#samu social

[mictol]

Chronique du 115

Aude MASSOT nous invite à une immersion au cœur de la rue et de sa réalité la plus brute : les clochards. Créé en 1993, le Samu Social propose son aide aux plus démunis. Une soupe, une douche, des soins ou encore une orientation vers les instances sociales, voici les actions menées quotidiennement par ses salariés. Mais aller à la rencontre des gens de la rue n’est pas forcément évident car…

[prokopetz]

My first thought upon seeing that "sweaty Samus" post that's doing the rounds is that a lot of the folks making horny comments in the notes are going to be real disappointed when it turns out that the inside of a suit of powered armour smells less like a gym locker and more like a combination of diesel fumes, boiled piss and burning metal.

My second thought is that, upon consideration, some of them probably wouldn't be disappointed after all.

[splitontendo]

haikyuu characters as facebook posts

giving no contex, enjoy ;)

ft hinata, matsukawa, hanamaki, atsumu, bokuto, osamu, and sakusa!

hinata

mattsun

makki

atsumu

bokuto

osamu

sakusa

[gentle-hero-blog]

oouuuuuuugh my god. ough my god. adam malkovich you guys

[kitasuno]

with you, i'm first | miya osamu x reader

in which miya osamu is used to coming second to his brother. but with you, he's always first.

wc: 1113 | gn!reader | fluff

Miya Osamu is used to coming second. 

It starts with Atsumu, like most things do. October is cold and gray and Atsumu comes first, a small body with a large presence that fills the warm hospital room. His cries are loud and he’s a little underweight, but with him comes the sun. 

Atsumu is born under a partly cloudy sky but the nurses swear he was shrouded in sunlight. 

Osamu comes twelve minutes later. His parents are crying and his Ma is close to passing out. If he thinks really hard he can almost feel her warmth, Atsumu’s sobs, and a mumble of prayers that October has safely brought Atsumu and then Osamu.

He asks Grandma one day what the weather was like when he was born. She says, with confidence, it was foggy.

Atsumu doesn’t get along with his classmates. He is too loud and too rash and lacks social cues, and Osamu is angry because Stupid ‘Tsumu cares too little: and he wants everyone to know Atsumu like he knows Atsumu.

They fight and they yell and they argue until Atsumu says, 

‘Samu, I don’t care about ‘em. Why do ya care so much? 

And Osamu throws him across the room. The argument ends there, he says sorry, and Osamu lies awake that night thinking about his brother. Atsumu is hotheaded. And an idiot. A loud snorer, too. But he turns on his side and curls into a ball because he knows it was sunny when Atsumu was born and all of a sudden he really wants to be his brother. 

Atsumu dyes his hair first: it’s a shitty box dye from the pharmacy down the street, and it looks terrible. It’s a little yellow and a little neon, and Osamu laughs until his sides hurt when Atsumu shows him. 

But Atsumu is proud, and he is confident, and he goes to school with a hundred watt smile and a group of girls trailing after him. 

Osamu goes to the pharmacy that night and buys a box of gray, cloudy dye. Atsumu helps him bleach his hair under their bathroom sink with the faulty tap and tells him he looks like the moon.

His Ma says that Atsu is hot and Samu is cold after the two have a particularly bad fight. Atsumu is gleeful and smug as he gloats that he was born to be hotter and warmer and better, and Osamu punches him. 

He remembers his Ma sitting on the porch, an arm around his shoulders as he pouts. 

“‘S not fair,” Osamu had said, his chin in his palm. “Why’d ya name Tsumu that?” 

His Ma had laughed, quietly, leaning her weight into his side. And she had held his cheeks between her palms and told him with a fire in her eyes that Osamu means To Rule. 

He meets you for the first time in February. 

You were standing in front of him, a little sheepish, with a box of chocolates in your extended palms. He remembers feeling something heavy in his chest. Because, yeah, Atsumu was definitely going to accept your confession. 

You had said, IReallyLikeYou, and Here’sSomeChocolates, and Please Accept Them. 

You were shorter than him, and your hair was done nicely, and you were blushing and nervous. And you were really fucking cute. But Osamu is used to coming second, so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is, Why? And then, Tsumu’s in tha next classroom ov’r. 

He doesn’t remember what happened next, only Atsumu’s laugh and the slap echoing through the halls. You leave with his cheeks stinging and hot. And Atsumu had teased him the next day, behind his mountain of chocolates and confessions, because Osamu’s face was still red twelve hours later. 

He sees you a lot the year after. 

You’re in the same class as him and ‘Tsumu, and you smile every time you see him. You sit two rows in front of him and you’re not very good at tying your uniform. Every lunch, Osamu watches you pull out the same gray bento with a wrapped onigiri on the side. He tells you one day that he really likes onigiri. And then, Osamu watches as every lunch, you pull out the same gray bento with two wrapped onigiris on the side. 

With you, it’s always Hi Osamu, first, and then, Hullo Atsumu. With you, it’s an onigiri dropped on his desk when the lunch bell rings. With you, Osamu thinks back to a conversation with his Ma on a porch. 

Osamu means To Rule.

The menu is this: Tuna mayo on Mondays and Thursdays, Ume on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Friday is plain. You don’t ever bring onigiri for his brother. 

He asks you, on a hot night in June, what your favorite type of weather is. You had your knees tucked to your chest, a sparkler in hand, and then told him cloudy. Cold. Foggy. Winter. Snow is nice, too. You say it all with no hesitation. 

Osamu kisses you for the first time that night. 

It’s New Years and you’re cooking Ozoni on the stove. The curtains are open, it’s snowing outside, and Osamu wakes to the smell of miso and the sound of carrots on a chopping board. He gets out of bed, padding to the kitchen with half-lidded eyes and a stifled yawn, and then he thinks his heart stops when he sees you. 

Because what Miya Osamu is not used to is this: coming first and having something unequivocally his. 

But you’re bent over the counter, fiddling with the oven as you read the instructions on the back of the packaged Yakimochi you bought the other day. And you’re wearing his shirt, it falls right below your thighs, your hair is still messy from using his chest as a pillow, and you look beautiful. 

“Mornin’ ‘Samu, come help me with this.” You say, looking back at him with a smile, pointing to the fresh pot of rice on the counter. “You’re in charge of onigiri.”

He hugs you instead, his arms around your stomach with your back to him. 

“But I like yer onigiri,” He says, his chin on your head. His eyes are watering and it must be from the steam of your boiling dashi. 

“‘Samu,” You complain, giggling as he presses kisses into the crown of your head. “I made enough for ya in high school.” 

It’s cold outside and snowing, and Osamu knows he’s going to make the onigiri. 

He also knows that if his name means To Rule, he’s okay with coming second if it means you’re by his side.

[sun4r1nnity]

"samu,"

osamu rolls his eyes the moment you call out his name, while a grin spreads across your face as you throw yourself on the couch next to him. he knows your intentions and what you're about to say, because you've been pestering him about it for days. that damn dyson hair dryer.

osamu didnt think that he'd be one of the victims of what people call the equivalent of ps5 to women. hell, the social media really has a bad influence on his wife. last time something like this happened is when the internet going crazy about those stanley cups, and it rubbed off on you too unfortunately. "sooo... i've been thinking..." you say, trailing off as you trace circles on osamu's chest. "thinkin' about what, exactly?" he inquires, already aware of the unspoken conclusion in your words.

"you know, maybe... if we should get a hair dryer. i mean, wouldnt our life be better with it? like, its a beneficial stuff," you say, avoiding eye contact with osamu, making him chuckles at your act. "enlighten me," he prompts, with a smirk on his face as he leans back on the couch and rests his head on his hands. he felt amused seeing that stupidly cute pout on your face as he waits for you to whine about that hair dryer you've been wanting.

unbeknownst to you, osamu would buy you the whole world if he can. he'd get you anything you wanted, because he gets to see you happy and show his love to you by spoiling you. so, it quite goes unnoticed when a notification pops up on his phone screen, informing that the dyson hair dryer he ordered few days ago will be delivered today.

[neiptune]

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.

[kittydied0-o]

HER ME OUT... BSD MEN (expecially dazai), WITH LIKE A VERY 'WIERD' S/O LIKE SOMEONE WHO EVERYONE CONCIDERS AS WIERD AND SOMEONE WHOS NOT AS GOOD AT SOCIALIZING W8TH PEOPLE THEY DONT KNOW SOMEONE WHOD LIKE ACCIDENTLY SMASH THEIR HEAD ON A PIPE AND THE JUST CONTINUE WALKING TO NOT BOTHER ANYONE💥💥💥🙏

What was that...?

Chuuya x dazai x atsushi x akutgawa x Fyodor x nikolai x sigma x Poe x Rampo X reader ! SEPARATE !

Warnings: none :p

Please do not repost my work! Reblogs and support is greatly appreciated!!

Tysm for this request anonnie 💞

An: I forgot what the subject for this samu was like halfway through. Erm

[6okuto]

laughing at the thought of osamu's younger staff suggesting that they should record some videos for their social media that's pretty barren, only used for the occasional promotion or new products. they ask samu if they can record him making onigiri since he's the owner and all, so it makes the most sense—shows everyone he's hands-on and a big part of the success. and he says sure, not thinking too much of it and hoping for the best.

the video blows up, and onigiri miya finds itself much busier than usual. osamu is even shocked by a few customers asking to take pictures with him. it isn't until atsumu texts in the afternoon and says something about the great thirst trap promo LMFAO does he realize that his tight-fitting black uniform, expertly framed and showing off his arms/chest, played such a huge role in views and interaction

[elizais]

when you know, you know.

when they realise just how much they love you ft: dazai, chuuya, jouno, sigma content warnings: reader isn't a hunting dog for jouno's button divider by v6que, dog divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more

dazai knew he loved you, from the get go. but, it was a random tuesday when it hit him how much he loved you.

your favourite author was releasing a new book, you were buzzing about it all of last week and it would be released in your local bookstore on the same tuesday. you spoke about your excitement often as the day approached but when tuesday finally came, you were on an emergency mission in the neighbouring city.

you and ranpo were in kamakura for the day, ranpo solving a couple crimes and you stopping him from getting beat up by his lack of social cues.

when you found out you would miss getting the book, you were disappointed but masked it by saying "'i'll just order it and wait for it to ship, don't worry!" to your boyfriend, osamu. he saw right through it though and made a silent promise to himself to get it.

once his shift ended, he made kunikida drive him to the bookstore (you took the car to kamakura because of the mission). a long queue was stood outside the door but he knew he would have to endure it.

waiting the hour and a half to get in, he rushed past the crowd to grab the last hardback of the book that was beginning to drive him insane. when he stepped out after paying (with kunikida's card, of course) he saw it was absolutely pouring it down.

torrential rain all over yokohama. the paperbag he was carrying the before mentioned book in would not last a minute. checking his phone for how long it would take to wait it out, he saw that it was not an option. it would last all night and you would be worried sick about where he was when you get home in an hour or so.

so, he made the decision to take off his coat, and wrap it around the book. he began to run back to your shared home, it was on this run he realised how much he truly adored you.

his blue striped shirt clung to his body, his bandages so soaked they were beginning to fall down. he mentally cursed whatever god controlled the weather, joking to himself about making a mental note to get chuuya to pass on the message.

when he made it back, out of breath and drenched, he saw your car in the driveway. you were already home. you must have not been home for long because as when he opened the front door, you were only just getting changed. your hair was wet from the shower and you had the towel in your hands to partially dry it.

"hello, love!" he smiled, hair flat yet frizzy from the rain. his clothes sticking to his skin as his jacket was bundled in a ball under his arm.

"where were you, osamu dazai?" you pressed a kiss to his wet face, pretending to scold him by using his full name. you began putting a hand onto his hair and making it look even messier.

"well, if you must know.." he teased, "i had to pick something up." he watched your face light up in realisation at what he had done, gathering why he was soaking wet.

"no you didn't! 'zai, you did not." you gasped, switching his last name into the nickname only you were allowed to call him - even if you were one of the only people to be able to call him osamu. osamu only chuckling as he moved to place his jacket on the countertop of the kitchen, unravelling the ball.

he handed you the book and analysed your face as it contorted through pure excitement. "oh my god! 'samu i love you so so so much!!" you placed the book down and practically jumped into his wet body. your arms found their rightful spot, hugging around his neck and his arms around your waist.

"i love you so much too, but now we are both wet.." he faked a frown, unable to hold back his smile.

chuuya was always enamored with you. nothing less. but he particularly knew it when you were keeping an eye on elise.

he knew that this wasn't the most realistic thing in the world, her only being an ability after all. but even if she wasn't exactly real she always wanted to hang out with you, do your makeup, put hair clips in your hair.. and you never said no!

so when mori called chuuya to his office to discuss some paperwork, he knew you had been hanging out with elise as elise ran in to mori - dragging you along behind her.

"yes, and this was when-" chuuya was interrupted by two girls giggling after the sound of a door opening. "rintaro!! look at what [name] let me do!" elise smiled, urging you to spin around. you meekly smiled at chuuya in your dollified-by-a-child state. sheepishly spinning around, chuuya saw your new look.

hello kitty stickers on your face, bright blue lipstick smeared on your lips, sparkly barrettes throughout your hair and a dodgy braid to top it all off. mori chuckled at the sight, meanwhile chuuya stifled his laughter to not insult elise. mori nodded at elise, a silent 'well done' at her work, she took that as enough, but she wanted chuuya's reaction.

"mister nakahara? doesn't she look good?" elise asked your boyfriend, pulling you next to him. a shit-eating grin on the little girl's face.

chuuya smiled at the sight, "she's never looked prettier! you have done a great job, elise." elise put her arms on her hips proudly and smirked. "can i dress her up for your next date??? pleaseeee??" elise begged the pair of you.

before chuuya could answer, you turned to your boss, still a little bit awkward with barging in to his office.. "i'm so sorry, mori, please, let me get out of your hair!" you tried to apologise and leave with a bit of dignity before chuuya pulled you back. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, an exaggerated "ewww!" coming from elise.

chuuya crouched down to elise's level, "sorry, you just made her look too pretty!"

everyone knew of jouno as a sadistic man. but for you something was different. when you first met him, he treated you with indifference. just another witness for a case that you were brought in to speak to the hunting dog's about.

but soon after, god knows how, you both started dating. whilst the hunting dogs had only met you when jouno had, they had no real idea of what the two of you were like.

but then, you come to their HQ again for who knows what, you instantly start teasing the man who teases everyone. a truly odd sight for his comrades.

quick pieces of flirting disguised as banter are chucked back and forth,

"your heart rate is through the roof." ... "like your ego?".

if they didn't know any better, they would have thought you hated each other.

when you two eventually stopped poking jabs at each other, you explained why you were there and gave jouno his lunch. a teasing "aww" from teruko came from across the room before jouno pinched your upper arm. you instantly pinched his shoulder back before taking a few steps back, trying to stop yourself from giggling at his frustrated face.

it was an odd scene to say the least, somehow, somewhere, a person existed that snuck her way into jouno's heart that could snatch his hat right off of his head, slap him with it... and he wouldn't be angry.

a person that tugged on his cape when stood behind him to annoy him, and started pinching wars with him.

saigiku didn't know when it happened, but it did. and he knew he loved you when you would relentlessly tease him back rather than giving in and letting him torment you like everyone else.

sigma had only been on this world for 3 years, yet he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his time on it with you the moment he saw you darting across the sky casino doing jobs on a busy week.

it was an abnormally busy time, and someone must have brought in a bug because sigma was not feeling well in the slightest. he was confined to his office and you promised him that you would get all of the manual/in person work done for him.

you had to beg him to let you do this for him, so he could rest. and it was all worth it when halfway through a day of signing paperwork he checked the cctv. a miniature, on screen you was helping out the customers of the casino, pushing boxes back and forth with your colleagues of course..

he realised just how much of a blessing you are. he felt as though his eyes were becoming heart shaped as he watched you, forgetting about the stack of papers he had to sign off.

an older woman approached you, too far away from the camera for him to make out what was being said but the both of you ended up sitting down at an empty table. the table was right by another camera so he could continue watching.

you reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a deck of cards, sigma smiled to himself when he saw it was the fancy deck of cards you had stolen from nikolai as punishment for tormenting sigma. to be fair, nikolai must have stolen them from somewhere too.

sigma did begin to feel bad for watching you, even if there was no malicious intent behind it. he chuckled when he saw you demonstrating to the woman how to riffle shuffle cards, taking a break from your duties to entertain her.

he must have been enthralled by the scene for the better part of an hour as you patiently taught her magic tricks too. he could tell you had been learning from nikolai.

it was this simple moment that really made him fall for you, your kind nature being displayed perfectly.

[kdinjenzen]

Do you prefer Samus' hair tied in a ponytail or let loose?

I want a buzzcut haitstyle Samus Aran with crowsfeet and dark circles around her eyes, scarred up to hell and back, and is socially awkward as hell.

[ashboy-3]

Smash or Pass

Fandom: Danny Phantom and Batfam Prompt: https://www.tumblr.com/help-i-need-a-cool-username/719653067055906816/ashboy-3-please-tag-me-whenever-you-post-it?source=share Characters: Danny, Sam, Tucker, Jason, Batfam Words: 1908 Summary: Danny refuses to sleep and gets stopped by a reporter. Not fully knowng what she aks when questioning him about Red Hood Danny answers with a simple Smash. Now if only his crush Jason Todd would pick up on the social cues.

“So what’s the game tonight?” Danny asked, looking at the screen of the video camera to see Tucker and Sam staring back at him.

“Are you sure Danny. Isn’t it like ten over there?” Sam asked, worry clearly on her face.

“It’s not a good night for sleep Sam. Please. You two both have the day off, right?” Danny asked.

“Yeah we do dude. So I was thinking Smash or pass?” Tucker threw the idea out there.

“Oh that’s a good one. What should we do it on?” Danny asked.

“Super smash bros? It has Smash in the name?” Tucker suggested.

“Then we should totally do Pokémon!” Sam had an evil smirk.

“Oh you are both so on!” Danny quickly agreed as Tucker quickly found a full list online of the Super Smash bro fighters, sharing his screen and making sure to record, if anything for future black mail reasons.

“Alright first up Mario,” Tucker announced, both his friends knowing that he would rather be the impartial party and narrator while they have their fun.

“Pass.” Danny and Sam voiced.

“Donkey Kong.”

“Pass,” Danny quickly said.

“Smash!” Sam was quick to say as the two looked at each other.

“You want to smash a giant monkey?” Danny questioned.

“First off he’s a gorilla, second you can’t tell me that he doesn’t fuck,” she quirked her eyebrow at him.

“Fair enough,” Danny yielded holding up his drink to take a sip in her honor.

“Dude that’s water,” Tucker rolled his eyes.

“Don’t’ remind me. Who’s next!”

“Link.”

“Smash” Tucker rolled his eyes at his two friends.

“Sometimes you two are so predictable. Samus.”

“Pass,” Sam waved her off.

“Smash. Let her fuck me up, in or out of that suit!”

“Dark Samus?”

“Same,” they both agreed, to keep their answers from last time.

“Yoshi.”

“Smash!” Sam yelled out, Danny thinking about it before he to agreed.

“Why am I friends with you two? Kirby?”

“Pass,” Sam said as Danny thought abot it. “Yeah pass. I feel like Kirby is to innocent. And dude who else would you be friends with. Hit me with the next one!”

“Fox and Falco.”

“Pass on Fox smash on Falco,” Sam decided. “Pass on both,” Danny shook his head.

“How could you smash one but not the other? Their the same thing?” Danny asked.

“First off their not. I feel like Falco is more bad ass. Second, I don’t want to hear that argument when we get to pokemon.”

“Fair enough.” Danny agreed.

“Speaking of Pokemon I’m skipping them in this list since that’s our next list,” Tucker skipped the image of pikachu. They both passed on Luigi, Ness, Captain Falcon, and jigglypuff.

“I would so smash princess peach, daisy, and Rosalina. Line them up!” Danny cheered.

“Really Peach? I would only smash Rosalina. She at least had a story line,” Sam rolled her eyes.

“Bowser?”

“Smash the fucking hell out of me!” Danny cheered.

“Okay I know I’m a monster fucker, but are you sure you’re not one?” Sam asked him.

“I have never actually thought about it,” Danny shrugged. “But you still didn’t answer the question?”

“Of course, I’d smash Bowser. Pass on Wario, Waluigi, and Dr. Mario,” Sam rolled her eyes, a smile on her lips.

“Yeah, I can agree with that statement,” Danny shook his head in understanding. “We are passing on the ice climbers?” Danny asked.

“Of course!” Danny agreed. “and you know I’m smashing Sheik and Zelda!”

“Smash Sheik pass on Zelda.”

“You are aware that their the same person right?” Tucker asked her.

“I’m very aware. Sheik could kill me and Zelda is a broing princess. I know what I want in a partner.”

“point taken,” Tucker stopped his fight as he ended up pushing next multip times. Danny and Sam both agreed to pass on the fire emblem charctrers along with young link while Smashing Ganon.

“Mr. Game and Watch.”

“Pass,” Sam said quickly.

“I’d smash. I feel like he could give me a fun time. You saw how he handles that hammer. If I’m lucky he’d use it to pound me,” Danny smiled, making both of his friends laugh.

“You know Danny I agree with that statement and that’s why I’d smash meta knight.”

“To much armor for me,” Danny said, making Tucker snort.

They passed on the Pit’s, kept their same opinion on Samus and landed on Snake.

“Extra Smash!” Danny and Sam agreed.

They kept playing, ending pretty quickly with mostly passes. Danny wanting to smash Bayonets,, Ridley, and King Roll. Sam was agreeing with that list adding Isabella, claiming that she must have some evil dark side to her. This led the group to the pokemon list.

“Do we want to start with Gen 1? Or just go into chaos?” Tucker asked, knowing his friends answers as he got up the list for Gen 9.

“I’m being honest if it’s got three evolutions, I’m most likely not going to smash the first evolution. The second and third are still up for grabs,” Danny set down his rules.

“I can agree with that. So we passing on Sprigatto, Quaxly, and Fuecoco,” Tucker mumbled to himself, making sure to skip thoses options.

“I’m Smashing Floragato, Meowscarda and crocalor from the starters,” Danny stated.

“Chicken,” Sam snorted. “I’ll take your grass started and your fire second evolution and raise you a Quaxwell.”

“I feel like it’s only going to drown into madness from here,” Tucker groaned, knowing it’s not even midnight where Danny is yet and there are nine generations of pokemon.

“How can you not Smash Spidops!” Danny asked frantically.

“Are you kidding? All it does is shot webs. If I wanted to fuck something that shots webs I would fuck spiderman,” Sam rolled her eyes.

“You. . .bring out an excellent point, but I’m not changing my answer!”

“Smashing Arbolliva!” Sam slammed her hand on the desk.

‘Damn girl! I am right here! If you don’t want me then just say it,” Tucker teased her as Danny laughed.

“Smash. Samsh. Smash Ceruledge,” Danny was cheering, Sam cheering with him.

“You know it makes sense that the two of you dated in. highschool, but I can clearly tell why you two were never going to work,” Tucker observed.

“And why is that?” Danny asked, quirking his eyebrow.

“You have to similar of taste.”

“No way in hell you’re actually fucking Grafaiai. Sam do you just have a thing for monkeys or something? “Danny asked.

“I’m not the one who’s ready to throw a party for Toedscruel. I thought we agreed no judging?” She glared.

“Oh know we are judging. I think I’m the one who’s judging the worst,” Tucker laughed.

“That doesn’t count. You only have eyes for Sam. I can’t even recombed a person looks hot and fuckable to you without you saying Sam’s better,” Danny groaned.

“Yep and it’s nice to see that my girlfriend does not have the same standards for me,” Tucker was looking towards her, a playful smile on his lips. He knows she loves him and that he’s not being serious.

“Ah shit guys! I gotta go and get ready for class!” Danny said after hours of playing the smash or pass game. They did eventually make it through all of the Pokémon, but now it was 7 am and Danny had to run to get to campus and stop at his favorite coffee shop.

“Make sure you stay awake dude. If you need to skip class I can write you a doctor’s note,” Tucker said.

“I’ll be fine. I just really don’t want to sleep right now. I should be better by tonight,” Danny said bye to his friends, changing into a different shirt, making sure to grab his jacket, wallet, and keys before leaving his small apartment.

Danny loved living in Gotham, but sometimes the hustle and bustle of the city can be chaotic and stressful, especially on the days when Danny could possibly be late for class, sleep deprived, yet to have his coffee and some report is stopping him to ask him question.

“Opinion of Red Hood?” was the only thing Danny heard the reported ask.

“Smash,” was all Danny could think of as he quickly walked into the coffee shop to get his black coffee with 12 extra expresso shots. Did is taste good? No. Did it wake him up? Absolutely.

Danny didn’t realize the absolute chaos he had caused till he was back home from his classes, Sam and Tucker spamming him with memes of what he did.

Seeing no other option but to go along with it. He found the original clip that tucker sent him a link to, tunrs out the news station put it up on twitter, and re retweeted it with just two words. “I’m right.”

Meanwhile on the other side of Gotham Dick is dying of laughter as he discovered the most hilarious news clip on the planet and proceeded to send it to every single person in his contacts and to every group chat that he’s in, just in case he didn’t have someone’s contact number saved.

He even found the clip being retweeted by the same guy who claims that he’s still right with someone else tagging it #plsdon’tkillhimmr.redhoodsir.

He was making fun of Jason for it especially because turns out his brother knows the guy in real life.

“Grayson what does he even mean when he says smash?” Damain asked as Tim and Dick were making fun of Jason at the cave.

“I have to agree with Damain. The video makes know sense,” Bruce agreed.

“I’m not explaning this,” Tim quickly grabbed his coffee and walked out of the batcave.

“No it!” Jason declared running upstairs, face fully red, Dick not far behind him.

“Why is it always me,” Duke groaned as Bruce wayne lifted a questioning eye brow up at him.

“Please don’t make me explain it,” Duke begged, but sadly when Bruce Wayne wants to know something he will know something.

“Keep making fun of me for this and I will no longer show up to family dinner,” Jason glared at his older brother.

“Aww. You know you can’t avoid Alfred forever,” Dick teased.

“Shit you’re right,” Jason groaned, knowing he was going to have to put up with his brother’s teasing no matter what.

Before anyone knew it Wednesday was upon them, which meant that Danny and Jason finished their only shared class and walked out together to get lunch.

“So did you see your famous news clip?” Jason asked, not able to look Danny in the eye.

“Yeah. I swear this I say the craziest shit when I’m sleep deprived. I stand by what I said though,” Danny got up from the table to grab his order.

“You’re not worried about Red Hood finding out or anything?” Jason asked, seeing a chaotic look within Danny’s eyes.

“Jason, I want nothing more than for Red Hood to come and find me. Hopefully then I’ll get my wish,” Danny smirked up at him, hoping his friend would catch on to the signs.

“Well one can always hope,” Jason gave an awkward laugh as Danny sighed.

Jason may be a bat, but Danny has a feeling that he’s as hopeless as he is when it comes to picking up on romantic cues. At this rate, it’s going to take a miracle to get Jason to realize that yes Danny has feelings for him.

@help-i-need-a-cool-username @spookytragedyshark @weirdfishy @meira-3919 @akikkobara @yjfk@shorterthanadverage@mistyaltair @seraphinedemort@princessdaisysolosyourfaves@idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit@thatonegaybitch68@fuck-you-too-world@stargirl1331@blackrabbitt3t@staresatyoufromaccrosstheroom@f-theworld

I think that was everyone that wanted to be tagged. I personally feel like this could you a second chapter. If I ever do decide to do that then I would definitely add more Jason moments than just having him in here at the last moment.

[heich0e]

do reader and sunaosa’s families know about their relationship? i ask bc my cousin came out as poly earlier this year and i had to call my 70 year old father before a birthday party and explain to him what polyamorous meant. fun conversation

mama miya knows, and she's accepting of it. samu didn't really hide it from her, but he did take some time to think about how he wanted to tell her. more than anything, what weighed on his mind was that after he told tsumu—and that happened pretty much immediately—he was effectively asking his brother to keep something from their ma, and that just didn't sit right with him.

but even though he took time to tell her, and was concerned about finding all the right words, it all came out rather plainly in the end. in the middle of an otherwise unremarkable conversation over a meal in the house she raised him in, osamu opened with the whole 'hey ma, just so you know i like girls and also i like boys', rounded it out with 'also i'm dating the slouchy kid you've been seein' me hang around with since i was a teenager', and finally brought it home with 'and i'm still crazy about the girl ya like so much, but just so you know she and rin are datin' each other too.'

it took a bit of processing on mama miya's part, and no one can blame her for that, but at no point was she unkind about it. she asked some questions, found no fault in her son's answers, and ultimately came to the conclusion pretty quickly that even if she doesn't totally understand something that doesn't make it wrong. she didn't love her son all these years just to give up on him for choosing the thing that makes him happy.

(years down the road, the twins joke that she threw a bigger fit about them dyeing their hair in their teens than she did about osamu coming out. she laughs with them.)

suna and his parents aren't very close.

his mom and dad divorced when he was in middle school, but they never really liked each other much to begin with, so it wasn't like it came as a shock. after the split, he went to live with his dad in an apartment a few towns over, while his sister went to live with their mom at their grandparents' house. suna doesn't talk much about this point in his life, and doesn't really remember it in any great detail, but he doesn't feel resentful or particularly weighed down by this part of his past.

rintarou moved into the inarizaki dorms in his mid-teens, got his first apartment after graduating while he did his brief stint as a uni student, and has pretty much been on his own since. as an adult, his relationship with his dad is pretty distant—even as a kid they weren't particularly close, since his father was never really a man of many words to begin with. he doesn't talk to his mom much at all, either—maybe a phone call if something notable comes up in the extended family, a card sent in the mail on a birthday, that kind of stuff. nothing terrible or horrible ever happened with either of them, and he has no hard feelings about it, his family just was never really much of a family to begin with.

the only one he ends up telling about you and samu is his little sister. she's the only member of his family he has much of a relationship with, having stayed in touch with her over the years, and properly reconnecting as they both got older and gained proper independence. she puts most of the pieces together herself over time—she sees pictures of you and samu both on his social media, and the ones up in his nagano apartment, she hears him talking to you on the phone every so often and notices how soft his voice is when he speaks to either of you—and then when she finally asks he doesn't deny it. she's accepting of it right away, and isn't all that fazed by it to be honest. she's known samu for ages, since he and rin have been friends all these years, and he's always treated her like a little sister anyway, so she takes no issue with it being "official" now. she likes you a lot, too (having met you a few times prior to your relationship being revealed, where you were introduced as osamu's girlfriend,) and begs rin to let her spend more time with you once everything is out in the open—and rintarou never says it, but that makes him really happy.

[loreleywrites]

To me, the core of Samus and Gandrayda's relationship is that Samus saw a hottie who was forward enough to approach her, but Gandrayda saw a socially awkward beefcake she thought she could manipulate into liking her.

The problems arise when Gandrayda learns that Samus is awkward and naive but also stubborn and smart. When "I'm gonna fool around with this beefcake" becomes "Oh no, she's so sincere that I've actually fallen for her," it's too late for Gandrayda to try to save the relationship because Samus has finally figured out why she's gotten so uncomfortable around Gandrayda.

And when the ship sinks faster than the Titanic, there's a lot of intense emotions and broken hearts. Oodles of regret. Anger that never dissipates, just simmers under the surface.

When they reunite in Corruption, Gandrayda paves over all that with an alienating playfulness. Samus keeps her mouth shut and does her damn job; professionalism is armor plating against the pain.

At the end, when Gandrayda screams for help, powerless to stop her imminent demise, it takes every mote of willpower Samus can muster not to turn around and try to help her.

That's Samus and Gandrayda to me.

[sweetlyvibe]

“you ain't my boyfriend, but you don't want me to see nobody else?”

SHIP: Osamu miya x fem!Reader , slight Suna Rintarou x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Frustrated by her crush’s hesitation, reader asks a mutual friend to help make him jealous. INSTA SMAU

SONG INSPIRATION: Boyfriend - Ariana grande ft Social house

WARNING : it kinda sucks? and it’s short

NOTE : made for @avensonly <33

lovelyn : I definitely didn’t force sunarin to draw something cute for me!!

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atsumiya : since uhh when did you replace me with HIM???

lovelyn : since uhh now

atsumiya : I hope you had no fun

sunarin : she sure did

osamu.miya : you two are friends now? 🤨

lovelyn : we always have been?

osamu.miya : yeah but you never hung out alone

sunarin : with lovelyn

comments on this post have been limited

lovelyn : baking w sunarin ( thx for the recipe 'samu!! )

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sunarin : we are gonna ignore the fact you almost burned them?

lovelyn : only almost

sunarin : thanks to me

lovelyn : shut up 🙄

osamu.miya : I thought we were gonna do them together?

lovelyn : we still can!! this time I got practice 🤷‍♀️

kita.shin : they look very delicious I hope you had fun

lovelyn : we did and even kept some cookies for the team!!

sunarin : her idea not mine

atsumiya : AGAIN!?

atsumiya : are you two like dating now?

osamu.miya : no they aren’t

lovelyn : he definitely will end this game with hidden cards up his ass sunarin

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sunarin : I would never 🖕

atsumiya : he always does

sunarin : fuck you both

lovelyn : HAHAHAHAH

lovelyn : "study date” my ass sunarin

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sunarin : did you really think I was gonna do more than in class?

lovelyn : you do nothing in class

sunarin : exactly

osamu.miya : date??

atsumiya : I WOULD’VE STUDIED WITH YOU

lovelyn : no you wouldn’t 😐

atsumiya : no I wouldn’t 😔

osamu.miya : answer my messages y/n

osamu.miya : mine ❤️

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lovelyn : yours ❤️

sunarin : fucking finally

atsumiya : I’m officially a third wheel??

lovelyn : don’t ruin the mood

[nanaslutt]

IMMM BEGGINGGG PLEASEE DOO A FANFIC IM SORRYY BUT I CANT TAKE ANOTHER SAMU OR WHATEVER THE FUCK THEIR CALLEDD 😭😭💔💔😭😭💔💔

i just posted a fic yesterday and 2 days before that i posted a fic, that’s unfortunate for you that you don’t like the smaus but this is my blog and i’m going to post what i want :3 i love making the smaus and until i don’t want to make them anymore i’m going to continue making them

also as i’ve stated before i’m a 19 y/o nursing student with a job & a social life, writing fics takes hours while smaus only take an hour max

i also have 100+ fics already (not including drabbles) for you to read, if you don’t like the content i’m posting, feel free to unfollow, thank u ^.^