#that means a lot to me <3

[osamusriceballs]

The Accident - Part XIII

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: None

Words: ~ 1,4 k

About: Still problems in paradise.

Part I II -> Next Part

7 missed calls from Atsumu Miya

3 new messages on your mailbox

25 new text messages from Atsumu Miya

"Looks like someone's really eager to talk to you," the taxi driver comments when your phone won't stop ringing, but you just snort and finally turn off your phone. "Seems like it, yeah." He raises an eyebrow at your resigned tone but tactfully keeps any further comments to himself, a gesture you appreciate at the moment.

Your whole body feels numb.

You're furious with Atsumu, that's certain. Part of you wants to confront him, ask how he could sink so low as to cheat on his girlfriend – heck, how he could marry you without telling her. Another part just feels sad and disappointed, just wanting to go back home and get some sleep, hoping things will seem better with time. Maybe you'll find out that all of this is just a bad joke, just a misunderstanding. Perhaps she's not his girlfriend – maybe she is someone who misunderstood that he's married and just had no idea that it's you. But why did she claim to have him in the palm of her hand?

You fight back tears and take a deep breath through your nose, thankfully almost home at this point. You won't try to reach out to him. Not after tonight. He'll either contact you tomorrow and explain everything, or you'll not see him again.

xxx

"He hasn't tried to contact you?" Yachi looks at you with sad puppy eyes while she applies a soft pink polish on her nails. You shake your head and hold your cup of tea a bit tighter. The TV quietly plays a movie in the background, something you two don't really focus on right now, especially not since you're finally talking about Atsumu.

"He called a few times during the night, but after that, nothing. Complete silence. I can't even see his profile picture anymore. I think he blocked me." You swallow the heavy lump in your throat at this words. He blocked you. Like you're some kind of obsessed fan or just a nuisance to him.

It's been a week now since it happened. You expected him to at least call again or maybe even visit your apartment after not seeing you for so long, but nothing. He hasn't bothered even giving you the slightest sign of life. But your heart clenched when you saw that he had updated his Instagram profile today with pictures of him at Onigiri Miya's – and you found the strawberry tiramisu that you both had shared the other day among the pictures, you just can't understand why he would do that.

Yachi closes the small lid and looks at you with anger coating her face while she carefully reaches for her phone. "I'll call Hinata and ask—"

"No!" You shake your head energetically, and Yachi lowers her hand. "Please don't bring him into it. It's embarrassing enough that I thought we had something going on." You bury your face in your hand and sigh, and Yachi quickly wraps her arms around you in a comforting way while making sure her fingers don't smudge her polish.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never thought he was seeing someone. Hinata also had no idea, I guarantee it. He would have told me instantly if he knew. And Kageyama would have told me as well. They will give him an earful once they know."

You smile bitterly but still feel a bit better at the thought of cute sunshine Hinata yelling at Atsumu. "It's okay; it's not your fault. I'll forget about him. Just another year, and then I'll completely cut him out of my life."

You smile weakly, finally returning the hug with the mug still in your hand. It's time to forget about him. You'll see him in about a year, and that will be the last time. You'll make sure of that.

"Before I forget, Hinata asked if you received the cards for the Olympics match. You don't have to go, but if you want to, he'd be glad for you to come. He really likes you."

"I'll think about it. It's in a few weeks, right? I don't know if I want to see Atsumu so soon again. But maybe for some sort of closure?" You pull back and look at her with furrowed brows, and she nods at your words.

"I get it. But I'm still really disappointed in him. I really thought he's a good guy."

"Me too." You smile sadly, thinking about the pretty woman in the elevator, feeling a pang in your heart.

A part of you is still longing for him. He makes you feel good, he makes you feel desirable and beautiful. He makes you feel like you matter to him, like you're having a part of his heart. Yet, he hasn't told you about that woman, and it makes you feel dirty. The fact that he hasn't reached out after that night is enough to make you want to forget him and erase any foolish hope that this is just a misunderstanding. It's bitter reality.

You just need to make it clear to your heart that Atsumu Miya is no longer part of your life.

xxx

"Samu, she hates me."

"Yeah, and she has every reason to."

Osamu sighs as he watches Atsumu, a big pathetic clump of sadness practically lying on his counter. Atsumu is in no condition to drive home, and Osamu is well aware of that, already planning to drive to his apartment before he can finally go to his own bed. Since that incident a month ago, Atsumu has become unstable, getting drunk every other night, setting up a dangerous routine. Knowing he has an important match coming up doesn't stop him. Volleyball, always his top priority, now takes a back seat to his misery. Not even Bokuto can cheer him up, and Hinata is suspiciously avoiding him. He suspects Yachi finally told him what happened, though Hinata hasn't mentioned it.

"I even posted a pic of me being here tonight. She didn't come."

"You post pictures of being here almost every night. You can't tell me you expected her to come after parting like that? And you know that there's still the chance that she met her on her way downstairs." Atsumu sighs, slowly lifting his head at Osamu's sharp response. His face is red, eyes red-rimmed – a side effect of the alcohol. He looks horrible, and it actually pains Osamu to see him like this.

"Shut it. I'll call her. I got a new number today. I can call her now; I was just waiting for the right moment."

Osamu hesitates but decides it might be good for Atsumu to finally reach out, after being unable to do so during the past few weeks. Doubtful you'll answer, it's late after all, but maybe when you listen to the whole story and if Atsumu does a lot of groveling and explaining- then maybe you two still have a chance. Osamu still has no idea what kind of fate brought the two of you together, but he is certain that you'd make a great couple. If only his twin had a few more brain cells and a bit more luck.

Atsumu has finally managed to find your contact and started a call, which got directed to your mailbox after a few moments. He clears his throat and straightens his posture before he begins to talk, almost looking like his usual self.

"Y/N? It's me, Atsumu. I know it's been a while, but I'm sorry for everything. I couldn't call or text, but I miss you." He sighs and covers his eyes. "I miss you a lot, actually, I've been thinking about you every day ever since that night. I know it's all kind of messed up, but I can explain everything. Please, just let me. Please, y/n. I don't... don't want to lose you." Atsumu takes a deep breath and ends the call, his hands slightly shaky now.

"That was... corny." Osamu cringes, wiping the counter and putting Atsumu's beer aside.

"That's it – my last try of reaching out to her. If she's not answering, I'll just let her go." Atsumu's words are a bit slurred, but Osamu still gets it. He prays you'll listen – or else he'll be in trouble.

xxx

You wake up to a missed call and a message on your voicemail from an unknown number. Probably spam.

Without thinking twice, you delete the message.

[rist-ix]

Hey there!

I've been reading (and loving!) you stories for years now, and while I think they were always great, I think you really developed your writing style, like the descriptions, inner monologues, the language itself, etc. Like seriously, your writing is better written than a lot of novels I read.

I know that practise makes perfect, but also... how old are you? Sorry, if it's too personal, don't respond if you're not comfortable sharing that. :)

That is fanTASTIC to hear, thank you so much! How my own writing changes over time is one of those things I don’t notice at all, so it’s great to know other people can tell. I‘ve turned 22 this year, so I’ve got a few years of fanfic under my belt lol

[ask-bendy-redrawn]

Just checked this out and dang. This is one of my new fav blogs. Keep up the good work.

THANK YOU 🩷🩷😭

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[sparkleofstardust]

in light of the recent news that Iranian President Ebrahim Raisi has been found dead after a helicopter crash you might be wondering 'who the hell is this guy and why are so many people celebrating his death??' and i'm here to answer that!

to fully understand what's going on we need to look into Iran's history: when the Iranian revolution in 1979 happened the authoritarian king who was ruling at that time was overthrown, but the ensuing power vacuum lead to the islamic regime seizing power and establishing Iran as an islamic republic

the following years were incredibly cruel to the Iranian people; thousands of people (especially minorities) have been protesting against the strict islamic regime leading to many being jailed, tortured and executed.

and this is where Raisi played a big part: in 1988 he was part of a committee that ordered the execution of thousands of political prisoners who were protesting the islamic regime, earning himself the title of "the butcher of tehran"

do not be fooled by what the state media wants you to believe, the Iranian people are celebrating his death. he was a cruel mass murderer who has destroyed the lives of thousands of people, his death should be used as a time to mourn for all the suffering he has caused, and bring new attention to the political prisoners still being held in Iranian prisions today

because sadly the fight is far from over. many of you have probably heard of the murder of Mahsa Jina Amini back in 2022, causing a new wave of nationwide protests and establishing the "woman, life, freedom" movement. the regime has gotten increasingly cruel in their treatment of the Iranian people, especially women, but the people of Iran are not deterred and keep fighting for a free Iran.

if you want to know how you can help, please keep talking about us. the one thing the regime hates is international attention, and in the past it has been proven that international pressure has stopped the regime from executing various political prisoners. people like Toomaj Salehi are under imminent threat of execution and spreading their names could save their lives. so whether you share social media posts or talk to your family and friends about what is happening in Iran, anything helps 🙏🏼

jin, jiyan, azadi ✌🏼

[steelsuit]

Vampire Spawn 🩸🦇

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[egophiliac]

ENG PLAYERS I BESEECH YOU

I have been informed that you guys are getting part 4 of episode 7 tomorrow, which means we are FINALLY going to get the official romanization of Revaan's name, somebody please tell me because I need to know what it is.

like, yes, it's probably just Revan/Levan, but look, I'm sitting here with my finger over the button of all these Laverne and Shirley jokes and just waiting for the opportunity to deploy them --

[girlboyburger]

had an identity crisis, prime time for a slight sona redesign!

it's cow! (again!)

+ a closeup because i'm really proud of the eyes

[astrallar]

"the WHAT"

[kimtaegis]

JIN HUGS JIN HUGS! for @jinstronaut ♡

cr. namuspromised, dwellingsouls, 0613data

[diamondsheep]

East Blue Crew ✨ !!!

[stil-lindigo]

reverb in an empty hall.

prints (all proceeds go towards aid for Gaza)

[hinamie]

色彩 [Shikisai]

[zephyrchama]

You're in your room in the House of Lamentation, held down by the Avatar of Lust. He's got you secured in place just the way he wants you - back against the bed, face up towards the ceiling, eyes closed for the moment. He sits on your stomach with a brush in hand. Two heavy pouches are on your chest containing everything from basic moisturizer to specialized lip oils in a rainbow of colors.

"Just going to blend this a bit here," Asmodeus murmurs to himself. He adds another layer of eye shadow while returning to his story, recounting the time he watched a Little D try to rob a pastry shop. Absolutely hilarious, it was like a comedy sketch. You feel the gentle yet purposeful dab of the brush tugging at your skin and wonder if Asmodeus can see you blushing under the foundation he applied.

Every couple of minutes, he rakes his nails over your head as if moving hair aside. Powder is sprinkled on your face, making your nose tickle. You twitch and sniffle.

"Ah-ah! Patience!" he chides. The weight on your stomach shifts and the offending dust is blown off by a warm gust of Asmodeus' breath. It smells like berries. The sensation lingers on your mind more than the setting powder.

"Just leave everything to me. Your eyes are done now, so... Part your lips a little?"

His thumb is already on your lower lip, the rest of his fingers cupping your chin. You hear the clinking of glass as he roots around for something in the makeup bag. His pinky finger taps against your neck to the unmistakable rhythm of his favorite song. "That's my dear. Juuust like that."

His story now done, Asmodeus moves on to talking about his plans for the rest of the week. He's expecting a package from a new brand deal that's already been delayed twice and the company refuses to apologize. "Can you believe that?"

Your lips are wet and sticky from a fresh coat of... something artificially sweet. You don't respond, but his question was rhetorical anyway. On a whim, you flutter your eyes open. Asmodeus is leaning over you like a master craftsman lost in the trance of work. He's so close that the ceiling is totally obscured and you can almost make out your reflection in his pupils. It takes until he finishes swabbing something on your philtrum to notice that you're focused his way.

The instant he meets your gaze is obvious. He cracks a stunning smile, his face softens. He sets his tools aside, lining them up next to you. You feel his legs tighten around your ribs and he chokes back a giggle.

"Aah! I can't take this. You're so kissable, but that'd ruin all the work I just did! You're a sinful human, you know that?"

Asmodeus seems to be mulling over something in his head, but the way you smirk in response sends him over the edge. His lips are meeting yours. His palm hoists up the back of your head so he can make more skin contact without smearing your cheeks. The bags in his way prevent him from going overboard, but there's pressure on your chest as he pushes down to see just how far he can go.

With a final "mmph," he pulls away so you can breathe again, taking pleasure in the way your body moves to gasp down air. You wonder exactly what he's painting on your face, as his lips are a bright pink reminiscent of his sin color.

"There! Now we match."

[lyrelyrepantsonfiree]

this year’s rewatch hittin hard