[ note: i like a lot of things, and most that are listed here are only on the top of my head! feel free to talk about anything with me cause i'll be open to it all :D ]
seventeen, bts, enhypen, ateez, weki meki, txt
haikyuu, the royal tutor, darwin's game, restaurant to another world
coraline, the fantastic mr. fox
bee and puppycat !! gravity falls, steven universe
🗯 :: before you follow
i can be active for hours on end and then be offline for weeks (its really up to my mental health ://) so i apologise in advance !!
reblog heavy
i write but i post them maybe once or twice a year? ahah
reblogs tagged with [🗯...uwu] are my comfort fics - stories i always go back to for a pick-me-up or a small lil getaway from here
I’m taking your hand very gently when I say this, especially cause I struggle with it too:
It is more important that you are in the pictures than how you look in them. Having pictures of something joyful and being in them helps you remember good times years ahead. The more time passes, the more nostalgic it gets, and the more you might regret not being in the pictures or having them. At some point, you will hopefully also look at yourself with kinder eyes, and notice the joy in the pictures themself and the joy the memories bring.
Your presence matters far more than your looks ever will. 🌸
the worst part about grief is that it feels like the world should be horrendously earth shatteringly changed, and to an extent it IS but its also the same. to everyone else it's just another tuesday. the world moves on. you have to go grocery shopping.
synopsis: second-year reader has been shirabu’s classmate and academic rival since their first year. when reader overworks themselves and they break down during a test, shirabu is unexpectedly “kind.”
details: academic rivals to friends/lovers, some angst, hurt/comfort, ~3.2k words, gn! reader.
warnings: some descriptions of reader having low self-esteem and test anxiety :( also, this is long; i hope the time skips are clear.
Sometimes, you wonder how you ended up here.
You were excited to finally reach the last leg of your high school journey after years of studying at Shiratorizawa Academy.
Of course, you knew the climb would only get harder, but you had no idea the mountain would be this rocky.
Your goal was clear: consistently be at the top of your class, for at least two out of three terms every year.
When you started your first year, the classes seemed pretty manageable. You didn’t think you’d have any trouble.
That was until your classmate, Shirabu Kenjirou, came out on top in the first term.
He didn’t say that much, but his scores spoke for themselves. Threatened, you pushed back.
You recited at least once every class. You volunteered to help your teachers. You made damn sure that you’d be congratulated for getting the highest test scores.
By then, you knew you had his attention.
An academic rivalry was not part of your plan; but for the sake of maintaining a competitive medical school application, you told yourself to accept it.
And apparently, he has plans to apply to med school, too! Great!
Through sheer determination, you successfully beat him by the end of the second term. When you came home to your family for winter break, you proudly shared the news.
Come third term, everyone in your class knew you two were battling it out. Even the teachers caught on and reminded you two to keep the competition friendly.
Nobody would ever forget your pair work in social studies that ended in an impromptu debate about the Japanese economy. Your teacher just sighed and reiterated that your grade was shared, not separate.
Despite it all, you survived…only to end up tied with him in the class ranking. It was so unlikely, but somehow, the cumulative totals of your percentages were equal.
You had no idea how it made you feel, but you prayed to everyone and everything, hoping it would come to an end.
However, the day you walked into your new second-year classroom, you wondered if your wishes fell on deaf ears.
Sat in the front row was the sandy-haired boy with the infuriating bowl cut bangs.
You know it’s not like you, but you crave seeing the sour look on Shirabu’s face whenever you win against him.
It’s become second nature to send him a sickly sweet smile each time you get praised by a teacher.
You couldn’t help it, not when you found out he became the starting setter for Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team this year.
Sports was never something you cared about, as you’d rather spend the rest of the afternoon studying. But, it irked you to see how well he seemed to balance his extracurriculars with his academics.
No, you even envied it—the training was no joke. Your friends tell you that it’s constant early morning and late afternoon training, plus a harsh coach.
Yet, the guy comes into class acing his assignments, almost as if he hasn’t spent hours of his day throwing and hitting balls.
Just for once, you want to see him break.
You feel ashamed to think that way about someone, but sometimes, it seems easier to be resentful.
It didn’t help that he was constantly being congratulated by classmates and teachers because Shiratorizawa won the Miyagi Interhigh Tournament.
Internally, you were happy because it meant not seeing him in class for a while. But the more you thought about it…
He’s going to Tokyo for Nationals. He plays with a team. He has a life outside of academics.
You? You’ve got nothing going on.
Your days all blend together: late-night studying, rushed breakfast, intense classes, library time, dinner, studying some more. Repeat.
Your roommate offers company, though they're equally busy, chasing their own dream of becoming a lawyer.
And while you see friends at lunch, you’ve started declining invites to go out, even on weekends. You can barely recall what the arcade or nearby cafés look like.
You always say you need more time to study. That you’re tired and want to rest. There’s truth to your reasons, yet you feel frustrated.
Unfulfilled.
Pissed.
Why can’t I be like him?
Adding insult to injury, they release the first-term grade cards and class rankings.
Just like last year, Shirabu took the top spot. You came in second, but only by a small, decimal point difference.
Something twists in your gut.
Normally, you do pretty decently in your mathematics classes, but it doesn’t mean you never struggle with the lessons.
The second-term curriculum seems to be out to get you though. Limits? Elementary Calculus? Where in the world would you need this kind of math in your life?
Lately, you’ve been observing Shirabu at the library on his free days. You wait until he brings out the math textbooks and worksheets, then time how long it takes him to finish studying.
It takes him about half the time it takes you.
You’re not even surprised when he’s applauded for getting the highest mark on the lastest math test.
Of course. He has a way with numbers that I don’t.
When you receive your test paper, you stare at the red ink. You passed, but only by a few points. Relief and disappointment swirl inside you.
The teacher starts to go over the items that most students had difficulty with, but you don’t pay attention. You can’t, not when you know everything’s starting to fall apart.
For the first time in your life, you felt the danger of failure. It was terrifying.
You can feel Shirabu gazing at you, but you don’t look back.
He’s not important now. You need to survive.
If he starts wondering why you stopped going to the library, it’s none of his business.
A distraction is the last thing you need.
You stop talking to everyone, choosing to stick your head between your books during break.
You no longer recite in every single class. Once a day is enough to conserve your mental energy.
The weekends are reserved for a strict study regimen that gives you more time to study for math.
Your classmates whisper about you. They send concerned looks your way.
Some teachers ask if you’re okay, but you say that you’re fine.
You should be.
You have to be.
Two weeks have passed, and there’s another stupid math test coming. Tomorrow, to be exact.
Your dorm room is silent. Your roommate has long fallen asleep on their desk, knocked out from working on their chemistry assignments.
It’s past midnight now, but you’re only halfway through the test coverage—partially, it’s also thanks to an English project draft that was also due tomorrow.
Your head is buzzing with anxious thoughts, worries that you’ll forget everything you’ve spent days studying.
I need to pass, I need to pass, I need to pass…
The numbers and symbols start to fly around the page. The steps starts to lose all sense of logic.
You don’t even register your eyelids drooping and the pencil falling out of your hands.
Fatigue is a tough thing to fight off.
The next time you blink, it’s to wake up.
Both you and your roommate jolt at your morning alarms.
When did I fall asleep?
You groan and sit up, massaging a small cramp out of your neck. Your head has a lingering ache, you realize, as you wipe away a small amount of drool from the corner of your lips.
But you have no time to think about it. You need to get ready for the day.
The rest of the morning goes by in a haze. You pick up one of the energy bars on your bedside table. You feel like you can’t really eat anything more, anyway.
There’s a pit in your stomach. You suppose it’s hunger, test anxiety, or something else.
Whatever, whatever, I’m going to be late.
Your roommate gives you one last “good luck” before you both dash to your classrooms in the high school building.
Thankfully, all your morning classes were either entirely new lessons or reviews of familiar material. You cannot listen to anything your teachers are saying.
On your desk, your physics notebook is secretly opened. You try to review what you can, but it’s tough.
You feel like nodding off at any moment. The room feels hotter than usual, too.
When recess comes around, you’ve lost your appetite entirely. It’s an odd, contradicting feeling. You’re hungry and you know you need to eat, but you don’t want to.
Maybe you shouldn’t. You feel like you might throw up if you do. Lunch comes right after anyway, so you’ll wait until the nerves are gone.
It’s time.
Your teacher walks into the room and you cannot believe that you’re about to take the dreaded test. Your legs can’t stop shaking.
Somehow, the worst sensations are hitting your body all at once. Heat, chills, nausea, sluggishness, and some sort of brain fog.
You can’t even focus on the final reminders that your teacher is giving you. There’s some chatter from your classmates, but it’s all garbled noise in your ears.
Every second feels like a century. The testing sheets make their way down each column, and you whisper one last prayer before your papers are passed to you.
Oh god.
Even though you’re staring directly at the page, none of the words or numbers register. The questions send a shiver down your spine.
How the hell do I do this again?
Breathe.
Breathe.
You’ve studied this.
You try to focus on the simpler questions first, to get them out of the way. You avoid reading the last few pages to give yourself some peace of mind.
You’re thankful that there are some parts with multiple choice questions, but your mind spins, trying to comprehend the conceptual aspects of your math lesson.
Your heart starts to pound wildly in your chest. You grip your pencil tightly as you attempt to solve or answer something.
You manage to come up with responses, but you get the feeling that there may have been something wrong in your computations. If there’s one thing you hated about mathematics, it’s how the careless mistakes result in a domino effect.
Whatever. It’s done. Next part.
You glance around the classroom, seeing nothing but your classmates working around you. Nobody seems to be struggling like you were.
Maybe they’re better at hiding it. It’s fine. It’s fine.
As you progress to the other questions, you find it increasingly challenging to concentrate and recall the steps. Nothing is surfacing to your memory. You feel like your skull is just stuffed with cotton.
What’s wrong with me?
The feeling is overwhelming. You look at the clock, realizing that you’ve already spent half the period on less than half of the questions.
I might not finish.
I don’t know what to do.
Nothing makes sense anymore. You feel like your insides are going to explode. Everything hurts. You feel like throwing up. It’s cold and hot and you don’t understand it.
I’m going to fail.
The very thought brings your anxiousness to a peak. Tears fall from your eyes without warning. Your pencil drops to the floor as you hold your head in your hands.
It’s like a dam breaks.
It’s not long before you catch your classmates’ and teacher’s attention.
You can hear your teacher call out to you, but you don’t know what to to say. You register her coming closer, asking you questions with surprise and concern.
“Darling, what’s the matter?”
You can’t stop crying. Your mind runs a mile a minute.
You feel a cold hand on your forehead, and there’s a hiss that follows.
"You're burning up," she mutters, a crease of worry in her brow. "I think you've got a fever. You should go to the nurse. We can schedule a make-up test this week."
You sniffle and nod in response. The teacher takes your test booklet, giving your shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze before returning to her desk.
"Is there anyone finished? Kindly help them to the nurse if so," she asks, her voice echoing in the quiet classroom.
You don’t even realize who volunteers. You just want this to end.
There's a small tap on your shoulder. "Hey, let’s go." It's a voice you know all too well.
You look up to find none other than Shirabu standing over you.
Of course he's already finished, you think bitterly to yourself.
You muster a weak nod, feeling even smaller as he helps you pack up your things.
The hallway is nearly deserted, with a faint murmur of voices and the shuffling of distant footsteps. You’re aware of the sideway glances that a few students and teachers give you as they pass by.
You cover your face with your hands; you’ve always hated what you looked like when you cry.
And I just had to break down in front of him like this.
To your surprise though, you notice that Shirabu’s matching his pace to yours. Shirabu always walks quickly, often a few steps ahead of anyone else. But right now, he's walking just slow enough that, if you picked up the pace, you'd be side-by-side.
Is he only doing this because the teacher asked him? But she isn’t here to see him right now, so-
"What happened to you?" His voice cuts through your thoughts.
You startle at his question, expecting this entire walk to be silent.
“I…I don’t know.” Your voice is still a little thick. “I couldn’t answer the questions at all.”
"No. I meant, why'd you go even if you were sick?"
“Oh.” You sniffle, embarrassed. “I thought I could handle it…didn’t know it would be this bad. Just wanted to show up.”
Shirabu goes quiet for a moment, before asking more questions.
“How long have you been feeling this way? Did you even eat or drink anything? You didn’t do either during recess.”
His questions catch you off guard. You can’t believe that he’s asking you something this personal. There’s no bite to his words. Just genuine curiosity.
“Uh,” you falter. You try to think back to yesterday and this morning. “Well, I…”
"You...?" He prompts, urging you to continue.
“Um, I mean, I’ve been tired lately. Who wouldn’t be?” You mutter.
Shirabu raises his eyebrows.
Ugh, he won’t stop until I tell him.
“I didn’t really eat a lot yesterday.” You sigh. “Energy bar this morning. Water, I don’t know how much.”
You can see the gears turning as he processes your response. “So, you haven’t been eating, drinking, and resting enough. Surely, you would have realized this wouldn’t end well for you?”
Hearing him say it out loud suddenly makes you feel defensive. It feels like he’s about to counter your argument in a debate—a deliberate search for weak spots.
“Well, sorry about that, Mister Perfect."
“What?”
“I get it! I don’t have my damn life together right now!” You grit your teeth together in frustration.
"How will you practice medicine without taking care of yourself?" Shirabu responds.
Oh, you’ve done it.
“Why the hell do you care?” You snap. Fresh tears spring to your eyes.
The both of you stop walking and a heavy atmosphere settles after your emotional outburst.
Shirabu doesn’t respond immediately, which somehow makes you feel worse. You feel stupid for overreacting.
“Look,” he says quietly. “I’m not trying to be mean. It’s just that…you have to make it.”
Your head lifts up in surprise. “W-What?”
“You have to make it into medicine.”
“Why?”
“That’s your dream, isn’t it?”
“I, yes…” Your voice is soft. You’re not sure what he’s trying to get at. “But what’s it to you if I achieve it or not?”
“We need more brilliant doctors.”
That stuns you and you chuckle in disbelief at his words.
“Don’t mess with me. You can’t be so sure,” you mutter.
“I’m usually right about things,” he deadpans.
You glare at him, though a small part of you is thankful for that tinge of “normalcy” at a moment like this.
“Just...” He sighs, pausing to think. “I’ve never met someone that pushed to work this hard academically.”
You let out a weak laugh. “Hm. The feeling is mutual, Shirabu.”
There’s a few beats of silence before he continues.
“You still feel that way now? Is that why you pushed yourself to take this test instead of resting?”
“Maybe…I don’t know,” you answer. Your brain can only take so much now. “But whatever. I get it—I’ve been making a lot of stupid decisions.”
“Then don’t make any more,” Shirabu says in a firm voice. He turns his entire body to face you, and his hands settle on your shoulders. “Listen to me.”
“Woah, what-”
“You better follow what the nurse says so you can recover.” He pauses, considering his next words carefully. “Once you’re better, I’m going to help you with math.”
He grip tightens for just a moment before he lets go. When his words sink in, you blink at him, bewildered.
“I’m sorry, did you get hit in the head by a volleyball?”
“I’m serious,” he glares.
“Why are you doing this? You’re helping me?”
“Did you not hear what I said earlier? I want you to make it.”
“...into medicine.” You whisper, completing his statement.
Wait. “I want?” Didn’t he say-
“Yes.” He continues walking, but halts for a moment to look over his shoulder. “Come on.”
You follow.
“And you plan on making it to medicine, too, Shirabu.”
“Mhm,” he responds with absolute certainty.
As you both round the corner, the nurse’s office comes into view. You decide to ask the question forming in your mind before you lose the chance to.
“Are you saying that you want me to stick around?”
You brave a quick glance at his face, but the intensity in his eyes takes your breath away.
“I do.”
At some point, you drifted off after the nurse questioned you and guided you to one of the beds.
You vaguely remember Shirabu holding on to your belongings and lingering for a while before the nurse dismissed him.
“Hi, darling,” the nurse says, noticing you sit up. “Are you feeling a little better?”
“Yes,” you respond. Your fever’s gone down, according to the thermometer, though you still feel groggy.
“That’s good. I think you can go return to your dorm once you’re ready.”
You nod in response and you thank the nurse for her assistance. She moves to return to her desk, but then she stops.
“By the way…” She faces you again. “That kind boy from your class brought you some food from the cafeteria.”
Huh?
She points to the wrapped bowl on your bedside table.
“Oh, I see. Thank you.”
Shirabu bringing you food was already surprising, but what truly catches your eye are the pages of class notes held together by a metal paperclip.
You gasp once you read the sticky note on top.
These are notes from today’s classes.
Review them when you’ve recovered.
Take your meds, eat, hydrate, and rest properly.
Get well soon. - Shirabu
this is honestly the sweetest and i really really loved the part about the reader realising that they were nothing beyond their studies; it really hit close to home and something that should be focused on. thank you for writing this beautiful piece, lovely <3
when a strange woman races him in the middle of the night - and wins - he simply doesn't know what to do with himself.
pairing: k. sakusa x fem!reader
content: smau, formula drift au, street racer reader, timeskipped characters, friends to lovers, mutual pining but they're both too dumb to realize, some car/drift jargon, I only included characters that look like car guys to me, written parts are probably wordy as fuck
series content warning: mdni!, illegal street racing, dangerous activities, language, sexual mentions, drinking, everyone is probably ooc [more may be added, check each chapter for warnings]
RAAAAAA I AM SO IN LOVE WITH A FIC I WISH I CAN MARRY IT ‼️👹‼️👹‼️ TELL ME WHY DOES EVERY CHAPTER GOT ME KICKING MY FEET IN THE AIR AND GIGGLING ‼️‼️‼️
screaming aside, this smau is honestly so so so pretty in the sense that i feel so full of love and happiness everytime i read this. genuinely, i had the biggest smile on my face whenever i was reading and was giggling like a little school kid reading this.
Our abandonment issues may really get triggered when we are considered as a second option by people we like and people with whom we have any type of connection with. Even more romantic relationships.
It makes us fall back into that (old) pattern of believing we're not good enough while something/someone else is much better than us even if the real reason for us being "pushed aside"/not acknowledged as we'd like to is another (if we were able to look at the situation from a different point of view, we could easily see it but ofc, our wound doesn't always let us... or doesn't let us accept it as the real truth, at times even unconsciously). This emotion could be even more enhanced if we're already feeling unworthy for some reason and fear being left by the other person all of a sudden; especially if they're behaving a little more different with us than usual for any reason (also unrelated with us: they have their own life and problems too ofc and even if we are able to know about them and understand them, we may still feel abandoned especially on the long run and/or on special days/occasions).
As a result, very often we either fall into sadness/depression and isolate from everyone and everything or we search for validation and worth elsewhere, with someone else. Something we learned to do when we couldn't get the feedback and validation we needed in our childhood from our caregivers (they may have not been constant in their displays too which made us strongly insecure about our worth) or past relationships, very likely.
What's worse is that we may even end up sabotaging the relationship, without being aware of the real reasons behind our actions/words (or better, without being aware of our real triggered feelings: us feeling left out, abandoned, not valued enough, lonely. Even if it's not always exactly so).
Take a moment to understand that not everything the other person does and may hurt you even in an indirect way is your fault. Take time to talk about your hurt feelings with them and find compromises as soon as you can; don't let things rot inside of you, or those may come out in forms you may not even understand or be able to control at first. Realize what it is that you need from the other person but are not getting, and why it is so important for you. What are you making these actions/situations mean about you. What are you lacking because of those actions (eg. confirmations about this person being there for you as you need/to meet your needs/they won't leave you suddenly... Whatever it is, it's okay. Just try to be aware of what part of you is hurting and maybe why). Remember we cannot control others and their decisions, but again it doesn't mean that these are always made by them with the intention to hurt us or make us feel unworthy. That's something only we have the power to understand and heal by looking at the situation with objectivity, but also at our own insecurities and emotions with openness, compassion and patience.
Take care, you can do it.<3
Immediately, as soon as your first words are uttered over the recording video, Rintaro’s booms down the hallway. You laugh and smack your hand on the counter, trying to keep it as quiet as you can as you hear him continue to yell.
“THE FUCK YOU THINK THIS IS? WE’RE LOCKED IN, WHAT THE FUCK!” Socked feet barrel down the hall and you’re quick to hide the camera behind a bottle of mouthwash. His body quickly comes into the frame, chest puffed out and hands on his hips. “You got something you want to tell me?”
You pull your lips down in thought before shaking your head, “no. I don’t think so. I didn’t even know you were home.”
“Oh!” He says dramatically, clapping his hands together. “So you’re just always talking about dumping me to your little Internet friends?”
“Only in my fantasies,” you hum, tossing your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He pouts, and you giggle and kiss him again, “but if I ever do decide to dump you, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”
This, has him blinking unamused at you. Then, his hands leap up to grab your cheeks, and he pulls you in for a loud, wet kiss, his lips pressing kisses over your laughing mouth, teeth, and lips. “Listen to me.”
“Rinnie!”
“No. Shush. Listen to me.” He pulls back and rests his head against yours, hands still squishing your cheeks. “I have shit out an engagement ring for you. I have your name tattooed on me. I got clawed to death by your rat fuck cat, and I have a shirt with your face on it that I wear when I go out. We’ve shared a toothbrush, you pinch my nipple when I’m showering, you text me and ask me if I’ve pooped, and I know damn well you take ugly pictures of me when I’m sleeping.”
“Your point?”
His nostrils flare, “you so much as THINK this relationship is ending, I’m going to tattle on you.”
“Oh, please-“
“To Komori.”
This, has you paling, and you nod softly and gently grab his shoulders, “no, okay, you’re right, you’re right baby, I’m sorry.” He nods as you press a kiss to his lips, “but in all seriousness-“
“Oh, I’m serious, too.”
You snicker, “in my seriousness, I’m never going to leave you.” You flash your engagement ring to the camera and purse your lips out, and he smiles down at you. “who else is going to poop out a ring, then lie to the salesman about why we’re returning it, and get me a new one, hmm?”
“Thankfully, I’m the only one who will.” He kisses your forehead, then looks at you with sad eyes. “We’re locked in?”
“Yeah baby,” you giggle, kissing his nose. “We’re locked in.”
I think Hayao Miyazaki is so right. Romanticizing is the only way to live better and peaceful life. You gotta have to romanticize every small thing in your life. Just like how they romanticize everything in his studio ghibli movies. Every small detail from like kitchen to work, to school or college, to even going on a bus.
Twan Eng Tan, The Gift of Rain // Makoto Shinkai, Your Name // Nicola Yoon, The Sun Is Also a Star // Pavana // Lang Leav, "Soul Mates" // S.E. Hall, Emerge // Hayao Miyazaki, Spirited Away // Hafiz
synopsis: after buying a book goes extremely wrong, suna rintarou takes it upon himself to somehow befriend the pretty bookseller. little does he know, the bookseller has connections to him in more ways then one.
- suna x fem!reader
- genre: smau, crack? fluff also tiniest bit of angst .
the pain is agonising and i want to slap sunarin so badly but the friendships surrounding yn is so so adorable i love it so much. ngl when chapter 20 was titled ended my heart broke cause i thought op just decided to end the smau on a cliffhanger (i'm dumb) but love this smau, it has everything from the drama to the fighting to the love (platonic! and romantic?), to the angst and frustrations of slow burns
I've seen increasing buzz around here about Howl's Moving Castle (book). I think you all deserve to know that all of Diana Wynne Jones's books are filled with characters and plots that are absolutely as delightful and unhinged as that one.
Some Actual Plots include:
Dogsbody - The star Sirius is accused of murder and sentenced to exile on Earth in the body of a dog until he finds a magical item called a Zoi. He's adopted by a young Irish girl living with her abusive and neglectful English relatives. He has to balance his desire to find the Zoi with needing to be a Good Dog for the girl who takes care of him. Also the Wild Hunt is there.
Hexwood - A girl finds a magical wood behind her house where she meets a wizard who thinks he's a convict of the intergalactic government, a boy created by the man to destroy said government, and a robot found in a junk heap. The magic wood is actually an alternate reality being generated by an AI who has a grudge to settle with the head of said government. The book is about abuse, PTSD, and trauma.
The Dark Lord of Derkholm - Magical world is being destroyed by a company using it as an isekai amusement park for people from another dimension. Bio-wizard is appointed Dark Lord for the year, and he and his family (four of whom are bioengineered griffins) have to find a way to survive the season while everything is going wrong.
Deep Secret - Interdimensional detective/diplomat/wizard needs to find a replacement for his deceased mentor. He does so at a fantasy convention, while trying to keep an interdimensional empire from collapsing into civil war after the emperor is assassinated along with all of his heirs.
She's an absolute master at weaving fantasy elements into the mundane world and writing from the PoV of kids. Her books are funny, clever, and full of delightful characters. I'm begging you all to check them out.
SYNOPSIS - Club Stupid, an anonymous podcast meant for the dumb and dumbest to send in unspoken and nonsensical thoughts about issues they face in their day to day lives and for Y/n to speak out and give her opinions and feelings. Normal feelings though, nothing romantic like how she thinks this lazy guy with questionable hair in the volleyball club is actually pretty cute.
PAIRING - SUNA x FEM!READER ft (inarizaki & shiratorizawa + other teams)
GENRE - crack + fluff and maybe some angst thrown in between
STATUS - completed!
A/N- I’m trying to forget about school leave me alone and enjoy some Suna 🙈
this is honestly one of the most beautiful and fucking hilarious haikyuu smaus. its got everything - down to the fucking stupidity and chaos that ensues that makes your sides hurt from laughter, the fucking slow burn (thats uncalled for :<) and the amazing love that blossoms. the love is something so beautiful and find myself coming back to. thank you for writing this <3
God, I can't tell you how much the "there's not enough enrichment in my enclosure" joke has helped my mental health. Because, for some reason I can't comprehend, pretending that I'm a zoo keeper caring for an animal (which is also me) just makes everything easier to comprehend. Like "Your head gets screwey when you're apartment is messy" just doesn't carry as much resonance as "The tiger becomes agitated when its enclosure is cluttered" because then I'll be like, no shit? The tiger? I've gotta keep things nice and clean for the tiger.
🌼 ♡ if you receive this you make somebody happy. go and send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up ♡ 🌼
poppy my love my sunshine !!!! THANK YOU 🥺🥺🥺 i missed you so much. i hope you're doing well bub !!! if anything, i'm here for you <333 stay safe flower ^^