matsunshine

[matsunshine]

born to be his controversially young girlfriend forced to read fan fiction about him

[matsunshine]

nothing beats the feeling of going back to a fandom that you were in when you were younger, and rediscovering the chokehold that your favorite characters (still) have on you.

[matsunshine]

if u are reading this i am pouring positive vibes on u from a lil watering can

[matsunshine]

inspired by a friend misspeaking

[matsunshine]

If you use Duolingo, maybe don't anymore? The company is moving to be "AI-first" and is using AI to generate their content. Meaning, AI is now generating your language lessons.

They announced that they were going to use AI for this a while back but now they're annoucing that they're getting rid of the contractors reviewing the AI generated content. So, very soon Duolingo is just going to be AI generated slop that might not even be correct.

For alternatives, I'd recommend checking with your local library. For instance, mine offers Rosetta Stone for free if you have a library card.

[matsunshine]

Hey everyone, I know it's going to be a busy day for a lot of people, but Google enrolled everyone over 18 into their AI program automatically.

If you have a google account, first go to gemini.google.com/extensions and turn everything off.

Then you need to go to myactivity.google.com/product/gemini and turn off all Gemini activity tracking. You do have to do them in that order to make sure it works.

Honestly, I'm not sure how long this will last, but this should keep Gemini off your projects for a bit.

I saw this over on bluesky and figured it would be good to spread on here. It only takes a few minutes to do.

[matsunshine]

atsumu still remembers the first night the two of you moved into your apartment together.

it had been snowing then, streets empty, and windows closed shut to keep the cold air out. you had just started your first year in uni and he had just been made an official member of the msby black jackals.

it was about two weeks after the two of you got married, and neither of you had had any help moving into the small, not that pretty, not that impressive, shoebox of an apartment the two of you could afford.

you ended up spending that evening on the floor, two pizza boxes laid out on the ground, your laptop open across from you, atsumu sitting beside you, and two moving boxes stacked on top of each other waiting to be unpacked.

he remembers how when he moved out of his parent’s place he only had one box to bring — clothes, shoes, a few picture frames, and everything else he pretty much left behind.

“are you just gonna stand there looking pretty or are you actually gonna help me with these?”

your voice takes him out of his memories, and he’s back in your apartment again, this time the sun is high up in the sky, a warm summer breeze infiltrating the air as the windows are left wide open.

he looks over to you, sweaty and giving him a look.

there’s a stack of boxes labeled “for donation” to your right, almost as tall as you now as it keeps getting piled on and on, and the apartment doesn’t feel as empty as that very first night anymore.

atsumu gives you his winning smile, “you think i’m pretty?”

and you walk towards him, hand on your hip, “pretty lazy.”

you hand him the tape in your hands along with the scissors and marker you’ve been using for the past three hours now.

“your turn to work.” you huff, plopping down on the couch as you’re finally free from the fifteen, maybe sixteen, boxes of nothing you had just spent the better half of your morning doing.

when did you get so many stuff?

atsumu disappears into the kitchen briefly, lazy smile on his face, and he re-emerges about fifteen seconds later, a glass of cold water in his right hand and a handkerchief on the other.

he hands you the water and he wipes away the sweat on your forehead before he kisses it, “relax, would’ja? this is supposed to be fun.”

you glare at him as you sink further deeper into the sofa, “we have too much stuff. spring cleaning or whatever is only supposed to be fun when you don’t have this much stuff.”

you’re sweaty, tired, and cranky, and it’s not even noon yet.

you eye down the pile of fifteen, maybe sixteen, boxes of junk in the corner of your living room, and you can feel a migraine coming on as you continue to think about it.

“when did we become one of those couples with dozens of miscellaneous things none of which are expendable?”

you rant languidly, too preoccupied in your own wallowing to notice your husband get up from the spot next to you and disappear into one of the other rooms.

you want the couch to swallow you whole as you grumble and mumble.

“i mean, remind me again, why we have three extension cords?”

atsumu comes from the bedroom this time, camera in his hand, and he shrugs at you sheepishly, “in case we need to use three extension cords all at the same time.”

you roll your eyes at the blond, watching him as he walks towards you again and you sit up straighter when you eye down the device in his hand.

your eyebrows still furrow together, “why are you holding the camera?”

flash. he gives you that same winning smile of his as he snaps a picture.

the photo prints out almost instantly with a whirring sound, and atsumu shakes it in the air as it develops.

“well, it is my prerogative as your husband to record any event in our married life that is important and will make us cry one day when we’re old and grey and looking back on our gazillion photo albums.”

atsumu grins down at the now developed photo of you on the sofa, slightly slouching, sweaty and frowning and he thinks, wow, he wants to have it framed.

you look unconvinced.

“us cleaning the apartment is an event in our married life that’ll make us cry when we’re old?”

“well, we’ll never believe that we actually cleaned this place unless we got proof.”

honestly, if you were to tell atsumu now that this place — the apartment he’s standing in at this exact moment — is the same exact barren and empty place from one year ago, he would not believe you at all.

it’s so much different now than how it was back then.

aside from the fact that the two of you actually have furniture now, it’s the amount of picture frames and photo albums that litter your home that really throws him off guard.

back then, it really had just been the two of you figuring things out for yourselves.

osamu had always been busy trying to kickstart onigiri miya, kita and the others had all left for college in different places, and the new faces that surrounded you and atsumu felt too unfamiliar for you both to actuallu feel less alone.

so yes, whilst the two of you did have each other, the sad truth of it was the two of you only had each other.

atsumu looks at you over on the couch, still melting into the cushions as you mumble your complaints.

it’s so much more different now.

now, there are 14 picture frames on the walls throughout the halls of your apartment. each one containing a photo of you, atsumu, the friends you both made, the friends that you’ve had since forever ago.

there’s a photo of you in between the twins in front of the first building osamu rented for onigiri miya on it’s opening day (osamu has the exact same photo framed next to his bedside table).

there’s another of you, atsumu, shoyo, bokuto and sakusa on natsu’s graduation day (shoyo keeps this photo on the back of his phonecase).

and as atsumu’s personal favorite: a photo of the old inarizaki high school volleyball team crammed together to fit in one frame, with you and him in the middle.

the picture perfectly captures the horrified and surprised expressions of his teammates as he announced “we’re married!” right in the middle of it.

(of course, such announcement earned him a solid left hook from osamu and a matching knee to the groin from suna.

you, on the other hand, received a short kiss on the temple from kita and a warm embrace from aran as they both said their congratulations.)

but, like he said before, it’s much more different now. the apartment isn’t as empty or as barren.

instead, it is cluttered and littered with mementos and knick knacks, and there’s always a vase full of fresh flowers somewhere (sometimes from atsumu, sometimes from you, sometimes from osamu when he visits, or sometimes from kita when he’s in town.)

there is the smell of cooking in the air and the sound of dancing in the halls, and the floorboards creak at the amount of people it carries.

“you realize if we ever decide to move places, it’ll be hell on earth trying to fit all our things in boxes.”

there’s a soft tune playing in the background coming from the radio.

he looks over to you, “we can always ask kita and the others for help.”

there are picture frames on the walls, there’s a calendar with circled days and names of dinner dates, there’s a vase full of flowers from osamu.

“nuh uh, no way,” you shake your head vigorously, “we are never asking kita for help ever again.”

atsumu walks over to your spot on the couch, getting comfortable next to you, “i thought we liked kita’s help.”

you shake your head again, pointing to one of the photos on the wall, specifically the time the two of you went on your three day long tokyo trip.

“do you not remember what happened when we asked kita to house sit for us last year?”

( to be clear: kita is an amazing housesitter.

truly, he is the best and no one else can top him.

which is exactly why you and atsumu agreed to never ever ever ask him to housesit for the two of you ever again. you two simply did not deserve it. )

the first and last time kita offered to housesit was when you and atsumu took a three day trip to tokyo as a hard-earned vacation after four months of living together all alone.

it was the first trip the two of you ever took together as a married couple, and when you got back to the apartment, three days later, kita had cleaned every surface and every corner of the flat. the clothes had been rearranged neatly, shelves dusted and wiped, the laundry done and folded — even the groceries had been restocked.

the two of you were horrified to come back to such cleanliness, and atsumu cried and you did too and kita only laughed and asked what else he could do.

“okay, no kita.” atsumu nods in agreement now, and then he hums, “what ab’t suna?”

you shake your head again, “he’s definitely not going to agree to helping us.”

“he will if ye’r the one who asks.” your husband gives you a knowing smile, and then he huffs, “what’s the deal with that anyway?”

“i’m nice and people have a hard time saying no to me.” is your short response, and he rolls his eyes, because, he too, has a hard time saying no to you.

out of all of your high school friends, you and suna had always been the closest, and now, even with the distance and all that, suna still always buys you dinner when he visits you and the twins, and every single time he drops by, he always insists that he just so happened to be in the area, that’s all.

your apartment is a museum of every person you and your husband has ever loved.

“do you think our friends help us out so much because they think we’re lame and pathetic?”

“we are not lame.” atsumu tells you, and you feel him sink deeper into the couch with you, “pathetic, yes, but we are so not lame.”

the picture frames suddenly don’t feel enough anymore. the knick knacks, and the souvenirs, and the silly little mementos. they all don’t feel enough anymore.

“why are we even talking about this?” you feel silly, and you give your husband a short laugh, “it’s not like we’re moving anytime soon anyway.”

your apartment is small, not that impressive, not that pretty, and the floor creaks at the amount of people it carries.

but there is the smell of cooking in the air and the sound of dancing in the halls.

atsumu will invite your friends over for dinner and they will say yes (always) and there will be fresh flowers, coats on the coatrack, and shoes by the doorway.

they will kiss and hug you before they come in, and they will kiss and hug you before they leave.

and you know, without a doubt, that if you ever ask any of them for help, they will come running without any questions asked.

you almost think its unfair at how kind they treat the two of you, and sometimes, you think its because they think the two of you can’t handle all of it alone.

but in reality, when osamu feels the coldness of the night hit him when he’s all alone, he packs bento boxes and onigiris in a paper bag and drives without a second thought to see you and his brother — he’ll complain about atsumu’s messiness and insult his etiquette when it comes to eating, but then he asks to spend the night, and he doesn’t feel so cold or as alone anymore.

and sometimes, kita still offers to housesit every now and then, his personal excuse to come visit the two of you and the rest of your friends for a few days at a time. he’ll stay in your apartment and see the pictures of him on the wall, one with the old inarizaki high school team, and one where it’s just you, him and atsumu, and he feels the pinpricks of tears well in his eyes when he stares at them for too long (so he cleans, folds, and gets groceries).

“if we do move though,” atsumu leans closer to you, and his touch is welcome as you adjust to be in his embrace, “samu and suna still promised us a favor for when they crashed here last month.”

he gives you an award winning smile.

“we cannot possibly ask them to do all the work for us.”

his smile drops a little bit.

and you grin back at him, “surely, we can rope in shoyo and the others too.”

“i have never been prouder of you than i am right in this moment.”

[matsunshine]

omg i get another chance tomorrow!! and after tomorrow i get another chance!!! and after that another!!?!

[matsunshine]

[matsunshine]

PSA

Just a heads up, there are bots going around on AO3 accusing people of using AI. Considering the timing, this is likely AI bros' retaliation for AO3 users calling them out for scraping their work. Examples of what you might be sent:

Screenshots from here.

If you get a comment like this, just report for spam and delete.

[matsunshine]

an unfortunate fact about dating elementary school teacher! SUGAWARA is that he will baby you when you nag him. and he will do so shamelessly.

like when you get mad and are yelling at him for arriving home seven minutes after he promised he would be home, he will kindly ask if you are hungry and want a snack. or if your favourite snack snack isn't in the house, would you like him to go to the nearby corner shop and buy it for you? and it will completely throw you off and make you forget why you were even mad at him in the first place; which is irritating! because why are the tactics he uses on six year olds so effective ?!?! why is this crazy man trying to gentle parent you rn !?!

or when you get frustrated with him for whatever reason on his day off, he'll sweetly ask you if you want to take a nap with him. and of course you're like no?? i'm at angry at you rn. and he's like okay.. so perhaps a hot bath? maybe a snuggle?

smh smh smh and this is the man you want to marry too. the man who tries to distract you by putting on your favourite movie or a new episode of your favourite reality show whenever he can sense you are about to get upset with him.

[matsunshine]

F1 AU mclaren's annoying driver lol oikage hate(love) this man

[matsunshine]

"atsumu," you whisper hiss, crossing your arms and glaring at the back of his head from the bathroom door, "what the hell are you doing?"

he freezes, almost comically so and turns around. a bottle of bleach is raised in his right, ungloved nonetheless, hand and he gives you a sheepish grin.

"hey pretty, what are ya doing up so late?"

you squint hard, pursing your lips.

"what are you doing up so late?"

he pouts and sets the bleach down with a whine.

"my roots were showin'! i had to fix it."

"it is 3am, miya. it is 3am and you are clanging around in my bathroom, leaving me in bed all cold and alone."

as if to prove your point, you shiver slightly, flimsy pajama shorts and his shirt doing little to warm you.

"i hate when you call me that."

you sigh and yawn, he's giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes and as pissed as you are about being woken up, you cant help but soften a little bit.

"hand me the bleach you dummy, you missed a bunch of spots."

atsumu smiles widely and hands you the bottle, you snap on the disgarded pair of gloves on the counter and get to work.

"i love ya," he mumbles, kissing your forehead as he crouches down, letting you massage the bleach into his hair.

"love you too... even though you wake me up at ungodly hours of the morning for vanity reasons."

[matsunshine]

[matsunshine]

why are terrible celebrity imagines so funny. how do i find more of these without suffering the indignity of searching “bts imagines”

[matsunshine]

suna "we're just friends" rintaro who's actually in a secret relationship with you, but feels the need to keep it a secret until it gets more serious because he's scared. except the miya twins have caught on, and they have a running bet going for who's going to spill first. atsumu thinks suna would rather keel over than admit to them he's dating someone, but osamu is smugly convinced that his friend's resolve is weaker than yours. so they decide to put it to the test.

it starts off . . . weird. osamu is putting moves on you, and you have no idea what to make of it. he's asking to walk you home and tells you that you should come to watch them practice. he even shoves atsumu out of their usual seat in the cafeteria to invite you to sit next to him. he seems really interested in you, and you don't want to be mean, but you also can't lead him on.

you're too focused on osamu's strange behavior to notice that he only acts this way when suna is around. so you don't see the way your boyfriend clenches and unclenches his fists when he overhears osamu wanting to walk you home after school. you don't hear the huff he lets out or how he slams his locker door a little harder when osamu invites you to watch them play with a well practiced smile. and you certainly don't realize the sheet white paleness that grows on his face when osamu shoves atsumu off the bench to make space for you.

suna doesn't blame you. his friends are idiots and getting on his last nerve. but everything comes to a screeching halt when osamu puts his arm around your shoulder, and suna absolutely loses it.

"we're dating!" it's the closest he gets to yelling without actually, but it's loud.

"damn it!" atsumu shouts, but suna doesn't hear. he practically has tunnel vision, zeroed in on where osamu connects to you.

"we're dating," he repeats through gritted teeth. "so get your grimy slimy spiker little hands—" he stalks over to osamu with surprising speed to knock his hand off of you, "off of my—"

"rintaro," you scold softly, and the twins try not to react when their usually unbothered and finicky middle blocker . . . listens?

"he—you're my—i'm—" he erupts in an aggravated groan and quickly decides to pull you to his side, away from osamu.

suna starts mumbling things under his breath they can't hear. his words are clearly reserved only for you, but the twins watch quietly anyway as you smooth away the worry lines growing on his face from his furrowed eyebrows and press a soft kiss to his cheek that has leaves them dusted in the slightest pink. he's whipped, and suddenly the only thing the miyas could think of was—how the hell did they not notice sooner?

yes i'm a soft lovesick sunarin truther. that man is a simp and i take no arguments

[matsunshine]

🍙💕