#���— flying around collecting pollen—queue

[soranihimawari]

Sign here

Or a short story about a new banker y/n willing to give Miya Osamu the business loan he deserves!

Based on @haebai-png ‘s Osamu: Work

This platinum almost out grown roots mean sits across from your desk. The bank today is filled with a few applicants and others doing their daily errands. After reading his letter of recommendations along with the deed of an older arcade going out business, you make sure you cleared every check box for this young entrepreneur. Ok, maybe not so young, you two seem to be of the same age, yet for lack of better understanding, you keep that comment to yourself.

You clear your throat and say between clicking and typing on your end, “You’re that onigiri guy I’ve been seeing at the local street vendor days in the park, right?”

His ears perk up and then turn a soft shade of peach. He’s a bit pale, but you could tell he used to be out in the sun for a while working on his tan…and onigiri of course. Nodding he hums.

“Ya been to the stand before?” He nervously chuckles as you hum.

“Killer combos dude and that umami?! To die for!” You smile.

A few more seconds go by as you’re viewing the final paperwork. He rubs his hands together silently praying for approval for his first ever shop. You excuse yourself to pick up the printed contract for the business loan, asking your work-senpai to re-read this document to see if there were any errors.

Luckily there were none and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“He looked so sad and nervous coming in,” you explain, straightening out your suit. “I guess he never really had much success trying to get approved…”

You don’t know that Miya Osamu, nearly 27 years old by now, has tried for the past two years to get a business loan. He’s been stuck selling his onigiri out of his truck and or motorbike since his early 20s or at least setting up a small table in the night markets. You’re just lucky you got everyone in your department at the bank to get hooked on his cooking.

Your work-senpai, Ms Miri, hums agreeing.

“In a post pandemic world it’s harder for family owned businesses to stay afloat, but boy did he try his best to save up how much…holy shit!”

She whispers her surprised expression when she sees just how much Osamu is putting down.

“I believe in him. He’ll do well!”

You practically are beaming as you return to your cubicle.

You knock to grab his attention and you wave the papers. He stands, wiping his hands on his pants, holding his hat apprehensively chewing his cheek like he’s pouting.

“Cute,” he hears me quietly say that.

You hide behind the stack of papers clearly embarrassed since you realize what you had said before clearing your throat.

“Ahem, Mr. Miya Osamu?”

“Yes Mx Shinkai?”

You pass him the papers. “I’m elated to report that your business loan and business credit line is now approved. Congratulations and thank for choosing Raiden-Bank to start your ventures.”

He drops his hat as he reaches for the papers.

You pull out a pen with a cap on it, “it’s all there. All you need to do is sign here.”

***short time skip***

Onigiri Miya night before opening day has finally arrived. You are the first person outside of family and friends that is invited to the mock service. The invitation said to only bring yourself, so that is what you did on your late afternoon from work.

You knock on the door and you see that Osamu is alone tonight—his staff probably sent home early to prepare for the grand opening tomorrow.

Osamu spots you at the door and unlocks it for you.

“Come in,” he says as he locks the door behind you.

“Woah, this looks so great!”

You settle into a booth you notice is set up for two. You take your time glancing around the interior. Blowing out a low whistle complimenting him on a job well done. There are various pictures of him and friends and his famous twin brother. Then, there’s one of you on a Polaroid frame eating one of his test creations earlier last month as your friend bloomed.

“Out of all these guys on here, I like this one the most,” he says. Then he has a drafted agreement in his hands.

“And I’m hoping since they believed in me and my onigiri that they’d be co-founder with me? Sign here if ya like.”

And you never reached for your pen fast enough with the broadest smile.

[soranihimawari]

That's my face when I see all of my WIPs waiting for me to click [queue] or [post now, lol.

[soranihimawari]

1/100th of a Second

Or how a poor college student became the sweetheart off a popular rookie athlete in his debut season…

Warnings: none? Just a meet cute at Noehbi…?

Pairings: Bokuto Kotarō x (fem!)reader

Ratings: reunitedbest friends!->lovers

Based on this image i had commissioned from @/rrabittt

Love, as scientific experts say, can change the chemistry of your brain. Love, some romantics who write in the genre, say can happen as often as a clap of thunder in the storm. Love, as you know it, walked into the classroom of your fifth grade class and you feel your young heart fall instantly within 1/100th of a second when your eyes meet the most talkative boy in your class.

Sure, for the next four years, until you enter different high schools, you were inseparable. Taking naps, going to support each other’s sporting events, you name it, he was there for every win and you were there for his. It wasn’t until your middle school year was ending that you had to break the news to him up weren’t able to join him in at Fukurodani. He was devastated and he seemed to visibly deflate and poke around his bento.

“But it’s not like I’m going to be too far away, Bo,” you remind him. “You can always watch my games when I start the season in Hyogo. My mom went to Inarizaki too before moving here to Tokyo for university and she met my dad instantly and kicked off their love story…”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same! You’re gonna be 12+ hours away by bus even more so my walking…”

“The scouts saw me out perform everyone on the team this year even if we didn’t make it to the girls’ junior nationals…’m really sorry bokkun.”

That summer, before you packed up and left, you don’t let the fight you two had nearly three hours before you leave with your parents who would drop you off in another city, stop you from marching to his house in the pouring rain. You pounded on his door and when his older sister answered the door, she leans over her shoulder and you don’t wait for her to return with a towel. For once, you put your heart on the line and in true story book fashion, you bully your way into your best friend’s room:

“Bokuto Kotaru!”

He’s never heard you yet at him, but you at 14 years old knew how to get his attention without the yelling. He hit his growth spurt this year and is now at a comfortable height difference for you to reach up, cup his face and humble him with his first kiss being stolen by you.

“You’re insane,” he mumbles.

“Absolutely stark raving mad,” you jest back before hugging him. “Thought you should know I’ve been wanting to do that since we were ten.”

And so, you leave when he wishes you luck in Hyogo.

Almost a full three years later, you’re back in the city that bared and raised you. Tokyo was ever growing, ever expanding. It would be the same across the country in Hyogo. Sure you were a bit timid even in the past, however ever since your parents decided to split, you find yourself back in your hometown.

It's a weird feeling hearing your old friend in your new high school's gymnasium. Apparently, though you were studying at Nohebi (because they were still accepting transfer students right before the year had started), you happened to join a classmate to oversee her boyfriend's volleyball club training. That's when you see a few of the guys clad in ivory. The third team that were invited were a den of cats, and you seem to pick up this was a pre-pre season face off. Noehbi's vice captain nudges one of the others whom your girl friend from class waves toward and you are introduced to Daisho Suguru. His rival, the tall guy in red, still insults him, but you sort of laugh at their banter. However, your attention goes to the third young man clad in the ivory and gray practice uniform. Sure, you haven't seen each other in three years, but you can tell he sort of filled out: chest and torso was worked out on a weekly focus rotation; his legs were covered with compression leggings which only accentuated his...other assets; and oh my god, you realize he's walking toward you.

"Excuse me," you smile at Daisho and his-your-girl friend, and you respond when you know Bokuto's voice has changed to a little raspier one than before. "Bo?"

"YN?"

You both chuckle and you let Daisho make the call to have the first practice match be between Nekoma (red team you found out later) and Nohebi, begins. WInner of that match will square off with one of the five top aces in the year.

Hours later, you're seen walking in the opposite direction of your own home, reconnecting with the boy you stole your first kiss from at 14. You fill him in on your life, even your parents divorce, "so the judge agreed I was old enough to choose who and where I wanted to live, so I came back home...with my dad."

"Cool, but y'know, 'm sorry they split," Bokuto says, holding your hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Me too, but I'm glad they're living their own truths now," you reply, shyly combing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “I’ll be here through the end of our third year. So, I’ll be seeing you more I guess.”

He hums, nodding along. 

“Once an old friend, always an old friend,” Bokuto beams. 

You don’t bring up the time you literally gave him his first kiss, that memory could burn for all you care. Awkward and all, however that was three years ago and as his house comes to view, he asks you something a bit…sweet?

“Want to come in?” 

You, who think nothing of it, agree, stepping across the threshold of the front door you’ve came through so many times. His house is lively with with sisters and even the eldest one now is finally expanding the family. Her sweet smile invites conversation, but thankfully after you had said your greetings, she understands her kid brother more than anyone else. The middle sisters are gushing over the latest sonograms of their eldest sibling while Bokuto chimes in with being named a godparent almost immediately.

“Well, if I make Koutaro a god parent, then,” his expecting sister glances at you. “I’d have to make you one too I guess.”

Your cheeks are burnt sunset orange when Bokuto pulls you away from the kitchen saying something about homework.

“They are as lively as ever…So, your one-san is expecting? That’s something I wasn’t expecting when you told me she was gonna come home for a few months and travel back I think before she gets too far along…You an uncle? That’s also great too,” you ramble a bit. You take an opportunity to see the achievements he made with being the ace for the volleyball clubs since your move, spotting the article framed of him and his near perfect posture for a pipeline spike. 

“Bokuto,” your voice is gentle. “Why did you invite me inside?”

He places his things down at the corner of his bed before sitting on the edge of it.

“Because I missed you way more than I imagined.”

Considering you’re standing by his desk right now, you arch an eyebrow, but you shrug your shoulders. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t write or call,” you confess. “I didn’t have enough time to ask for a computer at the time. I mean, I had tablets, sure, but we didn’t make it a point to trade social media.”

“Come here,” he holds your hand. You listen to him and walk toward him until you’re close enough he hugs you; a hand of yours rustles his hair. You chuckle slightly amused when he nuzzles his cheek against your torso. 

“Affectionate as always,” he hears you say. His eyes light up and he chooses to ask you something a bit bolder. 

“Mind if I do something?”

You shake your head before asking if he’s attempting to flirt with you (again).

“So what if I am,” Bokuto loves it when you tease him a bit. His lips find yours after he guides you to sit on his lap for a bit. There’s a smile you feel post him pecking your lips as he finally decides to take a chance for you both. For the boy who cares and emotes too much to find the person who inspired him to return after some time, having you return his affections meant the world to him.

So when future you had honed your skills in obtaining your degree in public relations, you stand in the press room with the rest of the rookie volleyball players from the Monster Generation, a sparkly stone shines on your finger when just a regular ace answers a question from the press.

[soranihimawari]

Summer Breeze

Inspired by this dialogue prompt.

On the eve of the local Tanabata Festival, you are called over to the house of one of your former classmates. The Miya house has seen it's fair share of arguments, fights, and to balance that out, there were movie nights, game nights, etc. It's the summer after high school graduation and to be honest, the time to act before university comes to separate the old band of friends has arrived.

This will be the last summer you spend with your friends since the fourth grade. Sure, you've prepared yourself and even cried a little with Aran and Kita leaving to pursue their dreams elsewhere, thus entrusting their team of unruly foxes to a person whom could keep them in line. You were voted in by the team as the manager for this past year and you did your job well. You fulfilled your duties by breaking up many a sibling squabble, scolded SunaRin for wanting to post the *most* unflattering pics of the team on their social media page, and quite frankly you stood up for the guys when you heard other teams underestimate them. You might have not played the game on a court in person before, but hell hath no fury like you when you overheard some would be losers badmouth the boys who dedicated themselves to not leaving any memories behind.

As you pass by the familiar campus grounds, you see there are some kids from the middle school next door practicing some passes and bumps in the now empty courtyard. You mutter to yourself they ought to enjoy what team bonds they do have because before they know it, three years will go by in a flash,

"It most certainly did for us," you mumble with a smile.

A few minutes later, you hang a right to the familiar neighborhood several bus stops from yours. You see the familiar hanging plants of the Miya matriarch hanging off from the side of the porch. To be honest, you were surprised Osamu was the one to call you over. Then again, you remember hearing whispers of Atsumu finally going on that date with Nakamura-chan from the drama club.

Luckily for you, it was just Osamu at home for the hour since his mom did step out for some grocery shopping. You walk up to the door and knock, surprised to see Osamu with a cross expression. It seemed you weren't there in time to break up another sibling squabble.

"Are you ok?" you ask, tilting his face this way and that, making sure all cuts or scrapes are with a bandage. "Why didn't you call me sooner?"

"Because I didn't want you to ask, don't ask," he says gruffly.

"Fine, fine, I won't, but holy shit," I let his face go. "How many hits did you get on Atsumu if you look like this?"

At that remark, Osamu chuckles. "He asked me to hit him where his date wouldn't be ruined, so I popped him in the ribs before I tackled him to the ground."

"Attaboy," I chuckle. "So...you called me over? Do you need help changing the bandages?"

Silence fills the air as Osamu, who usually has a smart remark, stays relatively quiet. He says he's appreciative of your concern, yet if you could hear how loud, how fast his heart is beating, you might think he'd have a conniption.

“Osamu? Are you disassociating again?”

Your voice pulls him out of the space he’s staring off into and he clears his throat to apologize.

“What’s gotten into you lately? You’ve been spacing out for seconds, minutes at a time, then when you come back, you can’t look me in the eye… did I do something?”

Modesty isn’t a thing most Miyas knew about, so Osamu just blurts out:

"I can't stop thinking about kissing you."

For a moment, you give him this curious look. It’s as if you couldn’t believe he just blurted it out, but you remember who you’re talking to. Smiling you tilt your head to one side and walk up to him. Looping arms around his shoulders, hearing his breathing stutter a little, you coyly ask:

“And what are you going to do about that that?”

Hearing him chuckle before he caresses my cheek signifies there is hope for us yet.

[hxvemxnd]

☆～（ゝ。∂）

// Consider this a mini (not) hc dump of some things that have been kinda rolling around in my vacancy of a head, all about Zazie and their swarm hive. This is entirely headcanon, and probably disproved by the manga somewhere, but I'm enjoying making my little bug vibe how they do so y'know. canon divergency smthn smthn--

// Zazie is not a single being - even as the one form you see them. Yes, obviously, they have thousands upon millions of insects that they monitor at all times, but even more than that. Zazie themselves is almost like a 'council', a dozen or so bugs that make up the main collective, who function to keep track of the hive and keep them prosperous. These are your 'queens' of the world, the insects and pests that function in colonies and have a centralized unit by which everything is directed. Zazie as a single unit, the 'human form' you see, is actually that collection of creatures who function to keep their hive running smoothly. Zazie's parts that make them up do die, and as they do they get replaced by new hive that gets shared a cross them the memories of the others and so their life as 'Zazie' continues.

// And on that note - Zazie's swarm hive as I'll call them is a collection of a HUGE variety of species. As symbiotic relationships grew in a barren wasteland of a desert that is our lovely little setting here, the hive became almost more self-aware in a sense? More sentient? Often times Zazie will save species that perform vital roles by introducing them into the swarm hive, and as a result they've collected a huge variety of species - including ones that don't typically adhere to a hive type setting. Y'know. Like the worms. But also arachnids, all variety of insects and pollenators. They aren't necessarily the ones like on Earth, but a lot of them evolved to look very similarly like the dragonflies we see in canon. If just a touch bigger.

// Now, when including species that aren't their own, they have to find a way to communicate. I haven't really thought about the logistics of how it occurred, but the planet is almost magic itself and Zazie is able to use some of that for the good of the planet. They are the living embodiment of the planet, but more that they bend to her will rather than Zazie forcing their own will of sorts. With that all being said - Zazie can mind link any willing creature into the hive mind. This CAN work two ways - but for the most part it usually works one, which is allowing the collective to see into that creature's mind and eyes, and allow them to place thoughts and their own input. This can ALSO work as them allowing you to see the hivemind, of the chaos they deal with day to day... But really only happens when welcoming a new bug into 'Zazie'

// Finally, Zazie's head is a MESS of overstimulation. Even Zazie, who's done this since what has felt like the beginning of time, frequently gets overwhelmed by the sheer size of the swarm hive and has to find somewhere quiet to hide and listen. They feel everything - every bug hunted or eaten alive, the hot sand against the worms that travel or the sun beating down on the insects flying around. It's overwhelming to any normal person - but even the collective struggles with it as multiple beings sharing a single mind. Their mask is used to help them destimulate because it takes away the senses of the collective in favor of focusing on the hive. It can be as limited as taking away sight, or as intense as losing their smell hearing and taste just for a moment of respite. Zazie wearing the mask while interacting is usually indicative of their brain just being a little too loud.

// Holy shit if you read this far THANK YOU and i hope you enjoyed my word vomit about my baby. I plan on making another hc post but throwing it in my queue for tomorrow about the swarm hive's... Hive. Zazie's first home, their true home, even before humans crash landed on their planet. Stay tuned~!

[soranihimawari]

Fairy Queen & King.

Titania & Oberon

[piecrust432]

🌻🌻🌻Ideas for what I would want in a dream home escape . I might just list a bunch of ideas for what I have in mind. 🌻🌻🌻

[soranihimawari]

I Missed You

Pairing: Oikawa x (gn!) reader

Word Count: tbd

Rating: Oikawa Tooru Fluff [otf]

Warnings: none// reader in timeskip becomes a doctor specializing in aging/older athletes and completing necessary check-ups before a match.

Note: I tried to not tie any gender-specific nouns when describing reader.

How I think OIkawa & reader hug each other after not seeing each other in a long time.

[23:45]

That’s the time stamp you receive on an old friend’s text. There are only three words which the message is comprised of. When you read them aloud to yourself in the comfort of your own home, you seem to repeat them like a mantra.

‘I miss you’

Simple hope draws from this in a way that can’t be described as you stare at your screen until you ultimately lock your phone. You close your eyes for a a few minutes when your brain decides to show you a highlight reel of the activities you used to do with the sender. Learning the rules of volleyball, joining in their team jogging paths, coming to scheduled matches, accompanying him to the nurse’s office when he landed on his feet wrong, etc. He was destined to be famous, just not here at home in Japan, no. Somewhere half a world away called out to him first. Argentina was distant, far, the most you’d ever be separated and even then, the times prior were literally at the start of up schooling lives.

Unfortunately, the last memory behind the closed eyes you see is a bittersweet one: the reality your friend, confidant, (and crush) hits you. You never did want to wind up fighting with him, but for once you’d want him to fight to stay here. With you. As his best friends remind you, you’d be holding him back from his true potential ever since he started practicing with the collegiate teams up the road from where you live—this was where the initial rift began to be drawn between you two.

During lunch one day, you visit his classroom, sitting next to him explaining (or rather complaining) the trouble you were having with a particular class and one of the assignments needed to be completed prior to a content exam.

“Do you ever shut up about schoolwork, yn?”

You pause, a disappointed look heavy on your brow as those within earshot suddenly fall quiet.

“I’m sorry not all of us have a righteous path carved in front of us, Tooru,” the tonality in your voice was one of annoyance. “Some of us have to work even harder to achieve our dreams other than hoping to skip town and follow in their idol’s footsteps.”

Ever since that brief conversation, you and one Oikawa Tooru, are now practically strangers come graduation day. You hear whispers via the third year rumor mill of his accomplishments and his ultimate defeat against both Shiratorizawa and Karasuno. Matches you weren’t there to show your support for, even if Iwazumi Hajime, the ace and vice captain, had invited you because, “it would be nice for him (oikawa) to see a familiar face in the crowd.”

Glancing back at Iwazumi’s moss green eyes and stoic countenance, “and if I recall, it would be nicer if I wasn’t there because it might distract him further. There are plenty of scouts heading to those matches. I’m sure he’d catch one of their eyes.”

“And if those scouts ask him to move to another country, are you really going to be ok with not saying your goodbyes when we graduate, yn?”

You aggravatedly sigh at him, muttering an annoyed, “Yes, Iwazumi-kun, even then.”

Many months later, post Oikawa's jog in the winter while watching the Karasuno v Inarizaki match, it is now springtime. You’re holding a bouquet of flowers from your parents who pose with you for pictures around the inner school gates of Aoba Josai’s campus. Your fellow classmates and club members surround you for more photos as well. This was going to be one of the final memories you have for your high school career. You were accepted into a university specializing in biomedical engineering with a strong focus on exercise science.

This was your dream, not necessarily the same path as Iwazumi’s to become an athletic trainer, no, however you had wanted to be a doctor whose focus would help restore and maintain older athlete’s bodies even post retirement. Helping those who had maybe one or two career setbacks was something which had captivated you the more you began to focus on the life sciences of your high school careers and with the help of those teachers, they had written for you a brilliant recommendations to boost your acceptance after passing the various university exams.

[13:43]

In your office nearly a decade later from high school graduation, sits your newest patient. He comes from Argentina, like your nurses tell you, but the rumor that he had come on a friend's recommendation is what actually piques your interest. Well, to be fair, two of your friends' personal recommendation are what causes you to raise your eyebrow. The nurse on duty that day takes his vitals as normal, asks him the routine questions before giving him the proper spiel of, "sit tight and the doctor will see you in a few minutes."

Oikawa Tooru has come home for several reasons. The only one on the top of his list is coming home for an exhibition match game he was invited to by the former captain of Nekoma and now representative of the JVA. However, when word reaches Iwazumi's camp in the national team's gym, he smirks, sending a text halfway across the world. Your name is thrown into the mix of doctors who are willing to examine older, closer to retirement age, athletes. Considering this was not how he had wanted to spend his second day back in his home country, Oikawa Tooru asks to book this appointment to get an all clear before playing the V-League exhibition match Kuroo talked him into attending.

You are reading over the file of the new patient outside of the room in the hallway. You scan over the various ticks he had made on the questionnaire along with your nurse who says that his young son looks up to Oikawa-san as a professional volleyball player.

"Repeat that one more time, Sato-san," you clear your throat when Sato-san repeats what he had said earlier.

"My son is as huge fan of Oikawa-san," he points to the name at the top of the document in your hand.

Right there, next to Sato-san, the nurse's pointer finger, is the kanji of the name of a person you thought about since your high school, university, and medical school graduation days. You clear your throat, thanking Sato for his time measuring the vitals of the next patient in the room you're about to enter.

"No prob doc," is all Sato says when he walks back to the nurse station leaving you to enter the examination room where an old flame sits.

You take a deep breath prior to knocking and entering. You open the door and you see OIkawa bent over on the examination bed, reading something on his phone. His hair is cropped shorter, his shoulders are a bit broader, his skin a bit tanner, and for lack of better words, his muscles quite filled out the rest of him. He's still humming a tune you're unfamiliar with until your shoes enters his field of vision.

"Hello Tooru," your voice causes him to freeze and immediately causes his eyes to avert away from his phone. "It's been a while."

Oikawa's coffee-colored eyes study your face and the recognition hits him like a truck. Although he is dressed in a sky blue buttoned blouse and dark jeans compared to your teal scrubs and white lab coat, he stands up, arms extended to crush you in a hug. His patient file falls to the floor when you hug him back.

You hear him for the first time since that argument long ago, voice wobbly and all, "I missed you."

[soranihimawari]

Listen: this film is a great adaptation of the comic book. I love both mediums, however these lines at the end are amazing.

“Did you see the way that little girl looked at me? Kids. Little kids. They grow up believing that they can be a hero if they drive a sword into the heart of anything different. And I’m the monster? I don’t know what’s scarier. The fact that everyone in this kingdom wants to run a sword through my heart or that sometimes I just wanna let ‘em.” “We have to get you out of here. Over the wall. We won’t stop until we find some place safe, okay? We’ll go. Together. No matter what we do, we can’t change the way people see us.” “You changed the way you see me... Didn’t you?

NIMONA (2023), based on the comic by ND Stevenson, who came out as transgender in 2022

[ace619305]

[soranihimawari]

Fates Aligned

Word Count: TBD

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x YN!Reader

Rating: AKF (Akaashi Keiji Fluff)

Notes: Josei manga refers to manga which appeals to young adult women. :]

Thinking back on your high school days could pose a problem for you. You're attending your reunion and are amongst friends who are filling you in on their lives: who got married to who, who's adding to their family, and who's dating who. You realize as they talk you become more and more disassociated in the conversation. It's not like you had any juicy gossip to offer--you weren't dating anyone with the prospect of marriage on the way and you definitely weren't expecting an addition to your family except for maybe adopting another kitten to go along with the two year old cat you have waiting for you at home.

As the night progressed, you enjoy a few more drinks and light snacks at your end of the table. That is until you see him. Him, the young man from your past Japanese literature class with stunning gun-blue metal eyes, soft charcoal hair, and quiet nature. His best friend was the loud and often cheery captain of the volleyball team. You remember him as a gentle soul, after all he was much taller than you then. Nowadays, as you over hear of his publishing successes, you are shy to say to you have read many of his publishing house's manga. Your collection is massive, yet no one here would think you were an avid fan.

Until one member of your side of the table brings up a highly popular josei manga title. Your ears perk up as you enter the conversation saying you are an avid fan and reader of the title. A few things to note: the title was published online independently, second, when the copyright was up for renewal, a new publishing company bought it to have the author continue the story, third said author was attending is high school reunion in the pub where you seemed to be gushing over their work.

Whatever you said caused Akashi Keiji to confidently stride up to you and hang out at your end of the table.

"I take it you like that work," he says. "You're, yln yn,m right? Shared a desk with you in Japanese literature."

He seems amused. You seem a bit flustered as you swirl your empty water cup in your hands. You were trying to be a little less drunk before calling it a night.

"You remember me?" you say with a slight scoff. "It's usually hard for people outside of my friend circle here to recognize me. Nice to see you too Akaashi-kun."

He laughs as he clinks glasses with you. As the night progresses, you two become more and more acquainted past the "what happened after university" and the "where/what do you do now" questions.

You were pleased to know he landed a publishing job much like he was impressed your hobby of photography landed you a few lead exposes for National Geographic. Regardless of the years spent apart from that one classroom in Fukurodani, Akaashi lets you in on a little secret.

"You know," he begins. There is a small curl of his lips. "Sitting next to you inspired me to start drawing a little."

"Really? Now that you're a publisher, I didn't think you'd have to be the artist behind the manga," you reply.

"True, but my first manga heroine? She was inspired by you," he said this casually as he pulls out his phone to show you a very rough sketch of a short, limited series run of a manga you read online.

"N-no way," you gasp. You start to see little coincidences of you in the character when you re-read the first few pages and you glance back at Akaashi.

"I was too shy and reserved back then to ask, but," he starts when you hand him his phone back. "Would you like to go out with me sometime? I have a deadline to meet next Thursday, but Friday I am free."

And without missing a beat, you reply.

"Sure, I can be free next Friday. Anything for the author of 'fates aligned': a red string of fate short series," you smile brightly as he chuckles.

[soranihimawari]

120 beats per minute

word count: tbd

pairing: reader x osamu// reader x atsumu

rating: t/m for lor love triangles and sibling violence

it's a funny thing, love. this emotion causes joy, anger, anxiety, so why does your best friend's brother stand before you with a soft smile. a warmth radiating off of him when his hazel graham cracker eyes which match his hair dye chooses to take you in, disheveled hair and all, and spots someone who deserves this sort of rendezvous too. miya atsumu is out of breath and has such a cross expression like he's about to go off on you for no reason, but his words fail him the moment you leap into his arms and he catches you.

ok, maybe if we start at the beginning, you'll completely understand why he's there at your house in an unholy hour of two in the morning.

[[twelve hours ago]]

you leave school in the sunshine afternoon of a day. there is a letter that falls into your school bag. a girl friend of yours invites you the karaoke club. what you didn't know was it was going to be a club building exercise between a few single guys from the volleyball club and your jazz band club. your best friend, the one whom you've been claimed to be inseparable since you were seven. imagine the look on your face when you see him canoodling up to one of the other girls in the group at the couch in the karaoke room. it's your turn to sing and you sing" la vie en rose" in a shaky voice. your eyes don't leave the spot on the couch when the girl from your group stakes her claim on with your best friend's lips. if there is a moment in time your best friend could hear your heart snap it must be the equivalent when your microphone drops to the cushion in the crescendo of the song. you rush out, no word or excuse of an apology. the boys sort of cheer on their teammate's liplocked confession, but two people in the room, your girl friend and one other teammate raises their brow.

you're home when your friends the girl who had invited you and the other teammate decides to text you together. both of them are apologizing saying that you didn't deserve it. they comfort you in their empathetic facetime call with you.

"y'know until that hussy kissed 'samu-kun, i thought he was gonna sit next to you," your girl friend from class nods.

"yeah, yeah!" a miya with blonde hair says. he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of the nose. "my brother is a bit of an oblivious dolt."

"a bit?! my closest friend these past three years whom you've quite literally grew up with yn-san and your brother locking lips with the biggest slut of the year!"

"guys, guys," you sound a little defeated about it. "it's ok. 'm sure 'samu liked her too."

you speak no more of this incident, rather after your friend hangs up first, the older twin brother of the young man you learned to like, suggests something gnarly.

"i like you, why not date me instead?" he's still on facetime and he hears you sniffle once, then twice, then he calmly expresses his brother might be an idiot, but for what it's worth: "i can be greedy too."

"but that's not fair to you," you say, all ounce of rationality makes your heart stutter a bit.

"osamu's an idiot," atsumu retorts. "how can he possibly not adore you?...and in case you've forgotten, yn, i've known you for the same amount of time--i've loved you for longer, trust me. i'm on your side. i just want you to win."

you say nothing as you let atsumu's words both stun and linger in your mind. it stirs something ancient in your wounded heart and immediately, flashbacks of your childhood with the twins play in realtime. for every scrape, ouchie at recess, every tear his brother had by proxy caused, atsumu was there bandaging you up with neosporin, giving you a piggy-back ride home from the playground, made you laugh by inserting jellybeans on his canines on halloween thus chasing you until you fall in his room side by side with him laughing into the night. love, you realize is a double edge of sword.

come the weekend after the karaoke mess, osamu and atsumu are rumoured to have an awful fight in the gym locker room. apparently the rumor was atsumu cornered his brother and charged him the crime of breaking your heart and soiled your self-pride. suna has it recorded the moment aran and kita walk in to the twins being pulled apart. osamu has as bloodied nose and atsumu has a busted lip:

"at least i was honest with my feelings ya scrub! how could you not know?!" atsumu's voice is quieter, angrier.

osamu shakes his head. "how can i when ya always make 'em smile?!"

the twins fought about twelve hours ago, but without warning, you awake to a rapping at your front door. the blue light of the netflix show you were watching were now adding an ethereal glow behind you. your box of tissues after watching the latest episode of a popular k-drama your cousins turned you to for heartbreak. you heard a familiar harsh, yet gentle voice you recognize as belonging to atsumu.

neither of you say anything as you pull back the door further, only to glance at him all aglow with a thin layer of sweat in the cool autumn night. it's a funny thing, love. this emotion causes joy, anger, anxiety, so why does your best friend's brother stand before you with a soft smile. he doesn't even speak your name, yet those memories from earlier replay in your heart of hearts you throw yourself at him and his arms hold you closer to him.

"hi sweetheart," his voice is breathy and deep.

"s'late," you whisper against his skin before he puts you back down to the concrete again.

"i know, but i needed to see you."

"want to come in?"

"maybe some other time," he plays with your hand before raising it to his face, which turns into you cupping his cheek until his breath catches up to him. he breathes normally for a few moments, he tells you about the fight word for word.

"are you alright?" your concerned worried eyes search his face for more minor injuries before you relent after he assures you, he's fine.

"jus' my lip is all," he chortles a little. "what's that pout for?"

you shake your head before standing on your toes to have your lips press against his. you don't have an explanation why you kissed him so when you pull away, his cheeks are a soft hue in the moonlight.

"'m sorry, did that hurt?" you ask and before you could receive an answer, the boy ahead of you smashes his lips on yours.

your hand on his face slides down to his chest, clutching the fabric of his pajama shirt the more you let him kiss you; his hand on your waist, the other cupping the back of your head, he leads you into opening your mouth a little more when he runs his tongues over the grooves of your lips. you gasp a little when you taste the mint of his toothpaste and he licks the salt on the corner of your lips from the tears you cried watching another kdrama recommendation (he knows your routine when something heartbreaking happens in your life).

it's two in the morning, you and miya atsumu have since declared that the hour is meant for the romantics whose heart beats quickly rise to 120 bpm.

[[bonus scene]]

you wake on the couch when you feel atsumu's hand brush back your bangs to tuck them behind your ear. it's a strange habit he developed over the years ever since the autumn of your second year.

"morning sweetheart," his hard g's at the ends of his words still cause your heart to flutter.

you, on the other hand, turn to smile at him from where you slept. someone else pitter patters up to you both, the reason why you slept on the couch in the first place and the reason why you have a row in your fridge dedicated to juice boxes.

"papa, why's da ray o' sunshine on our couch?"

"because," you speak up, stifling a yawn. "ya little gremlin took over my side of the bed!"

the kid runs after you made a monstrous, playful growl, and for what it's worth, the faux blonde who gets to witness this exchange the morning after coming back from an away trip with his team, just counts his lucky stars you answered your door that night. laughter fills the halls and they reach an all-time high with atsumu walking to see you scoop up the proof you two have of your love. the tyke holding on to you saying that they were sorry in between the giggles and kisses you give them; your lover in the doorway leans against it, swears he’s never had his heart this full.

“atsumu, c’mere,” you beckon him as the kid settles down and you maneuver your hold on the child to have them on your hip. with your free hand you smile at him when you trace over that small scar on his lip now nearly a decade old. you and osamu might have made up at the wedding shower, but knowing you were always going to wind up a ‘miya’ was predicted by your family and theirs. the kicker was when you stood in front of atsumu since everyone swore osamu was never going to let you go, but he did. that’s the funny thing falling for both siblings at different stages of your life: osamu was more of a puppy-love, yet atsumu, who seemed to glow like a solar flare, set your soul ablaze with the chemistry he provided you.

currently, atsumu stills breathing ahead of you, pressing his lips on the pad of your fingers before your shared child hides his face in your neck declaring: “papa! just kiss the monster and make ‘em pwetty again! ah miss sunshine!”

a chuckle is heard from you before atsumu kisses you quietly matching his lips to yours on this delightful morning.

you whisper, “i love you, g’morning.”

he in turn, tilts your face up again lingering his lips over yours before humming a quiet, “i love you and i will always remind you how you shine like starlight.”

you took a leap of faith when you kissed him at seventeen years old and now? now, the future has been bright ever since.

[soranihimawari]

That last one though, lol

Forg :(

[soranihimawari]

Woo Me

Quotes for dialogue can be found here.

Pairing: (teacher & childhood friend)Gojo Satoru x (childhood friend) Reader

Rating: GSF (gojo satoru fluff)// childhood friends ->lovers

Word Count: 550

You’ve been friends with one Gojo Satoru since your childhood. You two grew up together side by side and though now in your late twenties, you’ve come to realize through all the ups and downs life has thrown both your ways, you sort of love having him around. Witty comebacks and playful annoying bantering with him always seems to have cheered you up. Him calling you on several occasions, “my one and only,” seems like a drunk fever dream, regardless, here you are in a small cafe sitting across from him. He seems troubled by something, perhaps a paper or two from what his students submitted earlier last week. On your end, though you have a free afternoon, you do still have little recollection of the evils your friend has spared the world from. Surely, you’ve heard family members of his call him, “the strongest,” but you never really asked him about it. You’ve drawn imaginary conclusions in your head what it meant for your dear friend to be called that, however you push those thoughts aside for a moment when you realize his eyes, apparently all six of them, are on you. Through his stunning set of ice blues, you see your reflection in them and the words he had spoke into the air seemed to have been repeated.

“I need just one date.” 

In your head, you think you’re dreaming, yet the warmth of the coffee in your coffee mug tells you otherwise. This dear, is reality and so with a skeptical look, you give the twenty-something year old man a flirtatious look. For being the same age, you two have had your fair share of listening to each other babble on about awkward first dates with new partners, not necessarily giving the other the chance to be said partner. 

With Gojo’s statement though, you seem to return your face back to a playfully neutral one. It’s an expression he has grown to love over the years of being in your company. 

“You think you can woo me with just one date?” 

You ask this as if he hasn’t planned the perfect ideal date for you two since he was about eleven years old: it was supposed to be to the botanical gardens when your favorite flowers were blooming. You told him once you loved the scents and beauty of lavender–it wasn’t necessarily your favorite color (which was black with pops of bold cyan), but lavender had such a calming effect for you both. You take a sip as you observe him straighten out his students’ reports and actually he leans forward. Right as you place your cup down on the table, Gojo Satoru has this amused smile on his face and for once you begin to see the world around you two slow as it takes on this new hue of rose glass. Your friend since early childhood is honestly asking you on a date. Perhaps both of your hearts needed this break from the norm in the world of dating to finally be able to give each other a decent chance, so here to sit back and play with your shirt sleeve and lock eyes with your dearest friend as he has this grin and jovial tone in his reply.

“Absolutely.”

And woo you, he will.

[soranihimawari]

Cats & Sweet Starts

Kuroo Tetsurō has been nominated for many things: most likely to succeed, most likely to be chemistry quiz bowl champion, most likely to date a supermodel… but when he stands in front of you at your first JVA-interns reunion, he’s sopping wet from the beer a horrid ex-boyfriend of yours throws at your face. Or at least tried to.

“You always protected ‘em huh Kuroo? Just like helped cover her mistakes when the boss was around,” the jerk scoffs.

“I just did it because you kept putting ‘em down at the board meetings, asshole,” Kuroo says before wiping his face. He turns to you asking if you’re ok, you nods. However, before your old fling at the office leaves, you put your glass down and march right up and sock the idiot who ruined your friend’s suit with your fist.

Kuroo laughs a bit stunned you could hit that hard. Jerk of an ex-fling looks at you and rubs his cheek.

“Pop quiz dickweed,” you square your shoulders in your bar attire. “Before volleyball what was the the one sport I was the captain for?”

The rag doll of a guy who probably has an STD now for being a player looks at you says you probably broke his cheek and you shake your head.

“Does it look like I care? You ruined our reunion. Get out of here,” turns to look at Kuroo with an apologetic smile. “Your suit’s ruined. I really liked that one too….”

An hour or so later, the pub is lively again and you walk together with your current department neighbor at the JVA. He talks about how badass you were after he took the whiskey sour hit on your behalf.

“… but you kicked Kuwabara’s ass. Have you always been that strong?”

You’re at the lobby of Kuroo’s apartment complex about to leave after saying your goodnights.

“Hmm… you didn’t know me in high school, but i guess I still am, haha. Don’t forget I’m paying for your dry cleaning. Just send me in the invoice, ok Kuroo-kun?”

He nods and waves as you head to your home via hailing a cab.

You’re about to be dropped off in your drive way when you piece some things together and tell the driver you’d pay him double to take you back to the apartment complex he picked you up in.

The ride back to Kuroo’s complex was an entertaining one. You tell the driver all about how Kuroo introduced himself in the first day; you were cubicle buddies for the next six to eight months during your internship five years ago; now you’ve officially signed on with him your department and his work on promotional athletes from the national team…

“I’m in merchandise development and he’s in sports contracts,” you say proudly at the light right before the complex.

“And falling in like, happened when?” The driver asks bemused.

“Three years ago when we had to fake a relationship so his family would stop worrying about him too much,” you smile.

“And falling in love…?”

“Two hours ago when my ex splashed a cocktail all over his face…thanks mister.”

You hand the driver some cash and run straight to the elevators.

Meanwhile, Kuroo is on the phone with his team trying to sort out his emotions that are tied to you until one of them turns into all of them saying what he’s known since you bought him that little cactus for his big boy promotion desk. It stares at him everyday and he watered it for a year then on the eve of your friendship anniversary (his idea you went along with), you tell him it’s a fake plant. You and him laughed together over tea time. Kuroo’s friends agree saying he’s just got to for it and see what works.

“I gotta go fellas, thanks,” Kuroo hangs up and though he is in his tank top under shirt and old college sweatpants, his finger hovers over your name on his phone. Sighing he’s about to call you when he hears a knock and goes to open the door after seeing who it was.

“YN?”

You smile brightly apologizing for the late house call after you saw each other not that long ago:

“Excuse me,” you say sternly, standing on your toes to kiss him.

Kuroo’s golden eyes seem matte and warm when you pull away. Your cheek is stroked gently by his curled forefinger and his other hand holds you steady when you return to the ground shoes and all.

“Wh-when?” He lingers near you before you push him inside to close the door behind you. His smile is Cheshire like and cheeks are a soft plum pink under the fluorescent lighting of his living room. He holds your hand and realizes you haven’t answered just yet, but he sees your blush spread.

“Pub,” you laugh and he cups your face to kiss you again. “You?”

“When you reminded me you did judo,” Kuroo laughs too, letting you kiss him for as long as you’re able to. He returns them with as much vitality as he deems worthy.

[soranihimawari]

Fondly Yours

Delayed Sakusa x Reader (sorry Omi!)

Pairing: Sakusa x friend!reader

Word Count: TBA

Warnings: none? Mentions of injury (reader: head// Sakusa toe stub)

Reader is fem!presenting

The first time you met Sakusa Kiyoomi, you were out on a coffee shop delivery. The MSBY had asked for a coffee run early in the morning from your family ran shop. Regardless, you were on the morning delivery rotation and weren’t prepared to take a volleyball to the noggin.

“Oww,” you rub your head after you spilled the last coffee all over the court floor. Number 15, the outside hitter steadies you and he snaps at his setter who accidentally hit the ball to go astray.

Funnily enough, that’s how your absurd friendship began with the popular outside hitter began. You two hung out every other weekend and one hang out led to a party invitation which led you to a year later where you find yourself.

“Oh c’mon, Atsu,” you whine. You’re all gussied up in your dress blues (your military casual formal wear from when you were [and still] employed with) and you wait on the blonde setter comes out of his room.

“You look sharp,” you say.

“Was it yer idea to have a ‘formal’ for Omi’s 30th?” Atsumu says fiddling with his cuff link.

“Yes,” you laugh and roll your eyes. “Because you all wanted to see me in my old dress blues. Gotta remind youse guys I make a wonderful lady.”

“And who you trying to impress huh? Cause lord knows if Omi didn’t fall fer yer ass ya would be having his birthday party at his penthouse!”

Atsumu’s typically a loud mouth and an instigator of saying rumors that may or may not be true. You raise your eyebrow at him and play it off, but given the heavy hitters in your shared core memories with the man of the hour being told second hand by his closest confidant on the team, you realistically… freeze. Blushing three different shades of lock and peach color. You momentarily gain your motor skills back as you find yourself being escorted to the ride share with Atsumu holding your arm.

Hours later, at the private area of the speakeasy lihnge you’re in, you are all cozy nursing a whiskey smash cocktail next to a very socially drained Sakusa Kiyoomi. Surely there are snacks scattered on the table, gifts—intimate toys and other wise too are haphazardly littered as well—too are noticeable in the dim lights. Here is something not many people know about a tipsy now 30-year old broody volleyball player: he becomes very affectionate. Like a neighborhood feral cat become docile as he rests his head against your shoulder. You hold his hand and give it a squeeze whispering a birthday greeting on top of his curls and you see his lips curl into a small smile.

Yes, you may have an unconventional start to your friendship, but knowing how Atsumu was right, you push that aside the moment you enjoy your privacy away from the rest when said 6’3” volleyball player presses his lips against yours soberly at 5am. The rest of the party is a blur until you recall his team allows you to watch over their more than tipsy friend. You go home with Sakusa to his place, holding him upright as he limps due to stubbing his toe earlier at the speakeasy’s low table before leaving. You help him undress halfway, no belt, no silk button down in bed, and you decide after he falls asleep to go to sleep too right next to him.

That’s how you find yourself nose to nose with him in the dawning hour. His lips suddenly on yours calling you, “pretty” and his mumbling woke you slightly and you, garnering your senses to realize not all of Atsumu’s tale was a lie, you cup Sakusa’s face and kiss him back.

“Sakusa fuckin’ Kiyoomi,” you curse under your breath with a warm groan when he kisses your neck next. “You do that again and ‘m afraid you might need to show me what else that mouth can do.”

“Gladly,” is the last thing you hear before humming an acknowledgment of said dare.