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cowboyhattedcrow · 9 days ago

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general writing rules

some basic rules and information about what i'm willing to write.

i write for:

attack on titan

haikyuu

blue lock

dandadan

jujutsu kaisen

vinland saga

the summer hikaru died

relationships/prompts:

fluff

angst

comfort

no nsfw

can do part 2s if requested, but somewhat unlikely

reader x canon (i mostly write for gn reader and male reader)

one shots

drabbles

headcanons

i don't do long fanfictions

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cowboyhattedcrow · 9 days ago

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more unjiji?? maybe unjiji with parents meet not sure

ofc ofccc!!!

also i have a comic for them i've been working on! i update it on my twitter + will post it all here when i'm done w it, but here is the first part :3

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cowboyhattedcrow · 11 days ago

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愛: miya atsumu and “love”

i do Not think i will ever be over love being used to describe atsumu.

even the twins’ backstory chapter itself is titled “love.” atsumu’s origin story begins with love. he discovers volleyball and falls in love with it, and osamu is there with him every step of the way on the same journey. throughout the series, it’s clear the two things atsumu loves and cherishes the most in the world are volleyball and his brother.

asshole supreme, but his name, 侑, is often used in the phrase 侑食 which means “to offer food or to urge people to eat more.” think like, aggressive asian aunties at family dinners.

here’s an interesting breakdown of the kanji:

(source)

furudate said they named him in the hopes he will take care of and help others. he decides at a young age he wants to play setter because “only the best players get to play the coolest position.” he considers it cool that the best players are the ones who let their teammates play with ease because of them. he wants to score by offering what he has, that is, the “best” of what he can give.

but atsumu is generally disliked by his peers because he has no tact in his interactions, running purely on his drive & hunger for volleyball. also let’s be real, because of his personality in general. he expresses his love for volleyball by being rude and demanding, aggressive and competitive.

he gets into one of his worst fights with osamu over the latter’s decision to not continue playing volleyball after high school. he’s furious because his brother’s his partner, his other half; inextricably intertwined with the sport he loves to the core. they spent their whole lives playing together and winning together. there’s nothing in the world he cherishes more in the world than volleyball and his brother and it’s been this way since he was a child; in atsumu’s mind, it’s inconceivable to have one without the other.

his relentless love for volleyball means he never backs down from a challenge, no matter how reckless or impossible it may seem. during their first game at nationals against karasuno, he sees hinata and kageyama’s freak quick and immediately wants to try it out simply because it looks cool; he even successfully pulls it off several times throughout the match. his love for volleyball that enables him to fearlessly move forward into the unknown with no hesitation. his love for volleyball and pride in his skills that allows him to see endless possibilities for himself with virtually no limits.

the way he puts so much care into his tosses to the point he finds it insulting if his hitters don’t score with them. the way he is fiercely confident in his values and play style because he absolutely knows he’s giving his players the best and easiest to hit tosses. he practices for years and years to be able to set “easy to hit” tosses, anywhere and anytime.

he perfects two deadly serves by the time he’s a 2nd year in high school because (besides the fact he just wants to be badass and intimidating) he wants to ensure as many points for his team as possible, in as many ways he can.

these are some of his most memorable lines to me because they encapsulate so much of his character. with his extremely deft skills and reflexes, he made the unusual but deliberate decision in that situation to set the ball overhand (with ten fingers) despite the awkward position when most setters would dig it (two arms). when suna asks him why he did it, he responds cheerfully that that’s what a setter does: support. ten fingers give him more control than two arms, ten fingers means he can support the team better. a better set means his hitters can spike with more ease to the best of their abilities. the lengths atsumu goes to set the ball every single time with as much care as he can impart says so much about his love and dedication to volleyball.

HE IS FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH LOVE FOR HIMSELF, VOLLEYBALL, HIS TEAMMATES, HIS BROTHER. THE IRONY IN THE FACT OTHERS AROUND HIM MISUNDERSTAND THIS LOVE BECAUSE IT COMES OUT IN ALL THE WRONG WAYS WHEN HE EXPRESSES IT LITERALLY BRINGS ME TO MY KNEES.

it’s in the way he gives as much as it’s in his expectations from others.

atsumu is literally the human embodiment of love, in all of its raw and imperfect forms.

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cowboyhattedcrow · 11 days ago

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Overflow

Summary: Not a drop left in his pail, Atsumu no longer knows how to love. With cupped hands, you fill him up again.

Word count: 1.3k

A/n: hurt/comfort; small mention of cheating (on Atsumu but not because of you); I am so used to clowning Atsumu and loving his brother, I hope I did him justice.

The year Atsumu was born, the river near his ma’s house flooded. She likes to tell anyone who listens that it was the river and the fruitful crops to blame for how he and Osamu came to be. Atsumu does the same the night of his first heartbreak. So beside himself, he took the hour ride from Osaka to Hyogo and cried into the smooth (only by time) gray quilt on his childhood bed. His ma left cut up fruit on the nightstand next to a half used box of tissues. When there were still whispers of tears at midnight, she called Osamu to help.

If only he could love less, he mourns with snotty sobs. The multiplying nature of the river must have affected the way he loved, because ever since he was young, everything had always been too much. Not even Osamu could absorb his oversaturated being. Feelings are all consuming that he cannot help it; it rides over into candid expressions (that the media has taken a liking to) he cannot control.

Atsumu’s love is a torrential downpour. A persistent cascading of everything that he has, he overflows just like the river near his ma’s house. What hurts more than a broken heart is the emptiness within him that he’s never felt ever in his life.

When Osamu arrives, he simply sits on the edge of the bed. Two grown men barely fit, but Atsumu relishes his presence because losing Osamu was the first bit of loneliness he had to learn how to bear. Brotherhood has taught him that though they are apart, they will always be there for each other. This pain though, is something different. He’s lost a piece of himself that he doubts he could ever get back.

When the tears subside into whispered hiccups, Osamu breaks silence and tells him he’ll be okay. He reminds him that one day he’ll move on. Atsumu does know what to say. He swallows his sobs with the blanket clenched in his fists and tucked right beneath his chin because in all honesty, he doesn’t want to move on. He wants his heart back in any way he knows how.

Yet, as much as Atsumu likes to deny, his brother is always right. Atsumu eventually finds himself back on his feet. A billowing in his chest makes his meager heart shake and he comes to realize that he is ready to love again. Just as before, he pours and he pours, relinquishing all of himself into the adrenaline of the fall.

Only to take another train back to Hyogo and smother himself in old, quilted sheets once more.

You find Atsumu when there is less than a droplet in his pail. He is broken and a poor version of himself. Gone is the moony eyed boy willing to risk it all for love. Here is a man who has weathered his own storm.

Yet you love him so perfectly. He never has to say a word and you feed into what he needs. A finest chameleon compared to his clumsiness. Words that you need to hear sometimes fail to come out of his mouth in preference of himself and his pride. Sometimes he pouts and glowers and only submits when you do first. The unselfishness you have is something he admires and wishes to reciprocate, only failing to do so out of fear. Because he knows of love and he knows of the pain that comes after. With you now holding the sword, Atsumu doubts he could ever survive.

They say practice makes perfect. Atsumu knows this to be true. He’s a product of it, evident when you compare his high school performance to his Olympic ones. But how do you train a heart that refuses to heal? He’s never been the same since the first time he’s loved and had his heart broken.

He sees the way his teammates interact with their partners and is always consumed by jealousy. He watches ever the always considerate Bokuto hold open every door for his lover and nothing compares to the way Meian leans down whenever his partner speaks, attentive to their words. He wants to love you the way they love them, the way that he used to love. There’s little regret in his life, but if he could have loved you first, if he had the opportunity to show you the unrivaled affection that you deserve, the better man that he used to be, he would. He’d do anything to give you just that, but unfortunately, what you’ve found is a man worth much less.

Atsumu wordlessly loosens his tie and flops onto the bed after you arrive home from an MSBY promoted gala. You’re at his side in an instant, massaging his back, caressing his cheeks, and ruffling his hair. Wordlessly, you continue, because you know that Atsumu will speak his mind when he is ready, never before.

It brings him even greater shame. Hinata was bragging earlier nonstop of his loved one. Atsumu used to find it easy to pipe in, ready to shove his luck in front of everyone’s face. Yet there he stood in the group, graced with you by his side, only for his mouth to hang open like an idiot.

“Why are ya with me?” Atsumu finally mutters. He’s hardly loud enough, especially with the way they are muffled by his cheek pressed into a pillow. “Ya could have someone better, ya know.”

There's silence, biding your time as you ruminate your response.

“Will you look at me when you talk?” You hug him firmly before tugging his shoulders, urging him to turn around. “If we’re going to talk about something like this, I’d like for you to see my face so you know how serious I am.”

A petulant grumble runs through Atsumu’s chest despite being willingly compliant. He sits up against the headboard and with your knees on either side of him, you sit on his lap.

“Give me your hands, Atsumu.”

He holds them out to you, demure, like getting handcuffed. You break the shackles by turning his wrists so that his palms are open. Then with both hands, you take his and cup them into yours.

“I love you because I want to, because it makes me feel good to see you happy.”

You stun him into shock, because he knows exactly how that feels. Yet, despite being burned like him, you still love fearlessly. Admiration fills his heart more than adoration.

“I’m broken, ya know.” Atsumu warns. Your lips dip into a frown but he continues on before you can rebuke him. “I’ve loved only to be cheated on and lied to and I love ya. God knows I do, but I wish I could love ya better. But I’m drained and I’m scared and I want ya to know that if ya wanted to leave, I wouldn’t be mad at ya.”

Sighing, you bring his hands closer to your lips, pressing kisses to his fingertips. Atsumu doesn’t realize this because he’s busy being too critical of himself, but he still loves with all that he can give. If you had met him with one drop left in his pail, that one drop was enough to ripple to the edges, the meniscus tipping over until you overflowed.

“All I want is to love you. And that one day, eventually, you feel whole.” You look down at his hands, cupped into a little bowl.

You give as much as you receive. Not a single piece of skin has been untouched by his lips. He kisses your imperfections, the bruises and cuts that he has never seen, and thanks them. He makes you feel wanted when he swoops you into his arms not even a second after arriving home. And even though sometimes insecurity might make him walk out, he doesn’t realize that a broken heart humbled him with the knowledge of regret and forces him back home.

So you pour and you pour and you pour until Atsumu cries. You pour until the river overflows again.

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cowboyhattedcrow · 11 days ago

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his big wet eyes and loser boy personality have captivated me

#atsumu #and like a lot of my other favourites i think

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cowboyhattedcrow · 16 days ago

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