#HINATA I WAS STRUGGLING TO PUT IN A BUCKET.....

[mooshys]

hq + halloween costumes 🎃👻

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happy halloween! celebrating the spookiest day of the year with a silly hc post about what costumes I think each hq guy would wear!

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wears a man slut costume -> atsumu (duh), ushijima (doesn't mean to but with the way he's built, all his costumes end up man-slutty), terushima (something tells me that he would dress up as the wonka man unfortunately), bokuto (says he made some serious gains and wanted to wear a costume that shows off his pecs), osamu (you don't expect it, but in the end he's just like his brother)

lean towards doing a goofy group costume -> hanamaki, matsukawa (these two were planning their costumes since july...), tanaka (dressed up as a meme with nishinoya), nishinoya (dressed up as a meme with tanaka), sugawara (egged on nishinoya and tanaka to dress up as a meme and ended up joining them), tendou (he tried to rally the rest of the shiratorizawa guys to all be guy fieri with him but no one was biting...)

low effort costume -> kuroo (dressed up as a salary man and called it a day), iwaizumi, futakuchi (bastard gives me the impression that he would wear a name tag for a halloween costume), suna

paid an arm and a leg for a 1-to-1 costume replica -> kenma (was bidding on ebay for legolas' movie props), yaku (only paid big bucks so he can flex on kuroo), oikawa (he heard there was a costume contest and he wanted to win)

actually wears something normal for the halloween party -> daichi, kai, yamaguchi (he definitely dresses cute like a minion or something), ennoshita, goshiki, komori

doesn't dress up -> tsukishima, sakusa (don't even ask these two), shirabu (working an all nighter at the hospital), kageyama (genuinely forgot it was halloween), akaashi (overslept bc of work and missed the party)

ordered his costume too late and it didn't deliver on time for the party -> lev (idiot)

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[jjuzoir]

Random Kageyama Tobio HCS

Word Count: 1851

Warnings: just... me being in love with a m*n other than masumi 😔 also! these are my headcanons as in,,, what i personally i think he’d be like ‼️ also me projecting my ideal man into him (as if he wasn’t it already 😋)

A/N: i... i love tobio so much it’s literally unreal... i couldn’t wait for a request (i’m still working on the remaining 4 too lolol) so take me projecting my love for tobio >:(

— Kageyama normally wears loose fitting clothes or athletic-style clothing. His favorite go to outfits tends to be a loose tee, some loose pants with an obnoxious Nike logo he swears are super cool but look like two garbage bags sewed together, and running shoes. Throw a hoodie in there for colder weather, even then he still manages to look good.

— He takes very good care of his hair, like freaky good care, because of Miwa. Once she enrolled in cosmetology school and she saw Kageyama use the same baby shampoo from when they were kids she freaked out (if she’d been any later he’d start using 3-in-1) and chewed his ear off about hair care. His hair is super shiny and there’s literally no freeze, he uses nice smelling shampoo and conditioner too. Ugh, I love him.

— He has a very sensitive nose but it gets clogged easily so he doesn’t notice much unless it miraculously unclogs itself and he’s complaining about everything.

— “Eh! Hinata, why’d you smell like a fucking axe bottle?!” “Why does no one say anything about Tsukishima smelling like strawberries?” “Yamaguchi smells like... milk.” “Hah?! Sugawara smells bad-?!”

— He says he’s a picky eater to appear cool but as long as you don’t say what’s in the food he’ll down it. He’ll say he doesn’t like carrots but if you give him a salad with carrots he might even say “it’s the best salad he’s ever had”.

— He’s a hot sleeper, and not in the “oh he’s sexy” type of way. I’m talking, he’ll sweat buckets if he sleeps with anything other than a flimsy white t-shirt and his underwear.

— Might be me projecting my love for bunny teeth but he has bunny teeth, his front teeth are a bit bigger than average (not to the point it’s super noticeable but it’s still something Miwa teased him about), his aunties probably squeezed his cheeks and called him “baby bunny” when he was younger.

— He doesn’t go to sleep later than 9PM, he thinks if he does it’ll ruin his schedule (which it will) and fuck up his body - he’s seen Miwa screw up hers after she pulled a bunch of all nighters in her third year in high school and has been afraid since.

— The type to forget people were coming over and come out of his room shirtless asking for his clean underwear.

— His sister forced him to let her cut and style his hair which led to many questionable hairstyles. Tsukishima is genuinely so grateful to Miwa, especially when she was first starting - he’s got some pictures of Tobio with the shortest most embarrassing bangs ever saved in his phone in a file for blackmail if the need for it ever presented itself.

— Likes pissing people off on purpose sometimes, during one of the training camps he probably walked into the bath with socks on and was made fun of but out of spite he just… never took them off. Said he’d done it on purpose and all too. Tanaka cried out of fear for like a hot minute when he saw him standing under the shower with Iron Man socks on.

— He’s so petty too, if you make fun of him for messing up he’ll remember until you embarrass yourself to make fun of you. And when I say he remembers, I mean it - he can’t for his life remember when to use make and do in english but he remembers when Hinata made fun of him for wearing different socks back on their first year and yes he will bring it up on their second year when he did the same thing what are you going to do about it?

— Probably got scouted for a modeling agency once and began running away because he thought they were trying to kidnap him.

— If he had Tiktok… he would’ve gone viral after posting a video of him practicing, he posted for a while for fun and to flex on people that he was hot but then he saw a comment saying they wanted to drink his milk under a video of him drinking milk and he deleted his account, he can’t buy from that brand for a while.

— He’s got a video of a gorilla walking in two legs saved on his phone for when he’s feeling down and watches it whenever he’s not going well. People think he’s texting his S/O but no, he’s just watching a gorilla walk like minecraft Steve.

— He can’t pose for pictures to save his life, his default pose is an NPC stance with his arms stiffly hanging down and his eyes wide in surprise, don’t ask him to smile or else he will look like a serial killer.

— He’s got a bit of baby fat on his cheeks that won’t disappear no matter what. It’s become a pre-game ritual to pinch his cheeks. He’s also got dimples you can really only see when he smiles naturally but he doesn’t know and he’d get shy if he knew and try covering his face so don’t tell him, that’s a fact he told me so himself.

— Cannot dance to save his life. He’s so long (?) his limb control is non-existent, it appears in game and vanishes when he steps out of the court. He really just bounces on his heels and moves his arms like a t-rex, don’t ask more of him.

— Buys his clothes one size bigger just in case and Miwa teases him saying he’ll need them when he gets old and fat.

— Gets asked out often but always rejects, then has the audacity to complain he’s never dated anyone like he hasn’t turned down half of the school's population.

— Can’t sing. He’s got a nice speaking voice but ask him to sing and he’s out of tone, out of sync, out of breath, and out of the room in 5 seconds.

— Sugawara joked about having him singing as his alarm clock and Kageyama actually believed him, probably sent him a new recording as a gift after he annoyed him during practice.

— Surprisingly funny when he wants to but most jokes fly over people’s heads since he seems so serious most of the time, it annoys him to no end. Yachi still struggles differentiating when he is and isn’t joking because his tone literally doesn’t change at all and she doesn’t want to offend him.

— When he was younger he liked to collect rocks, not even the pretty ones he’d pick the most average, raggedy rocks off the ground and clean them up and tuck them to bed because he saw Miwa play with her barbies like that. Still owns his first rock, he named it “Johnson” after Dwayne Johnson, aka the rock (he’s had to explain it so many times he’s exhausted).

— Accidentally drank expired milk once and didn’t notice until his stomach began hurting and he thought he became lactose intolerant and he was inconsolable for days until he realized it had expired like a month ago - he went on a milk shopping spree and the milk sales that week saw a 20% rise from the last few months.

— Tobio had bad handwriting until he was in Junior High because his teachers couldn’t understand him and had him practice calligraphy, his handwriting is now one of the prettiest ones in the team and he’s the official inker of the VBC posters (as designated by Goddess Yachi Hitoka herself).

— His biggest fear for a long time was getting eaten by piranhas because he saw it happen so often in cartoon shows he genuinely thought it was going to be a bigger deal than it turned out to be but for like a solid 6 years of his life he avoided suspicions puddles just in case.

— Kageyama has a habit of rolling and unrolling his sleeves when he’s deep in thought, it soon made way to a habit of checking his wrist watch (he absolutely has a wrist watch, you cannot change my mind on that) but not actually reading it.

— His nails are very pretty, like most setters, he takes very good care of them. They’re filed down to a perfect length and he puts oils and creams, his hands in general are so nice. He takes a lot of pride in them, you know his cuticles are pushed back and trimmed and he could absolutely be a hand model. Kags’ hands are calloused, he’s a volleyball player of course they are, but it’s not to the extent of Ushijima or Daichi’s hands.

— Talking about hands, it’s probably one of his favorite features on people. He loves holding hands with his S/O and tracing the wrinkles in their palm, being able to interlock fingers with them and feel the bumps in them.

— Mumbles to himself when in thought too! Very nonsensical if you’re not informed on what he’s thinking about, if he’s thinking about you he’ll mumble your name or something like “pretty eyes”.

— Has a very healthy diet, like extremely healthy and thought out. He won’t eat anything too sugary or that could throw off his body, but he does have cheat days (which are rare but exist). He also doesn’t drink much soda or alcohol (once he’s of age).

— Things like smoking are a big no, he takes so much care of his body he wouldn’t even touch a cigarette or be near a smoking area, lowkey paranoid of ingesting the smoke too.

— When he’s older I can see him having a dog and a cat, the dog would be a big dog; if they stood on two paws it’d be the same height as you, he’d name or something like Tobias and think he was super clever and funny, the cat would probably a small cat he’d name Milk (it probably would be a black cat too but he does not care).

— Probably tried baby formula because he heard it was a substitute for breast milk. No further comments on this.

— I feel like he doesn’t listen to music, but if he had to choose something he’d pick instrumental music - not orchestral music or anything like that - but more of a chill, no deep meaning just guitar and piano track. I could see him listening to Shego Sekito or Joe Hisashi on occasion, he might even listen to some 2000’s pop if he wants something to pump him up during training (he works out to Brittney Spears’ “Womanizer”).

— A cuddle-bug when he’s sleepy, he’ll throw himself across his S/O and not move at all, he just wants to stay there and not move ever again (or at least until he’s not feeling like passing out). He’ll like to wrap himself around them and cuddle their neck, he’ll attach himself to their arm like it’s a lifeline.

— In other words, Kageyama Tobio… b-boyfriend material.

[ficforce]

Asakusa Crush Part 1

Shinmon Benimaru x Reader SFW / NSFW No set timeline New relationship

Hikage and Hinata had been munching on their sweets, following close behind Benimaru who was buying them whatever he could to keep them quiet - they were particularly hyper that day and he was beginning to wish he hadn’t let them tag along. It was a routine walk through the town, making sure nothing was going to wrong and that none of the smaller gangs had any ideas about who Asakusa belonged to. The girls both walked straight into him as the man stopped suddenly and a head popped out either side of him to see what the fuss was up ahead.

A big man was mouthing off at the front of a store, demanding the owner come out and settle things like a man and accusing them of robbing him.

“Another fight, huh…” Benimaru crossed his arms and watched as the twins stood in front of him to watch. The guy must have been about six foot four and he had a big build, Benimaru figured he’d pack a punch but not be too fast on his feet, the scars and bruised knuckles identified him as a guy who brawled a lot. The curtain was moved aside from the store and out stepped a young lady, she was wearing a flowery yukata and he was a little surprised to see she was only wearing bandaged binding beneath it, had she just woken up? She was rubbing her eyes and then pushed her hair out of the way a little.

“Where’s the old bastard who owns this shit hole?!” The man stalked over to the woman and put his hand on her shoulder to move her out of the way. Benimaru barely caught the move so he was damned sure that the big guy never saw it coming. Her hand had shot up onto his wrist and with an elegant twist and using his own momentum against him, she had the man on his back on the dusty ground.

She stepped back from him and covered a slight yawn, she had definitely been taking a nap, “What’s your problem? You were loud last night too. If you can’t handle your drink then don’t come here anymore.”

“Y/N is hilarious!” Hinata cheered,

Hikage nodded, “She’s always best when she’s sleepy!”

Benimaru looked down at the two, they knew her? He couldn’t recall ever seeing her and he thought he had met most people in the town, “Y/N? Who the hell is she?”

“She came here a month ago, Waka, the bar owner is her grandpa or something.”

“Sooner he kicks the bucket the sooner she can make it fun for us!” The two giggled and then hung onto Benimaru, “She has a cool fire trick too!”

By this point the man had gotten up off the ground, spitting onto it and getting himself up, he swung at Y/N twice, both times she stepped out of the way and on his third swing she punched him between the eyes and he fell down flat. Unconscious before he hit the dirt. “Yeah! Kick his ass Y/N!”

Benimaru met Y/N’s eyes as she looked in his direction, it was for a second and then she glanced down at the twins, her annoyed expression brightened and she grinned at the girls with a small thumbs up. The Captain’s heart was pounding in his chest and he felt an odd heat spike inside his gut, why the hell was that?

A tug on his clothing pulled the left sleeve down and he yanked it back up, Hikage sticking her tongue out at him and the bouncing on her feet as she saw Y/N approach them, “You two weren’t even gonna help, were you?”

They shook their heads and then grinned at one another before pointing up at Benimaru, “We were waiting for the man to do the decent thing!”

“Waka didn’t do a thing!

“Shame on you!”

He clicked his tongue at them, grumbling for them to shut up and then he was looking at the woman close up. She didn’t seem special, her appearance was a little rough, the yukata was too big for her and obviously just thrown on - did she even know that it was so open? She didn’t even have anything on her feet. She was plain and he was oddly speechless.

“Waka?” She asked and then she seemed to have a moment of realisation, “You’re Be- uh, Shinmon Benimaru, right?”

She was from the Empire then? She’d barely caught herself in saying his name in the correct order, that should have put him off her but it really didn’t, she looked like she belonged in Asakusa and Benimaru was still struggling to speak so he just nodded.

“Hika and Hina gave me the heads up on who’s who in Asakusa, you’re pretty high on their list of people. I’m Y/N, sorry for the ruckus just now…” She figured that fighting in the street wasn’t the best way to meet the town’s Demolishing King.

“What fighting style were you using?” That was the only thing he could get to come out of his mouth.

“A little Aikido, some Kobudo and generally the skill of avoiding getting hit. I lived on the outskirts of the Empire barely inside of Tokyo, it got a little rough from time to time.” She watched him give another nod and took a step back, “Well, I guess I’m up now, I better get the bar ready for tonight - Later, girls!” The twins chimed in their goodbyes and then gave a pull on Benimaru as they complained he was too slow.

He had been fixated on watching Y/N walk away, he wanted to follow her and talk a little more now that the beating in his chest had calmed down. “What the hell was that…?”

—

Konro couldn’t help but watch in fascination as his young Captain stared after the new girl, the mismatched red eyes glued to her as she chatted away with Hinata and Hikage after bringing snacks to the guardhouse. The Company had been busy rebuilding most of the morning and people were bringing them food and drink to keep them going, there was nothing like watching a loved one combust and getting put to rest to bring everyone together. But since she had arrived, Benimaru hadn’t moved and his face had a little more colour to it, he decided to try something out and made a random comment, “She’s pretty.” He was being honest, she was wearing a cute yukata with a flowery belt, she wasn’t too made up and her hair was kept simple - she looked like a sweet girl.

“She’s amazing.”

Konro nearly choked on his surprise, “What?”

“…W-what?” Benimaru tore his eyes away and looked up at Konro, his face heating up as he realised what had just happened and he turned his head to glare at the opposite wall, “Shut up! Get that dumb look off your face or I’ll -“

“You’ll what?” Konro smirked, “Blush some more?” This was great, Benimaru didn’t get crushes, Benimaru wasn’t a virgin either but he never really showed too much interest in women. For him to actually get embarrassed like this was better than any hazing he had put Benimaru through as a young teen. “I wish I had the camera right now.”

Benimaru clicked his tongue angrily and stepped out of the doorway without looking, straight into Y/N like some dumb cliche. “Watch it!”

“You stepped into me, dumbass!” Y/N shot back at him with a glare to match his own, a slight orange glow to her eyes.

Benimaru wanted to know what she could do, was she a second or a third-generation? Would she have a real sting in her tail or was she just flashy? “Tch!” He went to sidestep her but she blocked him, “The hell you want?”

“An apology.”

“Not happening, move” He reached a hand to her shoulder to move her aside and grunted as she used the heel of her palm to knock it away. Was she challenging him? She didn’t look anything like the woman fighting in the street a few days ago, this well-groomed, pretty face had no place in giving him trouble. “I said move.”

He moved quicker this time and she countered, their palms and forearms collided several times as they attacked and countered, “And I said apologise.”

There was a small crowd around them now, excited murmurs buzzing along them as they watched the standoff. Konro grabbed Hinata and Hikage before they could run over and join in, he approached them both and put a hand on each of them. “If you’re gonna fight, do it away from the new building work.” Benimaru shrugged him off and walked away in the opposite direction, Konro watched after him with a barely concealed smile - he had it bad for this girl. “You shouldn’t play with fire.”

“I’m fireproof,” Y/N smiled up at the man benignly, “Besides…I’m just pulling on his pigtails.”

The twins giggled at her side and teased her about her own crush on Benimaru.

[haik-choo]

can i get one where the reader has severe emetophobia and suga, yaku, and hinata calm them down after they see someone throw up

a/n: of course you can! i hope i did a good job of portraying this! i hope this emergency request makes you feel better! i hope i did this right! i don’t have emetophobia, so i don’t know how to make sure this is right!

[calming s/o with severe emetophobia down]

-yaku, sugawara, hinata

sugawara koushi.

sugawara is very attentive and observant, always aware of his surroundings

so when he notices the student next to him green in the face, hand covering their mouth, his eyes dart to you and how you seem frozen with a mixture of fear and disgust, your own hand clutching your stomach

the student hurls within seconds, leaving the rest of the classmates to cringe and pinch their noses in disgust, but you dart out the room, ignoring the calls of the teacher

suga doesn’t care about the sick student next to him, he only cares about you and if you’re okay -- so he dart out after you, running after you as you slip into the bathroom

there are some people in there when he goes in, they gives him dirty looks at his hurried figure, but he pays no mind, instead gently pushing open the bathroom stall door you’re standing in, hand over your mouth and eyes welling with tears

“suga, I-i can’t, I-I --” “i know, i know; i’m here now,:

“shhh, it’s okay, you’re alright”

“i’ve got you, just breathe”

his arms are wrapped around you, his nose in your hair as he strokes your back softly. his words are slow and gentle, trying to calm you down by surrounding you with his love

suga is very caring, so i imagine he’d stay there the whole day if you needed him to; his hand would stay rubbing your back, or even placed on your stomach to try and quell any nausea that you might have

he’s extremely understanding, so he tends to your every need, he’ll even text the volleyball team to ask them to pick up your homework so you don’t have to worry about it at the end of the day 

he’ll suggest you go to the nurse and lay down, if you decide to go he’ll accompany you there and try to stay, but if you decide to not go he’ll just stay by your side, trying to his best to make you feel better with loving words and affectionate touches 

hinata shoyo. 

hinata, unlike suga, isn’t the most observant about you and your fears, so when he’s practicing in the gym with the rest of the club and yamaguchi looks pale, burping loudly before reaching for a bucket beside the gym doors, he does nothing but look away

but when he sees you practically sprint out of the gym, the metal doors clanging loudly against the wall in your hasty effort to leave, he knows he has to go to you

he partially thinks it’s because the smell bothers you, but deep down he knows that there’s something wrong

and when he finds you outside, bending over some bushes gagging, tears flowing down your face, he know’s his suspicion was right

“y/n! are you okay? what’s wrong?” 

he immediately dashes up to you and places his hands on your shoulder, but it just causes you to shift away from him and cry more, your arm holding your stomach this time

“he-he--” you struggle to get out the words to say what’s bothering you, but hinata can already tell

“yamaguchi? yeah, he threw up --” the mention of the words cause you to gag and cough, and hinata cringes

“so that’s what bothering you? do you need me to go get you water?”

hinata will 100% be running around the campus getting you everything you need; water, blanket, bucket, a stool to sit on, a pillow, a warm pack to put on your stomach, food -- anything you want he’ll cause a frenzy to get

he doesn’t really understand your fear or why you reacted the way you did, but all he knows is that you’re in extreme pain (either physically or emotionally//mentally) and he just wants to be there for you

he keeps his distance, like a foot, and doesn’t touch you (because he doesn’t think you want him to) but occasionally he’ll tuck hair behind your ear and ask you if you’re feeling better

he’s trying his best to calm you down -- he’s not the best, but know that he’ll be there to tend to your every need 

yaku morisuke.

you can’t get anything past this guy -- he knows you’re sensitive to throw up the second someone mentions it and you clutch your stomach slightly, biting your lip and looking away

always tries his best to keep you away from things that might disgust you, because he doesn’t want to accidentally trigger your fear by making your nauseous or by letting you see someone else that’s about to hurl

but when lev spews his breakfast one morning run, yaku is completely unprepared 

you’re standing at the rest area, waiting for the boys to meet you there so you can give them water, and all of a sudden you see yaku making his way down the hill with lev, using his shirt to cover lev’s face ? and you’re confused

until you see lev pull yaku’s shirt from in front of his face and throw up on it

yaku panics, his eyes darting to you as you gag and burp, panic written on your face

he leaves kuroo to deal with their sick middle-blocker, and runs down to you and moves you away from the scene, completely silent

he’s not one to give reassuring words or tell you everything is going to be alright -- he’ll show you instead

he moves you both to a spot away from the rest of the team, his hand gathering your hair as you cover your mouth and sob quietly

“im gonna throw up, yaku --”

“no you’re not, im here. don’t worry” 

his tone isn’t harsh at all, there’s no edge, all his focus in going on making sure you keep your mind off of what you just saw: he rubs your knee or kisses the top of your head, trying to use touch to keep your mind preoccupied

yaku isn’t very good with words, but he likes to think he can show you how much he cares, and with times like these, he proves it

(he totally yells at lev later tho)

(lev: what did i do wrong. aren’t i the victim here) 

[splendidly-secret-sick-fics]

MVP of Team Dumbass

Pairing: sick Hinata, caretaker Kageyama

Word Count: 3,613

Warnings: vomit, swearing

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I don’t get a lot of KageHina requests and I wanted to write one, so here’s one that I finished that’s been sitting in my drafts for a while!

As per my MO, I did not proofread this.

———————————————————

Tobio and Shoyo stood at the entrance of the rented conference space, observing the chaos that was the Black Jackals end of season dinner party and award ceremony. Tobio glanced at Shoyo for the seventh time in the last five minutes and frowned at the nervous look on his face.

“Shoyo, are you sure you’re alright?” Tobio whisper-asked for what felt like the millionth time that night. He was sure that he was pestering and probably starting to grate on his boyfriend’s last nerve, but he couldn’t help it.

Shoyo had been acting weird all day. It started when he slept 2 whole hours later than usual. Kageyma brushed it off as being extra exhausted from the busy season. Then he only picked at his breakfast before spending the rest of the afternoon cuddled into Tobio’s side on the couch, much clingier than usual. Again, he brushed it off.

They were about to walk into the venue for the Jackals’s end of season awards ceremony, and he couldn’t ignore it anymore. Shoyo looked ragged. Well, actually, he looked fantastic in his navy blue suit, the top buttons of his light pink button down undone. But his face was exhausted.

Tobio had tried to convince him to stay home, but Shoyo was insistent. He didn’t have a fever or any other visible symptoms of being sick, so Tobio didn’t really have any grounds to keep him from going to the dinner.

“I’m…” Shoyo hesitated, fiddling with his fingers. His eyes swept across the noisy, rowdy room, and Tobio thought maybe he would give in to… whatever was causing him to act so weird and they could go home. But Shoyo shook his head and smiled.

“I’m okay. Just tired. I’ll take it easy tonight, I promise,” Shoyo said, but his voice lacked its usual energy. Tobio didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. He knew that Shoyo understood his disapproval without him voicing it.

Shoyo grabbed Tobio’s hand and squeezed. They walked into the room and joined the rest of the team and their guests. Obviously Shoyo wasn’t going to forgo this dinner, so Tobio resigned himself to keeping a sharper eye on his boyfriend than normal.

That proved to be a good decisions because throughout the dinner, it was clear that Shoyo’s physical and mental state was deteriorating.

Sure, at first Shoyo put up a good front. He laughed with Bokuto and Atsumu during the “bloopers'' video that Meian put together. He chatted casually with Sakusa about the struggles of living with a setter-type. He joined in on the usual teasing towards Tobio about how they would destroy the Adlers next time they played.

But Tobio saw his boyfriend deflate every time there was a lull in the conversation. He saw how his skin grew paler as the night went on. How he got more and more lethargic. How he shoved his food around on his plate before having the waiter take it away. How he zoned out more and more frequently during conversations.

It was once the speeches started that Tobio’s Shoyo Radar went from code 5 to code 1 in no time flat.

Shoyo wasn’t even trying to hide that he felt bad anymore. He kept shifting uncomfortably in his seat. First throwing his head back, eyes closed. Then quickly to lean his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands. On two separate occasions, Atsumu and Akaashi each glanced at him from across the table, concern evident on their faces before shooting Tobio questioning looks. Tobio tried to convey to them that he had it under control.

Even though he had no idea what was wrong.

Meian was going through the awards for the season. Everything from “best play” to “messiest locker” was awarded and normally Shoyo really enjoyed hearing all the creative awards the team came up with and listening to their respective acceptance speeches. Tonight though, it was clear he had no idea what Meian was even talking about onstage. He was staring blankly at the half eaten dessert in front of him, his mouth hanging open slightly. Tobio was sure he had a fever now, if the slight sheen of sweat was any indication.

Tobio heard the Meian announce the next award, MVP, which is usually the last award, and go over their best plays of the season. He decided it was the perfect time to grab Shoyo and drag him home. They stayed long enough.

He reached over to grab his boyfriend’s hand when Shoyo suddenly perked up, his eyes wide and his mouth snapping shut. His hand shot out and death gripped Tobio’s thigh. When he looked over at the setter, he swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak, a sense of urgency behind his eyes.

“and the MVP of the season, Hinata Shoyo!” Meian announced and at hearing his name Shoyo’s head snapped towards the front. He turned to look at Tobio and smiled shakily.

“Let’s leave after this, okay?” He whispered before standing up and walking over to accept the award from their captain.

Shoyo took his place behind the podium and leaned heavily on his elbows. He took the microphone in his hand and started his acceptance speech. Under the stage lights, it was beyond evident that the team’s tiny opposite hitter was not well.

Not only did his face shine with sweat, but Shoyo had prevalent deep, dark circles under his eyes and his skin looked nearly translucent. Several eyes landed on Tobio, all silently asking what was wrong. Even Meian and Coach Foster found him from the stage. Tobio shook his head and Shoyo started talking.

How did he not notice how bad off his boyfriend was? He prided himself on being observant of those around him, especially Shoyo. Especially after years of knowing him and working with him and living with him.

“Wow, MVP…” Shoyo panted and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I never would have thought I’d win this award. Thanks guys, really,” he shook his head.

“You’re all so… so uh…” his form started folding in on itself and Tobio immediately stood up.

“I’m just gonna… sit down, i-if that’s… alright,” he breathed before sliding down and disappearing behind the podium. The crowd erupted into a flurry of quick, concerned whispers. Meian and Coach Shugo immediately rushed to his side. Tobio wanted to run up there, but held back. He didn’t want to crowd Shoyo. He would be called if he was needed. But he still stood, the rest of his table glancing up at him. He ignored them, all of his attention on the stage.

“T-tobio?” came Shoyo’s shaky voice over the speakers. Tobio immediately marched up to the stage. He rounded the podium, slightly afraid of what he was going to find.

Meian and Coach Shugo were knelt by Shoyo, trying to offer their support and figure out what was wrong. Meian held the mic in his hands and Shugo had a bottle of water. Shoyo was between them, his head between his legs. His back moved up and down heavily. Tobio immediately got down on his knees in front of his boyfriend.

“Shoyo,” he called gently, placing a hand on his back. Shoyo jumped slightly before lifting his head and looking at Tobio. Relief washed over his pained features before his eyes glossed over with tears.

“I don’t feel good,” he all but whined before hanging his head again.

“I know, baby. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He knew for sure that Shoyo had a fever now. It was painfully obvious by the heat and sweat Tobio felt with the hand that was still on the wing spiker’s back. But that didn’t tell him what was causing the fever.

“Head is pounding,” Shoyo choked before adding, “nauseous.”

At that, all of Tobio’s alarm bells went off. Shoyo was never good with nausea. Handling it, covering it up, not throwing up. If Hinata Shoyo had any weaknesses it was his own stomach.

“Okay,” Tobio said with a forced calm, “just breathe, Sho. Can you move?” This was nothing new. He could handle this.

Shoyo shook his head.

“Don’t wanna risk making a bigger mess than necessary,” he gritted. Tobio knew the signs. Could tell that his nausea was mounting by the second and they needed to do something to minimize the damage. Shoyo was going to throw up and there was no stopping it. The best thing they could do was try and minimize the damage.

“I understand,” Tobio said. He ran his hand through Shoyo’s hair.

“Would one of you mind finding a bin of some sort?” he turned to the two men still hanging behind them. Meian nodded and jogged off the stage. A minute later, he returned with a bucket. He must’ve run to the utility closet. Tobio nodded gratefully and took the bucket.

“Sho, I have a bucket. Can we walk now? We’ll go somewhere else, alright? Then we can leave whenever you’re ready,” Tobio tried to coax Shoyo into moving. It would be better for everyone if his entire team and their friends and family didn’t hear him puking just behind the podium. Tobio was surprised Bokuto wasn’t up here trying to help out, honestly. He probably had Akaashi to thank for that.

Shoyo glanced up at him through his lashes and nodded hesitantly.

With Shugo’s help, Tobio got Shoyo standing on visibly shaky legs. He wrapped one arm around Shoyo’s waist, the other holding the bucket in front of his boyfriend’s chest. Shoyo’s arm was thrown over Tobio’s shoulder and they made their way slowly off the stage.

Tobio smiled gratefully, but told Shugo he had it handled when the coach offered to help out. Meian made an announcement to the room that Shoyo was fine, but probably contracted a stomach bug.

As they were walking toward the exit, which happened to be across the room from the stage, unfortunately, Tobio heard a small sniffle from the trembling boy in his arms.

“Sho? Do we need to stop?” Shoyo shook his head.

“Just embarrassed. Knew s-something was wrong” he exhaled through puffed cheeks.

“I should’ve noticed, Sho. I’m sorry. We should’ve left before it got bad.” Tobio kissed the side of his head. Shoyo shook his head, but kept his mouth closed. Tobio figured that was for the best.

It was slow going, but their salvation was close at hand. The door to the exit was only about 15 feet in front of them. They could make it.

“Doing good, babe. We’re almost out and then you can relax and let whatever needs to happen happen,” Tobio soothed and rubbed up and down Shoyo’s side. His boyfriend nodded tersely, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth in a tight line. Sweat dripped down the side of his face and his breaths were slow and controlled.

Within three seconds of his nod though, Shoyo shook his head and halted them. The back of his hand pressed firmly against his mouth.

“Oh, Shoyo, we’re so close to the door,” Tobio winced and glanced at the exit a mere 10 feet before then. He looked around the room for the first time and saw the uneasy looks from everyone. It was clear they were trying not to look, but it was hard not to. Kageyama understood that. Tobio looked uneasily at Shoyo again. His skin was taking on a green shirt tint and his shoulders were visibly trembling.

Tobio took in all the eyes on them, Shoyo’s current state, and the distance to the door and made a decision for both of them.

“Let’s go, baby. It’s so close,” he encouraged and pushed Shoyo forward quickly. He whimpered and Tobio shushed him gently.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Shoyo lurched forward with a silent heave, bracing himself against his knees. It was quickly followed by a whimper and Tobio’s chest squeezed in sympathy.

“Okay, it’s fine. Just let it happen. We’re alone now. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” He moved his hand from Shoyo’s side to his back, rubbing up and down the way he liked.

Shoyo burped wetly and panted over the bin. He squeezed his eyes shut and a quiet heave rocked his body forward. Tobio put a hand on his shoulder to keep him steady, the other still rhythmically rubbing his boyfriend’s back. The warmth he found there was concerning, but he put it aside for the time being and focused on the problem at hand.

“Shoyo, relax,” Tobio tried. Shoyo’s shoulders were hunched up by his ears and his back muscles were taught under Tobio’s hand.

“Deep breath in,” he instructed. Shoyo inhaled slowly and the tension released from his body. It seemed to do the trick because with one quick, sharp, wretch Shoyo’s jaw dropped and a small stream of vomit splashed into the bin. He coughed and sputtered, trying to catch his breath when another pitiful amount of puke spilled through his parted lips.

“Good job, Sho. Just get it up.” Tobio brushed back his hair.

“Hur-hurts,” Shoyo choked behind a gag. Tobio winced in sympathy. He was mentally beating himself up for not realizing how sick his boyfriend was sooner. He never would have relented and let Shoyo come if he knew. Now, here they were, less than fifty feet away from Shoyo’s entire team and their partners and families, with Shoyo painfully spewing his guts up and a raging fever.

“I know,” Tobio exhaled. Shoyo gagged up another small amount of puke and gasped.

“Please, please,” he rasped, “make it sto-stop.”

“I wish I could, Shoyo. You just have to ride it out.” Tobio frowned. Shoyo whimpered.

It didn’t look like he was anywhere near done, but his body wasn’t letting him breathe. It was only allowing small, pathetic streams of bile up and it was clearly causing Shoyo a lot of pain if his scrunched face and occasional whimpers were anything to go off of. There had to be something that could help move things along.

Tobio moved his hand to Shoyo’s lower back and moved his hands in quick circles. It shook Shoyo’s entire shaking form and he let another whimper escape.

“Sto-stop. Tobio, plea—,” he gagged. Tears were now dropping into the bucket beneath him. He squatted and put his head in his hands. Tobio followed and placed the bucket on the ground. With his now free hand, he braced an arm against Shoyo’s chest, the other continuing its quick circles on his back.

Shoyo started letting out small, harsh, airy burps in quick succession. A minute later, he hiccuped and his whole body lurched forward with the torrent of vomit that poured from his mouth. He coughed and sobbed before another heave forced another flood vomit up and out of his mouth.

“I’ve got you, Sho. It’s okay,” Tobio soothed.

Wave after wave tormented Shoyo and he grew more desperate when he couldn’t catch his breath. Tobio could see Shoyo losing his grounding and knew he needed to do something before this turned into a full-fledged panic attack.

“Shoyo, hey. You have to try to relax. You’re making things worse for yourself, baby,” Tobio said. Shoyo just shook his head and heaved up more vomit.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Sho. I’ve got you, alright? You’re okay. Everything is okay. Breathe,” he commanded. Shoyo desperately gasped, but managed to shakily exhale slowly.

“That’s it. You’re okay,” Tobio reassured again. Shoyo gagged, but nothing more came up. He took in a trembling breath through his nose and exhaled slowly. He coughed and spit into the bin.

Tobio retrieved his phone from his back pocket and shot a quick text to Akaashi, while breathing with Shoyo slowly.

A minute later, Shoyo collapsed onto his ass and cradled his head in his hands. Tobio kissed the side of his head and rubbed between his shoulder blades.

“You done?” he asked. Shoyo nodded. Tobio clicked his tongue and pulled Shoyo into his side. They were sitting just outside the door. Tobio wanted to move them, but he needed to give Shoyo a second to collect himself.

The door opened a second later and Akaashi came out with water and a wet cloth.

“Is he alright?” he directed at Tobio.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I think it’s a stomach bug.” He took the things from Akaashi with a grateful smile and placed the cloth on Shoyo’s forehead. His boyfriend sighed and his shoulders fell back down.

“Do you need anything else? Kotaro is just about ready to chop off his spiking arm if it means he can come help out,” Akaashi chuckled lightheartedly. Tobio laughed, but shook his head.

“No, I think we’re alright. When he’s ready, we’ll move to the front of the building and I’ll call a taxi.”

“Nonsense. Kotaro and I will drive you home—no I won’t take no for an answer. Neither will Kotaro,” Akaashi said, cutting off Tobio before he could protest.

“Besides, the dinner is wrapping up anyway and the team is concerned. They’ll feel better knowing one of us got you home safely.”

“Okay,” Tobio relented, “thank you.” Akaashi smiled and went to go get his boyfriend.

Tobio surveyed his own boyfriend with a scowl. Shoyo’s breathing returned to normal, but he was still very pale and sweaty.

“Sho, look at me, please.”

Shoyo whined, but turned his head to face Tobio, resting it on his knees. He looked even more exhausted if possible. His fever was evident now too, given away by the subtle flush of his cheeks. Tobio sucked his teeth and pursed his lips.

“Look at you. MVP? Yeah. MVP of Team Dumbass, maybe,” he said without any bite. He took the cloth and ran it over Shoyo’s face again.

“I rightfully earned both awards, I think,” Shoyo weakly chuckled.

“Yeah, I suppose you did. I probably would’ve won biggest idiot, seeing as I signed up for your idiocy willingly,” Tobio lamented dramatically. Shoyo frowned. He rinsed out his mouth with the water Akaashi brought before replying.

“Rude, Tobio.”

Tobio smirked and stood up. He pulled a piece of gum from his coat pocket (something he always had on hand for Shoyo who’s taken up a nasty habit of constant gum chewing) and handed it to his boyfriend. Then he reached a hand down to Shoyo who took it hesitantly. As soon as he was standing, his knees buckled and Tobio caught him under his arms.

“Tch, can’t even stand properly,” he sighed. He maneuvered Shoyo onto his back.

“Don’t puke on me. I love you, but not that much.”

“Mean, Tobio,” Shoyo yawned. He nuzzled his warm face into Tobio’s neck. First thing when they get home is to get that fever down.

Within the next five minutes, Akaashi and Bokuto met them at the front. Akaashi reassured Tobio that he told everyone Shoyo was alright and would bounce back from this quickly. Bokuto manipulated a surgical mask onto Shoyo’s face. Tobio hadn’t realized he fell asleep.

They piled into Bokuto’s car and Tobio immediately pulled Shoyo into his side. Akaashi handed him a plastic bag just in case.

They didn’t end up needing it, thankfully and when they got home Tobio begrudgingly woke Shoyo up. Unfortunately he could not carry Shoyo, now dense with muscle from years of volleyball, up four flights of stairs to their apartment like he used to. He knew his limits. He thanked Akaashi and dragged Shoyo up the stairs.

Shoyo made a beeline for the bedroom when they got inside. Tobio followed after getting a bowl from the kitchen, some fever reducers and stomach meds, a sports drink, and some crackers.

Upon entering the bedroom, he found Shoyo sitting up with half his shirt off.

“Help?” he asked pitifully and Tobio huffed out a laugh before walking over and helping him out of his suit. He replaced it with some athletic shorts and one of his own sweatshirts and Shoyo collapsed onto the bed. He curled into a ball and sighed.

“‘M sorry,” he said around a yawn. Tobio peered over his shoulder at him from where he was changing into his own pajamas.

“For being an idiot?”

Shoyo smiled, “yeah. I should’ve listened to you.”

“Yeah, you should have. But it’s not like that’s anything new,” he said lightly and moved to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

“Yeah. That’s true. Still,” Shoyo said. Tobio finished up in the bathroom and crawled into bed beside Shoyo. His boyfriend promptly moved to curl around Tobio, but was stopped before he could achieve maximum comfort levels.

“Ah ah ah, hold up. Take these meds and drink something first.”

Shoyo frowned at him with wide eyes, his chin resting on Tobio’s chest.

“Do I have to?”

“Absolutely. Yes,” Tobio said without missing a beat. He shoved a thermometer in Shoyo’s mouth before he could complain.

Shoyo breathed a long-suffering sigh and pouted, but sat up nonetheless. After the thermometer beeped, Tobio took it to read the temperature and frowned again. Good thing they still had fever reducers.

Shoyo took the meds and the drink and choked them down with a grimace.

“If it comes back up, it’s on you. Literally and figuratively,” Shoyo mumbled.

“I brought a bowl from the kitchen. If you puke on me I’m going to leave you.”

“No you won’t,” Shoyo said sleepily. He settled himself into Tobio’s side and shivered. Tobio pulled their blanket up over his shoulders and rubbed his arms.

“No. I won’t,” he sighed. He kissed the top of Shoyo’s head and mentally prepared himself for the next few days of taking care of his tiny stubborn boyfriend.

[shaydeoffical]

Multi-Ending Haikyuu Camping Trip, Soulmate Au, Chubby/Insecure Reader!

Bio: In a world where your soulmate’s name will randomly appear on your wrist during a full moon. (Y/n) discovers that, not only does she know her soulmate, but he’s on the same camping trip with her.

Author’s note: Thank you to @alesipanic​ for helping me edit this one <3 . Also any tw are in the tags. 

Series Masterlist

Start Here

 “This was a great idea,” Kuroo finished staking down the tent, and I let the peg go. What was going to be Kenma, Kuroo, and I going on a small camping trip turned into a massive party. Kenma invited Hinata, Kuroo invited Tsuki (who has to bring Tadashi), and Bokuto was coming if Hinata and Kuroo were here, so of course, Akaashi also tagged along. I invited my best girlfriend from college who, wisely, declined. Bokuto and Hinata were on a small break from their team, and classes weren’t in session, so it made sense for us all to hang out. Though camping might have been a more significant task than we initially planned, it'd be fun.

   “I just hope we packed everything.” I stood up and wiped my brow, sweat pooling down my forearm. While I wasn’t in the position to complain, considering that Kuroo and Bokuto carried my bags up the mountain, the hike was grueling. Even Hinata was strained after dragging Kenma the second half.

   “Well, I did make a list,” Tsukishima pushed up his glasses and grinned. “If we don’t have something, it's not my fault. You’re the forgetful one here, (Y/n).” My mouth fell open, and I sputtered.    

   “Tsuki, don’t start a fight this early in the trip.” Tadashi sat down the firewood. The two soulmates were balanced out for sure, Tadashi kept Tsuki in line, while Tsuki kept him fired up. Still, Tsuki wasn't so easily persuaded.

   “Remember what happened the last time you made (Y/n) cry.” Kuroo draped his arm around my shoulders, squeezing my speechless frame to him. Kuroo's sweat mixed with mine, at least I wasn't the only one overheating.

   “If you are proposing a rematch, I’ll win this time.” Tsuki crossed his arms and was enjoying the banter. While they did that, I was mentally going over everything I packed. Of course, I remembered the bug spray, sunscreen, medicine, and extra batteries….my power box for my phone.

   “Just apologize, and I’ll school you after dinner.” Kuroo purred, squeezing my arm, resting his head on my shoulder.

   “I’m sorry, your Highness.” My eyes widened, sweat reappearing on my forehead. Tsuki conceded, but I didn’t care at that point.

   “Thank you, but I did forget something,” I admitted, biting my lip, looking at the dirt. “I need to check my bags.”

   “What was it?” Tadashi asked, following me to the pile.

   “I brought extra sunscreen, that’s the most important thing,” Kuroo assured me, helping me dig through my bags.

   “I forgot my charging bank. But I remembered all the stuff on the list.” My clothes were strewn all over the tarp we laid out for the bags. “Shit, I’m so fucking stupid,” I growled at myself undoing my nightgown, my undies rolling out.

   “Granny panties uh.  So you already gave up on finding your soulmate.” Tsuki loved to get under my skin, while Kuroo, Akaashi and Bokuto schooled Tsuki in my honor, I was his favorite target. Tadashi hit his chest, folding my clothes back as I rummaged deeper.

   “If my soulmate wants to buy me lacey panties, I’d still wear these. I’m Top enough to be proud of my undies. We all know Tadashi tops you when the doors are closed, so that doesn’t give you a right to judge.”  I smirked, twirling my panties around my finger before shoving them back in my bag.

   “Roasted,” Kuroo backed me up, shifting through the cans of bug spray, hoping to find my box.

   “At least I’m getting some,” Tsuki huffed, not letting it go.    

   “I could get it if I wanted,” I lied. Not only was I plus size, but I was awkward around strangers. This didn’t mean I couldn’t get some, it just was hard enough when I had to find a chubby chaser, someone willing to date before finding their soulmate and not be a shy mess. Being around Kenma and Kuroo brought my confidence as a child, and it opened the doors for me to have so many friends. Yet, I wanted affection and attention in that romantic way.

   “It’s fine, we are supposed to be disconnecting from tech. I’ll turn my phone off to use for emergencies.” Tadashi reasoned, changing the subject.

   “I’ll do the same,” Kuroo set up the cans of spray and sunblock on the little table we brought to make things easier. Before Tsuki started annoying me, he was setting it up in front of the tent. “(Y/n), do you want to go check on Kenma and Hinata?”

   Silently I thanked Kuroo for an out. “Yea, those two are probably halfway down the river right now.” Dusting off my knees, I adjusted my shorts and held my head high, walking into the woods.

   “Other way,” Kuroo giggled, knowing I was beyond hopeless.

   “I was just testing you two.” I fired back, keeping my hands to my side. “Ah, forget it.”

   The best part of camping in this spot was that it was secluded. Most people didn’t bother trekking up the mountain when there was a road a few miles down. That was the plus of having athletic friends, they were able to be workhorses and carry our stuff. While we hadn’t been camping together before, I knew that if Kenma and Kuroo could do it, the others could too.

   We were on the flat part of the mountain top, but down the other side of the mountain was a river. Kenma and Hinata were sent to get us some water for washing up and doing dishes. When I finally skid down the hill, I saw Hinata swimming and Kenma on his game station, the buckets filled with water on the side.

   “It’s not time to goof,” I caught their attention, giggling as Hinata jumped on the dock, his clothes swallowing him like a drowned rat.  

   “Hey, (Y/n),” Kenma motioned for me to look over his shoulder. He was playing Animal Crossing. “Where should I put this bed?”

   “I like the bed in the center of the room, it makes me feel rich.” I put in my two sense, squatting down and resting my head on his shoulder. He put the bed down, then went to another empty room.

   “That won’t go with the flow of the bedroom. But that gives ideas me an idea for your room.” He explained, opening the design tool going to the side room. He pulled out an elegant bed and sat in the middle then put down some pastel wallpaper and flooring.

   “Now look who’s slacking.” Hinata wrung out his shirt and joined me in watching Kenma decorate.

   “It’s not slacking, it’s interior design,” I giggled, loving how Kenma was adding my favorite in-game animals to the table. “Besides, what the other’s don’t know won’t hurt them.”

   “Don’t know what?” Someone leaned their head on my shoulder, and I bounced up and around, knocking into them.

   “Bokuto, eh we were,” I covered Kenma with my body so he could save and hide his game. Hinata scurried over to the buckets.

   “You three were playing video games while we were gathering supplies.” Akaashi clicked his tongue, but I could see the slight smirk on his lips. He was standing up on the incline and definitely had the high ground.

   “We got water,” Hinata shot back, pointing to the pails. “We were just helping Kenma design.”

   “It’s going to evaporate if you don’t get it back to camp, the sun is almost at its highest point.” Akaashi had a bundle of wood under his arm, and Bokuto had the ax leaned up against a tree not too far from us.

   “Not to mention you’re drenched.” Bokuto laughed, hands on his hips. There was a thick layer of perspiration all over his body. He was one to talk about being wet.

   “I was supposed to keep them in line, but I got distracted,” I admitted, helping Kenma to his feet. “Let’s all go back together, yea?”

   “Yea,” Akaashi agreed, eyes lingering on me for some reason.

   “Oh yea, yea.” Bokuto grabbed the ax and a bucket of water. The focus shifts from me to finish the trio of yea’s.

   “Oh yea, yea, yea.” I sighed, resting a hand on my hip. “I’m not Kuroo, but I tried.”

   “Let’s hurry back,” Hinata changed the subject, grabbing two buckets. Kenma took one, and I grabbed the last pail. They were three-gallon buckets and not easy to manage.  Still, we had to get it back to camp.

   As we commenced going back uphill, I began to fall to the rear, as usual, it was either that or start to pant like a dog. I wasn’t the only one struggling, but I was the slowest and most unsure of where I was stepping and what I was stepping on.

   “We don’t need to rush,” Kenma slowed down to be beside me and nodded in solidarity. Bokuto and Hinata were racing to the top, spilling water as they went.

   “You are wasting it.” Akaashi reduced his pace to walk with us. “Those two have one brain cell between them.”

   “That’s a fair assessment,” Kenma shifted his bucket the other hand, and I did the same. The plastic around the wire handle not doing much in terms of ergonomics.

   “How was the advanced lit class?” Akaashi and I were in a similar field of study in school, and we had classes together often. So we were regular study buddies, but not this past semester.

   “It’s was challenging but not as hard as 396.” I could see the camp just ahead of us. Taking a deep breath, I pushed harder.

   “So less papers about unrequited love.” Akaashi determined, pushing his hair back. A bead of sweat sliding down his chin.

   “In essence, but to be fair, the 396 professor was just bitter, their soulmate rejected them.” I sat the bucket down with the others by the table.

   “Who rejected their soulmate?” Hinata piped up, handing me one of the bottles of drinking water.

   “Our professor.” Akaashi also got a bottle and downed it with one long swig.

   “What a nightmare,” Tadashi chimed in, holding Tsuki closer on his lap. They both were cuddling by the fire pit.

   “Was he mean or something?” Hinata pushed it further.

   “From the rumors, it was a petty reason like he was already balding or she was in love with a model.” I summarized, applying more sunscreen to my shoulders. “It made him a bitter man, who had an affinity for assigning tragic readings. In one semester, we read more books about soulmates never meeting or breaking up, to make up for a lifetime.”

   “Hamlet was a hard one,” Akaashi added, stretching his back.

   “Ophelia deserved better,” I sighed, remembering Hamlet being too preoccupied with other things to love her. “To be or not to be my ass.”

   “Let’s have happier thoughts.” Tadashi clapped his hands, going over to grab the fire starting kit.  “How about we celebrate setting up camp by lighting the fire and cooking up some lunch?”

   “Sounds like a plan,” Kuroo grabbed the hot dogs from the cooler.

   “Let’s get a seat.” Kenma tugged me to the logs that had been left by other campers, and we took our seat. Kuroo sat by Kenma, both of us leaning over his shoulder to watch him fish in animal crossing.

   “So when are we setting up the net?” Hinata picked up the volleyball and swirled it between his hands.

   “After we eat, we can go to the river and work on that.” Kuroo was always worried about us, making sure we were eating and staying hydrated. Even as a child, he’d often split his lunch with me when my mom would ‘forget’ to pack one for me. Later on, he just started to bring another bento for me. He always had my best interests at heart. He also worried over Kenma, that’s why I hoped he’d be my soulmate. Kuroo cared about everyone and took excellent care of me. While I wasn’t stereotypically beautiful, he always made me feel that way.  

   If my soulmate wasn’t Kuroo, I’d want them to be someone like him. I’d be okay if my soulmate was Kenma too, we’d get along just fine and play games all day. Or Akaashi, he was a little shy like me, but I could learn to be the outgoing one. Bokuto would be an okay spouse, he had a lot of energy, and definitely made for an excellent dance partner, he was just passionate. Hinata, well he was the one I knew the least, but he reminded me of Bokuto, but stable. Why did this turn into me thinking about my soulmate among my single friends? It didn’t matter; my soulmate was probably miles away, dating a pretty girl and living their best solo life.

   Deep inside my gut, I knew I’d be single for life. Kenma or Kuroo would take pity on me and let me live with them and their partner. I’d grow old and write the tragic books I spent all last year reading. Still, there was a flame lightly flickering in my chest, I could still keep dreaming for a better ending. It didn't have to be so tragic.

[samwrights]

Saint

Um. I’m sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️ lmao no tf I’m not. Thank you anon for this request! It’s been a really long time since I’ve wrote actual smut so let’s give a whirl, shall we?

Warnings: NSFW. Dirty talk, choking, rough sex (though only a brief mention of actual penetration), degradation, and I think that’s it? NSFW under the cut.

The two of you were such a strange dynamic to begin with. Despite his large, athletic build, Kuroo Tetsurō was a brilliant man that often donned a lab coat; using his brains to support chemical innovation in the world. He was sarcastic and playful, yet dorky and very sincere despite the loving a good battle of wit. Truly, he was the total package.

You, on the other hand, barely reached his chest with your short stature. Loud, bossy, but a visionary with unwavering courage that stood out astronomical miles in your field of being an editor for an alternative magazine. Miranda Priestly has nothing on you in terms of work ethic.

Despite the fact that the two of you have been dating since your first year at university together, it still blew everyone away that the two of you had even lasted, let alone for the last six years.

“There’s no way the sex is that good,” Bokuto had balked. The former Fukurodani ace, along with his former setter and now partner, and Kuroo himself got together one Saturday a month for a boy’s night. Some days, Tsukishima Kei would join in, along with Hinata. Today, it was just the old Tokyo trio. “Dude, she’s crazy!”

“I’m not saying anything,” says Kuroo, holding up his hands in nonchalance before knocking back the rest of the beer in his bottle. “But yes, it is that good.” It wasn’t Kuroo’s only reason for being with you, no. You were a hard worker that always gave more than one-hundred percent at everything you did, including your guys’ relationship. In that was your unmatchable ability to resolve any conflict. It seemed like such a stupid reason to stay with someone, Bokuto and Akaashi had even told him so at one point, but he knew that the Fukurodani couple had never felt the strength, growth, and peace that it did for your relationship. 

Imagine being with somebody who listened to you and actively sought to work through problems together rather than starting a fight because you forgot it was your turn to do the dishes. Kuroo had never been in such a fulfilling relationship and, to be honest, he didn’t want to attempt to find another one—he was in it for the long haul and he wouldn’t stop until you told him it was over.

“She’s a top.” Akaashi blanches, noticing the way Kuroo’s eyes almost distance as he silently reflects on his relationship. “He’s got the same look in his eye when I wonder why I’m dating you,” the former setter deadpans, staring at his silver haired partner.

“You are so mean, Akaashi!”

“Are you implying Bokuto’s—you know what, never mind,” Kuroo stops in his tracks, reaching for another bottle from the bucket. “I don’t even wanna know.”

“Babe, I’m home!” Kuroo calls out the minute he steps through the threshold of your guys’ shared apartment. He can hear the stovetop kettle whistling as you make yourself your usual evening tea to unwind after an impromptu day at the office. “Hey,” he greets again as he steps into the kitchen. You’re only wearing a mid-length fluffy robe, from what he can tell.

“Hey, baby. How was boy’s night?”

“The usual,” Kuroo sidles closer, wrapping one arm around your waist before pressing a kiss into your hair, “still thinking I’m crazy for dealing with you.” A laugh escapes you as you pour your tea.

“I mean, you kind of are,” you concede, “you’re an absolute saint for putting up with me.” An unimpressed hum leaves his lips as he adjusts himself so that he has both hands on your waist. His hazel eyes are burning into yours as he glowers—he doesn’t like it you talk about yourself like this; like you were a burden; like you were too much to handle. “Oh, you know it’s true. I’m a lot to deal with.” You roll your eyes before gently pushing him out of your way so that you can curl up in front of your little fireplace.

“[name], you know that it’s not true.”

“What, that you’re a saint—“

“Baby, I am the furthest thing from that.” You’re thankful that Kuroo at least gave you a moment to set the mug down before he’s on top of you in the most feral way. With lips latched onto the base of your neck, Kuroo’s expert hands fiddle with the knot that’s holding your robe together. “Stop saying you’re too much,” the former Nekoma captain murmurs along your collarbone as he ventures down. “If anything, you aren’t enough.”

“Tetsu...” You simper as he nips at the flesh.

“I can never have enough of you.” When did his fingers undo your robe? You had no idea, nor did it matter the moment. Calloused fingers danced along your bare stomach, tracing patterns unknown to you before traveling town the tops of your thighs.

“Tetsu, touch me.” The words leave your lips in a breathless whine. A chuckle rumbles in his chest, his breath fanning over you as he looks up at you, all the while his tongue darts out to tease your bare nipples.

“You know, Akaashi thinks you’re a top,” he muses as he travels from one breast to another, as if he were talking about the weather rather than your sexual preferences. “Should I tell them next time you love being fucked like a whore?” The word leaves Kuroo’s lips as he jams two fingers inside of you. It should be unpleasant, it would be unpleasant, if just looking at your boyfriend didn’t turn you on instantly. “Aw, cute. You’re already wet.”

“Skip the foreplay, Tetsu—“

“And now you think you’re calling the shots?” Kuroo takes his freehand that’s been essentially absent until now, and presses it into your throat. The heel of his hand is digging into the base of your neck while his fingers give tentative squeezes around the sides of your windpipe. He’s checking to make sure he has your consent to continue. You only moan in response. “Who’s in charge here, princess?” It’s difficult to respond with a hand wrapped around your neck; even more so when your boyfriend has two fingers ramming themselves into you just the way you love it.

“You are, Tetsu.” You manage to rasp out, your hands traveling underneath his shirt. You needed to touch him. Feeling the delicate pads of your manicured fingers even just grazing the muscle under his abdomen earns a groan from the man above you. He pulls his fingers out from you, earning a moan in disappointment from your struggling mouth as you long for the feeling of being filled. Instead, he rolls your sensitive clit between his middle and index fingers, doing anything and everything to rile you up.

“You never answered my question.” Kuroo deadpans, bringing his face dangerously close to yours. You can smell the stale wheat ale on his breath as his nose delicately rests on yours, all the while his hand is still nearly strangling you. At some point, spots in your vision were beginning to cut out from the lack of oxygen—Kuroo could even tell. It was a look he never grew tired of seeing. “Answer the question.” He bites out, slamming his lips on yours. The succession of movements comes rapidly as he finally lets go of your throat, pulling away to allow you to breathe while simultaneously rubbing at your clit vigorously to coax your first orgasm of the night. “Want me to tell the boys you love getting fucked like a whore?” He asks again. For a moment, you teeter back and forth between saying yes and no. If you said no, he was going to keep playing with you in the way you craved after a rough day at work. But if you said yes, he was either going to choke you with his hand or his cock.

Either option is favorable at this point.

Tetsurō’s fingers are moving with a knowledge that only he knew—bringing you closer and closer to orgasm as he inserts them once again, curling them instinctively to push on your sweet spot. “Fuck!” You scream, the word sending shivers up Kuroo���s spine. But for your sake, he’s doing his best to ignore how much he wants to rip his own clothes off and pound into you and break the couch. Again.

“C’mon baby, tell me.” It was meant to come out as a demand, you knew so, but the most Kuroo could muster out right now was broken pleas thanks to his throbbing erection. He needed to be inside you, and he needed it now.

“Go ahead,” you all but cry out and for a moment the man is unsure if you’re giving him permission to fuck you or tell his friends the real dirty details of your sex life. “Tell them the truth, tell them I’m your little slut.” Kuroo lets out a groan before tearing his fingers away from you once again and immediately unbuckling his jeans, revealing his painfully hard cock and filling you without a bout of resistance. Both of you let a breath out, as if neither of you realized you were holding one.

“I love you,” he reminds you, breaking character for just a moment. Or rather, in apology because you know he’s going to break the goddamn couch again. Experimentally, Kuroo cautiously pulls out, his cock bottoming out inside of you as he does so, before just leaving the tip inside of you. His hand is dancing along your throat again, as the two of you hold eye contact. “Still think I’m a saint?”

[butchford]

All 25 for Yuno please and thank you

Does this for rewrite Yuno so canon Yuno actually <3

1) Something this character is truly proud of.

Coming back from the grave she’s dug herself quite literally like after all the killing and suffering she’s managed to make good friends who genuinely care about her more than her shitty parents ever did

2) Who they want to please the most.

To begin with it was Yuki simply because Yuki was Just Sitting There and acknowledged Yuno as a human capable of emotion and thought but god Yuno needed that to the point where she fixated on his existence as means of coping with her own. Nowadays she just wants her gfs Mao and Hinata to be happy though <3

3) Who depends on them.

Their entire friend group depends on her experience and expertise in the game to survive as well as to work out a plan but afterwards? They still depend on her in a way of “you’re my friend and I care about you. Please show me how to properly use this knife so I can idk make a wolf carving or something :]” like they love her and Need her to be happy so they try really hard to remind her that her skills are still useful when they’re not fighting for their lives

4) What they would do if they had one month to live.

Yuno I think would isolate herself like she’d go “I’ve caused enough pain; it’s better for them just to think I finally ran off” but within a day Hinata would track her down and make her fess up and the rest of the month would be spent doing whatever Yuno had haphazardly jotted down onto her bucket list as advised by Aru

5) A cherished personal belonging.

Mao got her a stuffed animal & Hinata won her one at the fair once and neither of them leave her bedside because while her awful parents may have been rich they’d never bothered to buy her anything of comfort or out of genuine love so by god she clings to both of those stuffed animals for dear life every night that Mao and Hinata don’t share her bed

6) Something they lost, but would love to have back

Yuno never really had parents who loved her but she’d love to have a pair

7) This character’s favorite character

Yuno thinks Shiori rgu is Neat and then she’s like ahaha wait. Wait.

8) What kind of car they would drive.

Hm i don’t think Yuno would be a driving for the hell of it type but the honest answer to this is whatever is easiest to hotwire

9) What calms them when they are upset.

Yuno needs one of her gfs to stroke her hair and just. Not ask any questions for a little while

10) How they deal with pain.

Yuno still tries to completely ignore it despite her intentions to address it but Hinata will see her going a little Too Apeshit on the punching bag and then gently pressure her into admitting she’s going through Something before getting the words out of her mouth through the wall her brains created around her ability to be honest

11) This character’s favorite piece or pieces of clothing.

Mao’s mom knitted her a pink sweater and she loves it so so much because it’s physical proof of the fact she is loved and also it’s Pink

12) How they sleep.

Yuno cannot sleep unless she has the aforementioned stuffed animals &/or her gfs at her side or she’s tired/lost enough blood to just pass the fuck out. 99% of the sleep she does manage to get is haunted by bad memories intrusive thoughts and other brands of nightmares

13) What kind of parent they would be.

I think given the right amount of time to process what was done to her she could be a good parent because she wouldn’t wish what was done to her on anyone but she would just be relatively Awkward around kids despite always having candy on her when she visits any of her friends with kids like Yuno Gasai definitely does Try

14) How they did in school

Yuno struggles in school from being Out Of It thanks to her abusive parents for a considerable portion of it but she tries really hard to catch up and Hinata Mao and even Aru who doesn’t care for school themself will help her should she ask

15) What cologne or perfume they would use

Yuno sees cotton candy anything and goes “yooo fuckin sick :)”

16) Their sexuality

Lesbian. <3

17) What they’d sing at karaoke

Yuno would either break the fourth wall and sing blood teller or sing Magia like she just loves baller eds about love and death

18) Special talents they have

Yuno is Very Good with nearly every weapon you can imagine but also she can paint really well like it’s always abstract but god she can convey emotion extremely well through images

19) When they feel safest

Lying in the sun next to Mao and Hinata in Hinata’s dad’s old mansion like she is simply at peace in the warmth of the sun with only better days ahead of her..

20) Household chore they hate the most

Yuno hates having to clean her room because any evidence that she’s Lived somewhere without having to run and in comfort is something that she finds comfort in

21) Their fondest childhood memory

Minene shows Yuno girlsgogames dot com one day when she learns about how shitty Yuno’s parents were after the killing game’s passed and it’s not much but Yuno finds great solace in it

22) How they spend their money.

Yuno loves food like she will see cotton candy or cake or pocky and she’ll go “that’s it that’s going in the cart!” Also Yuno loves stuffed animals like she’ll buy at least one a month for her room and she’ll always give one to Mao and Hinata when the opportunity presents itself. Also she’ll see a pink gun and go el oh el Minene would u mind lending me ur- wait ur wanted internationally. Nishijima would u mind lending me ur id

23) What kind of alcohol they drink

Yuno just thinks alcohol is disgusting

24) What they wish they could change about themselves

Yuno wishes she could’ve figured out a Lot about herself sooner than she did like she wishes so badly she could’ve known the feeling in the pit of her stomachs wasn’t love it was fear for her life and the life of the single person she clung to for so long. She also desperately wishes she hadn’t taken so many lives that would’ve been fine had she not touched them.

25) What other people wish they could change about them

Yuno’s found family wishes that Yuno would stop being so hard on herself like yes she murdered many people but also her own parents stuck her in a cage she then put them in there and let them die before she was thrown into a killing game which she originally won and then repeated after she found out that she couldn’t bring people back from the dead then killed an alternate version of herself and she is 14.

[despairko]

Radio Waves: A KomaHina AU

Description: Hajime Hinata is a nighttime radio announcer for a station that broadcasts poetry, but his life is stuck in a rut and he dreads coming to his job every night. That is, until a mysterious anonymous poet catches his attention with an unnamed submission and turns his entire life upside down. Chapter: 1/5 Word Count: 4,777 Archive Warnings/Rating: No archive warnings; suitable for all audiences

Read it on AO3

“Thank you to all the listeners who tuned in again tonight, may we stumble across each other again. Goodnight.”

The faded red broadcasting light blinked off, and Hinata let out a relieved sigh. The first order of business was to toss the clunky black headphones on the table. The second, he decided, was to leave as fast as possible. Still, he couldn’t help but to take a moment to throw his head back and slump down in his chair, burying his face in his hands and rubbing at his eyes. They burned a bit already from the hours spent awake, staring at the station-provided laptop screen, and he could feel the blood pulsing behind them, thudding fists on the walls of his vessels. He let his hands fall, stared at the white spotted ceiling and the dancing dots that colored his eyes, then shoved himself out of the seat with a start, using what seemed like all of his energy just to get himself to his feet.

His heart dropped as the door swung open. In walked his producer, a small, rounded man with cropped, greying brown hair and glasses that slide down his nose when he talks too vigorously, which he makes a habit of (much to Hinata’s dismay).

“Another successful show, Hinata!” He slapped his arm with an overwhelming amount of force, causing Hinata to stumble forward and bump into the table, shaking it. Without seeming to notice, he continued. “You always manage to read things just right. You really have a knack for radio!”

I don’t have a “knack”, I have 8 years of experience, Hinata thought to himself. His voice came out a low mutter. “Thanks.”

Without looking at the loud, imposing figure in front of him, he made a beeline to his bag, shoving in the laptop and beginning to dig for his keys. Beyond all hope, he prayed for his producer to leave it at that, say his goodbyes, and disappear into the next day like he was planning on doing, but his boisterous booming continued.

“You know, Hinata, we really ought to advertise this show more. I think we could pull in a lot more listeners. We could do a press tour, maybe a couple TV spots, hell, maybe even a billboard! Think about it,” he dropped his voice, conspiring excitedly. “Your voice, lording over everyone on the route into town in every town.”

“People don’t like poetry that much,” he murmured.

“But they could!” The producer slapped him on the back, still too hard and Hinata had to catch himself to keep from falling over.

He pulled himself upright, having fished his keys from his backpack and thrown it over his shoulder. “I don’t really want to do all of that. I don’t really want my face ‘lording over everyone on the route into town in every town.’” He shrugged. “I’m perfectly happy with how the show is going right now.”

As he said that, he knew it wasn’t entirely true. He hadn’t been happy in this god forsaken job in well over a year. If you do anything long enough it turns into sleepwalking.

The producer’s face stiffened slightly, the smile falling into a straight line. The creases on his forehead deepened, as did his tone as he said “My boy, you really ought to consider the future of this show. There are things you need to pay attention to.” His smile returned, but more cautiously. “Just give me the word, though, and I’ll get you everything you need!”

“Thank you, sir,” Hinata bowed slightly. “But I already have everything I need.”

Before the producer could wander into a minefield and step on another topic, Hinata rushed to the door and pushed his way out into the mostly deserted hallway. The corridor was lined with dirt, topped with fluorescents, and filled with the disgusting and visceral experience of both. The smell was subtle but somehow overwhelming, earthy and slightly sweat stained. He made his way to the fingerprint pocked glass doors at the front of the studio and pressed his way into the fading night. Slight hints of sunrise were already showing themselves over the rooves of the scattered cars in the parking lot.

Stumbling through the grey light, Hinata pulled himself into his car, jammed the keys roughly into the ignition, heard the old rust bucket sputter to life, and, with another tired sigh, drove off into the last clinging moments of the night.

The hike up to the apartment was marked by four infinitely steep sets of metal stairs, weaving back and forth across the hollowed space; a few lights buzzed along the walls, their posses of moths swimming around them dutifully. Hinata pushed through the fire door and rounded the corner, shuffling down the hallway to his front door. Unlocking it, he lets himself in.

He dragged himself over to his bed, swayed, then fell onto it with a soft thud. The springs sputtered. He slid his backpack off of his shoulders and dropped it over the edge onto the floor next to him, heard the thud of the laptop. Crawling further onto the mattress, he tossed the blankets over his body, and closed his eyes tightly, letting his head sink into the pillow. Thoughts swarmed his head, a low and indistinguishable hum with very few recognizable features. The most familiar of these was the one screaming how tired he is.

Still, his body refused to calm. He turned onto his side, then the other side, flopping onto his stomach then rolling onto his back, shifting his arms and legs in a dance with exhaustion that left him somehow more awake. Each turn somehow becomes more uncomfortable that the last.

Eventually he sat up and clicked on the lamp on his bedside table. The blackout curtains were doing their job, but a cool glow around its edge told him that the day was coming and coming fast. Frustration welled, hot in his chest. Checking the time, he saw it has been only about an hour, though that hour was poised as if swimming upstream and failing against the current, slipping slowly but steadily down the river anyway.

The beauties of the graveyard broadcast slot.

He leaned over the edge of the bed and pulled the station laptop from the bag, tossing it onto his lap. Shifting his body back, he leans against the wall behind the bed. A familiar screen greeted him when he swung open the lid. The viewer submissions page.

The station insisted that the best way to build a base of loyal listeners was to have most of the show devoted to their writing. Hinata, who had been seventeen when his job on the show started, had not considered how miserable of a task this would become. He supposed he’d been somewhat naïve in letting the producer convince him to become a co-host, and then a host, but it was money and he was at least decent at his job. He didn’t have a particularly special voice, but he was able to bullshit his way through most of the analysis, a skill he learned well in high school, and the audience (what little of it there was) seemed to buy it with blood. And those same listeners submitted poem after poem for Hinata to slog through. He very rarely saw even one that piqued his interest, especially after eight years.

He started at the top and scrolled through each poem, skimming most and skipping some entirely. Words blurred together; ideas spat at him indiscriminately.

He stopped. Leaned closer. Read.

All the stars in all the skies, their sparkling teeth, their glaring eyes,

stare down on all the little ants, point magnifiers, watch them dance.

Aloft the mountain, stare in glee as gods cast down magnanimity—

I await my turn in line, cast in either role I’d be fine.

- A.I.

His eyes hovered over the words. It was… good? Not great, not by any stretch of the imagination. But it was simplistic, lyrical almost. The last stanza is weak, sure, the rhyming is too simple and the word choice too direct, but there was something about it that made him pause. Something. Something. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he marked it as “Read on Air,” and continued scrolling.

Hinata woke up with his laptop still open, the screen black. It had died while he slept. He was able to get about seven hours of sleep after his late-night leisure reading, and he had a few hours until his next broadcast started. Struggling against the tangle of blankets, he rose from bed and put the laptop on his nightstand, plugging it in to the nearest outlet to charge.

While making breakfast, he found his mind wandering back to that poem. His listeners tended to be wannabes—they tried too hard, picked words and images that made no sense. They likened love to a spatula or pain to a straw basket. Hinata spent too much time with his nose in a dictionary because his listeners spent too much of theirs in a thesaurus. It wasn’t a great poem, it was somewhat enjoyable at best, and the author—A.I.—certainly wasn’t publisher-ready material, so why was it sticking to him?

He pondered this over his coffee, taking slow sips and watching his cereal slowly dissolve. His phone buzzed, snapping his mind back to the moment. He looked at the caller ID. Producer.

“Hello,” he started, his voice sticking slightly with the still lingering grogginess. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hello.”

“Hinata! I need you to come in a bit earlier starting in about two weeks. We have to discuss some things with the station manager, but he’s out of town on business until then.”

“Mmhmm,” he said, not registering the request fully. If he allowed himself to get frustrated about it now, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to say anything but a polite “fuck you” to this man, who just so happened to be his boss. Not a good look. So instead, he sighed and let his producer continue.

“Also, you need to select some more poems for tonight. We’re about six short.”

“I already went through all the submissions, I can just—”

“Pick six more. The listeners love it.” A lot more than the other shit you read. Okay, well fuck them.

“Alright. I’ll find some.”

“You can look at some of the submissions from the past couple days and pick from there, too, if you’re really pressed about it. We need to fill the air space.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t forget, two weeks. An hour early.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll get overtime pay.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t forget.”

“Alright, I won’t.”

“Okay, then, see you tonight for another great show!”

“See you then. Bye.”

The producer hung up, letting Hinata drop his phone to the table with a clatter.

“Now,” Hinata said, his voice my full and warm than usual. He let the character of the radio announcer take his place as he zoned out, sure to soon find himself wandering in an unfamiliar field of his mind, naming flowers he’d never seen before. He smiled, a red light blinking in the corner of the room. He remembered that his producer had told him as soon as he’d walked in the door that they would now be running a YouTube channel for his show. “To get a bigger audience.” Of fucking course, it was. The red glare let him know that people were watching, or at least they would be watching in about twelve hours’ time. He smiled because he had to.

“It’s time for everyone’s favorite portion of the show, user submissions. These daring people have graciously shared their writing with us, and I have personally chosen their works to be featured. As always, I’ll be reading the poem and giving my thoughts on it, then accepting calls from listeners who want to say their piece.” Hinata tried not to look at the camera, its glassy eye unblinking, so he instead turned to his laptop, the first poem open and ready for reading. “The first piece is called ‘Eye of the Storm’, by Ari Fukawa. Say, that name sounds familiar, I wonder if our author is in any way related to novelist Toko Fukawa? Maybe it’s a pen name. But, if the two are related, writing seems to run in the family. Without further ado…”

Hinata’s voice carried on without him, a skill grown from the labor of thousands of hours. He dropped to a whisper when the words felt small, and grew infinitely larger when they rose, like waves rocking to a steady lyrical tempo. He could understand why people enjoyed his reading, but he could always hear a hollowness in his own voice when a poem’s voice didn’t harmonize.

He finished his reading, letting the silence linger a moment. “Don’t hesitate too long,” his former co-host, Mori, had said smugly. “Don’t want them to think you died from how horrible it was.” Somehow, he had hated this show more than Hinata, and was gone within a year or his arrival. People initially held a lot of animosity towards Hinata, because he had dared to replace the show’s creator. The last thing he needed was an ego inflation, but when someone sent a lock of their hair to him and, in the same breath, threatened to bomb the station all he did was laugh and say, “That’s show business, baby!” It didn’t take long for the audience to forget him. Hinata’s youthful voice and sense of humor won them over without much resistance and, thankfully, no bombs. That’s show business, baby.

He sighed, easing the silence out. “Wow, what a piece. There were a lot of really unique details I noticed that the author used very well. Speaking of the author, let’s read the their submission notes.”

“’I wanted to submit this poem because my life has always felt like it has existed at the eye of a storm. Around me, everything is spinning out of control, and all I do is keep moving, taking in the chaos as I go. But at the same time, since I’m surrounded by chaos I can’t exist without it, and it’s hard to reach people when I’m surrounded by such a violent aura. I hope that I can hear your thoughts on this, since I’m such a fan of your show. Much love, Ari Fukawa.’ Well, thank you Ari, that is very sweet of you to say.” For a moment, his voice becomes more boyish and playful. Then, he sinks back into his smooth cadence. “And I think that your poem expressed this feeling very well. The motif of the storm…” his words even out, business as usual. Chaos, huh. It’s a good idea, strong, but way too well tread to be original, especially with how cheesy the whole thing is. It’s hard to take a poet seriously when they describe an infinite state of unrest with the phrase “kind of crazy, never lazy, a world of ideas foggy and hazy.” It’s juvenile. But the words out of his mouth, instead, are words of humble thanks. Thanks for sharing your thoughts, your writing, your creativity. Thank you for listening, thank you for submitting. Thank you for spewing your bullshit. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Poem after poem, the same empty thank you. Caller after caller with prewritten responses in order to sound smart, so many people calling in “anonymously” to compliment work that is “definitely not theirs” and call the author the next Homer or some fucking reach. It’s exhausting. But the smile stays on his face. For the camera. For the listeners. Mostly for the paycheck.

And his heart skips when he sees the next poem. An unnamed, anonymous submission from someone going by the initials A.I. He’d been looking forward to this. His breath caught for a moment, and he had to force it out. His mind stalled, unable to conjure the words to introduce the poem. In that moment, he realized he didn’t want to share it, he wanted it all to himself. But the silence was creeping up on him. Don’t hesitate too long, the voice echoed in his head. Fractions of a second were precious on the air.

“Our last piece is an unnamed submission from someone who signed their work ‘A.I.’” His heart wasn’t beating particularly fast, but he noticed every pulsing thud in every part of his body. Calm down. It’s not even that good. Just read it. “Thank you, A.I. You know, AI refers to artificial intelligence, which almost makes me laugh.” He forced out a light chuckle, trying to trick his body into relaxing. “Because the thing I noticed most about this poem was how human and honest it felt. But that’s for later. Let’s start by reading it.”

He stared at the words on the screen, letting his eyes dance between them. Suddenly, the letters became incomprehensible shapes, but still his lips moved knowingly. In a moment of unreality, he was sure he was losing his mind. It’s average at best! Relax. He didn’t.

When his tongue finally stumbled across the familiar final syllables, he pulled himself back to reality. He felt the redness grow in his cheeks, trying to stuff it down. Damn it, he scolded himself silently. I never mess up my readings. “Well, listeners, I think that for such a short poem it’s clear that the author has a lot to say about the nature of tragedy and loneliness.” His voice waivered. Get it together. “The structure is clean, and the imagery is strong, wouldn’t you say? The idea of distant, watching eyes—” he glances at the camera, then pulls his eyes back, shaking his head. “—creates a powerful image of an uncaring deity. Waiting to see you fail. You are next in a long line of disappointments. You are nothing to them.” Anger. Where is the anger coming from?

Breathe. Calm down.

What are you doing?

Calm down. Fuck.

He lowers his voice, trying to cool the rising temperature of his words. “It’s a… a strong… image… if somewhat weakly said.”

What am I saying? I’m not supposed to actually criticize the listener submissions. The producer had warned him not to be harsh on the listener pieces after one incident where the author had complained to the station manager and put the producer on probation for “failing to properly monitor content.” Not to mention that actual criticism keeps people from submitting again.

He could feel himself getting flustered and began imagining the worst. His breathing shortened, and the panic started to contort his face. He struggled against the growing tightness in his chest and swallowed, trying to clear the way for something else to say. Be nice. Say the nice things. Don’t mess this up.

“The, uh, the,” he cleared his throat again, and his voice evened out slightly. “The word choice manages to be both accessible in terms of level of understanding and complex in terms of how it’s used within the structure, though this falters a bit at the end.”

What. The. Fuck.

The little semblance of control he had begun to feel suddenly slipped loose; whatever rope that was tied to his harness had snapped. He was falling.

Stop talking, go to the phones. His experience took over, and he was able to cut in on his own mind. “Overall, it’s a great piece, thank you A.I. Let’s see what the other listeners have to say about it!” Click. A phone call, someone talking. Their voice is distant, muted, somewhere underwater. Or is he underwater? He slapped his hands to his face, feeling his hot cheeks. He closed his eyes to keep them from being open too wide, looking like a deer in headlights. He was aware of the camera, but he couldn’t lift his head out of his hands, afraid it would roll right off his shoulders. He almost wished it would. As the caller began to slow in their explanation, Hinata began interjecting more “uh huhs” and “mmhmms” to convince them that he was still listening.

He’s started to talk again, but he didn’t know what he was saying. Calls continued to roll in, and he picked them up, let them ramble, let them feel important, meanwhile he sat trying to zip up whatever dead thing he just awoke. He turned off the mic for a moment, just breathing, or at least trying to. By the time all his callers had worn themselves out, he had mostly regained his composure. Never before in all his miserable years at the station had he ever wanted to leave faster. By the time the producer had walked the two-door gap to the room and pushed open the door, Hinata had already sprinted out of the studio and burst into the cold dawn air.

Unsurprisingly, he got a call on the way home. He reluctantly picked up.

“Hinata!” the familiar voice boomed from other side, enthusiasm poorly masking a hint of anger. “Where did you go? I wanted to talk to you about your show tonight.”

“Ah, s-sorry, I was feeling kind of sick, so I wanted to get home.”

His voice lifted a little bit, though a hint of darkened doubt still hung over them both. “Oh, alright! Well, I don’t want you to make yourself sick, but that… last poem.” There was a pause. Silence was so rare with the producer. Being in radio, he was not a fan of dead air.

“Sorry.”

More silence. Flatly: “Whatever that was, never again.”

“Understood.”

“Good.”

The lights whirred by outside Hinata’s car. A few raindrops threw themselves on his windshield. He thought he could feel the steady rotation of the earth. He was hurtling.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Hinata. Get some rest.”

“Thank you, sir.” The phone line clicked. Dead.

Hinata looked down at the phone in his hand, watching the screen go black again as “call ended” faded away. He took a deep breath and tossed his phone into the passenger seat, looking up in time to see a red light.

He slammed on the brakes, his tires squealing and jerking against the asphalt, as yet another surprise greeted him. A garbage truck, much larger than his beat-up compact car, blew through the intersection.

It took him until he was lightheaded to realize he hadn’t been breathing. He felt the sweat slowly trekking down his cheeks. He forced himself to blink, consciously reminded himself to close his mouth, swallow, breathe. In the silence, he realized he hadn’t remembered to turn on the radio when he got in the car.

At some point while Hinata was asleep, the producer had uploaded the video of the show highlights to the brand-new YouTube channel, though parts of clips were conspicuously missing or dubbed over, specifically the last five or so minutes when he had lost his cool. Instead, there was audio of the conversation over unused footage from earlier in the broadcast. It was surprisingly well matched, especially since the mic frequently covered his lips. You almost wouldn’t notice it.

But of course, Hinata knew. And there was something else that he knew that no one else did.

The sound of his voice. His own voice. It sounded so different than the rest of the show so, to him, it stuck out like a rusty nail, though he doubted anyone else could tell. When he was reading the last poem, his radio voice had faltered. It was still smooth, light, expressive and interested, but it wasn’t Radio Hajime, it was him.

He sat in bed and closed his eyes, listened to that part of the broadcast over and over, trying to figure out what happened. It was a simple poem. Written well enough, but nothing special.

And why did he lose his fucking mind and start criticizing it? Nerves? He hadn’t been nervous on air in years, at the very least not since high school. But nothing like this had ever happened before.

A.I. Are those your initials? He turned the letters over in his head. Who are you?

A few more days passed with no incident, and no more poems from the mysterious author. Things returned to normal. The hours passed more and more slowly until they once again felt like a slog. The producer seemed more than happy to forget what had happened, and the station didn’t receive any complaints. Hinata, however, couldn’t help but feel like he’d scared A.I. off. It ached a little to think he’d lost a listener because of whatever was wrong with him that day. He pretended to be content thinking he’d eaten spoiled sushi that had temporarily made him lose his mind. What else could it have been?

That made it all the more jarring when, Friday morning, he woke up to another submission by the mysterious A.I.

He hesitated.

What if he hated it? Then he could probably move on and be done. But it would hurt. As stupid as it seemed, it would feel like a betrayal.

But what if he liked it? Or even loved it? Then it could happen again. And he couldn’t afford that.

He skipped the poem and continued reading the other submissions. He deleted some, selected others, set others aside for another day if he got desperate, until it was just A.I. and him, alone, staring back at each other on an otherwise blank webpage. He closed the laptop and set it aside.

The radio show went off without a hitch, but Hinata couldn’t get the poem out of his mind. Again.

He had to know. He had the weekend to himself, since a different (more popular) broadcast aired in his time slot on the weekends, so he could just read it and decide over the next couple days.

When he got home, he resolved himself to sleep, but once again found himself unable to stop the whirling in his head. This is ridiculous, he told himself. I should just read it and get it over with.

He yanked the laptop out of him bag, and it dawned on him just how much free rent this had been taking up in his head for almost a week, and he still couldn’t quite understand why. He propped the computer up in his lap and opened the lid. The submissions page was already open, as usual, and a few more had come in, so he had to scroll past them in order to get to the one he couldn’t get out of his mind.

This one, unlike the previous submission, was titled. The Lotto. A little cliché. He chuckled to himself. Maybe he had overestimated A.I. After all, he wasn’t a master. It was possible that the way he’d written was simply a fluke. As his eyes scanned the lines, he realized that he was wrong.

An oaken spine holds aloft my head, beneath the hourglass I’m led by hand to face his sunken form, embraces cold, misted breath warm. I skin the tree and peel its flesh, carve numbers in the space it left submit my lotto to the brook, for Earth to steal, a whimsied crook. He spends my riches, has them mugged saunters streets—dismal, drugged; skin caked in deluded mud and tree his oceans wander back to me. Roused anew by needled rain, coerced to carve my hopes again, return them to the current drift to give willingly a reluctant gift.

Fuck. He sighed to himself. It’s… it’s better.

He could still go through and pick it apart line by line, find things wrong, poke holes in its weaknesses. It would have been stronger with a more consistent meter, even though the syllables largely match-up between stanzas. The rhymes are relatively simple, as is the structure.

But what he couldn’t do was get his heart to slow down, or get his body to move, or pry his eyes away.

Until they drifted to the author’s notes.

Hinata,

Thank you for reading my previous poem on air and thank you for your honesty as well. Your opinion means the world to me.

With love,

A.I.

His fingers tingled as they hovered over the keys. What would he write if he could describe this feeling? A gentle acid, diluted within his own sweat, warm and swelling. The overwhelming physics of dancing atoms charged and drifting. The pin pricks of static, radio static doodling shapes in his brain. It was all bullshit. None of it made sense.

He marked it as “Read on Air,” rolled over, and drifted off to sleep.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Seventy-Seven: Essence ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Fugaku ] [ SasuHina, blood, death ] [ Verse: River Runs Deep ] [ AO3 Link ]

“Is it really worth all the fuss? You know how difficult it was for us to traverse those mountains as a group. Surely a singular man stands no chance - I say let the deserter run. He’ll be dead by morning in those cursed peaks.”

Dark eyes stare ahead as the advisor speaks.

“We nearly lost your younger son to them! Would you risk losing anyone else?”

“The knowledge any one of us possesses would wreak havoc in the wrong hands. A traitor bears secrets that are weapons to our enemies. We came north seeking freedom, and we’ve found it. But now that we’ve settled...someone’s turn tail and takes our location with them. Should they find another clan to bargain that information to...it will ruin the peace we’ve sought and found. I will risk a scout for the good of us all.”

“...and who would you send, Fugaku-sama?”

Seated atop a stump in his tent as his people only just begin to settle, the man takes a moment to think. “...you said it yourself. Those peaks nearly claimed my son, but he conquered them alone. Avoided enemies, kami, yōkai...if anyone has better odds to do so again, it would be he.”

“You would risk your heir -?!”

“You forget I have another son yet. Older.”

A tense silence falls as Fugaku dares him to refute it. He knows well the opinion of his ill elder son, Itachi. Anyone who dares question him is aptly punished.

“...of...of course, Fugaku-sama. Forgive me, Fugaku-sama.”

“You are forgiven. Fetch Sasuke. I will give him his task.”

Unable to ignore a summon from his father, Sasuke enters the tent of his commander and sits, head bowed. “You called for me?”

“I have a mission for you, of the utmost importance. One of our own has abandoned us, and retreated into the mountains now to our south. I want you to find him...and kill him. None abandon the Uchiha and live to tell the tale. I will not let his knowledge fall into enemy hands.”

Face still turned to the floor, Sasuke nevertheless feels his eyes widen. The mountains…? But…

“You traversed those cursed peaks unharmed, and alone. If anyone can find and end this man - ensure he speaks to no one - it would be you, my son.”

Pride stoked at the title, Sasuke shifts to bow. “...as you wish, otōsama. It will be done.”

Though he still has his doubts about kami and monsters, Sasuke can’t help but feel...nervous. He was warned to avoid the peaks once. Told that a return would mean his death. But his family has fled their persecution...if someone rats them out, it may be their end. He has to take this risk. As long as he ends the traitor first...that’s all that matters.

And he may yet avoid the misty vale.

Gearing up for his journey, Sasuke leaves on foot, refusing a horse. He won’t risk breaking a slender equine leg on the treacherous paths. It would only be a waste. Staring up at the fog-bathed peaks from the foothills, he finds his prey’s tracks...and begins.

The loose rocks and gnarled roots of the camphor trees make every step a gamble - any moment, one wrong move could send him careening back down the mountainside until gravity deems him ready to stop. Sword at his hip and bow along his back, Sasuke alternates between carefully treading, and ensuring he’s still on the turncoat’s trail.

It’s not until dusk that he finds what he’s looking for.

Rounding a bend in the beast-made path he’s been following, Sasuke pauses as he notices freshly-turned soil, and broken tree branches. It doesn’t take much to guess what happened: the man stumbled, knocked loose stones, and tried to grip the trees...only for their limbs to snap. Bracing his weight back carefully after tying a rope around an obliging trunk, Sasuke rappels down only a few feet before seeing the aftermath.

At the bottom of the small ravine, wedged deep and partially buried by stone, is his man. Blood has splattered over the sides - clearly he impacted more than once. There’s no moans of pain, no stirring of living limbs. A few ravens already begin feasting on what’s lost.

He’s dead. And with him, any chance of his clan’s exposure.

Head bowing with a relieved sigh, Sasuke hauls himself back up, recoiling his rope and staring out ahead.

...something about this spot feels...familiar.

Though pushing his luck, he decides to go just a bit further. Besides, it’s nearly dark - he’ll have to wait out the night either way. If the path is dangerous in the daylight and mist, it’s a death sentence in the dark.

Cautiously cresting the small uprise of earth, Sasuke pauses as the winds afford him a clear view forward, fog carried aside for just a moment.

This is it. The path down to the valley.

Unbidden, his heart leaps into his throat. He refuses to call it fear, but...he is wary. This place - a miracle to be found twice - is not one welcoming. Even now, he easily recalls the threats.

“It is she who keeps us safe. And it is by your grace she allows you passage. She could have ordered you killed.”

“And who here, in a place without swords, would kill a swordsman?”

“She would. With tooth and claw. Then, perhaps, you would believe.”

He’s never believed in gods - not reverently. While he’d never press his luck and seek to anger one - he’s not a fool - nor does he put his faith in them.

...but that sound...it hadn’t been anything human. Nor like any beast he’s met. It was...something else.

But a god? Surely it’s not possible…

All the while, he weighs his options. To sleep on a loose-stoned mountainside is dangerous. But trespassing back into a village he was warned to never return to may be just as perilous. The miko - Hinata, was that her name? - told him none there carry blades. Surely none of the people would be a viable threat.

...but what if there’s something...inhuman?

Making up his mind, he decides to compromise. Make his way to the valley floor, but avoid the village. Find flat, stable land, sleep for the night...and head back home in the morning. He can follow the traitor’s trail backwards to camp.

Simple.

The path is steep, narrow, and growing dark. Through the trees he goes until finding where the land levels.

He doesn’t see the gate...but he feels a strange spark along his skin, like walking through a spiderweb laced with lightning.

...some kind of...tripwire?

In the distance, thunder sounds. Or...it mimics thunder. The air grows heavy. Night seems to fall all at once. And a deluge of rain dumps like buckets overhead, weighing the canopies above him until they offer no shelter.

Panic.

Heart pounding in his chest, Sasuke draws his blade, pressing his back to a trunk. Black eyes flicker back and forth in the darkness, able to see only hints of silhouettes as moonlight struggles to break through. A hand spares to mop back the wet lengths of his hair before gripping his sword again, hold shaking.

Then thunder claps again, closer this time...but it isn’t thunder. A roar, mighty and strong, echoes in his chest like a taiko drum and startles him to a strange stillness. Something heavy lands nearby, and the earth thrums as a beast of legend growls in anger.

“Trespasser…”

Trembling but still holding his blade, Sasuke struggles to see. Every so often, a small beam of moonlight reflects off shimmering scales that rustle like leaves in a dry summer wind, faintly heard over the sounds of pouring rain. Footsteps - heavy with purpose, and yet light with grace - seem to shake the ground.

Then out of the darkness, like a spark from flint, a lantern simply...appears, held aloft before him, but away. Facing him is the miko’s back, long curtain of dark hair sleek with rainwater.

Illuminated in her sphere of light is the dragon.

Scales of silver and ivory glint alongside moonstone antlers, quicksilver eyes sharp as pupils shrink in the light. A white mane still ebbs and flows like tall grass in a breeze, unburdened by the weight of water. A long slender neck arches and bows to hover a snake-like snout mere inches from the priestess’ brow.

“Please, O-Suigin-sama...don’t kill the wanderer.”

Sasuke stares at her back, eyes wide and breath rushing. She’s...defending him? Why? It was she who bore the god’s warning! Why defy it?

“You said when you found me that this is the place of the lost, the forgotten, the abandoned and the seeking. When he first discovered us, he was lost, but did not raise his blade. You gave your warning. He left. Against all odds, he has found us again.”

The god stares.

“You told me I bear the all-seeing white eyes. No truth lies hidden from me. And I can see the essence of this man - his heart is laid bare. He is not our enemy! I obeyed your wishes...I urged him to leave. But fate entangles all men. Surely...he was meant to return, if it went against the wishes of a god.”

Nostrils flare as the beast exhales plumes of vapor. “...I will not kill him. But none may linger who may yet leave. He carries the truth of this place...it cannot be known to one outside this valley’s walls. It invites danger…”

“...O….O-kami-sama,” Sasuke implores, slowly raising his hands in surrender before sheathing his blade. “...I mean you no harm, and no disrespect. I know your fear...it’s what brought me here. One who betrayed my kin risked the same danger. He knew of our hiding place. And I came here to stop him. I know well the weight of the knowledge of a secret. I give you my word on my honor: I have no intention to bring your people harm. I only sought refuge from the peaks. Come morning, I will return...and your secret will be safe with me.”

In a gesture of sincerity, Sasuke swallows his pride and kneels, bowing his brow to the wet grass, braced on his palms.

Both miko and kami stare at the gesture before the former turns to the latter. “...O-Suigin-sama…”

Serpentine eyes blink slowly. “...how odd you are, wanderer. None here found their way...I brought them. You alone have stumbled upon my eden...and you alone seek to leave. You were willing to kill for your secret...as am I.”

The miko moves to speak, but is cut off.

“I chose my miko carefully - she has eyes that see both worlds. If she tells me you are to be trusted...I in turn will trust her. But know this knowledge is heavy with souls. It is here I gather those otherwise unwanted by men. I keep them...they are mine and mine alone, tossed aside by their kin. I will let no harm befall them. If you have found this place - not once, but twice - perhaps my miko is right. Perhaps...fate ties you here.

“Someday... you will be the lost, the forgotten, the abandoned and the seeking…”

Not knowing what else to say - wanting to refute it, but feeling weight in his chest at her words - Sasuke doesn’t reply.

“Bring him to the village. Give him what he requires...then release him come morning. We shall see what path this wanderer takes...and if the vale lies at its end.”

With that, the serpentine dragon coils before leaping skyward, rippling like a ribbon and disappearing into the mist.

“...come. You’ll catch your death in those wet clothes.”

As though heeding her, the rain slows...and then stops.

Still shaken, Sasuke finds his feet, following. “...why did you defend me?”

“Because I meant what I said.”

“You were so distrustful before.”

“Because it is as O-Suigin-sama says: none had found their way here until you. I was...frightened, and wary. But to do so twice assures me: you are meant to know this place.”

“What is...the all-seeing white eye?”

“That is a tale for another time...but it gives me sight into both worlds. The plane of men, and of gods. I know truth without fail. I am O-Suigin-sama’s eyes.” The miko’s head bows. “...she took me when no others would. The people she brings to the valley are those between the planes - abandoned by men, rejected by gods. She gives them what they need. She heals them. Here we are safe...here we are wanted.”

Something in her words strikes a knowing in him.

He’s led to the same small, empty house. “A meal will be brought, and spare clothes. Supplies will be gathered for your journey back. And remember...tell no one of us. Not your most trusted kin. Do not abuse our trust in you.”

“...very well.”

     Oh golly it's late and I'm tired, but...this is done?      This is technically a follow up to day sixty, and...well, just like that one, I'm not sure if I like this one either, haha - at least, I don't know if I pulled it off like I wanted, but...today was a long day, and I couldn't start writing until pretty late. Add in having NO ideas for this until even LATER, and...well, you get this.      Miko (at least, OLD miko) are SUPER interesting, and I honestly need to read up on them more. They convened with gods and in some cases were said to marry them. They had visions, performed rituals...I love their lore, and I borrow it both here, and also for witchy lore in my Nightwalkers universe! While I'm far from an expert, hopefully I did okay with her here - I didn't have time to look things up / refresh my memory.      So yeah, Sasuke's found himself a little tangled up in two worlds: that of his human clan, and now a strange village that seems to exist in-between, featuring a character of my own, though...in a different form than typical. I reference her in a lot of things, actually - she's just typically actually human most of the time, but this is meant to be her god / kami verse. So she gets a little spotlighting in this one, though I try not to focus on her too much, since this challenge is about SasuHina!      ...anyway, I'm rambing really bad cuz I'm tired, so I'll stop here lol - thanks for reading!

[foxesandferrets]

Stand by Me

Rating: Gen

Pairing: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

Tags: Ponyo AU, Fluff, kagehina as little kids

Note: This was my submission for the hq ghibli zine that won’t happen but as participants we’ll try to do a free e-zine! So go to this blog for more info about that!

My partner is the amazing and really great @bibbidibobbididette​! Check her blog for cool art wink wonk ;D 

Edit: Please look Pixie’s art of this fic ;v;

********                          ********

Ignoring every voice, every sound, every wave, Tobio continues swimming against the violent flow. He’s had enough of being trapped, hidden from the world; a world too cruel to accept him it seems, but is everyone like that?

A branch hits him in the face and he’s left to the mercy of the water for a few moments. Shaking himself to his senses, Tobio prepares to resume his way against the current when suddenly something smacks his head, knocking him out.

It’s hard to know how much time he sleeps, but when something restrains him unconsciously he fights to be released; if this is another of Oikawa’s bubbles he’ll slap him.

Voices he doesn't recognize murmur near him, faces a blur as his eyes struggle to adjust. The sounds become clear before the images, his vision still fogged.

“Is that alive?” one voice asks.

“I think is a toy. Let me take it out,” another says.

Then there’s hands touching him, roughly. He doesn’t like it.

His vision starts to return, letting him realize he’s backwards and facing a couple of kids with bright orange hair.

“I don’t think it's a toy. Look, it’s moving.” The girl points at him. She’s tinier than the boy at her side and her hair is tied in two ponytails. “Let’s put it in my bucket! I want it!” She says, raising her arms, which are holding said bucket, and smiling.

“Why do you want it? It looks dead and ugly.” The boy holding him frowns, shaking him with too much force.

Who does this boy think he is? He’s ugly as well!

[Read the rest in Ao3]

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Twenty-Five: Pyramid ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, bullying ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

There’s a reason Sasuke’s become the sort of kid who would rather play by himself.

It seems that every time he comes to enjoy something, another kid has to come along and just...ruin it! If he finds a bird to watch while out on the playground, another noisy child shows up and scares it away. If he’s reading a book, someone will pester him and ruin his concentration.  And if he’s playing make-believe, other kids interrupt with their own imaginings, and suddenly his are all for naught.

It’s meant often just retreating into the corner during free time. If everyone else is going to be so obnoxious...then he’ll just hide from them. Problem solved!

Today of all days, he’s found a hidey hole among some bushes in the playground. Safe from prying eyes, he’s taken to silently miming with the new stuffed dinosaur his mother got him for his birthday. Mr. Roary is an excellent conversationalist. Meaning...he doesn’t talk at all. He just sits and exists quietly. Cutely.

Just beyond his hideaway is the sand box. Not most kids’ favorite, as the little granules tend to get in their clothes and start itching. But apparently, someone else is trying to make due with everyone else’s avoidance.

Peering up as he hears footsteps, Sasuke can just make out someone poking about nervously. They seem to circle a bit before settling on a place in the sand, fetching a few of the designated toys for the pit: a shovel, a bucket, and a little flagpole. Surely here, in the corner of the playground, mostly tucked out of sight and in the sand, they’ll be safe...right?

...wrong.

For about five minutes, his companion - they look like a girl? - plays uninterrupted. She’s currently shoveling up sand into the bucket, and dutifully dumping it into a pile. Soon enough, she has a rather impressive cone! Though...he wonders if maybe she intends more for it to be a pyramid…? They’ve been looking at notable places around the world in class lately, and Egypt was one of them. Is that what she’s trying to do?

“What the heck are you doing?”

Both the girl and Sasuke jolt, caught off-guard by the appearance of several older kids also out on break. They gather in a semicircle around the sandbox.

“U...um…”

“Is that just a pile of sand? How lame! What’s the point, huh?”

Almost cowering behind her creation, she seems to struggle to find an answer. “I...I-I just…”

“Piling up dirt is what babies do - are you a baby? Huh?”

From his hiding spot, Sasuke scowls. Who the heck are these guys? Why can’t they just leave her alone?

“N-no!”

“You gonna cry? Ya big baby!” A chorus of laughter rings out, the girl’s shoulders quaking in what’s obviously both fear and embarrassment.

“C’mon, kick it over!”

“N-no, w-wait -!”

They ignore her, one boy shoving her away as the others all kick and punt at the mountain of sand. It flies everywhere, including out of the sandbox and into the grass.

“S-stop it!”

“Hey!”

All eyes turn to the bushes. “...who said that?” one bully demands.

“Leave her alone, right now!”

“Get outta there!” another kid shouts, all three turning to face the disembodied voice.

With a leap, Sasuke does just that, hollering and brandishing a stick. “Get away, you jerks!”

“Hey -!”

“He’s got a stick, what -?”

“We’re gonna tell on you!”

Ignoring the threats, Sasuke waves the limb around, still yelling. Clearly confused and more shocked than scared, the trio take off, still claiming they’re going to tattle on him. Still, Sasuke never actually hits them, only making a big show before stomping a foot. “And stay away!” he shouts after them, tossing his makeshift weapon back into the bushes before fetching Mr. Roary.

The girl just stares at him, clearly both perplexed, and yet thankful. “T...thank you…?” At least he wasn’t yelling at her, but that was scary!

Sasuke gives a curt nod. “...sorry about your pyramid…”

“...it’s okay…” She looks sadly to the demolished sandbox. “I-it would be gone by tomorrow, anyway…”

“Still, they didn’t have to do it now,” Sasuke insists, plopping down beside her. “...wanna make another one?”

She perks up. “You...you w-want to…?”

“Sure.” He likes her so far - she seems quiet, like him. Maybe she’ll actually be fun to play with...not like the other kids. “Is there another shovel?”

“I think so…” She rummages around in the toy chest, finding just that and handing it to him. Together, they start stockpiling more sand into the bucket, taking turns to dump it into a new, even bigger cone! Er...pyramid.

And then trouble comes back. This time...with a teacher.

The trio all hide behind the woman, who folds her arms. “Someone tells me you were holding a stick like a weapon, young man,” she notes, perking a brow.

“They started it!” Sasuke rebukes, scrambling to stand up in front of their creation. “They were being mean, and tore down her pyramid! So I scared ‘em off...but I didn’t hit ‘em!”

She blinks, then glances behind him. “...is that true, Hinata?”

Well, he knows her name now. She hesitates, obviously afraid of making things worse. “It...i-it’s true. They came and knocked it down...Sasuke make them leave. But he didn’t h-hit them, honest! He just w-waved it around and scared them, to make them go away!”

The teacher heaves a sigh. “...all right, I’ll let it slide this time. But you can’t always resort to that kind of behavior, young man. And I’m going to need to tell your parents when they come pick you up today.”

“...okay.” Pouting, he manages a glare at the bullies, who do the same as the adult turns her back.

It’s clearly not over...but at least they leave for now.

Hinata’s head ducks shyly as Sasuke sits back down. “You...y-you didn’t have to do that…”

“Well, somebody have to make them stop. They can’t just do that, it’s not fair! You gotta stand up to mean people sometimes, Hinata. Otherwise they’ll walk all over you!”

“I know...m-my father says the same thing. I’m just...too s-scared…”

Watching her nitpick her fingers for a moment, Sasuke sighs. “...well, then I’ll just have to stand up for you.”

“...eh?!”

“Cuz we’re friends now,” he declares without warning. “And that’s what friends do.”

Slowly, Hinata’s expression brightens, posture straightening. After a blink, she flushes pink and nods. “M...mhm!”

“C’mon, let’s make another pyramid. Put the flag at the top of the big one!”

“O-okay!”

     Wow, this is the earliest I've posted in...a long time! Huzzah!      This prompt stumped me for a bit, I'll admit - not really much about pyramids to associate with SH, lol - but then this idea hit me! It turned out a little short, but...well, it's a pretty simple concept. Hopefully the cute made up for it!      That'll do it for today, tho! Thanks so much for reading n_n