#what is this what is this

[torhues]

miya atsumu.

w : female reader, mentions of pregnancy, somewhat emotional idk, tsum makes his entry at the end but we still talk ab him throughout this helppp

faint aroma of the thyme tea resting in front of you keeps you from getting bored while waiting for atsumu. it's not that he has left you somewhere alone, in fact you're at his mother's place, but you still wish he would come home a bit early, especially since the weather is getting cold as the sunset caves in.

a part of you wants to discard the tea.

"are you nervous?" atsumu's mother— your mother-in-law, of course, interjects just when you were about to get up from the chair.

"sort of," your fingers dance around the hem of your dress, a lazy smile fluttering on your lips; amidst the cold winds, you find comfort within the warmth provided by the minimal sunlight offered by the setting sun. "i wonder if i'll be a good mother,"

it's the fifth time you're visiting your mother-in-law throughout your seven month long pregnancy, though you wished you could just stay at her place for the rest of the time left. something about her presence makes you forget all of your worries, even if it's just for a few minutes. she resembles a mentor, despite being your husband's mom, while on other days, you see glimpses of your mother in her eyes.

"how was it, raising 'tsum and osamu?" the question slips off your tongue before you even know it. you've been thinking of asking her for a while now, thinking, nothing more, before the words decide to escape on their own, knowing you would never voice them out.

"i don't know," it's an indifferent reply, you think. perhaps, you anticipated something more, something that would give you an insight into motherhood, but she doesn't spare you a glance, continuing to arrange the photo albums and frames. "i had them when i was quite young, and was scared i would do something wrong, that i wouldn't know when they are hungry. i was scared of all the worst scenarios i had in my head but, when i held them in my arms for the first time, i was relieved. i didn't know how i'll do it, but i knew it would be fine,"

there's a photo frame on the corner table with a picture of the twins in her arms. you've seen it a lot of times, often pointing out how different atsumu looked back then, even if it's only reasonable, while admiring them the other times. you've imagined yourself in her place— with your twins in your arms and atsumu by your side. looking through the photo album earlier, you had pictured yourself with your kids, thinking about all the things you would do to give them a memorable childhood.

all the concerns and plans you had, without a doubt, made you nervous.

"i thought, i wouldn't do things right," she continues, hands busy with cleaning all the frames that had captured atsumu and osamu's childhood together. "but, one look at them and i'd know what they need. it was like a miracle, to wake up from sleep exactly when they were hungry, or needed me to change their diapers. i think it's something you get after becoming a mother,"

and most of the people have told you the same, even your own mom. you're scared, but behind your fear, you imagine atsumu with his twins, doing everything that him and osamu did as children. you picture your kids wearing matching pajamas like any other siblings. at some point in future, you image them cooking with their father, perhaps an outdoor barbeque, since atsumu loves it.

you image atsumu teaching them volleyball and playing with them every evening. you already know he would be on cloud nine the moment they start praising him for being such an amazing volleyball player. you image going to little picnic dates with your family, or maybe, to the beach during the summers, making sand castles and playing by the shore. you image atsumu sleeping on the couch with your kids at noon after a tiring day at morning practice.

you imagine your kids holding onto atsumu's fingers while trying to walk, ultimately taking their first steps that make him burst into tears. you imagine him taking them to grocery stores and buy them every candy they lay their eyes upon— which is a little too much but the atsumu you know would do that. he would do anything for the two mini him-and-you running around the house, and you would too, without any compromises.

"was it hard raising them?" you ask again, this time with more interest in hearing her experience as a mother, or maybe, you simply wanted to hear about things atsumu and osamu did that kids.

"a little, but again, it's not easy to handle kids," her lips curl into a smile before they morph into a slight frown, "but atsumu gave me a hard time,"

"he would start crying the moment i took my eyes off him, always being able to find chocolates no matter where i hid them. you might not believe, but atsumu was somewhat of a shy kid to begin with. while osamu would make friends at the playground, he would hide behind his father,"

osamu once told you how in middle school, atsumu had the hardest time making friends because the two of them were assigned different classes. other times, osamu would introduce atsumu to his friends, but middle school taught him to depend on himself rather than having someone else to lean upon all the time, and made him into who he is right now.

it was hard to believe that the atsumu you know, miya atsumu, the one who has such a bit mouth, was once introverted. he's someone who announced it in the whole school when you became his girlfriend in middle school, the one who announced his marriage to you on twitter account before even talking to PR team and got scolded about it, the one who threw a party when he found out he was going to become a dad.

"gosh, i feel sad now," her words pull you out of your thoughts as a slight wave of guilt dwelled upon your shoulders for not focusing on her words and being lost in your own world.

you shift a little closer to her, "mom, did something happen?"

and silence is all you receive as a response. you notice the dull grimace masking her face, one that makes her someone so unknown because no matter the situation, she has always been the person to smile the brightest amidst a crowd.

"time flies by so quickly," she chuckles softly, "it feels like yesterday, he was a kid toddling around me all the time, and now, he's about to become a dad,"

between silence and fleeting steps of nostalgia in the room, you hear the door click, and the next thing you know is atsumu has returned from his little gathering with highschool friends. the room doesn't feel lonely anymore, and maybe it's because of his presence that's loud in itself, or the way he crouches in front of you, smiling at your belly and telling his kids how much he has missed them, and that he wouldn't leave them alone with you for hours ever again in case they grow more liking to you.

you could hear distance city noises as the night caved in, and by the time osamu came back, you had been planning to depart. although, a part of you wishes you could stay with them a little longer, you know atsumu shouldn't miss his practice since he's already planning to take a long leave once the twins are born; and there's no way he's leaving you at his mother's place all alone.

"so, what did you and mom talk about?" he asks, breaking the comforting silence that has been accompanying you through the car ride.

"not much," you slide your phone inside your purse, "just tales about how much of a trouble you were to your mom," atsumu laughs bitterly, and it's just a show because by this time, he knows that leaving you alone with his mom would result in discussions about his childhood. stories will be shared and secrets will be spilled, and atsumu would rather watch a soap opera than have his own mother tell you the embarrassing stuff he did as a kid.

you steal a glance at him. both osamu and atsumu are splitting images of their father, from tip to toe, but atsumu has his mother's eyes. perhaps, it's too late for you to notice this now, and maybe, he would be salty that you never noticed this, because he has always taken pride in resembling his mother, even if it's in just one feature.

"remember when you asked me if you would be a good father?" you slide your hands in atsumu's, wiping off all the doubts that have been seeping through his fingers, "our kids can't have a better dad, tsum,"

[worfianism]

The day I actually need the AT to be a tin can on wheels it remembers it is a member of the red bull racing family 😭

[benevolentcannibal]

I just gotta do terrible things to him

[koobiie]

shoutout to everyone who wants to infodump but cant string together coherent thoughts to form sentences and instead just look at you like this

[toothwormfactory]

[fangs-4-fags]

remembering the time i drunkenly told a stranger i was a trans man and he started going off about alpha sigma and beta males and how each one was equally important no matter what anyone says and that i shouldn't feel pressured to be a strong alpha male because emotionally intelligent beta males were just as important

[aromantic-diaries]

"why is EVERY song about love" I'm begging you to dig just a tiny bit deeper, there's literally thousands of songs that aren't love songs. You don't even have to look for the most obscure underground artists ever, the fucking Beatles of all people have a song about a guy who kills people with a hammer

[so-many-ocs]

[on the verge of having a complete breakdown] i need to make some kind of list or perhaps sort things into categories

[emj4yart]

Google is cooked

[alocalfrog]

Can you imagine suing Boeing and coming home to find Boeing's faulty plane parts washed up in your backyard?

[riacte]

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing [what would happen between earth and the moon if the earth stopped spinning as illustrated by xkcd randall munroe]

[pirateprincessjess]

When I was a kid my family pretended to get raptured so I would think I was left behind on earth while they all went to heaven.

I was like 8 years old and my sister and mom had gotten really into the Left Behind novels (bible fan fic about the rapture). In the books when the rapture happened the clothes that people were wearing when they got raptured were left behind in neatly folded piles.

One day when I was getting home from school my family decided that they would leave piles of neatly folded clothes around the house, and then hide in the basement.

The intended effect was that I would get home and see the clothes then, think that my family had been raptured and that I wasn’t good enough to get into heaven… or something?

The problem was that I had never read these books, and didn’t really think about the rapture very often. There was no reason that I would see some laundry on the floor and think “The rapture happened and I’ve been abandoned by God! I’ll never see my family again!! Oh nooo!!!!”

I just sat down and watched cartoons and eventually my family got bored and revealed that they were all hiding in the basement.

It’s a good thing I didn’t understand the joke, otherwise that shit would have been traumatic.

[ramshacklefey]

Kind of hilarious to me how poorly the title "Mob Psycho 100" localized to English-speaking areas. To someone whose first language is English, it scans as:

Mob (Yakuza, Mafia)

Psycho (violent person with "crazy" behaviors)

Thus: a particularly violent member of organized crime.

But in Japanese it scans as:

Mob (background characters in crowd scenes in manga or anime)

Psycho (short for psychic)

Thus: a psychic who looks/acts like someone you'd never pick out of a crowd scene in a comic.

[skenpiel]

i hope i never ever ever see this image while im high or it will also straight up kill me. it would make me so scared my skeleton would run away And id be a boneless scared heap on the ground

[x0401x]

So I just saw a post by a random personal blog that said “don’t follow me if we never even had a conversation before” and?????? Not to be rude but literally what the fuck??????????

I’ve had people (non-pornbots) try to strike conversation out of nowhere in my DMs recently, and now I’m wondering if they were doing that because they wanted to follow me and thought they needed to interact first. I feel compelled to say, just in case, that it’s totally okay to follow this blog (or my side blog, for that matter) even if we’ve never talked before.

Also, I’m legit confused. Is this how follow culture works right now? It was worded like it’s common sense but is that really a thing?