#bento bab

[seiwas]

you're the reason (i got a weakness) | miya atsumu

wc: 2.9k

summary: it’s not that atsumu doesn't like you dressing up like this—in fact, he loves it. just not when you're fighting. not when he can't even call you "baby".

contains: post-timeskip atsumu, arguments and atsumu feeling really sorry, flashbacks, uses the nickname “baby” & “my love”, reader is described as “pretty” and wears heels, hurt/comfort.

a/n: atsumu isn’t a sucky boyfriend he just gets carried away sometimes. song inspo: can you blame me? - kehlani, lucky daye.

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: making yourself look good to feel good (your partner has something to say to you)

sponsored by @itskilau and @tasoyoru for the @ficsforgaza initiative. please check it out and support if you can!

“Bab—”

Atsumu lingers by your bathroom door, eyes drooping lower and sadder than they ever have. The steam makes the bleached strands of his hair cling to his forehead, his thick eyebrows now damp and flattened. 

You sigh, the big, heavy, and deep kind, shoulders dropping as you clasp the lock of your necklace.

He stares. 

That’s his job. You always ask him to do it the moment you step out of the shower. 

His lip trembles, eyes watery.

“Not now, Atsumu.”

You walk past him as you adjust the towel around your chest, your arm brushing against his. It’s a small thing, a sensation ingrained so deeply into the past two years you’ve been together, but he feels it like it’s the first time you ever touched him—and in a way, it is. Since yesterday, at least. 

The silence that trails after you is so deafeningly still, he thinks he can hear his heart breaking. 

“Atsumu,” your voice rings. 

Who the hell is “Atsumu”? 

He’s not supposed to be “Atsumu” to you. He’s “Tsum.” He’s “baby.” He’s “my love.”

Anything but “Atsumu.”

When you close the door of your walk-in closet to change, the metaphorical volleyball of hope floating right into the palm of his hand misses and drops straight to the floor. 

It started with volleyball, as all things with Atsumu do. 

You’d met him at the rise of his career, just a few years of him being pro. You were friends first, but if you ask anyone around Atsumu, they’d tell you you were never just a friend to him; he’d invited you to all his games and practice matches, spent a bit more time in the locker rooms before going out for dinner with you and the rest of the team. 

Osamu has the receipts of all the extra orders of onigiri Atsumu started adding to his regular weekly subscription since meeting you. 

Your first ‘date’ was Atsumu treading the very fine line between teaching you how to play volleyball and teaching himself self-control. Keeping an eye on the ball is hard enough, what more when he has to resist staring at you in very cute volleyball shorts too? 

As MSBY’s success skyrocketed, so did Atsumu’s—brand deals left and right, solo work trips during off seasons, commercials; the whole thing. When Atsumu wasn’t training, he was either traveling  or attending events and photoshoots. Always on-the-go. Moving. 

And he knew you understood, knew you knew him and his tendencies to overwork; knew him, and his habit of getting stuck inside his own world. You’d driven to late practices with bento boxes to share, and you’d packed his gym bag more than a few times, brought in extra clothes without him having to say a word.

You’ve managed his lifestyle better than anyone could.

But, Atsumu has a bad habit of promising more than he should, of serving white lies just as easily as he does volleyballs behind the service line. 

“Won’t take long, baby. Swear it,” he holds on to the wall by your door, slipping his feet inside his dress shoes. “Pick ya up at 6:00?” 

He’d winked at you then, kissed you between your eyebrows and nose before sneaking one more right at that spot underneath your ear.

What he’d give to be able to do that right now. 

“Okay,” you giggle, swatting his chest as you nod, “better hurry then, you might be late.” 

When Atsumu remembers that moment, the way you’d agreed so doubtlessly, he hates himself even more. You trusted him, have trusted him so wholeheartedly this entire time, so maybe you’re right—

“Would it hurt for you to just be honest?” 

—Atsumu has no excuse standing you up on the date he promised you weeks ago all because he lost track of time in some brand event, listening to a potential collaboration on volleyball shoes. Atsumu has no excuse agreeing to “some drinks” right after just to meet the executives of the company. 

There are meetings for those things, ones that can be scheduled and agreed upon. Ones that don’t compromise or add on to the already long list of missed dates with you. 

“I know you’re busy and I understand,” you sigh, turning the knob of the kitchen stove as you heat up the kettle, “you know I do.” 

He stands before you a quarter past 11:00 p.m., cologne long faded and the smell of alcohol spilled on his sleeve. The kitchen island stands like a net on the court, the ball being sent over to his side. 

“Baby, I—”

He passes it back.

You turn from the stove, face fresh and hair tied into a messy low bun as you look at him—how could he have ever stood this–you–up?

You take the ball, “Can I finish what I have to say first?” 

He nods. The kettle begins whizzing.

“I’m happy and so, so proud that you have all these opportunities,” you reach for the cupboard above head to grab a mug. The box of tea bags sits to your right, a mix of Lemon Balm and Chamomile that Atsumu swears keeps his anxieties at bay during the night. “But at least tell me if you can’t make it.” 

You tear open a tea packet, dangling it inside the mug. The kettle whistles, and he feels the onset of a spike. 

“Please don’t keep my hopes up every time.” 

You turn back towards the stove, turning the burner off as you pour in the steaming water inside the mug. 

“Baby, I swear, they just–they started talkin’ ‘bout these shoes, ‘n I thought t’was cool, ‘n the execs–they said the execs’d be there in the afterparty, and—” he breathes, “won’t happen next time, baby. ‘M so—” 

“Can I really believe you next time?”

You approach the kitchen island slowly, holding the piping hot mug carefully as you set it down in front of him. 

Atsumu stood you up on your date, and you still made him tea. 

You hold his stare for a brief moment before you walk away, sadness and disappointment all-in-one.

It is now that Atsumu knows, he’s fucked up.

The ball lands on his side of the court. 

And so, he’s spent this entire day trying to make it up to you—breakfast in the morning, right before training (which he absolutely tanked because all he could think about was how sad you looked the night before); flowers that he brought home after lunch time, just to find the apartment empty. It’s only after a full text thread and three missed calls to your phone that he finally gets a response.

“Nail appointment. Going out tonight,” is your reply (using speech-to-text too, he suspects, with how formal it sounds). 

Which is fine and dandy to him; you should do everything that makes you feel better after he practically took you for granted. It’s just—he hasn’t even said sorry yet, can’t even call you “baby”, can’t even touch you even though he really, really, really wants to. 

And now, with you closing the door on him while you’re changing—there’s nothing else he can do, really, but to walk away and give you some space. 

He shifts his feet, dragging them lightly against the wooden floors of your bedroom.

The moment he hears the door of your walk-in closet slide open, he hurriedly sits down on the edge of your bed, acting as if he wasn’t just anxiously pacing, waiting for you to come out. 

He feels like shit, if he’s being honest—like how he does when he misses a serve; if not, worse. 

You look good. Make-up done to only emphasize the features he loves (which is your entire face, really), and your outfit perfectly accentuating the dips and curves of your body. 

He follows you as you exit the room, tailing after you like a lost puppy. When you stop by your entryway, all he can do is watch as you bend down to put on the straps of your heels. And it sucks, because if you weren’t fighting, Atsumu would be right by your feet, crouched low so that you wouldn’t have to. 

It’s pathetic and a little helpless of him to just stand and stare in the middle of your living room. He should say something at least, but, you just look so good, and his throat feels dry; his heart all achy and stomach twisty. 

He doesn’t want to be away from you. 

And it’s not that he doesn’t like you going out looking like this—he loves it. But as soon as you step out the door with a soft “don’t wait up for me” mumbled from your glossed lips, Atsumu can only taste bitter regret at the fact that he wishes he were coming with you. 

He couldn’t even give you a goodbye kiss. 

The blond groans, pulling at his hair as he rests his elbows down on the kitchen counter. 

“Don’t wait up for me,” you said. As if he can even sleep without you around. 

.

.

.

The hours go by but they feel like days. Atsumu’s done every possible thing he can do in this apartment and it still hasn’t breached 11:00 p.m.. He’s cleaned down the kitchen (twice!) and arranged the food inside the fridge like those ‘stock up my fridge with me’ tiktoks he’s seen on Sakusa’s phone. The clothes on his side of the closet have been arranged by color and length, with all the ones in his dresser refolded, Marie Kondo style. He’s also pretty sure he’s scrubbed the bathroom down enough that you can probably see your reflection on the tiles of the damn thing. The laundry baskets for both your clothes are now empty, and he’s changed the bedsheets too and—

He’s still restless. The numbers on the clock taunt him, moving up agonizingly slowly. He can’t stop looking at the time, itching for you to come home. 

Atsumu is sorry, so so so incredibly so, because you’re right―he hasn’t been fair to you at all, and he needs you to know that he knows it, too. 

His eyes go over the clock again, only a minute having passed since the last time he checked it. 

Is this how you felt? Every time you waited for him to come home for a date he promised you? 

He squeezes his eyes; it hurts him just thinking about it. 

That’s it, he decides, grabbing his phone and wallet as he walks out the door. 

. 

.

.

Atsumu doesn’t check your location often (maybe only a few times). It’s not a trust thing, he swears; it’s just for when he wants to make sure you’re somewhere safe, or in a place he can reach you should you need him there. 

And, you clearly don’t need him right now, but, Atsumu is a little selfish, he admits. 

Sitting at home with all his regret feels worse than seeking you out to beg for your forgiveness, whether you want him to or not. 

He’s barely dressed for the venue as he steps inside the bar, a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt with those fashionable Birkenstock clogs on. A few people seem to recognize him, tilting their heads and murmuring among themselves as he walks through door, but none of them approach him, thankfully, except for a server asking if he needs assistance. 

His eyes scan the tables first, searching for any semblance of the outfit he’d seen you leave in earlier. The dim lights make it increasingly difficult for him to look for your properly as he squints his eyes some more, narrowing his vision to the people at the front bar this time. It’s after the fourth person he dismisses that he feels himself getting desperate, nearly turning towards the server beside him to ask for help.

Until he spots you—tucked in the corner of the front bar, sitting on the barstool with your legs crossed as you swirl around your drink. 

You look bored, and a little sad, chin resting in your hand as you lean your elbow on the table. 

He frowns, thanking the server on the side as he makes his way to you slowly. You barely notice him as you bring out your phone, tapping on the screen as you stare at it almost longingly―a photo of you and him some time ago after one of his games. He knows it well, can still remember that day so clearly: when he became a PR nightmare because he couldn’t help but announce your relationship by kissing you in front of everybody. 

It makes his chest hurt. 

Then, you swipe it open, and he’s close enough now to be able to catch a glimpse of what’s on your screen: your text thread with him, his last message being, “Did you make it safely?” 

(You pout, eyes pricking with tears. You didn’t reply to him then because you weren’t ready to fully talk to him yet, still upset and disappointed. 

It was easy to make yourself feel better by dressing up and stepping out of the apartment earlier, the promise of good drinks and good company awaiting your arrival; you couldn’t think about how you felt if you were busying yourself with others. But now that all of those feelings have died down and most of your friends have started chatting up other people they’ve found, it’s beginning to hit you all at once just how much you still prefer Atsumu’s company more than anything else.

Your fingers hover over your text box, typing and deleting. Typing and deleting.) 

He’s two stools away from you now, and he can barely contain it―

“Baby,” his voice trembles, unsteady. 

Recognition fills you as you turn to the sound, half-confused at whether you’re hearing things; whether―

(“Tsum,” you mutter, eyes catching a pair of familiar warm brown staring back at you. His bottom lip quivers, the embodiment of a dam starting to crack, vibrating.

Your emotions are a mess, your breath on hold as you feel tears welling up in your lashline too. You still feel upset, still a little sad, and a tiny bit disappointed, but what coats them all is a sense of relief because—)

―he’s here, standing in front of you like he just rolled out of the house with barely enough time to get dressed (which, you’re sure is exactly how things went), and you’re sliding off the bar stool in the prettiest outfit, looking like the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

“‘M so sorry,” he breathes out, stepping closer as he grabs your hand, “Don’t ever wanna make y’feel like that again.” His knee gives way as he starts sinking to the floor, “I won’t do that anymore―” 

“Tsum,” you try to call his attention.

He’ll beg for your forgiveness whether you like it or not. 

(The interaction is causing nearby tables to look, murmurs and whispers in your periphery as you catch vague sentences here and there. He still is a public figure, after all.) 

But Atsumu is unaware, looking at you and you alone as he pleads, “No, please hear me out first. I promise I’ll tell ‘em they can speak ‘ta―” 

“Tsum,” you squeeze his hand, whispering more firmly as you try to pull him up. 

“Baby, please. Gimme the chance ‘ta show ya that I―”

(You look around and notice even more eyes on the two of you, fond looks on their faces as they prepare their phones for what seems like something momentous. Then it hits you, how this looks―)

“Tsum, please stand up,” you tug at his hand strongly, urging him to stand. His eyebrows furrow as he obliges, only comprehending why when you explain it to him softly, “people were starting to think you were about to propose.” 

He pauses for a moment, a slight, “Oh,” as he ponders on it. “Well, if that’s what’ll prove it t’ya, then—” 

You roll your eyes, the corners of your lips curling slightly as you hit his shin with your foot and squeeze his hand again, “Don’t joke about things like that.” 

Well, it’s not the first time it’s crossed his mind, if he’s being honest. 

He sighs, sitting on the stool beside you as he rubs his thumb over your hand again, bringing it close to his lips to kiss softly. 

“‘M really sorry, baby,” he mumbles against your skin before moving your hand over his heart. “Don’t ever want ya feelin’ like this again.” 

“I know,” you give him a small smile, patting down some of the strands of his hair that stick out, “you didn’t have to come out here though, you know. I was about to go home soon, anyway.” 

“Can ya blame me? Seein’ ya off like that?” he grips your hand tighter as his voice softens. “Y’re too pretty to be sad,” he plays with your fingers, intertwining them with his.

You hit his shin again, feeling shy. You always do when Atsumu likes to sweet-talk you. 

“Do ya forgive me?” he asks after some time, as you take the last few sips of your drink. 

You hum, looking him in the eyes as you nod, pouting, “I don’t like being mad at you, you know.” He lights up, beaming, but you add on, “We still have to talk about it properly, though. Later, when we get back.” 

He nods in agreement, holding your hand as you slide off the barstool, guiding you out of the bar and into the car. 

. 

.

.

(You both do talk about it properly, and the next time Atsumu promises you a date, he blocks it out of all of his calendars, sending the date to his manager even, just to be extra sure.) 

a/n: this has been such a long time coming, i'm sorry to those who waited! i hope you enjoyed even though this simmered with me for way too long 😭 i love writing atsumu a little lovesick but i also think he deserves someone who is equally as in deep as he is 🥺

thank you notes: to 🍧 anon for helping me figure out "what would make you mad at atsumu?" and to @ceroseis and @mieiri for always listening to my shenanigans pre-writing!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[kenphobia]

EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE!

"Y'know, like a liar."

alt title. i have a degree in emotional baggage

summary. when you become friends with Ai for so long, the line blurs between camaraderie and romantic interest. ( 1.2k words / drabble / see end notes )

contents. gn!reader (they/them prms used), angst, hurt no comfort, canonical character death, not proofread. this will be turned into a series

on ao3 . on wattpad .

If anyone asked (Name) if they know who Ai Hoshino is, they'd instantly say no.

Lying had always been one of their many abilities, even so to the point they can keep their entire life under wraps. Not even their own boss, Strawberry Productions' president, know a whole lot about them other than what's said on their résumé.

Was it to protect themself? Was it to convince people to like them? They weren't sure anymore. They had kept up this act for as long as they remembered, and so long that they forgot what they were doing this for. It goes to show just how much effort (Name) had put into their lies, building excuses and reasons on top of each other, only for it to come crashing down because of another liar. And that liar happened to Ai Hoshino, the very idol herself.

At first glance, you wouldn't expect a star sensation like Ai becoming close friends with nearly faceless NPC. But life loves to deceive and bend standard societial 'rules'.

Almost every single day, Ai and (Name) are stuck by each other's metaphorical hips. The little winks Ai sends to the camera when she knows they're watching; the sudden boost of happiness and motivation sparkling in the girl's being whenever (Name) comes to her concerts, no matter how small and cramped the venue may be.

(Name) puts all their damn hardest into their friendship as well. After all, for Ai, they're willing to do anything just to make her smile. Even if it meant risking their job position to ensure Ai continues to shine brighter tham ever, smiling without a care of the world. Bentos after bentos, all packed and meticulously put together in a cutesy manner; Constant texts and phone calls, reminding Ai to take care of herself and stay always alert of her surroundings— They did everything to let Ai know that they consider her as a friend, not just a one-time co-worker.

They were friends, and they always will be no matter what happens. So when Ai called (Name) over to a rural little town, they didn't expect that the said idol was pregnant.

"Promise me, (Name). You won't tell this to anybody." The president, Ichigo, begged and grasped their shoulders. But (Name) quickly pushed his hands away, muttering curses underneath their breath.

"I promised like... What? fifteen times? I'm not some lousy mole rat that's going to snitch on their bestest friend." (Name) rolled their eyes, eyes glancing through the door's small window. Though it was frosted glass, they could clearly see Ai relaxing in her bed and caressing her belly.

"But still..." Ichigo bit his bottom lip. "Fine, I trust you. But you better not break this trust or else."

"I know, boss." (Name) merely mumbled. They turned away and held the door handle, readying themself to meet Ai's ever so starry gaze. "I know."

And when you stepped inside, Ai suddenly went into labor.

It's been years ever since Ai gave birth to the twins, Aquamarine and Ruby. And being Ai's best friend comes with a cost, and that was becoming her kids' babysitter. (Name) had little to no complaints about this, knowing full well how hard parenting is (I mean, look how they turned out—their mother completely gave up on them), but their co-babysitter, Miyako had some.

But it was nothing that couldn't be fix with a little bit of elbow gease and a lot of convincing. The four of them managed to pull it off fairly well and not a single peep about Ai's kids came out to the public.

Speaking of the kids...

"Aqua, Ruby. it's time to sleep." (Name) groaned for the seventh time, rubbing their numbing face. Though they called out for the blonde-haired babs, they wouldn't get away from the TV and continued to watching their dazzling mother perform on stage. "You know this is recorded and you can watch it tomorrow, right?"

Ruby whined. "But watching it live is so much better!! It feels like you're actually there!"

"Still though... Your mom's gonna be mad at me if she finds out that I've been letting you two stay up past your bedtime." (Name) shook your head.

"Just one more! And we promise we will sleep!" Ruby pleaded whilst Aqua didn't bother looking away from the screen, too mesmerized by the flashing colors on screen.

"... Fine. But you two better sleep or I swear—"

"We will!"

They, in fact, did not sleep after that. And rather Ai, it was Miyako scolding (Name) for letting the kids be awake at such hours. But at least, the pop sensation found the entire situation amusing rather than being angry at them.

Through it all, (Name) had been with Ai. Never as friends, but not quite like lovers either. They both know that it wouldn't end well for them, but there's a scratching hand in the back of their mind— a whisper, a dream of a time where they could kiss each other on the lips as free as they'd like without the public caring. But they knew it'll never happen.

The closest thing (Name) and Ai ever had to a romantic interaction was a simple brush of a hand; a hug that lasted far too long to be seen as platonic; the longing looks they gave each other when the other was sleeping. And it was never more than that.

And there will come a time where they'll regret about it all. A time where we'll regret keeping those feelings to themselves, no matter how confusing it is, the shame and sorrow of not being able to truly be honest to yourself will eat you up til your last, dying breath.

Ai sat there, clutching Aqua in her bloodied hands and feeling her pulse slipping from her grasps. "Aqua, Ruby... I love you." She whispered, loud enough for the twins to hear as she pressed her head on the door.

"Finally... I got to say it. I'm... I'm so happy." The idol cried out, forcing a smile to etch her features. The blood bled heavily and through her clothes, her eyes glossy and dazed from the tears and soreness.

Ai's smile flattered. If only she could say the same to (Name), If only they were here holding her dying body in their arms. But that would be too cruel of a wish, wouldn't it?

She chuckled, pushing herself up against the door with the little strength she had left, still cradling Aqua in her arms. As she said her final words, her body went limp. Her pulse slowly, painfully slipped away.

Nothing good happened after (Name) heard about Ai's death. With guilt, anger and remorse overwhelming their heart, they locked themself in their room for hours without end and buried themself under the blankets for a long time. All those years, they had grown accustomed to the blinding light of a computer screen and the smell of rot filling their room like Kudzu.

But they can't keep living like that forever, no, Miyako wouldn't let them. As well as the twins (although it's mostly Ruby would wants to help them, Aqua is still deep in murder mode). In the end, they pushed onwards for a better future. But they don't know if they could even call it a 'better future' when Ai isn't around anymore.

So if anyone asked (Name) if they knew who Ai Hoshino is, they'd instantly say no. Because if they did acknowledge whatever relationship they had with the late idol, they don't know if their heart could handle the emotional baggage all over again.

notes. after 8 days, i finally posted this onto tumblr!! this probs won't get as much as attention since the oshi no ko fandom here on tumblr is really really lowkey but to whoever picks this up, i hope you enjoyed this :]

i wrote this after finishimg the anime (i think they released a new episode on the streaming website im using), so it might not match with some manga lore. i really tried to protray Ai in the best way and hope that i didn't butcher up her character <//3

requests are always open and i'll be adding new fandoms to my list, oshi no ko included!

[zalimaaa]

Have you got any halal restaurant reccs in central london? Xx

i have spent the last 2 years spending stupid money on halal restaurants in central london i am so prepared for this ask 💕

burgers/chicken etc: siirgista bros (picadilly), coqfighters (soho, king’s cross), wingstop (shaftesbury avenue), burgeri (oxford street), stax diner (carnaby street)

brunch: dulce (whitechapel), drunch (mayfair), apple butter cafe (covent gardens)

east/south east asian: bento bab - kbbq (whitechapel), cocochan - dim sum (marylebone), pf changs (leicester square), ramo ramen (soho), rasa sayang - malaysian (soho), eat tokyo (soho)

lebanese/palestinian: hibas (tottenham court road), ranoush juice (edgware road) - loads of restaurants on edgware road are good

indian/south asian food: dishoom (shoreditch, covent garden’s, carnaby street), hankeys cafe (marble arch), madhus (mayfair)

other: the great chase - they do a halal sunday roast it’s INSANE (islington), coco lounge (tower bridge), goodman - steak (mayfair)

food halls/courts: arcade (tottenham court road), seven dials market (covent gardens), carnaby street food court, spitalfields market (liverpool street), oxford street market halls, camden market- there’s halal options in all of these places they’re super cute

[zmoonlightqueen]

Bento Bab

Hi you lovely readers, I know it has been quite a while. I was mentally and emotionally was going through a lot that my interest for writing disappeared for a while. I felt like I lost myself along with many other things that were once important to me. Everyday, I would wake up to fake a smile to the world and then come back to myself and be lost. This is life isn’t it? We all can’t be happy…

[flowerrose14]

🍜🧸🕯️

Noodle Gal & Bento Bears

Status: Closed!

Price Be £10 Or Offer Fanart Or Design Trades For This Bab! DM Me If You Be Interested! <3

[saetoru]

a day in the life of sakusa kiyoomi (featuring you)

6:30 AM:

“omi, nooo.”

“let go. i gotta.”

“no.”

“come on, don’t be a brat,” he groans.

“if you love me, you’ll stay.” sakusa sighs, pecking your forehead softly, hand gliding over your back as he feels you against him. it’s warm and it’s home, and he’s almost tempted to stay glued to you.

almost.

“i have to go jog, i’ll be back,” he mumbles, unlatching himself despite your hands attempting to claw their way back to him. “stop that, you’re—hey! don’t smack my ass, weirdo.”

and even though his cheeks are tainted red and he’s thoroughly embarrassed, he grins to himself when he walks to the bathroom and hears your giggles.

7:20 AM:

“omi, quit picking at the calluses on your hands.”

“‘m not,” he denies through a quiet mumble, hiding his hands under the table with a pout.

“you’re hopeless.”

the plate of breakfast placed before him makes his heart flutter. sakusa can’t stop the little chuckle he lets out when he sees the strawberries assembled into a little heart on the plate.

“and you’re a cliche sap,” he teases. and when he catches the spoon you throw at him, smirking when you groan at his athleticism, he almost considers skipping practice to stay home with you.

“hurry and eat, you’ll be late.”

“i’m never late.”

“i don’t care, shut up and eat,” you huff. his chair scoots closer to yours when you settle next to him with your own plate.

7:34 AM:

“babe, bab—oh my goodness—okay, that’s enough. i’ll be late—oh my god,” he groans through the onslaught of kisses you place on his face. he pretends he’s annoyed, but the blush and the wobble of his lips as he fights back a smile says otherwise.

he’s not fooling you—sakusa loves goodbye kisses.

“okay,” you peck his lips one last time. “there, i’m done. now you may go.” he shuffles a little and stares at the ground, pout on his face.

“ahem,” he clears his throat.

“you’ll be late, what are you—”

“you’re forgetting two things.”

“what?” he glares at you, and you glare back.

“first of all, you’re supposed to say i love you? what happened to that?” rolling your eyes, you purse your lips at him with a raised brow.

“kay, i love you. what else do you need?”

“thank you, i love you too.” his eyes meet the floor again. “you missed a spot,” he murmurs quietly. and even though you laugh at him, and he scowls and shoves you away for a bit, you place two big kisses to his moles, sending him off.

7:57 AM:

“omi, why’re ya smilin’ at yer phone like that?” sakusa’s grin instantly drops, and his usual scowl graces his features. atsumu tends to have that effect on him.

“ooh! are you talking to y/n? i love them! tell them i said hi!” bokuto’s voice is booming loud as ever—too loud for eight am on a monday morning for him.

“no, you don’t need to say hi—”

“tell them i said hi too!” he glares at a certain ginger instantly. he’s a bit annoyed that his last minute conversation with you before weight training is interrupted, but he doesn’t deny that deep down, he’s at home here too, surrounded by three loud mouths he can’t escape.

he shoots a quick message with a scowl on his face.

bokuto and hinata said hi

and atsumu, too he adds after the setter insists through whines.

and when he gets a tell them i said hi too! he can’t help but smile softly again—although it drops two seconds after when atsumu opens his mouth once more.

12:36 PM:

“my shoulder hurts.”

“you slacked off on your stretches again, didn’t you?” he doesn’t meet your eyes as he unpacks his bento.

“no.” he did. and he knows you know, but sakusa doesn’t like being scolded. especially not on his lunch break.

“yes you did, kiyoomi,” you say sternly. and he pouts, unhappy with your tone.

“don’t yell at me, i’m hungry, i don’t deserve this right now.” he pulls out the note you left him, scanning over the sweet message, noticing the little bunch of hearts on the bottom next to your signed name. he cracks a smile, turning the note to face you through the screen. “you’re a cliche sap part two.”

“and you’re an idiot who can’t take care of himself part two. quit picking at your calluses and quit slacking on your stretches. make sure you stretch longer before practice.” sakusa glares at you through his phone, but his heart does a little squeeze at how you take care of him.

“kay, whatever, you’re rude. now tell me about your day so far.” he’s kept very entertained throughout his lunch break as he hears your rambles about trivial things.

8:17 PM:

“i’m home,” sakusa calls out. silence. with a frown, he calls out “i said i’m home,” louder this time.

“oh my god, i’m coming, you’ll live if you’re not greeted in two seconds,” you huff as you emerge from the bathroom. but still, your hands cup his cheeks gently, pulling him into a searing kiss with a soft smile on your face.

“i could very well die,” he mumbles in between kisses, burying his head into your neck and pecking the skin there as your hands smooth through his curls. “missed you.”

“me too. dinner’s gonna be ready in a bit, go shower,” you whisper.

“no, not yet.”

“omi, we’ll cuddle after—”

“yeah, but i wanna cuddle now.” smiling to yourself, you rub over his shoulder, the one you know is sore, and he slacks more weight into you.

“hey,” you whisper.

“what?”

“i love you.”

“yeah, i love you too,” sakusa grins before tugging you along to your shared room, plopping himself on top of you in bed.

8:33 PM:

“and then i was spiking the ball, and i saw him just trip in the corner,” he snorts along with you, shaking his head as he recounts details from practice. “he thought no one noticed but i’m pretty sure everyone did.”

“i saw a kid trip at the grocery store today,” you chuckle. “i’m going to hell for laughing.” sakusa cracks a large grin, poking your cheek with his index finger.

“you’re going to hell anyway.”

“so are you.”

“that’s why we’re a match made in heaven. or hell. you know what? both.” his hand finds yours under the table, squeezing it gently as your thumb rubs over his knuckles. “oh yeah, i need a hair cut, remind me to make an appointment later this week.”

“no, omi! it’s not even that long,” you whine.

“yes it is, it gets in my eyes when i go to serve.”

“then wear clips. you look hot with longer hair,” you insist, making him scowl.

“no, that’s weird.” but he can’t help but sigh when your pout deepens, weak to his knees at the look. “fine, i’ll do it like next week or something instead,” he mutters. the smug grin on your face makes him roll his eyes, but the brightness in your eyes fills him up to the brim with warmth.

11:31 PM:

“can we go to bed now, love?” sakusa yawns, nudging you from his spot on your chest. you hum as you scroll through your phone.

“what are you? an old man? only grandpas head in for the night at eleven thirty.” he raises an eyebrow.

“you nap all day, you lazy brat. that’s why you’re never tired at night.”

“excuse me, i did a lot of work today, don’t even start. a few smacks of a ball shouldn’t get you this tired.” he pulls the blanket over his body, huffing as he gets comfortable on top of your body.

“fine, you stay up, i’ll sleep.”

“omi, don’t sleep on me, you’re heavy.”

“oh well,” he mumbles, already dozing off. you want to be mad, but he looks utterly beautiful in his sleep, cheek smooshed against your chest, face calm and at peace. he looks a few years younger, and you can’t help but smile to yourself, pushing back the hair from his face and kissing his moles.

“i guess your hair has gotten a bit longer,” you whisper. “goodnight, omi. i love you.” and sakusa, as if he knows, smiles a bit in his sleep, humming contentedly.

he considers today a pretty good day.

raise your hand if you remember this from my old blog ;)

[writtenbynightlock]

A/N: I accidentally posted my draft for this and i wasn’t able to retrieve your post 😭 so sorry if you won’t get notified 🥺 anyways thank you so much for the cute request! I hope you’ll find this ‼️

Note: Requests are open 💌

Masterlist

Surprising them in practice while being in a Secret Relationship

Ft: Miya Twins 

》 Miya Atsumu

Dating Miya Atsumu has been quite difficult for you due to his popularity, especially when it comes to the ladies. You still can’t believe the popular setter asked you out. His fangirls can be quite scary — which led to the decision that the two of you should lay low for awhile. Although Atsumu wanted to show you off that he has a beautiful girlfriend — but the thing he doesn’t want you to go through is to get hurt, thus, he respected your wishes.

You can’t help but go soft every time Atsumu craves for you attention in school. He would grab the opportunity to pull you into an empty hallway where he would give you hugs and kisses, the things he can’t do to you freely in school.

The day finally came when you just couldn’t hold the secret anymore. You don’t care if his fangirls know. You just want the restriction to stop and let the people around you know that Miya Atsumu is yours, with your jealousy getting the best of you when you saw one of his fangirls was getting a bit touchy with him yesterday. You’ve tolerated it for awhile now but you had enough --- in which you decided to surprise the golden haired setter during his practice, knowing there will be some girls watching their plays --- gushing over the hot volleyball players.

Letting out a breath as you stood in front of the gym doors, you then entered with a calming smile on your face — eyes scanning around to spot your boyfriend.

“Oy Atsumu, (Y/N)’s here” says Suna, pointing his head towards your direction as you stood right by the white border of the court. As the golden haired setter saw you, his eyes lit up and a smile made its way to his face as he made his way towards you.

“Bab- (Y/N)-chan! What brings you here?” asks as he wipes his sweat that was trickling down his face, with a towel hung around his neck. He was definitely surprised to see you at his practices. Usually you try to avoid the attention that Atsumu got from his fangirls — knowing you two wanted to lay low with your relationship.

“Oh I just came to stop by and tell you that I’ll be going home early today but before I leave, how’s practice going?”

“We might be dismissed later than usual. The inter-high spring tournament is coming up” says Atsumu as casual as possible, trying to act as if you two were just friends knowing that there were eyes everywhere.

Feeling the stares from his fangirls up on the stands, you reached for the towel around his neck and wiped his sweat for him lovingly.

“(Y/N)-chan?” Atsumu stutters at the sudden interaction, his face beet red, getting a bit concerned at your act that the two of you might get caught but before he could even step away, you leaned in and kissed his cheeks, a smile on your face as you stared into Atsumu’s eyes. Suddenly, you forgot what was your intention for coming here in the first place.

You continue to wipe Atsumu’s sweat as he was in a stuttering mess, confused by your bold actions.

“(Y/N)-chan, what are you doing? They’ll find out for sure” he whispers as he grabs your wrist.

“I don’t want it to be a secret anymore, ‘Tsumu. I want to date you freely. I don’t care about them.”

Atsumu felt like he was on cloud nine. It boosted his confidence and affection for you that what you just said made him feel like there is nothing to be ashamed of being in a relationship with him.

“Wow you just made me the happiest man in the world!” says Atsumu with a bright smile on his face and was about to hug you when you stopped him.

“As much as I want to hug you, you are all sweaty.”

“B-but-”

“I knew they were dating.”

“Oh please he just thinks he’s good at pretending.”

“‘Samu, my 500 yen.”

“You were betting on our relationship?!”

In the end, it turned out that Atsumu was the one being obvious that you two were in a relationship. The volleyball team decided to place bets on who would tell first — to which Suna won as he believed that Atsumu doesn’t have the balls to tell it first as he knows Atsumu is a total simp for you.

》 Miya Osamu

Being in a relationship with Miya Osamu has its perks. The highlight of it all was that you always have a happy tummy as he would often prepare you a bento box and put it in your locker for you to pick up every lunchtime. It was a gesture that you couldn’t help but adore from the man.

In showing how much you appreciate his efforts in making you happy, you decided to prepare one of his favourite snacks and bring it to him during practice. Miya Osamu loves nothing more than food. That’s a fact that’s never gonna change. The moments you love whenever Osamu would visit you at home is that he teaches you how to cook food — a bonding moment that the two of you cherish.

You were pretty close with the twins but you ended up falling for him. It was Osamu who decided to keep your relationship to be a secret for awhile — not ready to deal with the gossip that would go around the school and also the reaction from his twin brother.

Arriving outside the gym, you texted Osamu to meet you there. Hearing the gym doors opening, you saw Osamu descend from the gym — a small smile on his face as he acknowledges your presence. Luckily, there were no people passing by the gym, making it a bit of your alone time together.

“Hey, love. Whatcha’ got there?” asks Osamu as he eyes the plastic bag you’ve been holding.

“I made some of your favourite treats in case you get hungry after practice. You make me bento boxes and I feel like I don’t make much of an effort in appreciating you.”

You say shyly as you give him the food, looking away from him as you blushed madly. Osamu felt butterflies in his stomach. The thought of you cooking for him was enough to make his heart flutter. You suddenly felt his hand wrapp around your wrist and pull you towards him, with you landing on his chest. Osamu wraps an arm around your waist and cups your cheek, giving you a loving kiss. Giving into his loving touch, you kiss him back --- the two of you smiling. 

“Thank you, (Y/N)-chan. I love it.”

As soon as you heard some chatters getting nearer, you quickly pulled away from Osamu’s embrace.

“See ya later!” you say as you waved goodbye, your lips swollen and face red from the kiss you two shared. Osamu watches your fading figure, chuckling to how cute you were as you panicked. As he looks at the food you made for him, he can’t help but feel all giddy and happy inside. He felt so lucky to have a girlfriend like you. 

“’Samu! Practice is about to resume!”

“I’m coming!”

“That smells good! Can I have one?”

“Get your filthy hands off my food. It’s mine!”

[honoredbastard]

ෆ self indulgent and entilted

characters — bonten!rindou haitani  + *yakuro nanami (oc) .

content and warnings   — mentions of drugs ( yo sanzu ), clubbing, stalker mention, mention(s) of drugging, yelling, angst(?), swearing, and so on.

note  — sorry for the dark content hhhhh, it came with the idea of ackerman being a yakuza that hated bonten and wanted yakuro gone. it may actually be apart of the fic i’m outlining..... these men hold my heart and WILL NOT LET GO OF IT. also they just like dive into my brain 24/7. help i had a fit over what looked best for three hours- at this point i’mma probably make a lil sum’ for sanzu. i love this man and i can’t stop having him appear in my stories that involve bonten. like this guy is 24/7 in the back of my mind.

                                         *Yakuro Nanami.                                            he/they/bun! 

                  Now playing ayanami  — by satin

rindou woke up first to yakuro wearing his bunny ears and a bunny pajama set that he seemed to just slip on before marching into bed. it was cute, but there was still smudges of makeup on his face and the dark circles of terrible inconsistent sleep. rindou sighed, brushing away blonde parts of hair that yakuro was chewing on. 

“yakuro.” rindou lightly pushed yakuro’s shoulder, trying to wake the boy in his semi bunny work attire. “rindou? rindou....” yakuro groaned, his head searched for rindou’s lap or hand that he could lean into. just exist near, to feel his skin and be aware of his warmth, that he was alive and not dead. that he stayed the whole night. “morning doll.” rindou smiled quietly, brushing his fingers over the boy’s hair. 

there was a knock on the door, “come in” as if that was a full offer to entangle himself with the couple he busted through the door and made a running start to jump onto the couple. “HI!” “i don’t do the touching, i’ll sit and pour you your drink and be your personal bunny. please treat the bunny well and we will have no problems. if they bunny feels uncomfortable the bunny has full rights to leave and find a new client. if you understand these rules please enjoy your bunny.”

yakuro stated as if he was at work. it was grilled into his brain and always had to repeat it infront of new clients. working at a bunny suit club was not it, almost rolling over onto sanzu. “bad work day?” “bad work day.” rindou confirmed sanzu’s suspicions with three simple  words. “yaku..” “no.” “yakuuu.” sanzu scooted in between the two, poking yakuro’s cheeks aggressively. he seemed sober, thank god. 

rindou shrugged the mans presence off and trudged to the bathroom to wash and whatnot. “you have another shift, ran told me to wake you up. “that’s not my problem. tell my boss to go fuck himself with a dildo filled with nails.” sanzu’s eyes widened, that was aggressive. although at the same time sorta funny?

“he said he’d cut off your shift times and cut back on how much money you make plus tips.” sanzu repeated what ran had informed him of, with a quite frustrated appearance.  “THAT FUCKER WILL NOT!” raising up from his laying position, yakuro ran into the hallway stumbling here and there from improper pace. 

“i’d love to see him try i swear if he even tries reducing my pay i’ll quit the whole fucking job how about that? i never liked this bullshit bunny shit anyways, it’s annoying when the customers try to touch and then you get stalkers.” yaku was mumbling to hell and back from his bosses call, waving to ran who nodded. making himself a bento before heading off on a small mission.

yaku threw open the washroom door and started searching for his bunny suit attire. the club’s theme was rainbow today so he washed a deep red suit with a black add-on tail and clip on black ears (which were foldable too. yakuro always folds one ear.) when yakuro made it back to his room, sanzu was gone and rindou was crouching near the bottom drawer.

“whatcha lookin for?” yakuro asked curiously, sitting beside the man who made a mess beside him “looking for a red suit now, i’m trying to match with you subtly.” cute- that was the only thinking yaku could think of this man who is a part of a criminal organization/gang. who woulda thought?

“i think you might be better with either a red with black tie or a deeper red of a suit.” yakuro suggested, getting up from his sitting position, joints cracking. “or black would go well, after all i’m only wearing red heel, a red body suit, and red makeup. the rest is black!” yakuro called out to rindou who was still crouched as he exited the room. taking into account his suggestions, he went with a more black with red accents attire.

           ާlocation, bunny palace! ෆ             late night, 11pm.

“here in bunny palace we have many bunnies to suit your taste! male, female, and even those who do not define themselves! run and created by the ackermans.” bunny palace is under the hands of those with the ackerman name. mikasa, the current owner, is softer on us than many. although the music blaring is not something you can get used to.

“hello! i’m moonie! it’s so good to meet you, are you new here?” yakuro was tired, it was about 4 more hours until he shift ended and he was already hungry again. salad’s really don’t fill you up especially when you wolf them down. his feet ached and cried out each time he took another step, he wanted to lay down and use rindou as his personal body pillow.... rindou! ‘i hope he’s okay.’ he thought, placing himself beside the very important client his boss claimed. “oh i am! it’s nice too meet you moonie.”

“it’s so good to meet you too! we have a few rules here that our bunnies tell each new client: i’ll sit and pour you your drink and be your personal bunny. please treat the bunny well and we will have no problems. if they bunny feels uncomfortable the bunny has full rights to leave and find a new client. if you understand these rules please enjoy your bunny. please keep touching to a minimal. do not force your bunny drinks or food. respect your bunny. is that doable?” yakuro asked with big puppy eyes, a big smile, and high pitched voice. “of course!” the customer happily said, hand already on his thigh.

i am SO uncomfortable was all that yaku could think about, his eyes flicking between the customer and each place his gross hands laid upon. squeezing every-so often like it was a pleasuring act for yaku. before he removed the man’s hand, he restrained himself. drawing a large breath before responding to the customer. “i’m so sorry sir! shall i get you something to drink?” yaku pouted, “if you’d like, moonie!” i’m saved.

yakuro smiled and stood up, “why of course! i’ll be right back!” like a breath of relief, he rushed to the staff room. he waved to some girls, “not on stage today moonie?” one asked, a baby stripper new to the bunny palace club. “yeah! boss was all: ‘act cutesy, be close, allow touching this once. there are really important customers here today.’ like thanks for threatening my paycheck and then saying that!”

“oh my, that’s rough babe. ackerman is always like that, it’s like she has a stick up her ass.” one of the older strippers that had been with yakuro since he started chimed in, “you’re right!” yaku chuckled, leaning closer into his vanity mirror to adjust his lipstick and have a chance to message rindou. 

40 missed messages. “i’m so fucked.” “why’s that babe?” “i may have forgot to message rindou telling him ackerman added hours onto my shift.” the room grew tense, “that’s awful? read his messages.” sei suggested, “might cool him off if he’s angry.

“alright!” yaku sighed with a smile, opening the messages. to his surprise, rindou wasn’t angry but instead worried that a client had gotten too touchy and triggered yakuro. after all, ran did inform rindou about the bits and pieces that sanzu did not tell yaku. “whew, i’m good! i’m safe. he’s just worried....” sei and bab took a loud sigh and began laughing. “BUT I’M FUCKED.” “really? that’s great! now go out! your client must be waiting.” 

yup the girls took it that way. “i will! don’t worry don’t worry. i just hope sanzu doesn’t buy the whole club.” “he won’t now go!” sei pushed out yaku who glanced over at the client who finished the previous bottle. his nose was red and was slightly swaying back and forth.

walking up to the bar, yakuro ran into polaris. “polar!” “moonie.” “can you get something for my client? he seems to be a lightweight.” “sure, i’m sure he wouldn’t mind beer.” polar sat down the cup he was wiping back and forth to keep busy.

“the bar isn’t very busy huh?” “oh no, it’s just we got our best girls today dancing and the waitresses and working ten times harder. it works out for both of them and neither of them have to fight each other about unfair pay. tomorrow you’ll be our best so good luck.” polar smiled earnestly to add to the words of encouragement, sliding over the foaming beer over the black marbled counter. 

“thanks! i’ll need it.” turning with the drink in hand, yaku noticed the man’s disgruntled face. he looked as if the whole world was going to blow up and he was watching the countdown. ‘act cutesy, act cutesy, act cutesy.’ it was a constant mantra in his head before he sat down and opened his mouth.

“what could be wrong sir?” yaku felt like rolling his eyes into oblivion, he could care less. “oh it’s just something wrong with the gang.” “oh my, a yakuza?” boring, yaku fake gasped handing over the bear to the angered man. “yeah!” he said pridefully with a chuckle, gulping the drink down and slamming it down. “something about bonten this and that and one of our men died.”

now that’s interesting. yaku felt like walking out to just go see sanzu, it felt like everything was reminding yakuro of him. hell even the purple lights were. but alas he was stuck eyeing the entrance while the man babbled on and on about this whole yakuza shin-dig he was in. he decided to slip off his shoes because the waitresses’ assured the man that they would handle getting drinks.

it felt like hours, drink after drink the world became more hazy. yakuro grew a high tolerance because of his job but he seemed to be losing himself while the client seemed more than sober. “you.. slipped somethin, huh?” the client beside him flinched, clenching onto his bag. “w-what? are you sure you don’t have a low tolerance m-mr. moonie?” the man stammered, through gritted teeth yaku managed to huff out a ‘whatever’.

“miss. ackerman set you up? thought so, the bitch never liked me because i have a bonten member for a partner. guess i’m finally leaving this hellhole. send her my best regards, yeah?” he asked with a agitated tone. his words were laced with threats, raising slowly. “mr. moonie?” “i’m leaving, i want to leave. i have to go see rindou.” he dug the acrylic nails that were done just recently into his thigh. fuck the shoes. 

whatever was in the drink didn’t seem strong but it had yakuro in and out of conscience. the man who was once his client seemed nowhere to be found, leaving a stumbling yaku to himself. sei noticed this and dropped her waiters plate, running over to the bunny who was just about to fall. “MOONIE!” 

          ާlocation, the bonten loft.             early morning, 3am.

blue eyes fluttered open, fighting the urge to close once more. “they’re awake! rindou, they’re all good!” a familiar voice echoed throughout yakuro’s head. his body felt numb, in an attempt to speak he noticed his voice was gone. every one of his senses felt like they were being drowned under water. his eyesight was the only thing that was significantly normal.

though his contacts seemed to be taken off, leaving the blue and purple hues of yaku’s true eye colour roaming free. rindou’s footsteps were heavy and had a quick pace, the vibrations went through the bed. “yaku?” his usual docile purple eyes were filled with worry and anger mixed together, forever burning until yakuro got better.

all the man managed to do was a weak smile, his eyes blinked slowly while he stared at rindou. the two conversed, rindou’s agitation growing as his jaw clenched harder with every muffled word sanzu spoke. “i am very upset sanzu, yakuro was drugged. AGAIN!” “we can’t do anything but sit it out! we don’t even know who it was. rindou you need to calm down.” sanzu too was frustrated beyong belief.

the whole loft was filled with tension that was denser than a brick wall. everyone considered yakuro a part of bonten after two years. he even got a bonten tattoo per mikey’s request. it lays on his right shoulder which he covers up during his job with makeup despite his hatred, it was the only condition ackerman gave him before he could work at bunny palace. ackerman and bonten hated each other, seeing a bonten tattoo at the ackermans would start a war. 

“he’s quitting that job and working at our club. this is the last time i’ll EVER see him like this again.” this wasn’t the first time rindou raised his voice when he was angered by the way yakuro looked in this condition. unable to move, speak, only look plainly at the wall with a weak smile here and there.

it tore him apart from the inside out each time, it did every member living in the loft. finally after whatever happened between those two. sanzu left, rindou left as well but returned with water and began to cuddle the numb and quiet yakuro.

[bemuseing]

There’s a page dedicated for the bento box!

Also, babs

[i-write-abt-a-buncha-stuff]

How bout headcanons of a secret admirer? Like leaving gifts, food, cute notes? With Tokoyami, Todoroki, and,, mystery boi?

This is so cute! I'm so sorry this took so long!

Tokoyami

Confused bab.

First, it was a small red bracelet, with a note.

He wore the bracelet daily, and searched for reactions.

Too bad you were great at hiding yours.

Next, it was a small cake.

He waited till lunch and made a bit of a show of eating it.

Dark Shadow starts looking too.

Eventually, he starts just asking around.

Nobody's boutta snitch tho.

Finally, he ends up asking you.

"Y/N, do you know who could given me these?"

At this point he had about five bracelets and a box of uneaten bento.

You tell him it was you.

He's ecstatic.

Todoroki

Embarrassed.

Doesn't understand what it is at first.

He had to ask Izuku, and he was red as a tomato.

"You're sure that's what this is?"

"Absolutely!"

First, it was chocolates.

Then Soba.

Then a bracelet.

Each one had a small note.

He kept all the notes, and compared the handwriting to his classmates'.

He realized quick that it was you.

He wrote a little note out.

And left it in your bag.

"Meet me in front of the school. I wanna talk."

He's nervous af.

"Y/N! Hey, I was wanting to ask you..."

He can't speak.

"Did you give me this?"

He holds out his wrist.

"Oh, yeah I did."

Uh-

"So, do you wanna...go on a date?"

"Yeah."

He has an immovable smile that even his father couldn't wipe off his face.

Bakugo

"What the hell?"

First it was just a note.

Then, a handmade keychain.

He hooked it to his backpack.

And he didn't waste time in finding out who his secret admirer was.

"Y/N! You gave me this stuff, didn't you?"

"U-Uh, yes..?"

"Why didn't you just say something? We coulda skipped this whole 'who likes who' deal."

"S-Sorry.."

"Why are you sorry? Look, just, do you wanna go on a date?"

"Yes! Uh, I mean yes.."

___________________________________________

I really hope you like this!! I'm so sorry for slow uploads, I'm getting enrolled in a new school, plus work. I'll try to get stuff out faster! Requests are open!💗

[astro-tale]

I’ve been having a bit of art block recently, so once I was able to draw again I decided to draw a bunch of cute babs!

I really need to post more, so here they are uwu Living their best lives

Here Cookie, Coffee and Bento are a bit younger here than in the other pic I posted of them. They’re probably around 11-14 here! I haven’t drawn their smol designs in a while, so I thought it’d be nice! 💖

[tsaritsa]

30q

i was tagged by @b-griveros and @the-flame-and-hawks-eye!

rules: answer 30 questions and tag 10 people

# following: 150ish? i am the PICKIEST person i’m sorry ;;

# of followers: 800 or something??? 

average hours of sleep: 6-8 on a good day, maybe 4 if i’m bad and i stay up until the wee hours

lucky number: 3, 7, 11

instruments: more like what don’t i play lmao. piano, violin, guitar, voice and bassoon are my top 5 that i can play to a “i’m good enough to teach this” level

what are you wearing: shirt and shorts. it’s too hot rn

dream job: i was told i should work for vogue and honestly, being able to interview lots of different people and write about them does sound like an amazing gig! being prime minister would also be a cool job

dream trip: wherever lets me see mar the quickest <3 (ideally the us)

birthday: oct 12

height: 5′11 

gender/pronouns: she/her

other blogs: @rizsa is my fma-centric sideblog, and @santisimar is the writing blog @capthawkeye and i are currently setting up to publish our writing on (for future projects, may i feel will remain as is on mar’s blog bc i am Such A Slut for stuff matching)

star sign: libra

time: 9:23am

favourite bands: six60, muse, placebo

favourite artist: i’m really enjoying georgi kay rn! 

favourite tumblr artist: hmmmmmm i love lots uhhhh well obviously babs, @kinschi, @bebbies, @wishlaced off the top of my head!!!! there are so many i’m forgetting tho, i’m sorry ;;

song stuck in your head: young and beautiful, lana del rey

last movie you watched: the shape of water 

last show you watched: b99. if i ever don’t say b99 assume this is an imposter

why did you make your blog: tumblr hit peak ~fashionable trend when i was 13/14 and so i just made one and followed all my friends and we just reblogged like...cool bento boxes and photos from pinterest and stuff. i did a major spring clean of my blog so i think only stuff from 2012/2013 shows up now tho

what do you post: fic, a mess of things under my ‘aesthetic’ tag, haute couture, b99, occasionally fma stuff too (tho generally rizsa gets more exposure so i’ll reblog there primarily)

last thing you googled: something related to the new chapter of may i feel (it’s a spoiler :p)

ao3: u can find me under bergamots on there and ffn

do you ever get asks: occasionally! i’m a pretty quiet blog tho...

how did you get the idea for your url: me and the romanov’s go wayyyyy back. i prefer tsarina aesthetically, but tsaritsa does the job too haha

favourite food: fried chicken, freshly toasted crumpets with butter

last book you read: an academic reading about indigeneity

top 3 fictional universes: hagaren, harry potter, whatever kurt seyit ve sura is (i need me a man who will be as swoon-worthy as seyit)

tagging some new followers!! @girl-of-your-memes, @umidontknowwhattoput, @luuscris, @illogicalife, @fifthhorsman-of-john, and @fuki-yuki!

[peachy-kun]

GX AU Judai Backstory Drabble, Part 1 (aka I Hate Titles)

PG, focused on Judai Yuki right before entering Duel Academia, contains one (1) OC father

hhhhhhhakjsldkfjl so over the years I’ve dabbled in writing random things but never posted anything, anywhere, ever because a) I never finish anything and b) who’d want to read that garbage anyway h a hA

But I’ve been poking at this one for a while now, and I finally just figured why the hell not. It’s a small thing about Judai’s backstory, which is based on the GX AU that @jenasu and I are currently writing/getting destroyed by. It’s a decidedly different backstory for him, but it ties into major AU plot points etc etc. This is only the first half of it, hopefully I’ll finish the other half.........

Some small things to note:

Judai already has had Winged Kuriboh as a spirit friend since he was a babs

This is actually true of Japan, but there are high school entry exams, usually on the same day, and as such most students cram and study to get into one high school of their choice, it’s difficult to try and apply for multiple high schools. But high school isn’t actually mandatory.

I hope this is at least somewhat enjoyable, and please let me know if I should add any tags to this!

                                                        ======

Judai clutched the large envelope in his hands with nervous excitement as he quickly walked down the sidewalk back home. He could still barely believe he had the packet at all; silently, he thanked his teacher for having listened to his wishes and acquired it for him. Glancing down, his eyes sparkled as he looked at the emblem printed on the front, comprising of a large, stylized “DA” - Duel Academia.

His mind was already made up. The exams were only a few weeks away, but Judai was sure he’d manage. The only thing twisting a knot in his insides at the moment, however, was bringing it up to his dad…

“Kuri…?”

Judai looked over to see Winged Kuriboh hovering beside him, concern in his large eyes. He gave him a small, reassuring grin.

“Don’t worry, Aibou! I’m fine!” He could tell his best friend was hardly convinced. When they were so closely connected, it was almost impossible to hide how he was really feeling. Giving a small nuzzle, Winged Kuriboh perched himself lightly on Judai’s shoulder. He wouldn’t lie; it was comforting.

Adjusting his other hand’s grip on the bag of bento he bought for tonight’s dinner, Judai continued down the street until he came to a decently-sized apartment building. He shuffled up the steps, fumbling with his keys slightly, before unlocking one of the doors and entering.

The living room was quiet, with the light of the setting sun starting to filter in through the parted curtains. Judai carefully placed the contents of his bag in the fridge, before unceremoniously plopping himself onto the couch. Eagerly yet carefully, he opened the envelope, and poured over the papers inside. It would be a little while longer until his dad came home. He wanted to be ready.

                                                    ======

"So...you spoke with the school counselor today about high school options, right...?"

The question from Keisuke abruptly cut through the usual silence at the dining table. Judai knew he would bring the subject up, but the suspense had been eating away at his stomach for a while now.

"...Yeah." He hoped his dad didn't catch any of the nerves he tried to stamp out of his response.

Keisuke continued to skim the newspaper he held in one hand for a moment, before finally placing it down on the table and turning his gaze towards Judai with a vague smile.

"I know it seems daunting, but the high school I went to weighs heavily in your exam's favor. As long as you do well there, they won't mind so much about your grades." He'd lost count of how many times his dad tried to reassure him this way. Judai was sure that in his mind, the future was obvious. He'd attend the same high school, then the same university as himself, before ending up at the same company. It was so clear cut for him, Judai wasn't sure if he'd even considered any other possibility.

"I'm sure your teacher can recommend a good cram school to attend." Keisuke continued, though he had already returned to his newspaper. "It'll be stressful for a few months, but I'm sure you'll be fine."

"...Actually, Dad...?" Judai said hesitantly. He gripped his hand under the table tightly, willing his voice to stay even. "...There's another high school I wanna try the exam for."

There was a small pause, though it felt like a suffocating eon. His father then turned a raised eyebrow at him.

"Another high school...?" He couldn't read the expression, but Judai was sure he was already skeptical.

"Y-Yeah...!" He tried to push as much assertiveness into his tone as he could muster. "It's a private school, but if I do well on the exams, I can get a scholarship, so it won't be expensive...!"

"...What's the name of this place?"

Mentally, Judai took a deep breath before responding. "Duel Academia-"

“Absolutely not.” The sudden hard-edged response felt like a bucket of ice water in Judai’s face. Keisuke’s expression had changed to a look of quiet disapproval that was all too familiar at this point. “Judai, I thought we had already discussed this matter.”

“I-If you’re worried about me passing, the exams won’t overlap…!” Even if he knew that wasn’t the reason for his dad’s objection, Judai felt compelled to continue, in the vague hope that the argument he had rehearsed in his mind would move him in some way. “I can still take the other exam if I don’t-”

“You’re not going to any school associated with that game…!” There was a note of finality within Keisuke’s slightly raised voice. “You won’t make a future for yourself at such a place!”

Judai could feel his ears heat up, his desperation instantly changing to a frustrated defiance. He dug his nails into his leg, in a vain attempt to keep himself calm.

“…Mom wouldn’t say that…” The words spilled out before he could stop himself. He was never good at hiding his emotions either way. But despite the minefield Judai knew he just stepped in, he couldn’t back down. Not on this.

“Judai…!!” Anger rumbled underneath his father’s voice, as he leveled Judai with a steely glare. Stopping an involuntary flinch, he gritted his teeth, finally looking up to meet it with a glare of his own.

“You could at least give me the chance! You don’t even try to ask me what I wanna do with my own life!!” He continued. “I know I can be a great Duelist like Mom!!"

With some force, Keisuke tossed the paper in his hand onto the table.

"And what did that do for her? Nothing!!" Judai could hear the bitter edge seep into his father's every word. "I won't have you falling into the same trap as Sayori did! You're not taking that exam, and I won't hear otherwise...!"

Judai looked away, desperately trying to stop his own anger from breaking out. He couldn't say he didn't expect this. He had hoped that for once, however, his dad would stop and actually listen to him. Instead of acting like his mom was gone forever. Instead of blaming everything that made her, that made Judai who they were, for why she wasn't here now.

"...I can take any exam I want." The shake of emotion in his tone was clear even to himself. "And if I pass, I'm gonna go. I've got a right to make my own decisions...!"

A prickling tension hung in the air in the ensuing short silence.

"...Then," Keisuke started with a quiet fury, "then since it seems you believe you're old enough to be responsible for yourself, I assume you won't be needing any of my help paying for the tuition if you decide to go to that school."

Judai snapped his head back to stare at his father, speechless. While Duel Academia wasn't the worst by far compared to some other private schools, it was still a prestigious academy founded by Seto Kaiba, and the tuition reflected that accordingly. Unless he did exceptionally well during the entrance exam and won their best scholarship, there was no possible way he could afford it.

"T-That's not..." Judai stammered weakly. He felt as if the floor was giving out from under him.

"Fair?" The bitter bite had returned more forcefully in Keisuke's tone. "How is it fair then, that I would have to sink money into something that would merely put you in a dead-end?! As long as you're living in this house and under my care, Judai, I expect you to listen to me and the rules that I've set!"

Picking up the slightly crumpled newspaper, Keisuke leveled him with one last pointed look. "This is the end of this discussion. You had better make sure you have plans for a cram school soon."

Despite himself, Judai could feel a stinging sensation well up in the corner of his eyes. With a light clatter, he abruptly stood from his chair.

"...I'm done..." he barely managed to mumble out, before hastily leaving the table, and his unfinished dinner, behind. He couldn't care less about his dad calling out to his retreating back. Face burning up, Judai simply wanted to be out of the room before he lost his composure completely.

The hot tears had already started rolling down his cheeks by the time he collapsed onto his bed. Trying to muffle a sob, he buried himself into his pillow, but it did little good to stem the flow. His father's ultimatum felt like a crushing weight on his heart.

How had things gotten to this point...? Judai remembered a time when his Dad supported his Mom entering tournaments, even took him to see them occasionally. He couldn't understand - why was it so wrong now for him to look up to her as a Duelist, to want to follow in her footsteps?  It was as if his Dad had left her for dead, and wanted to forget anything to do with her completely. The thought made his blood boil.

Slowly, his sobs quieted, until a heavy silence fell in his dark room. Judai rolled onto his back, in order to stare blankly up at the ceiling.

"Kuri kuri..." A sad voice drifted down from the darkness, before he felt soft fur nestle into the side of his face. Wrapping his arms gently around Winged Kuriboh, Judai pulled his friend as close as he could to himself.

"...I can't give up, Aibou..." He finally whispered, voice still heavy with emotion. "I'll become a great Duelist...and find Mom out there somewhere...!"

A long silence passed, before Judai finally sat up, and turned on his desk lamp. Once more, he looked over the papers he had acquired earlier that day with an even greater focus.

He wouldn't let go of this chance. If there was any possible way for him to enter Duel Academia, he was going to take it, no matter what his dad said...!

[sarcasm-muses]

"Yes yes, I know, dear. I promise I will take care of myself more."

Moment like this, he wished he remembers Izuna has quite a temper whenever he worries too much, like right now. Honestly, although Tobirama is strong, he doesn't want to fight or face Izuna's wrath at all, sighed to himself, he quickly finished his bento box, didn't forget to feed Izuna few pieces here and there.

"I'm all good now. We can go home and I promise to sleep with you until morning, no sneaking away for work."

He held his hands up and tried to act all good toward Izuna, hoped this will help ease his lover's wrath. God, please have mercy on him, he swore he won't acts like a workaholic again (he hoped so).

@precious-uchiha-bab

@precious-uchiha-bab

If Tobirama knew what is in Izuna’s mind right now, no doubt he will protest with everything he has, it isn’t his fault that he is skipping meals, the paperwork sudden double up and he has too many things to deal with. Even if the man created two clones to help him, he still has to work overtime, this should be enough to prove that work indeed have sudden become more. Tobirama could understand it, the chunnin exam is coming near and a few minor village have show sign that they aren’t satisfy with how the world is divide into. Only five big village? What about them then? Human’s greed, no matter what time it is, always able to give him a headache. Sighed and shook his head, the Nidaime placed down the scrolls and cancelled his jutsu when he heard Izuna’s voice.

“Come in, Izuna.” 

His voice sound rather tired, but it wasn’t like Tobirama could hide it, for three straight days, the Nidaime only has around 4 hours of sleep per day and he barely eats anything, only when his students forced him did the man eat. Most of time he just sits there, drinks his coffee and tries to deal with all the problem from every direction. He needed to show the world that without Hashirama, Konoha still stand strong. 

“It’s late…” 

Tobirama mused as he glanced at the clock, recognized that he just skip dinner, again. Well… Izuna isn’t going to happy about this and he hopes the Uchiha won’t get too angry at him. 

[graviticdeeds]

Lil Bento bab knows when it’s bed time, what a good boy. (Except when he’s tearing through the flat and getting into places he shouldn’t because the flatmate is too lazy to sort out his desk properly, so it’s challenge accepted from Benny to get up there...)

[putriwahyuu]

Flashback

Aku menulis ini tepat di tahun 2020, di halaman 1 bab 1. Sebelum itu aku akan ingin menceritakan banyak luka yang dimulai dari 2018 bab 8, halaman 27. Aku ingat betul kejadian tanggal itu, dimana aku ditinggalkan peganganku. Rasaku dibawa lari, tak dikembalikan. Tapi yang aku tau dia pernah menyeka air mataku, dan mengucap aku pulang kerumah bukan untuk berlari darimu. Setiap kali waktu, aku menenangkan diriku. Aku berucap, ia hanya pulang kerumah tidak meninggalkanmu. Tetap halaman ke 27, ia berpamit dan pagi itu aku membantunya bersiap. Membelikannya 2 bungkus bento dan mengantarkannya ke bandara, aku benar-benar tidak bisa menyembunyikan raut sedihku. Sedih sekali rasanya. Sesampai dibandara, ia memintaku pulang dan aku akan masuk. Aku berkata tidak, aku ingin melihatmu masuk. Aku berusaha tidak menangis, tapi aku gagal. ia memelukku lagi dan berkata untuk kedua kalinya. Aku pulang sebentar saja, aku akan masuk dan kamu pulanglah. Aku ingin melihatmu pulang dengan baik, terima kasih telah mengantar. Aku hanya pasrah, karena aku juga tidak bisa menahan air mataku. Aku tidak benar-benar kuat saat itu, aku memeluknya sekali lagi dan melambaikan tangan. Aku berjalan dengan air mata yang terus melewati pipi, aku berjalan dengan kencang tanpa lagi menoleh kebelakang. Tak hentinya aku menyeka air mataku. Tiba diparkiran aku segera memakai helmku dan melewati pintu keluar, motorku kukencangkan dank u menangis sekencang-kencangnya. Tak lama hujan turun, membasahi aku. Semua terjadi begitu saja tanpa bisa aku hentikan, aku benar-benar terluka. Sesampainya aku dirumah kupasang bajunya di boneka panda besarku. Ku peluk ia tanpa henti membasahi pipi. Oya bajuku masih basah oleh hujan dan aku tertidur.

Pintu rumahku diketuk. Teman kuliah membangunkan dari tidurku. Aku mengganti bajuku tanpa mandi dan berangkat kuliah. Semuanya tidak lagi berjalan normal, semuanya telah berbeda. Setiap malam yang aku tadinya menangis hanya karena menonton drama atau iklan sedih Thailand. Kini aku menangis karena ia pulang, ya hanya pulang kerumah katanya. Suasana dikelas tak benar-benar di hiraukan. Lamunan dan ia merajai pikiranku. Kacau sekali rasanya. Aku memperjuangkan rasaku sendirian, sampai pada akhirnya aku benar-benar di campakkan. Aku tidak ingat, aku belajar melukai diri sendiri dari mana. Yang pasti, tanganku ku lukai dengan pecahan kaca yang ada. Tidak ada kalimat atau hal yang menenangkan kecuali itu. Aku senang ada luka lain, tidak dihati. Tapi sejujurnya luka berdarah itu di hati bukan di tangan. Goresan itu menimbulkan tanya untuk mereka, tetapi aku hanya berbohong. Lemah sekali, pikir mereka. Semua memang tidak bisa di sangkal, lemah. Mendewasakan diri, atau apalah itu yang pasti itu sulit diterima perasaanku. Timbul berbagai pertanyaan, kenapa aku. Kenapa selalu seprti ini. Aku kenapa, kenapa aku seperti ini. aku tidak pernah benar-benar mencintai diriku sendiri semenjak itu.

Bab ke 12 dimulai, halaman 6 menjadi halaman penuh kasih. Setiap buku baru datang, halaman ke 6 bab 12 menjadi halaman paling mujarab menyembuhkan luka di bab sebelumnya. Apalagi, ia datang kembali setelah pergi. Meski hanya melalui video bergerak, bab 12ku menjadi lengkap. Bentengku roboh hanya dengan tiupan angin darimu. Aku paling jago menghancurkan bentengku sendiri. Hanya untuk kembali membukakan pintu dan menyambutmu. Bagaimana? Aku mudah sekali kau dapatkan bukan? Dan begitu mudah pula kau lepaskan aku. Aku tidak pandai, untuk mencampakkan kehadiranmu. Meskipun kehadiranmu, tidak benar menyenangkan aku. Menyenangkan dan melukai, oh tidak aku yang pandai merubah luka yang kau berikan menjadi senang hanya karena sekata obrolanmu. Aku lemah. Aku mencintaimu kembali.