya know, we’re not getting any younger. Like ‘Tsumu said, you—”

“I should hurry up before I grow old with only my emotional unavailability to keep me company, I remember”, Rintaro finished his beer with a grimace. Osamu chuckled, eventually dropped the topic, but the suggestion remained unpleasantly hanging over his head both like a succulent fruit and a risky presage.

So now he’s slumped in the living room of the spacious apartment the EJP provides, a quiet Friday evening spent cooking some stew for dinner and facetiming his family. The tv is on as a distraction and an easy way out should things get uncomfortable. Surely Dwight will keep him grounded.

Suna’s already downloaded the app but it takes one episode and a half to muster the courage to actually tap on it.

The interface is pretty easy to navigate. It seems he’s supposed to create a minimalist profile first and then he’d be free to start a new, random chat. Users can opt out anytime or, if they wish to keep a specific person as their anonymous match, add them as a friend and pin the conversation within their personal directory. Nothing too complicated.

Suna’s patience wears thin easily and after a few attempts at picking unavailable usernames, he settles for crysnoopy. Finally, original enough at last.

Since not revealing one’s identity seems to be the point of the entire thing, he can’t upload a profile picture and instead has to select one random avatar from the default library. He picks a cartoon frog with big eyes and no mouth on a light green background.

There he is, an anonymous online presence on a stupid app. His profile only contains a nickname, he/him pronouns, age and a cute icon. No interests listed, no boundaries, not a single space where he could leave a polite note— please don’t send unsolicited dick pics. Not that he ever plans on requesting one.

Suna starts a few new chats, faceless identities either ending the conversation right away upon his dry and unoriginal hey or being as odd as one would imagine strangers in an anonymous community could be.

Lavenderhaze

-> Hi.

Lavenderhaze

-> How are you?

He sinks deeper into the nice couch pillows Atsumu forced him to get.

crysnoopy

-> hey. all good, wbu?

Lavenderhaze

-> Good, bored.

Lavenderhaze

-> Should we exchange nudes or something?

Rintaro sighs. Hesitation is laced into the delay of his thumb but eventually he taps the skip option, Osamu’s ominous words still ringing loud and clear in his head. It’s not what he downloaded the dumb app for, it’s not what he needs right now. Fuck, maybe he really should’ve called Atsumu instead.

A new chat opens after a short loading time and his nose wrinkles when he realizes that he’ll probably have to send the first message this time. The username staring back at him is original enough to make Suna take a few seconds to think of something equally entertaining to say. The whole thing is never going to work if he doesn’t take it seriously and actually puts some effort in it, right?

He looks up from his phone for a second. Then, a loud ping makes him jump.

Unfinishedusernam

-> When you shower, do you actively wash your legs or just let soapy water rinse down on them?

Rintaro almost huffs out a laugh. Original username and approach? A good enough start to ignite the hope of finally be talking to someone sane.

crysnoopy

-> I don’t shower.

A beat passes, then the small animation of a hand idly scribbling with a pencil indicates that you’re typing something back.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s hot.

-> Why the username?

Suna’s lips twitch, not a smile but almost. He wants to type an equally sarcastic reply, brush the question off and maybe ask something more interesting instead. But then he remembers what he’s doing and forces an honest reply out of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> my little sister used to scream like an eagle when she cried, the one thing that always shut her up was a snoopy plush I won at the arcade.

Suna barely registers that his leg starts bouncing lightly as he watches the little hand appear on the screen once more.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m glad it’s something cute :)

-> Lowkey thought you were an incel

This time he really does snort out half a laugh.

crysnoopy

-> if I was I would’ve asked why your username is edging me.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fair. So… you do shower, right?

crysnoopy

-> I promise I do.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Damn, my incel detector has truly failed me.

-> You seem suspiciously normal btw, I feel like we could have a conversation that doesn't involve dicks

Suna’s hand blindly reaches for the remote to lower the volume of the show he currently doesn’t seem to need as additional emotional support.

crysnoopy

-> likewise. wanna make it official?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Jeez, at least buy me dinner first

Rintaro’s beat to it, before he can even click on the option there’s already a colorful notification popping up on his screen, informing that he has a new friend request.

He accepts it.

It took some convincing for Samu to agree but, eventually, the spot on the pull-out couch became his. Between Hyogo and Shizuoka, with imminent plans of further expanding in Tokyo, he’s always travelling to make sure the shops are keeping their top quality standard high. The Shizuoka branch is still too recent for him to retreat back to his hometown for good, so he’s there most of the time. Suna had to call him an idiot a million times before Osamu accepted his hospitality, never one to ask for anything, always first in line to help others instead. Suna thinks he still didn’t call him an idiot enough times.

They’re both gone most of the day anyway, between the restaurant and training. The season is about to start and the trip to Osaka feels more imminent than ever, Suna knows he has to be at the top of his game to perform exactly how he’s expected to. Which means, no distractions. He does a good job at avoiding those, dating apps left unopened and the way home now shorter than usual, to circumvent his favorite bakery. Those blueberry muffins will have to wait. Samu’s healthier alternative with gram oats and bananas is one hell of a substitute anyway.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. The house feels less empty when he’s around and there’s always a homemade meal tucked somewhere in the fridge. They share breakfast when they get up at the same time and night conversations at the kitchen table if Rintaro manages to stay awake late enough to wait for Osamu to be back.

But sometimes, being alone is easier. No explanations owed for the one distraction he seems unable to give up, no curious raise of the eyebrows he’d have to confront when the familiar ping from his phone prompts an immediate reaction the wrong twin would tease him endlessly for.

He’s always been a dry texter or so his friends, teammates and relatives have always told him. Suna didn’t ever think he was supposed to make an effort to become better at written communication, or communication in general. But now, there’s you. A faceless, perhaps not entirely sane someone who makes him check his notifications way too often, insides spasming when the message doesn’t come from one of his groupchats and the Matchpal icon flashes across the screen instead.

Suna likes talking to you, so much that he often finds himself being the one to text first. It’s okay if you’ll take hours to get back to him sometimes, he knows for certain that the message is eventually going to light up his screen and that’s enough to make him smile. Sometimes you text first, at either ungodly hours in the middle of the night or during the day, if you’re bored at work. He doesn’t know what your job is, you don’t know precisely what Suna does either because, again, anonymity. The only detail he’s familiar with is that you’re often around “wearing but rewarding humans”, as you’d once put it. The one thing you know about him is that he’s an athlete, something you had briefly teased him for.

When he’s not talking to you, when parts or even the entirety of days that used to belong to him and his routine alone are devoid of your messages, Suna finds himself thinking. Or rather, imagining. There’s a lot he doesn’t know and he refuses to overwhelm you with questions, therefore his mind desperately tries to fill in the gaps to no avail. Are you spending the evening reading a book, watching a tv show? Did you cook dinner or order takeout? How happy are you that it’s been raining for three days straight on a scale of ‘I can only function if it’s sunny and bright’ to ‘leave me in a storm and watch me flourish’ ?

Most times, Suna simply plugs the charging cable into is phone, switches off the bedside light and hopes to wake up to one of your texts. They seem to be making an increasingly dangerous difference between a good day and a bad one. He’s not entirely sure it’s ideal.

Unfinishedusernam

-> The humans are testing me today. Whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re having fun!

-> Ah, look what my mom baked yesterday. Told her I have a friend who’d love these :)

-> [IMG_65209]

Rintaro, elbows resting on his knees and towel haphazardly thrown around the neck, smiles at the screen. God, he hasn’t had a blueberry muffin in over a month, but what he’s really focusing on is that you’ve mentioned him. To your mom. There’s a low, static buzz in his ears now, punctuated by the thumps of his heart growing louder. It makes you feel more real, it also makes something simmer in his stomach.

crysnoopy

-> I’m at training.

-> They look really good. Send me one immediately. How was family dinner?

He’s enabled auto-capitalization for the first time in his life, for god’s sake. The Inarizaki groupchat was so disturbed Atsumu decided to apply the same additional authenticator method used by his online banking and forced Suna to reply to a secret question. One only the real Suna would know the answer to.

He successfully demonstrated the needed personal knowledge concerning the color of Aran’s lucky underwear in high school and thus confirmed his identity.

Unfinishedusernam

-> It was nice! I love spending time with them

-> How’s training?

Rintaro finds himself wanting to give his identity shape too. It’s the first time he’s seen your hand, holding that tupperware underneath the dim light of your mom’s kitchen. He wants to feel more real for you, too.

He snaps a picture of his hand holding a half-empty water bottle, careful to hide his shoes. Not that you’d be able to immediately tell he plays volleyball from those, but just in case. You do get to see part of his legs though, shorts and their very recognizable colors kept out of frame.

crysnoopy

-> [IMG_65209]

-> Almost done, very tired

He watches as the little hand scribbles, then stops. It resumes the writing, then stops once more. His leg is bouncing again, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He straight up jumps when, suddenly, someone loudly falls on the empty spot next to him and the bench creaks.

“We’re on a roll today, my blocks are almost as good as yours”, Washio grins, temples shining with sweat. He briefly glances down at the phone Suna almost drops when it vibrates against his palm.

“You okay?”.

“Yes”, Rintaro clears his throat, makes a show of shoving the phone right back into his bag, “you’re in shape today. Motoya too”.

“Ready for Osaka!”, Komori fist-bumps Tatsuki right before sitting next to him with an exaggerated groan, “hey, is your friend still in town? The Miya twin. We could go out tonight, get some drinks”.

“We literally leave in three days”, Suna’s fist lightly lands on his teammate’s head.

“Mocktails”, Motoya sticks his tongue out.

“I feel like I already see your faces enough. And I’m about to see them even more”.

“Rintaro don’t be a grumpy asshole, challenge once again failed”, Tatsuki rolls his eyes, “you’re always glued to that damn phone when you’re not playin’. Let’s go out, have fun, possibly get laid?”.

Suna sighs heavily. “Fine. I wanted to visit Samu’s new shop anyway, we can have dinner and take him with us afterwards”. He should get Osamu a gift, a nice plant or a maneki-neko. He’ll stop by a few shops on the way home, he decides.

“Now you’re talking!”, Washio smacks his shoulder with way too much energy, “let’s ask Nagito too, he’s gonna love some free onigiri!”.

“Hey, we’re payin’ for those”.

“Sure we are!”.

“I’m serious, you ass—”

“That’s enough gossiping, boys. Get back to work!”, by muscle memory, their legs react to coach’s boisterous voice and all three men jump up from their seats. Suna spends the rest of the late afternoon training thinking about the text message hidden in his gym bag.

It’s way past 6PM when training ends, the last half an hour was spent studying opponent videos and then simulating different match scenarios. Suna’s brain feels fried and on any other day he’d be so ready to get a massage, eat a well-balanced dinner and melt on his couch in front of a good tv show until his eyelids would grow heavy.

Instead, he takes the long way home, legs heavy as he explores different shops in search for the perfect gift. He settles for a very beautiful, handmade, porcelain maneki-neko, left paw raised instead of the right one because Suna knows Osamu will always care about having more customers who trust his restaurant rather than having more money.

The shop owner puts the gift in an elegant box and seals the bag with a delicate ribbon, he thanks the old lady with a deep bow and despite his limbs feeling heavy with fatigue, as he breathes in the cool air of the evening, Suna is content. He thinks of the message sitting pretty in his pocket as he heads home.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You have really nice hands

He didn’t open it, not yet. It’s reassuring to have the notification sitting there, untouched and polished against his lockscreen.

It shouldn’t matter that a stranger on an app is complimenting his hands, it really shouldn’t. Then why does it, somehow? Suna is happy you find his hands nice, which feels like a recipe for disaster. As he walks past his favorite bakery, he remembers you mentioning how you enjoy grabbing croissants for breakfast at times. When he told you that he was about to leave for a retreat with his team, after asking if their destination was one among Tokyo, Osaka and Yokohama, you proceeded to list all your favorite cafes, bakeries and restaurants for each of them. Just in case he had the time and wanted to check them out. As much as he tries to keep his distance, something as trivial as mentioning the correct city possibly resulting too risky, you always seem to go out of your way to reach closer. Taking the time to prepare three separate lists of suggestions while simultaneously respecting his boundaries is an effort he deems… unexpected. It feels weird in the best way. He almost wants to tell you it’s Osaka after all, give you something real, something new to hold on to. Maybe he’ll even tell you it’s volleyball.

“Coming home from another bad date?”, the unexpected quip startles Suna as he looks up from the sidewalk to find his not so friendly neighbor directing a saccharine smile at him, trash bags in hand. Not too long ago, he would’ve asked if she needed help with those.

“At least I still go on dates”, he purposefully eyes her attire, hoodie and sweatpants. Suna knows she’s just trying to annoy him, she can see the gym bag.

“With women who are blind, deaf, mute and desperate?”, she offers a sly smile and he rolls his eyes.

“That’s not a very flattering description of yourself, now”.

She huffs out a sarcastic laugh but Suna can see right through it: the irritation and the embarrassment.

“Always a pleasure running into you, Suna”.

“Likewise”, he smirks, “careful with those bags”.

Suna says goodbye with an unbothered wave of the hand despite her giving him the finger, positively happy that for a good while the chances of running into his neighbor will be reduced to zero. Osaka can’t come fast enough.

The thing is, he was surprised she lived so close when they first started chatting on a regular dating app. When Suna confirmed they were essentially in the same neighborhood, she was the one to propose a dinner right away.

Truthfully, it had been a bad day for him, for a number of reasons. Training was terrible, he was worried sick about his little sister’s sprained ankle, his own tendinitis was giving him hell and Atsumu had decided to call him to talk his ear off for an entire hour about the surprise party they were supposed to throw for Kita’s birthday. Yet, he didn’t feel like bailing on his date, so he forced himself out of the house with the worst mood.

Dinner was terrible. Awkward, tense, her growing increasingly impatient about his lack of responsiveness, him snapping at the tiniest, dumbest inputs. The entire night ended up being such a disaster she left halfway through her creamy salmon pasta, a few banknotes tucked underneath a glass of water, enough to pay half the bill. He remembers deflating in his seat, feeling terrible for five minutes, finishing his own dinner and then leaving as if nothing happened.

Suna thought about texting, maybe even apologizing, but he just never found it in himself to actually do it. It was just a bad date, bad dates happen. He’d never seen her before, or maybe simply didn’t pay enough attention to notice her presence, so there was no way he could’ve anticipated just how fucking often he’d run into her from that day onwards. She never failed to remind him of her resentment and, frankly, that ended up igniting his.

Of course Osamu’s leftovers are on his kitchen counter, neatly wrapped in tin foil. He remembers how hungry he’d feel after training, so when he knows Suna’s going to be busy until the late afternoon, he always makes sure to cook an extra portion.

Rintaro lets the gym bag fall onto the floor, right next to the couch he drops on with a groan. He’s already showered, he simply needs to change clothes and head out once more. When he checks the latest messages, his brows furrow in confusion.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still at training?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck, sorry, that was probably weird.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I really didn’t mean to sound like a creep

Suna really, actually smiles at his screen. You’re insecure about complimenting him, which is sweet. He should’ve complimented you first.

crysnoopy

-> Just got home

-> You didn’t sound like a creep, I like your hands too :)

His heartbeat picks up in pace when the hand starts scribbling shortly after, indicating that you’re online and were probably waiting for his reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Ugh, see? Now you feel like you’re forced to compliment me

crysnoopy

-> No I don’t?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Liar. Here, if you’re sincere, compliment these.

-> [IMG_98279]

A laugh bubbles from his throat when he opens the picture of your feet in a pair of fuzzy fox slippers.

crysnoopy

-> They’re beautiful. I’d kill to have an identical pair

-> So you have nice hands and cool slippers, good to know.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re a flirt in your everyday life, aren’t you?

Once again, Suna hesitates. He is, clearly he is. In all likelihood, if he knew you in real life, he would be. You’re nice, intelligent, funny, someone he can easily see himself being interested in. But it’s not what he downloaded the app for, he shouldn’t wander in flirty territory, he really shouldn’t.

crysnoopy

-> Only if they own a pretty set of slippers

When has he ever been good at following judicious advice?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Knew it. Flirt.

-> Can I ask you something?

crysnoopy

-> Ask away

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why are you on this app?

He sighs. Flirty territory is easier than honesty territory. A quick glance at the clock on his kitchen wall instills a sense of urgency as he types a reply, as raw and sincere as it gets.

crysnoopy

-> I wanted to find out if I could open up to strangers more than I do with people I actually know

He really fucking hopes Osamu is proud. Let it be known that he’s trying.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Do you think you could open up to me?

Suna exhales from his nose. This is definitely not the type of conversation he wanted to have while on a rush.

crysnoopy

-> Maybe

-> I’d like that.

He waits for a few seconds, chat gone silent. Maybe you logged off, maybe you don’t know how to reply, either way Suna feels a weight lifting from his chest. It’s true, he thinks he might have a deeper conversation with you of all people. A faceless someone who sends him pictures of stray cats and nice sunsets, who makes him smile at silly jokes. He shortly wonders if you’d like to open up to him in the same way, if being vulnerable will ever be on the table. For now, he’s okay with simply letting you know.

Osaka ends up being extra motivating.

The EJP Raijin players have been training hard, religiously respecting their schedules: there’s no time for slacking off, days punctuated by a disciplined sleep routine, physical and tactical training, cool-down exercises, refuelling afternoons and evenings spent cross-training. The synergy within the team is off the charts, they have won every single practice match played so far and the excitement is palpable as the game with the Black Jackals approaches.

Their training sessions are usually shorter. Atsumu insists it’s because they’re in better shape, Suna’s almost punched him in the face over dinner.

When he’s not too exhausted, against all odds, he enjoys spending some time with old friends and acquaintances. He knows it’s going to be a difficult game, Sakusa is a pain in the ass to block and Inunaki, their libero, is very talented. But he thinks he’s ready.

As they stroll through the city when their free days or breaks coincide, Suna is sometimes hit with pangs of a sentiment not entirely foreign. Nostalgia, regret? He can never tell for certain. He misses having his friends around, being in the same place at all times, travelling less. As he thinks of Osamu currently being the only occupant of his large, painfully empty apartment, while he shares a portion of takoyaki with an ever annoyingly loud Atsumu, when he listens to Bokuto enthusiastically detail his relationship with Keiji, he thinks he’s missing out on too many things and he’s past feeling unperturbed about it.

“Shoyo says he’s very happy in Brazil, asked us to visit soon. Ya should come”, Atsumu lightly bumps Suna’s shoulder with his as they walk by the river, in search of a good viewing spot. The colorful procession carrying portable shrines is quickly filling up the boats to be paraded up and down the Okawa river. While it’s still early for fireworks, oh and bunraku performances are about to begin on different stage boats, and the air is filled with fragrances coming from the endless rows of festival food stalls. What an unexpected fortune, to be in town for the Tenjin Matsuri.

“Not gonna crash on your friend’s couch”, Suna’s peremptory tone makes Atsumu roll his eyes.

“Why are you being so pissy today? What’s up, scared you’re gonna lose?”.

Rintaro searches for something in his friend’s annoyingly familiar, limpid gaze as Bokuto snickers next to him. He finds his own affection, honed by years of joint quarrels, reflected in it.

“Rin?”, Atsumu’s worried now, head slightly tilted to the side. Suna offers a tiny smile.

“Do you ever miss Hyogo?”.

“No”, the answer comes quick, “I miss my family, I miss my friends. Yer ugly face especially. Places are just places”, he shrugs and Suna feels his shoulders relax.

“We’re lucky, we still get to catch up”, Bokuto smiles, “it’s okay to feel sad sometimes though”.

“I’m not sad”, Suna grimaces, “t’was just a question. Shut up”.

“Aw, don’t be shy! Keiji always says owning how we really feel is important”, Bokuto offers him one of his dangos and he begrudgingly takes it.

“I feel like… you should shut up”, he gruffs out. Atsumu snickers at that and Bokuto pouts. Suna doesn’t pay attention to any of them, too preoccupied with taking a decent picture of the boats. He wonders if he’ll be able to make the fireworks look as pretty as they’re in real life, to show them to you.

He doesn’t care that you’ll know where he is, it isn’t but a small part of himself he wishes to unravel for you. It’s what you two have been doing, no? Occasionally sending each other messages that go beyond jokes and memes. You now know he has twins as friends, just how much he loves his little sister, his favorite dish. Suna knows you live close to your family and visit them as often as possible, that you always bring a can of tuna in your bag should you come across stray cats on the way to work. He knows you’re scared of the dark and can’t look at blood without feeling dizzy. You’re trusting, extremely indecisive, a fierce procrastinator, you spend too much time on tiktok and are scared to death you’re not going to be able to keep those who are important to you in your life, forever. Suna gets it, really.

He hasn’t been able to say much, you opened up to him as if it was nothing and he still can’t bring himself to share much more than comforting words and feeble details. Who cares if he likes yakisoba? He hates how detached he feels from everyone else. He feels lonely. He wishes he still lived in the same town as his friends. Sometimes he goes to sleep with the tv left on, to simulate someone else’s presence in a cold, empty apartment. He misses his family, like, all the time. The thought of getting on a plane paralizes him. He doesn’t think he’s good enough at volleyball, his team may lose and it would be his fault. He doesn’t think he’s good enough.

“Taking cute pics for your mystery girl?”, Atsumu grins widely. Suna keeps a composed facade, calmly snaps a few additional shots, but internally he’s screaming. It’s his fault for expecting a twin to keep a secret, really.

“How d’you know they’re not for my instagram?”.

“You haven’t updated your feed in a year”, Bokuto points at his phone screen, sunarin profile open to prove a point. Rintaro almost snatches it from his hand to throw it into the river below.

“She’s not my girl”, he grumbles instead, “just a random person I talk to. It was Osamu’s idea”.

“It was a good idea. I’ve been trying to get Kiyoomi on that app too, you’re both so closed off”.

On any other occasion, Suna would’ve denied that and retorted with an abrasive remark. Not this time, though.

“Yeah. Trying to improve there”, he huffs, to which Atsumu’s ready-to-take-the-piss expression softens.

“Right. So how is she? Can’t remember the last time you texted with a stranger for more than a week before they were either ghosted or became your girlfriend”.

“She’s okay. I don’t know much”.

“Everyone on Matchpal is anonymous”, Kotaro fills in Atsumu’s knowledge gaps.

“She has to be more than okay if you’ve been talking for over a month”, the older Miya insists, prodding mercilessly at Suna’s discretion.

“She’s funny”, he finally concedes, “and smart. Makes opening up to a stranger look too easy”.

“Smart? Okay, ya definitely wouldn’t be her type then”, part of the tightness in Suna’s chest dissipates as his fist collides with Atsumu’s arm.

“I think that’s the point, though. You don’t know each other and will never meet, so you can admit things you wouldn’t normally mention. Be vulnerable”, Bokuto finishes his dangos and crumples up the small disposable cardboard box they came with.

“Yes but at this point she doesn’t really feel like a stranger anymore”, Suna pauses after saying that out loud, surprised by his own words. When has he stopped considering you a faceless someone on a random app, exactly? He realizes he’s given you a voice in his head. A smile he imagines reacting to his lame jokes, when he deflects tentative personal questions. He’s given you a routine, shared most of his. You don’t feel like a stranger anymore but you’re not exactly a friend. What are you, then?

“Uh-oh”, it takes a moment to realize that the teasing sound comes from Bokuto. Crap.

“And we could meet”, Suna pushes, “Shizuoka is not that big”.

“She’s from Shizuoka? Christ”, Atsumu lets out a low whistle, “does she know you live in the same city?”.

“She never asked”, if the justification sounds odd, his friends are kind enough not to point it out. He doubts Osamu would be as lenient. Truth is, he didn’t ask either: after some time, you had just randomly disclosed the information, probably because you perceived him as a very discrete person. Which, for the record, he is.

“I’m going to ask you this question just once. Do ya like this girl?”.

“No”, obviously not, “I don’t even know her”.

“Oh? But you just said she doesn’t feel like a stranger?”, Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot up.

Suna sighs. His limbs feel heavy but it’s a different feeling than the one he gets after practice, more draining.

“He’ll figure it out”, the weight of Atsumu’s hand on his shoulder feels weirdly comforting.

I don’t know what she feels like, Suna wants to say. He settles for saying nothing, as the hold on his shoulder grows tighter for a split second.

Coach is going to have an earful ready for Motoya if he doesn’t show up on time at practice, in the morning. He’s still out celebrating-drinking with other teammates, their first Tenjin Matsuri an excuse good enough to be late. Suna doesn’t mind having the hotel room to himself for the evening, a welcome novelty: he just hopes he won’t have to drag his friend out of bed the following day.

His hair is still wet, the bed way too comfortable to consider getting dressed. You, a distraction that fills his stomach with fuzzy warmth, something that for a second makes him forget why his phone has been exploding with notifications.

It’s that stupid instagram post he decided to share after a year of semi hiatus, online presence proven only by the occasional story he’d upload. Suna feels particularly caught in his feelings today, so why not post the selfie Atsumu took by the river? His comment is pinned at the top of the section, with over 8k likes.

miyatsumu brothers ❤️

Bokuto left a heart too, Samu and Kita some of their usual simple but genuine comments. Love you guys. Miss you :). It’s easy for them, a skill he wants to master as well. It’s not enough for the people in his life to simply know that he loves them, Suna wants tell them more.

He takes a look at other comments, smiling faces with heart-eyes emojis and inappropriate compliments from strangers that make him laugh. He shortly wonders what your instagram looks like. Filled with pictures of you with your friends and family, no doubt. A feed that showcases your favorite food and places, creative outfits, witty captions and sometimes no captions at all. It’d fit you.

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Osaka!!!!

-> Fuck I’m so jealous, I never got to see the festival :( did you have fun?

crysnoopy

-> I did. Some old friends are in town too, we’re playing against each other soon

Unfinishedusernam

-> Your friends are also athletes???

-> Now I feel bad, this is literally how I’m spending the evening

-> [IMG_62371]

Suna smiles upon opening the picture. You’re sitting on your couch and the hand not holding the phone is doing a V sign, a lidded tray balanced on your legs, tv channel set on a show he’s never been interested in. The lights are dim, the room doesn’t seem too big but it feels so cozy. The way a home should feel. He sees a coffee table and some lit candles by the tv unit.

crysnoopy

-> Looks like a perfect evening to me

Unfinishedusernam

-> I only walked 200 steps today.

crysnoopy

-> I’m like trying really hard to find something nice to say

-> Every morning is an opportunity to create a masterpiece called life?

-> Stop surviving, start thriving?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck you for making me laugh, I almost dropped my dinner

He laughs as well, out loud, then double taps your message to like it so that you know he’s still acknowledging it, despite something more urgent suddenly prompting the quick movement of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> Hey, remember when we talked about how you’re really scared of losing the people you love?

Suna can almost sense your surprise, it’s evident in the way the little scribbling hand appears and disappears repeatedly as you probably try to think of something appropriate to say.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Yeah?

crysnoopy

-> I feel that too

-> Most days I wake up thinking I’m a bad person

Another pause. This must be the most exposed he’s ever felt and Suna is grateful your replies are not as fast as they usually are because his hands are suddenly cold, palms clammy and disgusting.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why do you think that?

crysnoopy

-> I don’t do enough to show how I feel and one day that could make them leave

-> Maybe stability isn’t for me and that scares me

-> I get bored easily, I don't want to commit. What if what’s regular, easy for everyone else will never be my thing?

Well, that’s a whole lot of fucking baggage he just dropped on you. His first instinct is to apologize, to ask you to just forget it, deflect with some joke about having had too much to drink and being in his feels. But he doesn’t do that. Why? What makes him want to trust you with all that? Perhaps it’s just curiosity, wanting to find out what a complete stranger would think of the thoughts that eat him alive at night. Maybe he’s hoping for some miraculous solution offered on a silver plate. Or he just wants to check if he’s able to even do the whole being vulnerable thing in the first place.

Your response comes after a couple minutes and Suna doesn’t remember the last time he felt so nervous.

Unfinishedusernam

-> How did you meet your current friends?

He furrows his brows.

crysnoopy

-> Most of them I met in school

Unfinishedusernam

-> So they made the conscious decision of being your friends every single day, all this time

-> Btw getting bored easily is okay. A bad person wouldn’t be asking those questions about himself :)

-> You can always work on what you want to improve

crysnoopy

-> You make it sound too easy

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes it really is tho

-> You’re not too late, you know. Tell your friends that you love them, tell your family that you miss them

Unfinishedusernam

-> It doesn’t have to be easy right away

-> You get to make your own regular. Create your new normal

Suna exhales, reads your messages over and over again. It’s oddly comforting realizing that he is, in fact, not too late yet. Why does he always think that he is?

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I think you’ll find a person you’ll want to commit to

-> That’s what I tell myself after all my failed dates anyway lol

-> Remember, be the change that you wish to see on tinder

Suna snorts, heart lighter in the hotel room he sits alone in. He could get drunk on the relief suddenly filling his chest, it feels like the touch of a cool hand over a feverish forehead.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still there?

crysnoopy

-> I’m here

How could he not be?

crysnoopy

-> Thank you

Unfinishedusernam

-> How’s opening up to a stranger feel? :)

Good, if the stranger is you. Apparently.

crysnoopy

-> Mysteriously comforting

-> How are you failing those dates? Do I have to beat anyone up?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Nah

-> It just seems the guys I’m into are never into me

crysnoopy

-> That sucks for them

It really, truly, actually does. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt as comfortable sharing something so personal over text, it’s all so natural Suna is convinced he’d be able to do that in person as well. How would it feel to meet you? Would the magic wear out, is this so easy only because an anonymous profile on a silly app?

Sure, Suna doesn’t know your name or what you look like, but that doesn’t make you a stranger. He knows you enough for the words to almost spill out of his hands, words that press threateningly against the pads of his fingers.

He’d be into you. He’d date you. That’s what he wants to say: there’s no need to know how you look or the name printed on some documents, he knows enough. It’s a weird feeling that scares him and clouds his mind for a brief moment, as he waits for your reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s sweet of you to say!

-> Last time I went out with a guy I really liked it was a disaster

-> He also lived pretty close to me, thank god he moved now

crysnoopy

-> Well, joke’s on him. He’s missing out big time

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop being cute, I’ll fall for you

Suna takes a sharp breath. Reading the words does something funny to his stomach, something Atsumu would tease him for.

Shit, Atsumu. The game is so close. When’s the last time volleyball disappeared from his brain like that, with the snap of invisible fingers? Can he afford being this distracted?

Unfinishedusernam

-> This dinner fucking slaps btw

-> They opened a new place in my city, add that to the list of spots you have to visit if you swing by shizuoka

-> It’s called onigiri miya

Suna chokes on his own spit so badly he thinks he’s gonna die as he abruptly sits up, coughing fit that brings tears to his eyes. He stares at his screen in disbelief, sudden reminder of how tangible and close you actually are burning like a slap in the face.

Samu picks up after a few rings, it’s late enough for him to be either still in the shop or getting out of the shower.

“Hey, what’s up? Saw your pic with that scrub—”

“Did a girl come to the shop today?”, the question is uttered with so much urgency the line goes silent for a few seconds.

“My day was great, thanks for asking! I’m okay, eating dinner on your couch right now”, the fake singsong tone makes him roll his eyes.

“I’m sorry, this is an emergency. She just told me she was at your shop today”.

“Really? Did she like it?”.

“Osamu”.

He chuckles lightly.

“Okay. First, please tell me why we care so much that she came to the shop today?”.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. Sometimes he wishes he was close enough to be punched in the face. “Stop being a dick”.

“Fine. A girl did come to the shop today”, Suna’s heart almost stops, “… along with a million others”, he deflates against the pillow once again, defeated. He knows it’s something he really shouldn’t do but he still sends the picture to Osamu, slightly cropped to leave out everything that’s not useful to the investigation. The two things his friend gets to see are your dinner and a V sign.

There’s a pause, one Rintaro swears is filled by the loud pounding of his restless heart.

“I know who she is”, Osamu speaks quietly, in a tone that leaves no room for sarcasm.

“What?”, Suna’s voice comes out thin, incredulous.

“I remember her. Came in as I was about to close the shop, bowed and begged for whatever leftovers I might’ve had. She looked like she had a horrible day, so I just…”.

“Put something together for her”, as you always do.

“Yeah! I usually don’t use those trays but I didn’t have any of the regular ones left”.

“Well, how is she?”, Suna cringes at the impatience vibrating in his voice, it makes him sound desperate. Osamu hums, it’s a voluntarily prolonged sound that makes him scoff.

“She’s really sweet. Apologized a million times, left a generous tip. I think you’d like her”.

“Yeah?”.

“Yeah, Rin”, he’s smiling, “I also think you should tell her”.

“Tell her what?”.

“That you want to meet her, dumbass”.

Suna runs a hand through his now dried hair, lightly ruffles it. This feels dangerously real now, something he could grasp if he so much as decided to hold out a hand. You’re so close. There’s something else simmering underneath the fear and Rintaro recognizes it easily. It’s an almost forgotten eagerness that he’s not entirely stranger to.

“Samu”.

“Hmm?”, he’s smiling again. The asshole.

“I think I like her”.

“No shit”, Osamu full on laughs now, jovial and relieved. Despite the annoyance, Suna feels the exact same way.

Shizuoka seemed different upon his return, an endless pool of possibilities where something would inevitably remind Suna of you. He’d made peace with the fact that he had a crush on someone he’s never met and with that truth also came an endless list of associations his brain couldn’t help but make.

Texting you first, whenever he wanted, became natural. What’s more, it was almost as if you were encouraged by his newly loosened state, that one evening in Osaka opening the floodgates of something else, something different. You trusted him with your most intimate thoughts and so did he. There was no more wondering if you were bothering each other or texting at an unconvenient time. You’d once told him you felt self-conscious about that specifically.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes I feel like I’m too much

-> Would you tell me if I was too much?

crysnoopy

-> What do you mean?

Unfinishedusernam

-> You know, if I was pestering you

crysnoopy

-> You’re not too much

-> And even if you were, I could handle you :)

You were the happiest when he had told you they’d won the game in Osaka. Heck, you baked blueberry muffins (“to celebrate!”) and asked him to go get himself one so you could pretend he was there to eat yours. And Suna did: he got up from his bed, grabbed a jacket, put on some running shoes and made his way to his favorite bakery with a dopey smile on his face. He then suggested a toast and, what a coincidence, you happened to have a bottle of white wine left unopened for the longest time. The occasion seemed worthy.

And so you both ate and drank and celebrated until his cheeks felt hot and your texts started lacking proper grammar. Suna remembers how it felt, slumped on his couch, lights low and mind dizzy as his eyes blinked and blinked and then blinked again while the message sat on his screen, black against white. He just stared at it, not entirely able to discern reality from fictitious.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I wish you were here

-> I’d probly just kiss you

Suna remembers staring at his screen as a wild joy exploded in his heart and took over his entire chest, scorching and vibrant like festival fireworks. He stared at it for so long he still doesn’t quite recall if he wrote the reply or if the reply wrote itself, because the only other solid memory in relation to that moment is drifting off with an empty bottle of wine precariously balanced on his lap.

He woke up the next morning with a sour taste in his mouth, a throbbing headache and sore neck. His phone had fallen to the floor and when he picked it up, it was with a heavy heart that he noticed you hadn’t replied.

crysnoopy

-> I want nothing more

-> I’m from shizuoka too. let’s make it happen?

It wasn’t unusual for one of you to leave the other on read and it wasn’t like Suna to hyperfixate on not receiving a reply but this time, for some reason, it felt different.

As he got up with a groan and shuffled to his bathroom to take a shower, a strange feeling of dread strangled his body from the inside, his mind running a million miles a minute. Were you disgusted? Mad, that he had kept his location a secret? That would’ve been unfair, though, and you had always proved to respect his boundaries. Maybe it was all a joke, then. You thought of all that flirting as nothing short of a game, something stupid to pass the time with a stranger online. Something that wasn’t real. Worse, something you’d never want to be real, especially if given the chance to make that happen. Fuck.

Suna succeeded in keeping himself fairly busy for a few hours that day: he cleaned his whole apartment, did some meal prep, called his mom, called his sister, even called Atsumu. Your silence kept throbbing at the edges of each minute, it became so unbearable he ended up sending you a picture of an aspirin package with a funny caption, to test the waters.

You never replied. Not that day, not the following day, a week later your chat is still painfully empty. Or rather, filled with all the messages he’s sent before giving up.

crysnoopy

-> Killer headache town, population: me

crysnoopy

-> How are you feeling?

crysnoopy

-> Hey, everything ok?

crysnoopy

-> I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

-> I was really tipsy, I didn’t mean it

crysnoopy

-> Or at least I didn’t mean to sound so pushy.

-> I’d never pressure you into doing anything, let alone meet me

crysnoopy

-> I’ll give you space if you need it, can you just please tell me that you’re okay? It’s been three days

crysnoopy

-> Okay. I’ll be here if you ever come back.

He’s so mad at you. Weren’t you the first one coming forward with all that stuff about wanting to kiss him? Why would you disappear? He’s apologized, what else can he do? Was it all seriously worth so little to you?

Suna feels as if the days are longer now, training unbearable. Instead of keeping his mind occupied, all it does is remind him of how badly his blocks suck lately. He doesn’t pick up when Osamu calls, he’d read everything there’s to read in his seemingly inexpressive tone. He’s mad at himself, for not noticing how stupidly attached he’d become. Is it normal to miss you so badly? He doesn’t remember the last time he missed someone just as much. The world is cruel in relentlessly reminding him of you: an advert you’d find funny, that movie you’d recently discussed making a comeback in cinemas, sunsets painting the sky in orange and lilacs so similar to the ones you’d send him, a pair of fuzzy fox slippers on display in a shop window on the way to the gym.

The toxic part of his brain is ruthless in reminding him that this is why he refuses to open up to new people. That this is why he never lets himself be actually vulnerable and simply plays along: it’s because he’d be left with nothing but mockery, humiliation and loneliness.

But Rintaro doesn’t want to give that part of his brain any more solidity. What he wants, is to be proud of himself. Relieved, even. He wants to feel happy for having been brave enough to take a risk, to trust, to open up. He wants to relish in the joy that the brief encounter with you, anonymous and all, gave him. So what if you never come back or talk to him again? That’s on you. He’ll miss you for a good while, will probably always wonder what you’re up to from time to time, but he’ll be okay. You gave him much more than what you’re probably aware of and truth is, he’s grateful. He just hopes you’ll always be okay too, he hopes life will treat you well. He hopes you don’t regret trusting him with your most intimate thoughts, ever.

It’s not like he doesn’t reread some of your messages, to keep himself company. The most recent ones still have the not entirely pleasant effect of twisting his insides. He’ll have to delete that folder of screenshots eventually.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m so glad I stumbled over you on this stupid app btw

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re sweet, snoopy :)

Unfinishedusernam

-> Today was shit

-> Sometimes I think about how it’d be to have you here, at the end of shitty days

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop flirting with me, it’s working

Unfinishedusernam

-> I feel so slilly

-> can you evne like someone you nevee met?

Turns out, you really can. He just never fully got around to telling you properly.

And then, one day, Suna’s blocks don’t suck anymore. In fact, they’re just as good as they’ve always been. He speaks with Osamu on the phone, a little bummed that his friend doesn’t have another trip to Shizuoka planned anytime soon: the shop is doing great, his presence is no longer required as often.

“I’ll miss you”, Rintaro still remembers the stunned silence following his words, “come back soon, shop or not”.

The younger Miya twin paused his ministrations, hands sticky with rice, and offered a surprised chuckle, “I’ll be back. Ya can also take a train every now and then, ya know?”.

“Maybe I will. Hey, next time you plan a trip to Osaka, can I come too?”.

“Hell yeah. I wouldn’t have to endure that dickhead alone”.

He talks to Kita and Aran way more these days: when he thinks of one of his friends, he simply grabs the phone and reaches out with a text, a meme or a funny reel. It seems to make them happy.

When his mom tells him that Kaori has been relentlessly asking about visiting her older brother, Suna assures her that he isn’t too busy to accomodate her for a week or for however long she wants to stay. Even if he was, he’d make it work. His mom clicks her tongue, gives her approval for a weekend only, less her daughter falls behind her homework even more. He grins when he hears Kaori scream MAKE IT TWO WEEKENDS in the distance.

Suna hasn’t seen his little sister in months and despite their relationship being exhaustingly conflictual (they are way too similar to each other and she gets a kick out of pissing him off), he loves her deeply and she trusts him just as much. Sometimes being home without him can become a lot and it’s not like she ever directly admits it but he’s pretty sure Kaori misses him, the little gremlin.

He was already 14 when she was born and little Rintaro had faced the news of a new addition to the family (a female, no less!) with infinite crankiness. He huffed and puffed and complained about having to share a room and a bathroom throughout his mom’s entire pregnancy, then a pink little bundle of dark hair and eardrum demolishing shrieks held his pointer finger in her tiny fist for the first time and he swore to guard her with his life, forever.

Suna wakes up extra early to clean the bathroom and his room, which he’s going to give to his sister, and make it girl-appropriate. He always goes on a tiny shopping spree before she visits: kitchen cabinets are now filled with her favorite snacks, there’s a colorful set of strawberry handcream, lotion and lip balm on his nightstand, a sweatsuit set neatly folded on his bed, the expensive vanilla body scrub their mom wouldn’t get her sits pretty in the shower.

He texts her before heading out for practice, demands she keeps him updated about her position. Kaori send a thumbs up and the picture of the blurred view outside the train window.

Unfortunately, as it often happens, coach announces the team is required to stay longer than he had anticipated and Suna doesn’t dare explain that he’s actually in a terrible rush because Motoya has been playing like shit and, of course, that becomes everyone’s problem.

“Get it together, man”, he hisses, way less patient than usual. Komori pouts.

“I’m trying”.

“Try harder!”, Washio snickers from the other side of the court.

It’s not until an hour later that Suna can dash through the gym doors, already forty minutes late to the appointment his sister had agreed on in the morning. When he notified her about the extra training, she didn’t falter.

-> No worries, I’ll find the house.

The train station isn’t at all far from his apartment, a mere 15-minute walk, but Kaori hasn’t visited in a few months and she’s not exactly known for her acute sense of direction. She’d get lost in her own house if it wasn’t impossible to achieve that in a small two bedroom apartment.

“Why is your damn phone going to voicemail?”, Suna grumbles to himself in the middle of the street, torn between running to the station or straight home. It’s not dark yet but the sun has set and Kaori knows very well the one thing she’s never allowed to do is turn her phone off, especially if him or their mom are not aware of where she is.

Right as he decides to head to the train station first, he hears her voice. There’s someone taller with her, which makes the hairs behind his neck stand up right away.

“Kaori!”, he damn nearly trips over his own feet as he rushes towards his sister in the opposite direction, gym bag almost falling off his shoulder while she chats with god knows who without a care in the world.

“Rin”, she stops right in her tracks, “sorry, kinda got los—”

“Why the hell is your phone turned off?”, as if to underline his point, he impatiently taps on his phone screen a few times, another call interrupted by immediately going straight to voicemail. He only now realizes how breathless he sounds.

“Battery died, I forgot my charger at home”, Kaori juts her bottom lip out. She’s the spitting image of her brother. “I was lucky to meet your friend right outside the station”, she looks up and so does he, features morphing into a horrified expression. Out of all people.

“You… what?”, Suna doesn’t know what to say. Was his neighbor even capable of smiling like that?

“It was nothing! We had fun, didn’t we?”.

Kaori nods. “We fed some stray cats on the way here. It’s so weird that you had canned fish in your bag, though”.

“I always carry some! Didn’t you see how hungry Mochi was?”.

For the following seconds, Suna is incapable of uttering another word. It becomes weird enough for his neighbor to wave a hand in front of his face, brows furrowed.

“Suna?”.

“Yeah”, he replies on autopilot, “Yes. I mean, thank you. Kaori, let’s go”, he eyes his sister’s large, pink, glittery backpack. Hanging from his neighbor’s shoulder.

“Uh, actually”, his sister coughs.

“What now?”.

“I kinda need to use the bathroom”.

“You can use it at home? It’s a ten minute walk from here, let’s get going”.

“I kinda need to use it now”.

“Kaori”, he sighs, “it’s ten minutes”.

“I live right here”, the woman from his nightmares indicates the house behind her, “wanna make a pit stop?”.

“Absolutely not”, Suna clears his throat, “she can hold it”.

“She can’t”, Kaori shrinks in herself a little, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Fine, I guess we are making a pit stop”, he mutters and his sister exhales in relief, grabs his neighbor by the sleeve and urges her to open the door, quick quick quick please.

Suna watches his sister dash upstairs with a snort as he takes her backpack. It’s heavy as a rock. The hell did she put in there?

“You’re not gonna catch fire if you come in, you know”, his neighbor fixes him with a sarcastic glare as she takes off her shoes, letting her own bag fall to the floor.

“Sorry for the trouble”, he steps in at last, with a low grumble that allows a chuckle to surprise him.

“Don’t be too hard on her. She was panicking, I offered my phone but she didn’t remember your number. I asked where she was supposed to go and when she mentioned the neighborhood, I inquired about her brother’s name. Pretty lucky, huh?”, she’s not looking at him, busy taking off her jacket as well. Suna’s gaze softens.

“Yeah, really lucky. Thank you for taking care of her”.

“I also have a younger brother, I know what it feels like”, she smiles, looking at him at last, “one time we went to a festival without our parents, he thought it’d be funny to play hide and seek without telling me. I think I aged ten years that night”.

“She also used to run away so much as a kid. It’s in our blood, I was the exact same”.

“Doesn’t surprise me for some reason”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“I’m done, we can go now”, Kaori hops down the stairs, two steps at a time, then glares at her brother. Golden, foxy eyes narrowed. “You’re not being rude, are you?”.

He rolls his eyes but, before he can reply, someone beats him to it.

“He’s never rude to me. We’re friends, remember?”, Suna watches her wink with a smile so warm. Is that really the same person he runs into almost on a daily basis?

Astonished, he witnesses that little, usually quiet, reserved gremlin smile back at his neighbor. Then, remembering how important formalities are in their family, she thanks her with a deep bow. It’s only then that he notices them: fox slippers. Cute, pointed ears, bushy tales and everything.

They both jump when the steel water bottle hits the parquet flooring, Kaori dramatically clutching her chest. “Can you not be a weirdo for five seconds?”.

His neighbor (could it be…???) furrows her brows in genuine confusion. “I think volleyball finally started affecting his brain. Better take him home”.

“Yeah. Let’s go, loser”.

“Shut up, be thankful mom’s not here”, he fires back, fake annoyance to cover the fright that gnome’s actually caused. Suna’s heart is racing for an entirely different reason as he takes another furtive look at those slippers while pushing Kaori out the door, mind racing.

He is completely, absolutely unable to focus. Over dinner, he distractedly listens while his sister paints vivid pictures of boring classes, the art course their mom wants her to give a chance to, the latest fight she had with her best friend. He asks questions and fails to register the answers he gets, over and over again. It’s a relief when Kaori sprints to the bathroom, calling the shots for who gets to shower first. Suna is left rinsing the plates, with a brain that can’t think.

Would it be possible? You’re from Shizuoka. You have those exact slippers. You always feed stray cats. God, the fucking slippers. What are the chances?

He could call Osamu, ask a few questions. Instead, his sister’s voice keeps chipping away at what’s left of his sanity.

Your friend’s cool. I wish my teacher was that nice.

A teacher. Could kids be the wearing but rewarding humans you often mentioned?

He goes back to that disastrous dinner, desperately trying to recall how the conversation felt. What did they even text about prior to that evening? Was that woman as charming as you are? Fuck, he doesn’t remember a single word exchanged that evening. He just remembers being an asshole.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes”, from her comfortable spot on the couch, Kaori watches her brother march to the front door, then bend down to put on the same shoes he wore a few hours before, “lock the door, don’t burn the house down”.

“Where are you going?”, her brows are knit in confusion, never in worry.

“None of your business. Lock the door”.

“Sure, sure, bye”.

“Right now, Kaori”, something in his weirdly brisk tone makes the fourteen year old pause the show she’s watching, not without a dragged groan, and get up from underneath the blanket she had stolen from her brother’s room.

You’re so ready to go to bed early and declare the day officially concluded.

Work was tough, managing a new classroom of overexcited kids had proven to be particularly difficult. Between the increasing pressure from school administrators and the daunting task of creating engaging lesson plans for the new semester, you felt a heavy weariness threatening to swallow you whole.

As you brush your teeth, tired reflection staring back at you, he worms his way back into your thoughts once more. Saying that hearing his name and then seeing him again was unexpected would be an understatement: you were absolutely convinved (and thankful) he had moved. Where the hell did he disappear for over a month? Just to come back and show up like the annoying, irritating nuisance he is. One you can’t seem to whisk away.

Your date was one of the most disappointing nights of your life. Suna, the guy you had talked with for days, the same Suna who was so witty, intelligent and nice, was also just so blatantly uninterested. Bored. He didn’t even make the effort to ask about your day, eyes distant whenever you tried to initiate a conversation. And of course, because life hates you, you have to be reminded of that night every single day because you now see him every single day.

What’s more, you had failed the one person you’ve been able to feel interested in after that big, fat disappointment. Someone who just found himself trapped in the crossfire of your thoughts and stupid, stupid fears. Someone you were selfishly not ready to have so close. Someone wonderful who didn’t deserve your self-serving worries.

You’re already in your pjs when the doorbell rings multiple times, so insistent you almost trip down the stairs as you hurry, terrified that you’re gonna have to face an emergency with pandas printed on your pants.

“What the hell?!”, you instinctively step back as he leans forward, his entire weight resting against the doorframe.

“Sorry, I know it’s late”, Suna takes a deep breath but it’s not really needed. Prior warmup or not, he isn’t at all affected by the sprint through which he covered the distance between his house and yours. “I just had to… hey, can I come in? I’m probably gonna have a heart attack if I don’t sit down”.

You’re staring at him wide-eyed, completely startled.

“Yeah? Sure, come in! Is your sister okay? Did something happen?”, you’re quick to push the door closed as he heavily flops on your couch.

“No, no…”, Suna seems distracted for a moment, eyes scanning the room and zeroing on your tv, which is currently turned off. He stares at it for a while, then lets out a small laugh. “Actually, maybe it’s better if I stand up”.

“Suna, are you on drugs right now?”, the question is serious but his eyes, now fixed on you, don’t reveal any particular emotion besides genuine… amusement?

“I need to tell you something”.

The odd idea that he might be hiding a knife somewhere underneath that leather jacket crosses your mind for a split second.

“Sure…?”.

“When my sister was a baby, she’d cry a lot. I legit thought my ears would explode at some point”, he weighs the words carefully as he approaches you and, for some odd reason, you don’t take a step back. “She’d cry so much, all the time. And then, one day, I brought home a snoopy plush I won at the arcade. It became the one thing that would always shut her up”.

It feels like someone’s toppled a bucket of ice cold water over your head. Suna is standing so close while looking at you in a way you’ve never witnessed, a way so uncommon for him. You can’t focus on the desperation in his eyes and you’d never guess the hopefulness simmering behind a gaze that seems to be discovering you for the first time.

“It’s you”, barely a whisper, but it’s all the confirmation he needs. The relief in Suna’s exhale is intense as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. Thank god he does, because your knees feel so wobbly.

It’s a weird sensation, being pressed against him, hanging onto his shoulders for support. He’s warm and smells so good, of bergamot and musk. Your brain can’t quite comprehend that he’s the person you’ve been talking to for the past months.

“I missed you. I’m sorry”, he confesses in the curve of your neck and the words dissolve underneath the thin fabric of your pjs, slowly sink into your skin and bones. “I’m so sorry”, he says again, carefully pulls back to look at you, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. Mirth flashes across his features for a moment. “Hey, are you about to throw up?”.

“No, of course not!”, you take a tentative step back but he doesn’t trust your stability and keeps a gentle hold on your arms, “why are you apologizing? I disappeared. I should be the one… I should be…”, Suna’s gaze softens, one hand rising up to touch your face but then freezing mid-air, deciding against the risk of freaking you out even more.

“Please don’t cry”.

“What?”, you retort, “I’m not crying. Ew”, but when you touch your cheek, it’s shocking to find it wet. What the fuck.

“Oh, god. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, a dry chuckle bubbles up from your throat, “listen, there’s no pressure on you. I’m sure this is a real disappointment so, like, we can pretend it never happened and just go on with our lives. I won’t—”

“Are you sure it’s you? The person I’m looking for is pretty clever”, he attempts a smile when you frown, familiar at last. “You think I’d leave my sister alone and race all the way here for a real disappointment?”.

“I think you just wanted to corroborate”.

Suna rolls his eyes, incredulous. “Well, I corroborated. I’m only gonna pretend it never happened if that’s what you want, because it sure as hell isn’t what I want. If you even care about that”.

You angrily wipe your tears, cheeks burning scorching hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you to be so close. I freaked out. I’m freaking out right now because you’re even closer, apparently”.

“Are you disappointed?”.

You look at him, really look at him. His dishevelled hair, naturally narrowed eyes, the bridge of a perfect nose, full lips forced in a severe line. He’s searching for something in your gaze, with fierce determination. How can one person’s eyes be so penetrating? You feel naked, exposed. Vulnerable.

“No”, you reply, sincere, “no, I’m not”. If only you could feel the relief taking over his chest. “But… what now?”.

Suna feels as if he’s seeing you for the first time and, at the same time, it’s like he’s recovering something important, something precious. He’s already trusted you with some of the most important, hidden parts of himself. He hasn’t liked someone that way in such a long time and he’ll be damned if he lets this chance pass by. Again.

He’s not too late. Why does he always think he is?

You curiously watch as Suna takes his phone out and spends a few seconds tapping on it with a smile he can barely hide.

The familiar ping of a notification you haven't heard in weeks makes you stutter.

crysnoopy

-> Now we do this right.

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #hq x reader

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marysfics · 16 hours ago

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Through the Dust

Alexia Putellas x DownhillRacer!Reader

Status: Ongoing

Other Chapters: click here

This is a multichapter fic, and trust me, you’re in for one wild ride. Warnings: Awkward Fluff, Mentions of Grief.

Word count: 2.5k

Chapter 4: ''In the Quiet''

It had been four days. Four days since you’d last seen Alexia and the Barcelona team, and the emptiness of that absence weighed on you more than you cared to admit. The buzz of excitement from the past few days had faded into the hum of routine, and it left you with an aching quiet that seemed to follow you everywhere you went.

You knew why they were missing. Pre-season had kicked into full gear, and the Barça team was no doubt entrenched in their training, pushing harder with each passing day as the new season loomed. It made sense. They were preparing for the challenges ahead, just as you were. But it didn’t help the gnawing disappointment that sat heavy in your chest, the kind that you didn’t know how to shake. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this silence.

It wasn’t just Alexia you missed; it was the feeling of her presence—the way she’d looked at you that day on the football pitch, that unspoken tension that hung between you. It wasn’t something you could define, but it had been there, so real, so palpable.

You tried not to dwell on it too much. After all, you had more important things on your mind. Tomorrow was the day. Your third World Cup race. Your first time ever with a real chance of winning. But the pressure of the race wasn’t enough to completely drown out the ache in your heart. The excitement was there, sure, but it was mingled with an undercurrent of restlessness.

The feeling of wanting something—or someone—and not knowing how to reach out, how to bridge the distance between the two of you. You had checked Alexia’s social media a few times since your encounter. Her posts were filled with training footage, behind-the-scenes shots of the team, the usual inspiring captions that made your heart flutter a little more than they probably should have. It was stupid, you knew. It wasn’t like she was going to slide into your DMs just because you liked one of her photos. It felt ridiculous to even think about asking for her number, and yet, it was the question that refused to leave your mind.

Every time you thought you might work up the courage, something held you back. The fear of looking too eager. The fear of rejection. And so, you sulked, pacing around your hotel room, feeling like a ball of restless energy. You couldn’t focus on anything for long. You were too keyed up for tomorrow’s race, your nerves buzzing under your skin like electricity.

You had worked hard for this moment. Harder than you’d ever worked in your life. But now that it was here, it felt like you were fighting with more than just the other riders. You were fighting with your own doubts. Fighting with your growing feelings for someone you barely knew.

You tried to push it all to the back of your mind as you prepared your gear for the race. The bike needed adjustments, your uniform needed a final check, and there was a mental checklist a mile long. But every time your hands lingered on the straps of your helmet, your thoughts drifted right back to Alexia.

Her smile. Her laugh. The way she looked at you with those eyes that seemed to see right through the surface and into something deeper. Every little thing she did, every glance, every moment—had become a part of the constant hum in your mind.

You could have sworn you saw her in your dreams last night. Just for a moment. She had been standing at the edge of the trail, looking back at you with that same soft, knowing smile that had been lingering in your memory ever since. It felt real, and yet, you knew it was just your mind filling in the gaps.

But it didn’t matter. Because the truth was, you had to focus on tomorrow. You had to focus on the race.

You couldn’t shake the nerves, so you went out for a walk through the fields near the hotel, hoping the familiar act of gathering flowers might calm you. The air was still, the soft chirps of evening birds and the rustle of leaves helping to quiet your mind. It was routine by now—this quiet ritual before each big race—an unspoken way to carry a piece of your sister with you.

You knelt down near a patch of wildflowers, carefully picking a handful of bluebells and lavender, when you saw movement out of the corner of your eye. You looked up and, to your surprise, spotted Alexia standing a few feet away, watching you with a curious expression. Instinctively, a smile spread across your face, and you felt a little rush of excitement just from seeing her there, so close.

But there was something different about her today. The warmth in her gaze from before was replaced by a guarded expression, her posture stiff as if she were keeping her distance. You hesitated, not quite understanding the shift, and in that moment, she took a small step back.

“Hey, I… didn’t know you’d be out here,” you said, trying to sound casual, hoping she’d warm up.

She tilted her head, her eyes shifting to the flowers in your hand. “I guess I didn’t expect to see you, either,” she said, her tone a little colder than you’d ever heard it.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I always pick flowers before a big race,” you explained softly, glancing down at the small bouquet in your hands.

Alexia’s lips twisted slightly, her gaze lingering on the flowers, and she crossed her arms. “Nice tradition,” she said, almost absently. “They’re beautiful.”

There was an edge to her voice that you couldn’t quite place, and suddenly, it all started to click. You realized what this must look like—how she was eyeing the flowers with what looked like barely concealed jealousy, her words hesitant and a bit sharp.

“Oh… these aren’t for anyone—at least not like that,” you said quickly, trying to dispel her assumption before it took any deeper root.

She just gave a small nod, her face unreadable. “Right,” she said, still sounding a bit skeptical, a hint of a wry smile flickering on her lips. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.”

The thought of her leaving made your heart sink, and before you could think too much about it, you blurted, “Actually, would you like to come with me? I mean… just for a walk.”

Alexia hesitated, eyes narrowing slightly, and you saw her defenses waver. She studied you for a long moment before nodding, her gaze still uncertain. “Alright. Just for a bit.”

You led her down the narrow, winding trail, the fields giving way to a shaded grove as you approached the cemetery. You didn’t say much, sensing that she wasn’t in a talkative mood, and a heavy silence settled between you. The closer you got to the cemetery, the more you felt a shift in her—like each step was weighing on her more heavily than the last.

When you reached the iron gate of the cemetery, you felt her slow, her eyes moving over the headstones with a hint of reluctance. You stopped, turning to look at her, noticing the tension in her shoulders and the way she clenched her jaw.

“I come here a lot,” you said softly, wanting to give her some context. “My sister… she passed away last year. It helps me, coming here and… talking to her.” You looked down at the flowers in your hand, feeling your throat tighten a little.

Alexia’s eyes softened instantly, the guarded expression melting away as understanding dawned. “Oh,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She seemed to be processing it, her fingers brushing against the iron gate but not quite gripping it, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to go in.

You could feel the moment stretching between you, charged with something fragile and deep. Reaching out, you gently took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to come in if it’s too much,” you murmured. “I know it’s… not easy.”

She glanced down at your hand in hers, something vulnerable passing over her face before she looked back up, meeting your gaze with a soft but weary smile. “No, I’ll come in,” she said quietly, squeezing your hand back. “I’d like to meet her.”

You knelt beside Elena’s grave, the quiet settling around you like a warm blanket. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze and the soft chirping of evening birds filled the silence, and for a moment, you simply closed your eyes, taking it all in. You placed the flowers carefully, arranging them so they’d sit just right, hoping they’d capture a bit of your heart and the wishes you’d carried with you.

“Hey, Elena,” you whispered, your voice low. “I… I brought you flowers. And, uh…” You hesitated, glancing over your shoulder at Alexia, who stood a few steps behind, giving you space but close enough to hear. Your cheeks warmed as you looked back at the headstone, lowering your voice a little. “I also… brought someone with me today. I think you’d like her.”

Alexia seemed to freeze at that, her gaze fixed on you, but you focused on your sister’s name etched in the stone. It brought a bittersweet feeling, the memory of how she used to urge you to open up to the world more, to share the parts of yourself you often kept hidden. You could almost imagine her voice in your head, teasing you gently for finally meeting someone who’d made an impression.

“I haven’t shown her the mountains yet, but… I think I’d like to,” you murmured, feeling a little shy, a little hopeful. “I know you’d understand.”

You took a shaky breath, brushing a hand gently over the flowers you’d laid down. “I think you’d be proud of me,” you whispered, your voice soft and filled with the kind of honesty you rarely allowed yourself to say out loud. “I’m actually letting someone in, like you always wanted me to. You’d tease me about it if you were here. I can practically hear you now, laughing and calling me out for being so cautious.”

You looked back at Alexia, who was watching you with a tenderness that made your chest ache. Her eyes had softened, and something unguarded was beginning to shine through—a glimmer of empathy, of shared understanding. But there was something else there, too: a hint of emotion she seemed to be holding back.

“You know, it’s strange,” you continued, glancing back down. “Meeting someone new… it almost makes me feel closer to you. Like I’m honoring you by trying. I’ve been so closed off since… since you left, but—" You paused, swallowing hard, feeling the familiar sting of grief mixed with something new, something fragile.

“Thank you,” you whispered, as if Elena could hear every word. “For pushing me to open up, even now.”

There was a long silence. When you looked up, you noticed Alexia’s eyes had grown misty, her usual steady gaze softened by the weight of your words. She quickly blinked, trying to compose herself, but you could see her lower lip trembling just slightly. Her walls had cracked, and it was clear your vulnerability had touched her in a way she hadn’t expected.

“Thank you for… bringing me here,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat, looking away for a moment, and you caught the faint shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. “This place… it’s so much a part of you, and I… I feel honored to be here. To meet her.”

You felt your own emotions bubbling up, raw and open, and reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away; instead, she held onto you as if finding strength in the simple touch. For a moment, you both stood there in silence, connected by something unspoken—a quiet understanding, an acceptance of the weight you each carried.

“Thank you for coming,” you said, your voice gentle, feeling a new, quiet resolve. “It means… it means a lot to me.”

Alexia squeezed your hand, her gaze softening even further. “I’m glad I could be here,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “And… if you ever want to talk to her, to bring flowers or just… be here, I’d like to come with you. Anytime.”

As you walked back down the narrow path away from the cemetery, the air felt thicker, heavy with emotions neither of you had spoken aloud. The silence that settled between you was soft and comfortable, and Alexia’s hand remained in yours, her fingers interlaced with yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

After a few minutes, she gave your hand a gentle squeeze, her gaze flicking to the mountains stretching out in the distance. “So… about showing me the mountains,” she said, her voice light but carrying a hint of something deeper.

You felt a warm blush creep across your cheeks, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I was hoping you’d still want to,” you replied, glancing down at your joined hands before daring to meet her gaze. “There’s so much up there that I’d love to share… places that Elena loved, trails that remind me of her.”

Alexia’s expression softened, and for the first time, you saw that look again—the one she’d given you the first day on the trail, but this time, it was layered with an understanding that ran deeper. She nodded, a gentle smile on her lips. “I’d like that,” she murmured. “I think she would, too.”

The two of you continued walking, the quiet hum of the world around you filling the spaces where words weren’t needed. There was a feeling of peace in the air, a mutual understanding that felt new yet familiar, as if you’d both been waiting for this moment without even knowing it.

As the hotel came into view, she paused, her hand still holding yours, her eyes scanning the fading sunlight cast over the mountains and the fields beyond. “Thank you,” she said softly, turning to look at you. “For today. For… trusting me with that part of you.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of ease settle in your chest. “Thank you for coming with me. I think I needed this more than I realized.”

She gave a quiet smile, and for a moment, the two of you simply stood there, wrapped in a moment that felt fragile yet grounded, tethered by all the unspoken feelings lingering in the air.

“Tomorrow’s a big day,” she said finally, her voice a mix of encouragement and something that felt like anticipation.

You nodded, exhaling a soft breath. “It is.” Then, summoning a spark of courage, you added, “Maybe after the race, we could… find a trail or two? Just the two of us?”

Alexia’s smile grew, her eyes lighting up in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “I’d love that.”

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

End of chapter 4.

Please let me know what you think of it so far 🫶.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas imagine #alexia x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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sorsaky · 23 hours ago

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Mae x Noa → Sailor Song |Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes| MV

youtube

You are stronger and smarter than you think

Another Noa x Mae edit! These two are just my ultimate OTP—ahhh! This was a quick edit inspired by listening to Sailor Song, and I felt it perfectly matched their vibe. It's a simple edit without too many effects, but I think it captures the mood of the song well. Plus, it's my contribution to Nomae Week. Hope you enjoy it!

Just to clarify, I don't support bestiality or zoophilia in real life. This edit is purely for fun and creative expression, celebrating the fantasy world these characters belong to. Shipping fictional characters is a common and enjoyable part of fandoms, and if it's acceptable for movies like "Beauty and the Beast," then it's also fine for Noa x Mae!

Program: Sony Vegas Pro 17 Song: Gigi Perez - Sailor Song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lrFsXkT_rM Time Taken: 3 hours Media: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kdr5oedn7q8

planetoftheapes #kingdomoftheplanetoftheapes #noaxmae #nomae #beautyandthebeast

You can contact me here:

instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sorsaky/

"Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use."

@nomae-week-2024

#planet of the apes #kingdom of the planet of the apes #noaxmae #nomae #youtube #kingdom of the planet of the apes edit #fanfiction #noa x mae #noa x mae edit #nomaeedit #nomae week 2024 #nomaeweek #Youtube

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gotta-winwin · 17 hours ago

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OT13 Reaction -- to you having a fan account

SCOUPS:

he finds it so incredibly adorable that you have a fan acc dedicated to them. he follows it from his burner acc asap, adding it to his list of accs he checks daily. is so surprised when he finds out that he's actually been following the account already, having been using it for updates on seventeen. amazed to know you're the one behind @ svtfanclub.

JEONGHAN:

teases you about it every chance he gets. he insists you're sooo obsessed with him and everything he does. you have to start second thinking everything you post about him, knowing even the smallest thing might set off a firework of omg you're sooo in love, at least hide it better. ik, ik, you can't help it. i'm irresistible. smirks when he sees you typing on your phone, fingers already itching to save the post before you've even posted it.

JOSHUA:

has a dedicated saved folder just for your posts. saves every single one to look back on later. brings them up in daily conversation randomly - you guys could be talking about what to have for dinner and he'd throw in a soooo i saw your latest post, the one with my photoshoot pictures~ turns red whenever he sees you thirsting for him online.

JUN:

singlehandedly turns your svt updates fan acc into a svt meme acc. he sends you exclusive photos of the members whenever he can, urging you to turn them into memes and to post them. cackles reading all the comments and only ever sends you good pics of himself. he refuses to be caught lacking.

HOSHI:

remember when hoshi spammed weverse with horanghae? he will 100% steal your phone and do that on your fan acc. accidentally stirs up speculation about whether or not you know hoshi or if you're trolling your followers. insists you post one photo of him a day, resulting in the acc being more of a hoshi shrine than a svt fanpage (oops.)

WONWOO:

lowkey impressed how routinely your updates are despite your busy life. he's a little embarrassed by some of your more....enthusiastic posts, but he appreciates the amount of love. ends up adding the acc to his phone so ya'll can run it together. he handles all the nomination updates and real other stuff - allowing you to spend your time posting more fun content about the members.

WOOZI:

doesn't really get the point of it. he does his best to understand the hows and whys of running a fan acc, ending up just telling you how much it means to him that you're supporting his work. gives you exclusive mini interviews about his creative process and songwriting, leaving your followers wondering where on earth you're getting these insider info.

MINGHAO:

touched when he notices you have dedicated posts to him and his art projects. scolds you whenever he sees you interacting with haters, reminding you that as much as he appreciates you defending them, violence is not the answer! he's always there to remind you whenever he feels like you need a break for social media, turning off your phone for you and proposing a day out.

DK:

cries as he scrolls through your posts, not being able to take how thoughtful and supportive you are. clings onto you the whole day after he finds out, whispering how much he loves you and how much it means to him. turns on notifications for your posts and smiles whenever he sees them.

MINGYU:

accidentally likes one of your posts thirsting over him with his main acc. panics and deletes it but it's too late - the ever-watching carats have spotted him. sends millions of followers swarming to your acc and he can only shrug when you confront him about it. claims its for media and promotion purposes. sends you exclusive gym pics and thirst traps for you to post - although some of them are too spicy so you keep them to yourself.

SEUNGKWAN:

has that iconic shocked expression when you tell him before taking out his own phone and showing you that surprise! he has one too. the two of you now sometimes coordinate your posting times and interact with each other in the comments. he will tsk with disappointment if a post doesn't met his standards. competitive ass turns it into a competition.

VERNON:

he's not surprised. you seem to know like everything about seventeen already, so it's only natural you help inform other carats! he'll send you trends he thinks you should incorporate into your acc and provides you with behind-the-scenes pics. gets you vip access to any event so you can grab those up close shoots of him and his members - nepo baby(?) at its finest.

DINO:

his ego is boosted to the max when he finds out. loves that you found a way to love him loudly despite your relationship being private. giggles to himself (although he'll never admit it) whenever you post about him and sends your posts into the svt gc for his hyungs to see.

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proshippers-against-censorship · 1 day ago

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This is long and Idk how to put this, but antis seem to have this strange... obsession with fictional characters they can pretend are kids. They put this idea of innocence on a pedestal because they need to "white knight" them. But if they try that with kids and teens they'll be treated as weird and told to stay away from them or the kids/teens will act against their expectations, making them realize they're REAL and have their own personalities and wants that won't align with theirs and break the antis' delusions. But with characters they can make them helpless, force them to be helpless and more importantly, keep them that way, making them need antis to protect them. Antis can be their heroes and get praise and admiration from them. And they can force them to always be in danger, always need them. That's why they couldn't care less about people, even kids, but are so gung-ho about characters. And why they're only focused on sexual things. People are sadly used to violence these days, and the religious idea of "sex being a sin" is also commonplace imo, and these characters are used physical danger so they can save themselves. But sex is a "bad thing" and something they can pretend the characters aren't used to even if they're high schoolers, so antis can swoop in, saving them from a "traumatic experience" earning the characters' worship for however long they want. Being an anti is an ego thing, it's not about being a good person or about morals, it's purely and inherently a self-centered idea created solely to allow the person to feel special. Since most antis are teens, Idk if they're scared because they realized how uncaring the world can be and took the idea that you have to make your own meaning too far in the wrong direction, or, as the cynic in me believes, they grew up on social media which made them develop main character syndrome and have a severe lack of empathy for anyone but themselves. If all this makes sense. Idk, I'm just spit-balling because I don't understand how being an anti is the hot new trend among the youth even though proshipping is the standard and how things have always worked, and the world didn't end, murderers and pedos didn't increase in numbers, because again, the proshipping stance is how it's always been but antis are suddenly trying to create a problem where there's never been one and keep trying to force reality to conform to their fantasies. I just don't understand how people could look at the world and then genuinely believe the world works the opposite of how it actually does, like flat earthers. And Idk why so many kids would fall for this nonsense and why antis are so commonplace nowadays. Imo, antis just...really need therapy cause it feels like they have this debilitating NEED to be a modern fairy tale hero you know?

I sometimes wonder if being an anti is a final, desperate bid for control after a lot of them realize that life isn't exactly something that can be controlled to the extent they want it to be.

#proshippers against censorship #jackal barks #proship please interact #proshippers please interact #proship positivity #proship #proshipper safe #proshipping #proshipper #anti anti #ask #asks #pro stance

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wildwolf-fandoms · 2 days ago

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I never was this angry about something, especially an animation media but omg i saw the leaks

WHAT DO YOU MEAN SIR PENTIOUS WEBT TO HELL JUST BECAUSE HE DİDN'T STOP JACK THE RIPPER???? AM I TRIPPING? DİD I MISUNDERSTOOD IT??

ARE TELLING ME THEY TOOK THE NAME OF A SERIAL KILLER WHO NEVER BEEN CAUGHT, RUINED SO MANY LIVES ABD STILL ANONYMOUS TO THIS DAY; JUST SO THEY CAN MAKE A SOB STORY ABOUT THEIR FUCKING SERPENT OC??? ARE YOU TELLING ME TURNED THE TRAGEDİES OF VICTIMS, WHOS SOULS/GHOST WATCHING US RN, ABOUT THEIR MAN BABY ANGEL UWU CHARACTER???

THEY COULD HAVE MADE A FİCTİONAL KILLER, THEY COULD'VE USED FİCTİONAL VICTIMS. THEY COULD'VE USED A FİCTİONAL NAME. BUT INSTEAD THEY USED REAL TRAGEDİES!!

So where is Jack, huh, Vivzie? What happened to him? İs he at Hell, waiting to be redeemed because he has a sob story, or is he at Heaven already, redeemed and enjoying second life or whatever? Where are the souls of his victims? Do you think they will be happy to see their killer who got away with and given an anonymous name at the same place as them? Will Jack attend to the Hotel too? Will we watch him make violent and horny 2020 vibe jokes on screen too? While also being a skinny blonde with a suit, bowtie and having an Alastor the Second type of personality? Will he fight Lute and go "I'm Jack and i'm gonna end your fucking life"? Will he get "redeemed" two episodes later and his victims will be all sunshines and smiles?

Pls True Crime Community is already disrespecting victims right and left, we don't need to witness Vivzie's shit ass show to do the same too 😭😭

#badger posts shit #hazbin leaks #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin critique #anti hazbin hotel #anti vivziepop #hey btw if you try to defend this decision ill not only delete your commet but also block you too #shocking news: other peoples' pains aren't about you even if it been centuries since it happened

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anistarrose · 2 days ago

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Saw a post that I do agree with — about how moving your activism primarily offline and engaging with people in real life is so much more impactful than angrily riding your horse into another round of online discourse, especially now. But at the same time, I want people — especially disabled people, and otherwise involuntarily isolated-feeling people — to know that there is activism you can do online, or otherwise from your home, that's different from reblogging a snarky post, and more impactful too.

The example I'm always obligated to talk about is online accessibility, and especially, writing image descriptions — an act that both directly makes posts more accessible to blind and low-vision screen reader users, and raises awareness of image descriptions to promote accessibility indirectly but in the long-term. This is disability activism; it is making a previously inaccessible space accessible and implanting disability accommodations at the forefront of people's brains.

As a chronically ill autistic person, the barriers to getting involved IRL are hopefully surmountable in my personal case, but not easily or quickly surmountable. However, the barriers to me writing image descriptions are much lower — and in fact, as a disabled person myself, I'm passionate about the topic, and that makes it easier for me to focus on. I subscribe to the burnout-prevention advice to make a list of a very few issues, tailored to your strengths, that you pledge to put your whole ass into, with a less selective list of issues you can pledge to do a little bit about when you have the resources.

Image descriptions are my personal Whole Ass Into It issue. They are, quite simply, the action I am personally best-equipped to take to make the world a tiny bit less shit.

And it might not be that kind of issue for you! I desperately want people to be aware of the possibility, but it may not play to your strengths — or, it may fit better as an issue you can make occasional contributions to without focusing on. (What might occasional contributions look like? Maybe just describing your own posts, and getting in the habit of checking the notes for IDs when you're on Tumblr. Or maybe just choosing one type of image to always describe that feels manageable for you — screenshotted tweets, maybe.)

But maybe you're not the best at interpreting images, and it would better play to your strengths to write transcripts! Maybe typing is tiring for you, or social media is bad for your mental health, but leaving the house still has barriers, so you find an opportunity to phone bank for a particular issue! Maybe you volunteer with a voter registration help line, next election. Maybe you stay on Tumblr but you adopt a fundraiser, or join a charity zine. Maybe you need to garden very slowly and steadily, to take care of your body, but you can grow some native plants, and strike up conversations with your neighbors about it, if you get the chance.

At the end of the day, I think two things can be simultaneously true: getting involved offline can be contextually much more plausible than a lot of people realize, and it can still have barriers for people with certain disabilities or other circumstances, while people lacking those circumstances may not notice. Luckily, there's no one mold for what activism looks like. Analyze your strengths, treat your limitations with compassion, and get creative about how to help.

#accessibility

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canonicallyobserving911 · 9 hours ago

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Review of Episode 8x7 "Hotshots"

Before I delve into this I want to make two things crystal clear. First, I understand 9-1-1 is NOT the Buddie show but the reason I started watching it was because of the shooting and Buck's and Eddie's dynamic. Therefore, since I primarily watch for Buck, Eddie and Chris, I want to see movement in their storylines. Second, I enjoy 9-1-1 as a whole, it's the only show I watch on a regular basis and I like all the main characters. I've watched every episode since season 2 and I even watched a few from season 1 but since it's not my favorite, I don't revisit them unless I need to make GIFs.

I'm indicating this upfront so there aren't any misunderstandings because it's one of the first things people say when someone criticizes an episode. Everyone interprets media differently and people watch for different reasons but their reasons for watching doesn't negate their opinions about an episode or a season. Therefore, it would be great if people stop using the "It's not the Buddie show" excuse when they want to dismiss other people's criticisms because two opposing opinions can coexist. The truth is for some, 9-1-1 hasn't been great for a long time. Therefore, just because one person likes it and they believe it's great that doesn't mean everyone else has to agree and vice versa.

Now let's get back to the regularly scheduled program...

IMO, last night's episode WAS NOT GOOD. The editing was poor, the pacing was off, there were entirely too many guest stars and they completely overshadowed the main characters. It gave seasons 5 and 6 vibes and I didn't like it one bit. The episode didn't even qualify as "filler" for me and it shouldn't have been included in 8A since the mid-season finale is next week.

Since my review of 8x7 "Hotshots" will primarily be NEGATIVE, I'm putting it underneath the cut but it will be a fair and balanced review and I will include information about all the main characters.

Let's get started.

Bathena

I'll start this section with Bobby and Athena because I believe their retirement arcs are being reestablished from the beginning of season 7 but it was horrifically horrible the way it was handled.

Athena's been a sergeant for years and the last time her and Bobby talked about retirement, I mean really had a conversation about it was in season 4 and she said she wasn't ready. But she's four years older now and while that may not seem like a lot of years to some, when someone has a demanding job like hers, there are bound to be some challenges. Her leg being injured while she was trying to catch Flash Rob could have happened to anyone and it doesn't matter their age, however my issues with her storyline ARE MANY and each one is valid.

First, it would have made sense to see her talking to Bobby on-screen about how she was feeling. As someone who's counseled people preparing for retirement, her storyline should have been handled with more dignity and respect. IIRC, Athena's close to 60 years old and the retirement age for people in the LAFD is 55 (so they can start collecting their pension), therefore it would have been better if she sat down with Bobby and shared her concerns about what she wants to do. However, instead of getting that, the audience saw her talking to Hen about it which is cool because FINALLY, after 84 years of them not having any best friends time, they talked but at the same time, it would have been helpful for women struggling with a decision like hers in real life so they could see how to approach it with their spouses or significant others. Second, Sparks was a hothead, she knew it but her captain was too concerned about the amount of money the city spends to train them. She should have listened to Athena and if she would have then that innocent woman wouldn't have been shot in front of her daughter.

PSA: I live in the U.S. and tempers have been palpable here for the last 9 years and with everything that's getting ready to happen in 10 weeks, this IS NOT THE TIME to air an officer involved shooting on TV. It was in bad taste especially with everything that's going on and that has happened in the past. I'm a woman of color and flashbacks of four years ago came to mind and I really didn't need to see that on my screen. I live blogged and my post after it happened proved that I was in shock.

Bobby's nightmare with the "Hotshots" TV show continued and what a cluster f~ck that was. First, the new chief is a jerk (I said it last season when he took credit for the cruise ship rescue) and he's a spinless jellyfish. It IS NOT Bobby's job to do the chief's job but he laid it in his lap and told him to handle it. WTF? He did it because he knew Bobby wouldn't say anything but the chief should have met with Gerrard and explained what was happening. Instead, he sent Bobby to clean up the mess. While I'm on the subject, who replaced Gerrard with a pod person? He was so unrecognizable it was ridiculous. Second, why was Brad allowed to job shadow with Bobby after all the mess he's caused? Buck, Chimney and Hen (I'm not including Eddie because in 6x1 he said he didn't want Bobby to ask him about being captain) are all right there and Bobby's NEVER offered to let any of them job shadow with him but there's a rude actor who throws his weight around on set and he just gets to do whatever TF he wants? Ridiculous! Third, it appears their setting up Bobby's retirement arc too but why don't they do better by him and Athena? Let them sit down and discuss their career goals. They're building a house so why not let the audience hear them say what they plan to do once it's finished?

OAN: Where is Harry? He was recast last season but he hasn't been back since.

Henren

Hen was barely in last night's episode and even though she had two episodes this season, why has her arc come to a standstill? In 8x5, her and Karen were arguing about Hen working so much especially on the holidays but it was wrapped up with a line from Karen, "I'm glad you were working." 🙄 Since they have two kids at home, it would be nice to see Hen talk to Bobby about working a flexible schedule or adjusting the schedule so they can work rotating holidays. Reminder, Madney's getting ready to have a baby (I'll talk about this next) which means Chimney might go out on paternity leave so there are some things that should be discussed to prepare the 118 for whatever is going to happen. Also, what happened to Hen and Chimney's friendship? They haven't been shown as besties since before season 7. I know Madney stepped in to help them with Mara but it seems like the showrunner replaced Hen and Chimney's dynamic by pushing Henren and Madney storylines together. All four of them were always friends but Chimney and Hen have a ride or die friendship and I'd like to see more of that again. I'm not counting the argument they had in 7x2 about having each other's back because that was a big nothing burger.

Madney

Maddie and Chimney have been relegated to the back since their wedding in 7x6 and used to help Henren keep Mara but once they finally got a storyline of their own (Maddie's pregnancy) it was once again put on the back burner so Maddie could worry about her brother. She's his big sister but she was holding back their good news because she didn't want to make him feel bad. There was a better way to handle this and it sadden me especially after all that Madney went through with their first pregnancy. Granted Buck figured it out and he was happy for them but they deserve to celebrate this pregnancy. It's good news and they shouldn't have to hide it from anyone. While I'm on the subject, I'm happy for them but at the same time, last night gave season 4 vibes and it seems like Maddie's pregnancy will be used to bring the horrible and emotionless Buckley parents back. TM is doing a repeat of season 4 so IMO, Phillip and Margaret will be there in 8B before Maddie gives birth and it seems like it'll be another "Love me anyway" moment for Buck and another rude comment from Margaret about Maddie's age but we'll see.

Chimney hasn't had a storyline all his own since the engagement ring debacle in season 6 (I'm not counting 7x6 because Doug was in it and that was a CHOICE). I'm really hoping they won't sideline him and just make him be the dad again like they did in season 5. KC deserves his own storylines just like the other mains and it would be great if he could get them. Also, I miss his friendship with Hen.

Buddie

Buck is still trying to get over a breakup and I get it, I really do but he didn't know that dude from a can of paint and he spent the entire 6 months doing the same thing he always does and that's identify himself via the person he's with. He did it with all his previous love interests, therefore, it would be nice to see Buck take some time and do some retrospection on why his relationships always fall apart. I'd like to see him ask himself why no one wants to stay. What is it about him that makes them want to leave? Until he answers those questions, he'll remain on the hamster wheel. I know I'm in the minority but I don't want to see Buck going on any dates or hooking up with random people because he has attachment issues. He doesn't know how to separate them like some people do and his first scene in season 1x1 proved it. He had sex with a woman he met on an app but when he tried to get to know her, she told him he was good at whatever they just did but she didn't want to ruin it by getting to know him. That's been his entire existence on this show and I'm ready to see Buck grow. Sure, he stressed baked and that's cool or what not but I would have liked it better if he actually looked at his past to see what he's been doing. It's not healthy for him to identify himself through the eyes of someone else. Furthermore, when is ANYONE FROM THE 118 going to tell him the truth? Family should be able to share the good and the bad so why hasn't someone suggested he do that? I know Maddie deals with him like she's wearing kid gloves and I'm not saying they need to tell him everything but someone should suggest he take a step back from dating at least until he figures out what he wants. Does he want to get married? Does he want a family? No one knows including Buck because he's never said it. He did tell Eddie he loves kids but IIRC, he's never admitted if he wants to have one of his own. Additionally, Buck should have these conversations before he gets in too deep with someone or else things will end up like before. He was on a different page than all his previous love interests and it was clear they wanted different things but they NEVER TALKED ABOUT IT AND THAT'S F~CKING FRUSTRATING.

Be clear, Eddie is my favorite character and I'm frustrated with the way his storyline has been handled this season. For six years, his arcs have been sidelined and made about Buck but the one season when he finally gets an arc of his own, it's pushed aside and not focused on. I didn't expect last night's episode to be Buddie centric but what I did expect was to see more movement in Eddie's storyline. We haven't seen him attempt to talk to Chris but once and that was in 8x1. Why hasn't he taken a quick trip to El Paso? Newsflash, GM doesn't have to be in the scene the same way he wasn't in 5x17 when Eddie and Pepa went to Texas for Ramon's retirement party. I want to see some movement on this front because Eddie's a great dad and it doesn't make narrative sense for him to be helping Mike reconnect with Weston when Eddie hasn't been shown trying to visit his own son. He said he didn't want his parents raising him so what is happening here? Are they just going to let Helena and Ramon raise Chris for the next year? This is unacceptable on all fronts. Also, what does Eddie do besides go to work? Other than showing him dance to "Old time rock and roll" in 8x6 and him packing away his Halloween decorations in 8x5, NO ONE knows what he does when he goes home. They don't have to show it but it would be nice to hear him say he went to a class or he took a weekend trip. It's not fair for Eddie (Chimney too) to be sidelined in favor of others. While it's true a lot of his screen time was wrapped up in Buck's relationship, Eddie deserves to have his own storyline and I for one was excited to see him happy. It appears that's over until 8B and who knows what kind of BS they'll throw in there within four months.

Finally, I want to talk about my overall impression of last night's episode. Why were there so many guest stars when people we know and love haven't been seen? Where's Ravi, Linda, Sue (she was in Aisha's birthday video) Detective Ransone, Detective Romero all of the others that have guest starred on the show? They brought a rookie cop on for one episode and it was asinine. Flash Rob could have been a no name actor since they didn't really do anything with his character.

I want to see the main characters grow professionally and personally. If they don't, it'll be the same old same old and the show will continue to struggle. People get bored when storylines are rehashed and they aren't moving so TM needs to move their stories along before viewership falls any lower than it already has.

I don't have any hopes for next week and if it ends like 6x9 did, on a dud, I won't be surprised.

This is my overall review and I expected more from last night. The editing was sloppy and a lot of the things included in the promo were cut for who knows what. I wanted to see Buck and Jee-Yun baking but that was maybe 20 seconds. I also wanted to see less of Brad and if he ends up working at the 118, then WTF? It seems like TM is setting it up so he can change careers at an older age but I don't want that. Grow the MAINS WHO ARE THERE NOW BEFORE SOMEONE ELSE IS ADDED TO THE DAMN CAST.

I'll end this here because I'm getting frustrated just thinking about what may happen for the remainder of season 8.

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