#miya week
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miyaweeks · 11 months ago
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It's time for #MiyaWeek2024! 🐱🛹
Dates: February 16 - 22
Miya's Birthday: Feb 22nd 🥳
🔸 18+
🔸 SFW & NSFW
🔸 All fanworks welcome!
🔸 Include CWs and tag your works 🔥
🔸 Tag @miyaweeks for 🔁
🔸 More event info on our Carrd!
Miya Week 2024 Prompts
Day 1 • 2.16
secrets
streaming
Miya's firsts
🔥 size difference
Day 2 • 2.17
sharing clothes
competition
fanservice
🔥 pet play
Day 3 • 2.18
heroes & slimes
secret crush
mentorship
🔥 breeding
Day 4 • 2.19
FREE DAY!!
Day 5 • 2.20
teasing
feral / wild
confessions
🔥 discipline
Day 6 • 2.21
jealousy
blooming
hurt / injury
🔥 roleplay
Day 7 • 2.22 (Miya's Birthday!) 🥳🎉
gifts
wishes
kitten
🔥 vanilla
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theaonlax · 8 months ago
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so this came to my head :)))
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brotato-chibs · 6 months ago
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OSAKITA
This is it- this is the main ship I will d!e on
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junosmindpalace · 1 year ago
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SHE WANTS YOU!
🎧 you’re proud to be my man, and i won’t let you go!
synopsis: they just can't see what a particular fangirl of theirs is trying to do...with the msby 4!
content: litte bits of insecure reader and little bit of clueless msby. but fears are put to rest. fluffy. casual intimacy. they are Smitten & loyal bfs
total wc: 4k
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BOKUTO: Kotaro has always been good at handling difficult people. It just wasn’t in his nature to think the worst of them, and he handles even intentional malice by interpreting it as genuine questions or comments that needed a response to. And so he’d reflect and answer honestly how he felt, and that was often times enough to shut those kinds of people down. 
Even the seemingly most malicious kinds of people Bokuto eagerly approached in a friendly manner and treated as a close friend. That, of course, included his fans. 
He's always been one to enjoy basking in the limelight, being praised for his strengths and acknowledged for his easy going attitude. It was a great bolster to his self-esteem; he loved the people, and boy did they love him. 
It’s because of Kotaro’s easy going attitude that made forming a relationship with him very easy. 
Boundaries can become more easily crossed, but Kotaro doesn’t have very many, which only encourages fans to attempt to see just how far they can tread over the line before they’re pushed back on the other side of it. 
Of course, there was nothing wrong with fan interactions, especially on your end; your heart swelled when you saw the ways his fans supported him and how much joy your boyfriend took in connecting with them. Their support meant just as much as his love for the sport he plays.
But there’s one fan you just can’t help but get a bad feeling from.
It’s more instinctive than anything, but the fact that you’re a little too familiar with her doesn’t sit right with you. She's somehow managed to catch Bokuto at all his events, and talk with him outside of matches before he's due to depart from the arena. She's always eager to catch him, even at the very last second, but since it’s Bokuto, he has no qualms, and happily stays to chat for a couple of minutes before the coach insists the team needs to get a move on. 
And then she’d start to slowly up the physical touch, from brushing her hand against his skin while reaching for something for him to sign, to fully grasping his arm as she laughs at something he said. 
You knew he wouldn’t believe you at first when you brought up your concerns. 
“Really? I mean, I don't blame her for coming back for more; I'm awesome! But she’s only a fan!”
This one particular person you had a bad feeling about was not exempted from your boyfriend's goodwill, despite over time becoming more obvious with her intentions. Eventually, she began treating him like an old friend with some underlying feelings. 
“I don't think she has bad intentions.” he’d answer honestly in response to your concern. Of course, Bokuto doesn’t want to believe that this nice fan of his has an underlying agenda with her eager conversations, but he can at least see that the situation has been stressing you out with each reluctant drop of the subject, lip jutted out as if not fully soothed by his reassurance. 
She’s there in the crowd again, and you know that after the game, no matter the outcome, she’ll go looking for your boyfriend as he sticks around for a couple of interviews to conclude the day, and you dread it. The game goes smoothly, with Kotaro in perfect form, something you know he wasn’t able to achieve very often back in his high school days, and you can’t help but marvel sometimes at the amount of progress he’s made.
When the Jackals eventually file out of the gym after their triumphant win, you make a beeline for each other. He quickly runs to meet you halfway in one of the halls, caught up in his adrenaline high from the game as he wraps his arms around your waist and spins you off the ground. He’s sweaty, and how he still has energy is beyond you, but you don’t care and immediately reciprocate the affection, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“Did you see me? Did you see how amazing I was out there?” he badgers excitedly as he puts you down, and you nod with a grin. 
“You did so good, Ko! That spike in the final set was—“ 
“Kotaro! You were incredible!”
Your grip on his forearms immediately tighten, and the two of you both look over your shoulder to see her jogging up to the two of you with a breathless laugh. 
“As always, of course. I knew you’d be able to power through their defense!” 
“Well, not always.” Bokuto let’s out a little laugh and peeks from the corner of his eye at your tense smile. She seems to take notice as well, and hers only widens. 
“Give yourself more credit,” she scoffs playfully. “I noticed even in this game that you—“ 
“I appreciate the kind words, but I can’t stay to chat.” he smiles at her, wide and genuine, and you look down in surprise when you feel his arm wrap around you, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he brings you to his side. 
“My partner here is treating me to a celebratory meal!” 
The two of you both blink in surprise at his words. Typically no matter how crowded his schedule, he always spares a couple of minutes to chat. 
“Oh, well… I suggest this one sushi place nearby. I can pull up the location!”
“That's alright! Y/N already promised to take me to one of my favorite places. It was nice seeing you again!”
And with that, he takes your hand and drags you off with a bounce in his step and a smile still plastered on his face.
There isn’t a single indication that any of his words were fake or had a malicious undertone meant to humiliate her. Only that he was vocal in that he prioritized you over her. 
You gave him a teasing smile. “So, when did I say I'd be treating you?” 
“You mean you won’t?!” he whips his head toward you with a heartbroken expression, as if having fully expected that you’d reward him for his incredible performance. 
“No, no, of course I will. Anything you want.” you grinned, bumping his shoulder as his grip on your hand tightened and his smile widened, and he continued to boast about how great his plays were. 
He later posts a message of thanks to his fans for all the support he received for the match on his socials with a photo of the two of you enjoying your meals. You can now be confident that no other fan will be testing their luck with his boundaries any time soon.
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MIYA: Atsumu is solely focused on himself. On his plays. On sharpening his skill. On having his fun.
And, of course, on you. 
Atsumu, as much as it has been stereotyped for him, is not one to look for validation in his fans. Whether they’re a fangirl or an old man in the stands who's watched the game all his life, he does not care for their criticisms nor their compliments. The only people he at all considers feedback from is his coach, his brother, and you. That doesn’t mean he’s immune to what they say about each one of his plays, however. He gets down when the commentators call out a bad play, and pumped when the stadium roars with cheers for him. 
But because of this sort of suave personality of his, people fit him into the mould of a playboy. And because he has such high expectations of the people around him, people have assumed that he had high expectations of his romantic partners as well.
Someone rich, someone famous, someone absolutely drop dead gorgeous. That was who the majority of Atsumu's fans assume is his criteria for a partner. And so, when he’s spotted out with a celebrity he’s been working closely with for a modeling partnership, one that happens to exceed all of those expectations, it’s no surprise that dating rumors regarding the two of them being in secret kahoots start to circulate among not only their individual fanbases, but the sports community as well. 
Multiple comments claiming the encounters to be a “soft launch” made your eye twitch as you encountered them under related posts. You couldn’t help but sometimes find yourself laughing at those who insist that it’s obvious they’re in love with one another. 
Perhaps the celebrity he’s been hanging with was in love with him, as she hasn’t been the least bit shameless in expressing her admiration and adoration for your boyfriend, but Atsumu had not the slightest bit of romantic interest for her. You knew through his exasperated rants about her being difficult and obnoxious. But, of course, nobody else knew. 
Still, he works with her for quite a bit of time. And though you know Atsumu isn’t the type to be disloyal, certainly not toward you, you can’t help but let the rumors get to your head sometimes, and in turn an insecurity manifests in the form of an ache in your chest or a lump in your throat. It doesn't help the fact that this celebrity is constantly posting her time with him online, and “playfully” validating comments that ship the two of them together. 
He tells you to get off of social media when you get down about the situation. It just isn’t worth the mental torture; and besides, their relationship is strictly professional. It's the only reason why she’s so friendly. For a man who loves to bask in whatever praise he’s given, he sure seems oblivious to the very obvious clues she’s been dropping him. He has to believe it’s strictly the guise of accomplishing successful business. 
Still, it’s not like you make a conscious decision to go against his words and subject yourself to further irritation and insecurity. You couldn’t help yourself; you knew very well that, compared to her, you were a nobody. You couldn’t compete with everything she had. 
You slowly started to agree with the comments who argued that they should get together; they do look pretty good together, they are extremely compatible. And above all else, she could probably support him way better than you ever could. You swear to yourself you don’t feel jealous, bitter, petty--not in the slightest.
But the sour expression Atsumu comments on one evening while the two of you lounge on your couch as you yet again scroll through comments claiming your boyfriend would suit someone not like you has you reflecting otherwise. 
“What’s with the look? Reading the news?”
“Mm.” Is your vague reply, eyes not peeling away from the screen in front of you. Atsumu’s curiosity grows, and he raises an eyebrow. 
“What’s it say?” 
A moment of silence between the two of you as you continue scrolling. When you finally process the question and silence, you inhale sharply and finally look up at him, closing your phone and setting it on the coffee table beside you. “No, it’s nothing. Just something online.” 
“Ugh. Don’t tell me you’ve been scrolling through those comments again.”
You shoot him a glare at his insensitivity, but also at how quickly he was to figure it out. The sour look on your face has become synonymous with that topic that Atsumu could easily recognize as the source of your frustration.
“Fine. I won’t tell you.”
He groans as he collapses on top of you, closing his eyes and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You grunt in pain at the sudden weight, and still annoyed from his previous comment, you try to pry his face away, which only makes Atsumu stubbornly latch even harder onto you. “Atsumu!”
“I told you, those people have no idea what they’re talking about. She’s insufferable.”
“I know.”
It’s a statement, but the sad tone in which you say it makes Atsumu’s heart sink. He opens his eyes and tilts his head to look up at you, chin digging into the side of your arm. “You’re way prettier.”
You roll your eyes. “Thanks.” 
“And your place is nicer. And your food is tastier. And your humor is better than hers.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh as you feel your heart lighten a little at his attempts at picking you up, and Atsumu feels his own growing lighter, too. “Don’t tell Osamu about the food thing.”
“Oh, no, his is still better than yours.”
“Of course it is.” You reply back as if it were hardly a matter that needed to be debated. 
Atsumu was good at this; making you smile, making you laugh, making you feel loved and wanted. It didn’t take long for him to stomp on the insecurities that managed to manifest in your heart in order to lessen their load on you. He wouldn’t stand for his partner to feel inadequate compared to someone else, especially since Atsumu chose you. You and your wit, your kindness, your passion, your talent, your everything. 
He stays over that night as he often does, and he knows he really shouldn’t do this, but the people he cares about came before anything else. And what’s the worst it could do, really?, responding to a couple of comments?
Needless to say that Atsumu’s replies talking you up about how great you are under his shippers’ comments make headlines on news articles the next day--and show the world just who his heart truly belongs to regardless of who you were. 
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HINATA: Much about him is different, upgraded. His technical skill has immensely bolstered since his high school days. He's able to pull off more in games; impressive feats achieved by his lightning quick reflexes and speed, once aiding him in his high school signature quick now aiding him in setting and receiving, sharpened by his intense training in the South. Even his physique is different; still shorter than most players you’d encounter in the realm of volleyball, but he’s grown a few inches and packed muscle all around. If that wasn’t enough proof of his hard work, his tan surely gave away just how much he dedicated himself to the sport with all the time he spent out in the sun training. 
All of these things, along with his impressive performance on the court, have made Shoyo Hinata quite popular, and not simply for what people used to cheer him on for; being the underdog, or one half of a fearsome duo. His journey as a player aided him in his career, and all on his own has he established himself as an indomitable force. 
People admire him for that. You admire him for that. You couldn’t blame the people who were so amazed and star stricken by him; how could you when you were as well?
But sometimes it went overboard, and sometimes it seemed like you were the only person who took notice. Sometimes this one sided observation was accidental; he’s too absorbed in his game; in the blood rushing to his ears, in the thrill of a good game-- that he just doesn’t notice. Sometimes you purposely keep the observation one-sided; these kinds of fans are inevitable, and the rational part of you knows they won’t compromise your relationship by any means. 
There's one enthusiastic interviewer that’s a fan of Shoyo’s, and that he’s very friendly with; as he is with all of them. But this one in particular has managed to latch onto him because of it. You see her and her crew at every one of his games, big or small, and always openly expresses her very immense love for the sport; and for him. 
Of course, Shoyo only understands “volleyball”, and you know that he’s always been giddy over being shown on the front covers or interviewed online, and so he’s always eager to accept a conversation with her, especially since she’s so friendly and knowledgeable.
iIt’s late in yours and Shoyo’s apartment when they run the interviews and live games from a big game earlier that season. As they start to discuss the Black Jackals, you call for him over your shoulder in the kitchen, where he’s preparing dinner.
“Sho, hurry, it’s starting!” 
You can hear the increased urgency in his movements, but they die out as you watch one of his interviews from a very familiar news channel come onto screen. Your boyfriend, from hours earlier, stares happily at the interviewer behind the lens.
“Your skill and strength was absolutely incredible in this game- as it always is. You were also very impressive in high school, you must’ve been really popular—especially with the girls.”
You felt your smile drop slightly, not even hearing the curses coming out of Shoyo’s mouth as he fumbled around in the kitchen. 
The Shoyo on screen chuckled and rubbed his neck. “Oh, no, not really. Many didn’t even believe I was a starter!” 
“Oh, that’s me!” Present Shoyo struggling with your food calls out excitedly from behind the kitchen wall. 
“I know!” you laugh over your shoulder, and you recognize the interviewer’s also intermingling with yours, which only makes your irritation grow. 
“You’re so impressive though, especially now! I'm sure there isn’t a single person out there who wouldn’t want to be with you.” 
You could feel a vein in your head pop and your eye twitch, but you were caught off guard by on- screen-Shoyo’s next words.
“Well, I wouldn’t really know; I have an amazing partner who I'm always looking at, so if there were, I wouldn't have noticed!” he laughed, and it’s so sincere that your heart flutters at the honesty behind it.
“Ohh, that’s so sweet.” you hear the interviewer speak again, and you laugh at the significantly less cheer in her voice. “They must all envy—?“
“Y/N!” he interrupts to introduce you with a cheerful nod. “Yeah, I'm not sure. I know I used to envy their admirers.” he reflects with a short laugh. “But they’re truly my biggest supporter, and always put up with my schedules and drills. There’s one drill in particular actually—“ 
He goes back to droning on about the subject at hand, about his volleyball training and how it impacted his performance in the game, but by the time Shoyo from behind the kitchen wall finally arrives into the living room, the main spokesperson has moved on to discussing other players and matches. 
“Aw, did I miss it?” Shoyo cries disappointedly as he speeds into the room, sliding your plate down on the coffee table in front of you and taking a seat beside you on the couch with his own. 
You grin at him, mind still on his words from before and you nudged him. “Took you long enough.”
“You could’ve helped.” he grumbles and you kiss his cheek sympathetically with a small sorry, and from the way he brightens and his cheeks tint pink, you can tell you’re immediately forgiven. 
And as he gushes in awe of the other players’ highlights and interviews, a small part of you can’t help but think back on his words and feel a little smug with yourself when you also remember the interviewer’s awkward disposition after he had brought you up. You can’t help but be comforted to know that the innocent mention of you was not only a reminder to her, but to those like her, that his heart was fully committed to you and only you.  
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SAKUSA: If there was one aspect of Sakusa’s career he particularly disliked, it was the fans. 
It was evident that he couldn’t care less about the fame he had or the things people were willing to do for him or had to say about him (unless they were directly interfering with his life), and you couldn’t help but feel some sort of relief to know Kiyoomi would not spare a single glance at some of his more fiercely devoted fans.
Yet of course, your problem had to lie outside of that realm.
Your problem was not an avid fan, who had the circumstances of a parasocial relationship to comfort you, but a colleague of Kiyoomi’s whom the Jackals worked pretty closely with; and happened to be quite a fan of your boyfriends.
You felt bad getting worked up over something so petty, but her persistence in trying to extend her relationship with Sakusa into something friendlier couldn’t help but sound off alarm bells in your head. You already knew that your boyfriend had a million other nuisances to deal with, and you had no intention of adding onto that list with your selfishness and unjustified uneasiness, especially when you knew your boyfriend had strict boundaries he wouldn’t compromise for anyone. 
Well, almost anyone. 
She was shamelessly unprofessional at times, attempting to emulate your affectionate behavior towards him in hopes that she’ll receive the same sort of submissive response that only you could get out of him. 
Your boyfriend, for the sake of keeping good business, tolerated the over-friendliness, and saw it as nothing more than an attempt at trying to seem more casual and easy going in a business setting. 
You’ve attempted to subtly bring up your discomfort at times when she got too out of hand for your liking, typically when the two of you were in the car or lounging around at home. You’d ask his thoughts about her behavior or her personality, to which he respond with something that amounted to the conclusion that: “she’s just doing her job.” 
She’s tagged along on one of the away games that you so happen to also be coming along on. She's been quite enthusiastic on sharing her research on the area they’re staying in to him, and she doesn’t spare a single detail as he prepares to head out for the day. 
“--and apparently the food in this area is extremely good. Everyone says that you can’t visit without trying it. There’s this restaurant in particular not too far from the training center! I’m sure I can get the two of us reservations before we--” 
“Why would we do that?” he asks suddenly, obviously already irritated by her incessant conversation, turning toward her with a frown. 
Her expression is one of shock and slight embarrassment for a moment before she recollects herself. 
“Just…you know, to sample the cuisine!”
“Is it business related?”
Again, blunt and to the point, the woman needs a moment before she responds.
“Well--”
“My partner and I have plans while we’re in the area. You can talk to my manager about scheduling a meeting regarding any matters you have to discuss. I've already discussed with them my availability.” 
You start to approach him as he finishes setting the remainder of his gear into his training bag, and the woman yet again tries to recollect herself after suddenly being met with the fact that Kiyoomi was already taken. He looks up at you waiting for him by the gymnasium doors, and doesn’t even spare the woman a single glance or wave before making his way over.
He bumps your shoulder as he strides in step with you, mumbling “let’s get out of here.” and then “are your hands clean?”
And when you mumble a yeah in response, he reaches down to take one in his, intertwining your fingers and leaving just enough room for the woman watching your backs to be able to see the rare show of affection. 
You’re caught off guard by the sudden pda, and glance over your shoulder, then back at him in confusion. He feels your quizzical gaze on him and sighs exasperatedly. “She wasn’t just doing her job…”
You couldn’t help but hum a little pleased with yourself, puffing out your chest a little when you realized that she didn’t get her way, and squeeze his hand a little tighter. He shoots you a look at you a little with a roll of his eyes and squeezes back. “We’re going back to the room.”
“Actually, I heard there was a really nice restaurant around here. I was thinking of trying to get us reservations.”
He stared down at your eager smile and bright eyes and found his resolve waning the longer he did so. He turned his gaze back toward the front. “Okay. Room first, though.” 
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axel-tiredstudent · 6 months ago
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Inarizaki doodles :3
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danotiel · 1 year ago
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a batch made in heaven 🍞🥖✨
for sunaosa week day one: bakery
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moshaeu · 7 months ago
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serotonin skts
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mmag-translations · 1 month ago
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Family Mart Collab | By Miya
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m-art-i · 1 year ago
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snos week day 5: pro osamu
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atsumutu · 1 year ago
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The rain hasn’t stopped all day. Somewhere down the line, the steady patter of raindrops had filtered into background noise, lending you a sense of company in your otherwise empty apartment.
It’s only when a loud crack of thunder pierces through the calm that you’re pulled out of your daze, attention snapping towards your phone when the screen lights up to notify you of a message from the very person you’d been so lost in thought over. Your fingers snatch the device from the coffee table, quickly unlocking it to find a voice note waiting for you. Without wasting a second, you press play.
“Hey baby,” your lips pull up instantaneously at the familiar twang, “Shit, don’t know if you’ll be able to hear me, it’s raining like crazy over here.” The voice note goes silent for a second, only to be filled with the unmistakable sound of rain crashing onto the roof of the gym, echoing loudly in the way it usually did in large, empty structures.
“It’s probably raining over there too, I hope you’re keeping warm. I've left plenty of hoodies for you - not as good as the real deal, I know, but it’ll have to do for now.” Despite his jovial words, Atsumu sighs into the phone. “Ya probably miss me huh?” You catch yourself nodding in agreement, eyes crinkling as a small laugh slips past your lips.
“It’s okay to miss me, but don’t miss me too much, I don’t want you to be sad all by yourself.” He’s half joking, but your eyes prickle all the same. Atsumu had been gone a week now and there was still another week to go so you were missing him, a lot. “If you’re feeling lonely give Samu a visit, you know he’s always happy to have you around.”
Someone’s calling for him but Atsumu continues.
“I miss ya, so damn much, but training camp will be over soon baby and I'll be back to annoy you for kisses everyday in no time.” You hear fumbling and some more shouts for your boyfriend to get back to work.
“Listen angel I gotta go, make yourself something yummy for dinner, i’ll call you after practice alright?” There’s a short pause and you blink at your phone almost accusingly, wondering if it had cut him off. “I love ya and I can’t wait to be back with ya baby, I really do have to go now. I love you.” His words are jumbled and rushed but you hear a quick smacking of lips as Atsumu sends you a kiss, cutting off just as you hear someone holler “Simp!”
The voice note ends abruptly leaving you and your apartment in silence once more. Except you’re smiling, your small giggles filling the room and it doesn’t feel so empty anymore.
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zentriii · 5 months ago
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prepping for the paris olympics since high school o7
@animeolympics2024 day 2 – paris
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flylacc · 2 months ago
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sunaosa week day seven: streetfood-ish + downtown 🍡🍻
"Hey, can I get a bite?"
"Sure-"
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(pose inspired by this very amazing very hilarious adorable art that I frequently come back to just cuz it never fails to makes me smile/giggle
check out all of @dfsdgaefh's work if you need your skin cleared, crops watered, depression cured…!)
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morgan-lowell · 8 months ago
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Aran, about the twins: Every time those two team up, I get anxiety. I can’t stand it.
Osamu: That’s not anxiety!
Atsumu: That’s excitement!
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flyingwargle · 7 months ago
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“coach! i brought keiji with me!”
akaashi steps out from behind bokuto, a familiar sight to the black jackals. they gather around him with greetings and waves, and he replies with his usual formality. foster joins the huddle and gives him a warm smile. “welcome back, keiji. it’s always a pleasure to see you.”
“thank you for letting me stay.” he bows.
“we welcome family, friends, and significant others. isn’t that right, boys?” foster shoots a look at his players. meian and barnes whistle innocently, and hinata scratches the back of his head. “i always appreciate your observations.” he turns his heel. “koutarou, can i have a word with you? shugo, get started on warm-ups, please.”
“sure, coach.” meian gestures for his teammates to head to the court while bokuto walks with his coach to the side. akaashi is about to take his spot on the bench when an arm slings around his shoulder.
“hey, ‘kaashi, i gotta ask for yer advice,” miya says. “ya got a minute?”
“i’ll do my best to help. what is it?”
 “i need ta see ya set. bokkun keeps sayin’ my tosses are second-best an’ i ain’t settlin’ for that.”
akaashi glances over his shoulder. “i’m afraid you’re out of luck. i haven’t set a ball since high school.”
“bokkun tells me ya still play,” miya points out, raising an eyebrow. “casually.”
“yes, as a form of exercise. i’m sure he only says you’re second-best because of our relationship.”
“that man needs ta keep romance off the court,” miya grumbles. “yer here anyway, might as well play fer a bit. i know ya got a pair of court shoes in his apartment.”
“i’m not dressed for volleyball, if you haven’t noticed.”
“miya!” meian calls out. “get over here!”
“just think of how happy bokkun would be if he could hit yer tosses,” miya says, sliding toward his teammates. “ain’t nothin’ better than seein’ yer partner shine their brightest, y’know?” he jogs away, leaving akaashi to stare after him, stupefied.
if he thinks about it, there isn't anything special about his tosses. each spiker has their own preferences, from the ball’s height, distance from the net or antenna, and speed. bokuto never had any specifications; right from the start, he simply told akaashi, “just give me a toss! any toss!” later, he learned that the third-year setter didn’t toss to bokuto often because of how streaky his performance was, and it wasn’t until after he retired that bokuto’s full potential was realized.
no, that isn’t accurate. akaashi was never able to draw out his full strength, but with someone as talented as miya, he could definitely raise bokuto to greater heights. if bokuto had gone to a different school, had someone better as his setter, would he have taken victory home? but that implies a future where they’d never meet, one that akaashi doesn’t want to think about.
“keiji?”
akaashi startles. bokuto is in front of him, hands in his, concern in his eyes. “you’re overthinking again. is something on your mind?”
noise filters in and blocks out the rest of his thoughts. akaashi shakes himself, looks up at him. “no, everything is fine. if you don’t mind, i need to head back to the apartment for something. i’ll be right back.” he kisses his check in farewell and hurries off. he should have a spare t-shirt and shorts somewhere.
when he returns, practice is underway. he sits on a bench, chats with the assistant managers, who relay any observations he makes. afterwards, foster thanks him for his advice before heading out, and bokuto approaches. akaashi stands. “why don’t we play for a bit?”
“you want to play volleyball?” bokuto gasps. “but–“
“miya told me that you said his tosses are second-best, and he wants to know why. it appears he won’t take anything short of a live demonstration.” akaashi takes his jacket off, reveals the faded fukurodani gym strip that he once wore daily. “so why don’t we show him?”
“nice ta have ya join us, ‘kaashi,” miya says, standing between hinata and sakusa. “i’m ready ta see what yer tosses are like.”
“akaashi-san’s tosses are great!” hinata chirps. “they’re super easy to hit!”
“that was before. as for now…” akaashi stands at the net where the setter is positioned. “it…has been quite a while since i last did this.” he can’t even remember the last casual game he played, anywhere from last month to last year. the days tend to blur together, lost in the monotony of adulthood.
after he warms up and declares himself ready, bokuto marches forward to go first, but miya holds him off. “gotta save the best fer last, y’know?”
“i’ll go, then!” hinata stands at the end line, ball in hand. “any toss you’re comfortable with is fine, akaashi-san!” he throws his ball and makes his approach.
hinata’s contact point is much higher than before. he’s in the air longer, similar to hoshiumi-san. so the toss should be… akaashi jumps, sets the ball. hinata spikes it effortlessly, cheering as he lands. “nice toss!”
“nice kill!” bokuto cheers.
sakusa is next. “i prefer if it’s close to the net.” akaashi nods, watching the ball as it arches through the air. sakusa’s jumps aren’t as powerful, his main strength being the snap of his wrist. he sets it slightly lower, close to the net. his spike is parallel to the sideline.
“sharp!” hinata comments.
“not bad,” miya remarks.
bokuto is last. their eyes meet, his golden eyes radiating with nothing but love. akaashi smiles, simply raises his hands as the ball arches toward him. he sets it, and bokuto meets it in midair, arm pulled back, slamming the ball down with enough force that it bounces off the wall. when he lands, he pivots and picks akaashi up in his arms. “yup, your tosses are still the best!”
“bokkun,” miya whines, “ya gotta explain why! what makes my tosses second-best?”
“it’s because his tosses remind me of the best time in my life.” bokuto’s grin is wide, eyes on his boyfriend, a spark in its depths. “i have fun playing volleyball every day with you guys, but nothing beats playing with keiji. i’d never want to trade it for anything.”
akaashi feels his chest throb with adoration. all his overthinking was for nothing. “thank you, kou. i feel the same way.” his cheeks warm as bokuto leans forward to kiss him, his teammates making comments in mock disgust. he laughs, happy to be in his arms, watching him shine the brightest he has ever been.
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6okuto · 2 years ago
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MORNING KISSES
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(time skip) osamu x gn!reader | suggestive (a make-out session), 1.1k
(tag list lmk if u want to be untagged for suggestive posts btw) u do a littol kissin! getting back to writing...bwah. didn't proofread. don't tell me about any mistakes. (/j) ill explode
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"i'll get breakfast started 'nd you can come down when y'aren't so sleepy, then,” osamu murmurs before sitting up to stretch. light sneaks in through the blinds, and it casts a striped shadow across his toned back while you watch him fondly. it’s been a while since the two of you got to sleep in, you note. the restaurant’s been doing well enough that your boyfriend’s decided to take the day off to “focus on you instead."
you hum in response, pulling the blanket up to your chin in attempt to keep the cold away. he’s barely made it two steps out of bed when you call his name. “‘samu.”
“hm?” you don’t say anything, and he turns to see an expectant look on your face. he jokingly sighs before making his way over to your side of the bed and bending down. “how could i forget?” he asks, pressing a chaste kiss to your head and standing back up.
you pout a little before hiding under the covers again. it wasn’t exactly the kiss you wanted, but you stay quiet considering you chose to stare in silence as your plea. osamu raises a brow. “why'd you pout?”
“what? i didn’t pout.”
“yes you did.”
“no i didn’t.”
“i jus' saw you?”
“okay? you saw wrong?”
“darlin’."
“i—” his expression is disproportionately serious for his crime, you think, and you can’t help but laugh. shaking your head, you try to wave him off. “it was nothing, seriously. go make breakfast, ‘samu.”
osamu’s face is still scrunched in worried confusion. he's never been one to let it go if he's done something wrong, especially when it came to you.
it takes another second, but eventually his expression relaxes, and he smiles knowingly. this time he kneels fully to be eye-level with you. you blink at him. “what’re you—what’s happening?”
he exhales, and you stare. he’s close enough that you can smell his new shampoo, and for a fleeting moment you wonder if reaching out to touch his hair would be too out of place. he'd raise a brow and smirk at you. say something to embarrass you so he could watch as you'd bury your face back into the pillow and—
a hand is suddenly coming to hold your face, and a thumb runs across your cheek. osamu juts his tongue to wet his lips, and all you can do is continue to watch, flustered. “‘m sorry. i didn’t kiss you properly, right?”
and as if he could hear your “no” before you’ve even opened your mouth, he leans in to kiss you. denial dies on your tongue when his lips meld with yours, perfectly as if they were made to match. it’s gentle and loving, longer than his peck to your forehead. you relax under his touch but all too soon he pulls away to look at you, hand still warm against your face. “was that better?”
you think his voice is as soft as his lips were.
“...maybe.”
"maybe?"
“maybe.”
to be honest, you don’t think your brain has registered his question. all it knows is how light is reflecting in your boyfriend's eyes perfectly, and his messy bedhead hair is still calling for your touch. your gaze is honed in on his lips when they curl into a smile. and then they're coming closer.
osamu’s eyes are heavy-lidded, and you can feel his breath against your skin as his lips brush against yours. he teases, “well, that’s not good enough, is it?”
your only response is a shake of your head, earning a huffed laugh before he closes the distance between you. again, osamu kisses you. and this time your arms reach around his neck as if you could close the gap between you even more—force him to stay with you instead of cook eggs, or toast, or whatever you asked for 5 minutes ago. you don't remember, and you’re not sure you care, or that he’d mind with the way he presses forward and gently holds the back of your neck.
he groans a little when your fingers finally find their way to his hair and pull gently. he starts to pull away, and you whine, only to be met with a chuckle. “yer killin’ me, y’know,” osamu huffs.
yet he kisses you again. and again, and again, and again. his lips find yours and you sigh against them, chest fluttering at the way he gently bites your lower lip.
you maneuver so that he’s forced to get back into bed on top of you. he hovers, one hand beneath your head, and the other clutching the pillow above. the only sounds besides shifting bed sheets are your racing heart, soft breathes, and open-mouth kisses.
a hand eventually lowers to grip your hip and caress your skin. cold fingers slide their way beneath your shirt, making you gasp and reflexively pull him in. a groan escapes osamu when his hips momentarily grind against yours. his kisses get harder, more needy, his breaths heavier and his hold on your waist a little tighter.
your hand travels down his back, and you pull—you know he's strong enough that he wouldn't let himself topple onto you. he complies to your touch, and you become keenly aware of his chest pressed against yours.
but before anything else can happen, osamu pulls away. though not far. his nose brushes against yours and when you open your eyes, it’s easy to see him still staring at your lips. his eyes finally flicker up to yours and he smiles.
he leans down to your ear, and your breath hitches. “you're poutin' again,” he whispers.
“i'll assume that means that kiss was better?”
his breath tickles and you squirm, scrunching your nose and bringing your shoulder up as a defense. “tease. and i don’t know if that counted as one kiss.”
a gust of air is blown into your neck and you laugh before pushing him away. osamu breathes out a laugh of his own before moving back to hover above you. "okay, smart-ass. how about those ones?"
“i guess they were marginally better,” you tease. he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, narrowing his eyes. you get ready for him to blow more air at you, but instead he squishes your cheeks together and shakes your head.
you giggle and grab his hand with your own, not really doing anything to stop him, and osamu grins at you again. there's an almost sickening amount of love in his eyes as he sighs. “let me make breakfast, then i’ll kiss you properly as much as you’d like, alright?”
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dyerink · 1 month ago
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tragic backstory
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