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forget me not | inarizaki

a series?? possibly?? 

Ever since you woke up in a hospital room without a single memory of who you are and how you got there, you’ve been in the care of Kita Shinsuke-- arguably the most loving and thoughtful husband alive. You two lead the most perfect, quiet little life in a farm in Hyogo prefecture. You are loved and cared for, every single waking moment. 

But as you slowly regain your memories, the cracks in an otherwise flawless façade begin to show. The night of the accident remains a blur, even to the local police. All they know is what the sole witness, Miya Atsumu, told them. People start to talk. Rumors circulate. Yet, nobody really knows the truth. 

Nobody except Kita. Your sweet, patient, perfect husband.

Too sweet. Too patient. Too perfect.

Who needs memories?

photo source

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all it took was seeing one (1) tweet about kita with ducks and a friend telling me I should follow my heart to find myself here 

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how the haikyuu boys fall in love

oikawa falls in love like a tsunami’s last breath. the first time he realises he loves you, he thinks the earth beneath his feet has fractured. terrified, he recedes from your life, pulls back from your outstretched hands, withdraws from your longing gaze, hoping that his feelings will, too. instead, they surge forward with a roar, swell to monstrous heights, foaming viciously at the crest. and soon, the colossal wave collapses against the shore, unable to fight any longer. when his words finally flood out, that roar of the tsunami arrives in the end as a whisper–– “i love you.” and everything is washed anew.

iwaizumi falls in love like a tree branch under snow. his feelings accumulate crystal by crystal: a touch here, a smile there, a picture at 2 am followed by “i saw this and thought of you” and a reply of “go to sleep, idiot” seconds later. you worm your way into his heart so slowly he doesn’t notice it at first, doesn’t notice the thick layer of snow on the caving wooden limb, doesn’t notice that one more fleeting brush against his fingers will tip the scale–– until the branch finally snaps. and when he opens his eyes to a world bedazzled by snow, the only face he can see is yours.

kuroo falls in love like honey on pancakes. with him, there’s no sudden realisation, no flashbulb moment of his adoration, because he’s been happily fixed in a golden state of mind ever since the day you met. every day, his name sounds sweeter out your mouth. every day, he wakes up with sugar on his lips. it’s slow, how his love for you grows, but it’s steady. and now, as you kiss every knuckle on his hand to pull him back down to earth, he can only let out a soft, amused exhale through his nose. his half-lidded gaze focuses on your decadent features. “i’m here,” he purrs. 

kenma falls in love like eyelids after dark. very rarely do the gears in his head stop spinning; he’s lived his entire life on alert, taking in and apart details to survive. but with you… there’s no need to take in and apart the way your lips feel against his, the scent of your hair in his nose, your shallow breath against his neck. it all feels so safe. with you, he’s home–– he can finally rest. so even when light drains out from the sky, even when the world is at its worst, at the feeling of your body curling up to his, the gears in his head grind to a halt. and he lets his heart beat instead.

bokuto falls in love like a fledgeling from its nest. he knows it’s reckless––  ridiculously reckless–– to have so much faith in wings not yet fully formed, but there’s something about you that makes him want to soar. maybe it’s that you remind him of a cloudless blue sky or a valley that stretches from both ends of the earth or an ocean that glitters beneath the sun. maybe it’s that your name is a call to adventure. and at that moment, he realises that birds don’t fly when they’re ready–– they fly when they’re called to. so he steps to the edge, spreads his arms out, and leaps, your name a prayer on his lips.

akaashi falls in love like silence between friends. it comes over him naturally, instinctively, right as he thinks that he could do nothing next to you forever and still be satisfied. the feeling wraps his shoulders like a blanket and, with a twitch of his lips, he pulls it closer around himself. his eyes dart over to your figure, wondering if you know–– if you’d known this whole time. and then when you catch his gaze, when you ask “like what you see?” with a smirk on your face, he feels the fabric stretch around his shoulders as if to fit a second body. his reply comes to him like second nature, like instinct. “no, i love it.”

atsumu falls in love like skydiving from a plane. he’s meticulous, guarded, the most untrusting of fate. so he fights to gain the upper hand: he picks his parachute, his pilot, the day with the best weather–– everything is in his control. and when you come in full view, he finally thinks the dropzone is perfect. only then does he throw all caution to the wind, diving head first, eyes closed all the way down. an awesome wave of euphoria washes over him, lasting even when he realises he’s landed right in your arms, hair mussed, cheeks flushed, pupils wild with excitement. he wants to freefall into you again. so he does.

osamu falls in love like night over the city. it’s as inevitable as the cycle of the sun and moon and when it happens, he’s still the same–– yet everything is different. beside you, he feels the air change and all else fade into the background. beside you, the hum of the world turns into a steady beat, a pulse awfully similar to the one in his chest. and he flickers to life, a mosaic of light, when you touch him. he doesn’t usually look like this, you think as you draw circles on the back of his hand, trying to pinpoint what about him has changed. smiling softly, he knows that you’ll figure it out soon. or… he could say it now.

kita falls in love like a seed into the ground. he doesn’t feel it when it’s sowed, nor when it takes root beneath the soil, but he sure feels when it sprouts. its stem crawls around his legs and up his trunk, keeping him safely fixed to earth. it grows with every “good morning” and “i’ll save you a seat”, it grows when you prance over with a joke on your lips and two coffees in your hands. it grows when he sees you with your eyes closed, head tilted towards the sky like a sunflower, and realises that you are all he’s ever wanted. your head turns. your eyes meet. and as spring does with the cherry trees, he blooms.

ushijima falls in love like a comet past the sun. as he hurtles by, your radiance melts his icy exterior into the glimmering cloud in his wake. every inch of his body is on fire. he feels the power in the pull of your orbit. feels you could utterly ruin him. feels he’d be okay with it, too. but you don’t. instead, he thinks himself made of anti-gravity as you trace constellations into his skin. he sees stars collide when you kiss. and when he remembers how a comet can spend thousands of years without passing the sun in its orbit, he looks at you asleep in his arms and holds you just a little tighter to his chest.

tendou falls in love like confetti on new year’s eve. this moment has spent all year in the making. ten, from the day you pummelled into his life. nine, the time that slowed when he saw you smile. eight, when you changed each other’s names in your phones. seven, that time he dragged you out to a party. six, how you retaliated by taking him to a play. five, your shoulders touch during said play. four, his fingers wrap around yours during the finale. three, you hold hands all the way home. two, he walks you to the door. one, you stop. zero, he leans in. and the world explodes in full colour.

kageyama falls in love like a fawn upright for the first time. it’s all new–– the butterflies in his stomach, the sluggishness of his tongue in his mouth, the short-circuiting of his brain when you’re around. he stumbles and trips and topples over navigating through the tingling in his body. “are you okay?” you ask, peering into his eyes. his cheeks burn as he nods, unable to form words. he thinks he’ll be fine, though, until you place a hand on his shoulder. the touch sends another flood of electricity through his nerves. “you sure? you look like you’re about to hurl.” and he resolves that he will do something about this.

tsukishima falls in love like a chest in resignation. he didn’t believe in softer emotions–– or at least, that’s what he told himself. and he held out for so long. but then you came along with your dumb sparkly eyes and your stupid smart mouth and infuriatingly sweet smile. even with the argument still fresh on his mind, he still adores you to death. especially right now, as he struggles to breathe knowing that he might lose you. fine, he thinks, no more running. he picks up his phone and sends the message that’s been sitting in his notes. and finally, he lets out a sigh. you win. he’s never been happier to lose.

sakusa falls in love like the last leaf before winter. just as a tree holds onto its foliage for dear life, he is stubborn in refusing to fall. still, even he is powerless against nature. as autumn goes, winter arrives in your form. he thinks you are the strangest cold–– the kind that soothes instead of stings, the kind that kindles fires and bakes chocolate chip cookies, the kind that turns his cheeks red without a touch but with a smile. but he likes it. so when winter knocks at his door and asks if he’s “ready to go?” he, the last leaf on the tree, finally flutters down to the ground.

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Sugawara Koushi (24)

Elementary School Teacher

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tsukki’s first visit to the museum 🦖

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i’ll wait | daichi

What do you do when the one you love tells you they need space? How do you cope when they’ve gone? And what do you do if you’re not sure they’ll ever come back?

Pairing: Timeskip!Daichi x female reader

Warnings: Yearning, angst once again 

Wc: 1359

Daichi loved you enough to keep his distance, even though all he wanted to do right then was run over and say hello. 

He watched as you walked out of the corner store across the street with a small cup of coffee in your hand. Your hair was different now, shorter than it used to be. You were no longer sporting that ratty yellow hoodie you used to wear back in high school. You might be a little taller, but he couldn't be sure. 

God, how long has it been since he'd last seen you? 

He was sure it’s been years. 

Daichi could still recall the night you told him you were going to leave, much too vividly. If he closed his eyes, he could see the stars twinkling faintly above your heads and feel the warm June breeze rustle through his hair. He could picture the balcony in your room, with its rusty old railings and the paint chipping off it. And if he tried really hard, he could feel a whisper of your touch, your left hand enveloped in his right. 

Sometimes, even if he didn't try at all, the memory would still come to him. Late at night, before bed. Idle moments in the station while he put on his uniform. On the way home from work. It wasn’t the kind of moment you easily forget.

"All I've ever known is you, Daichi," you'd told him. He thought it was sweet. He pulled you closer by the waist and planted a kiss on your temple. "And you're all I'll ever know," he'd chuckled in reply. 

But you just gave him a look. "I'm serious," you said, looking away from his face and fixing your gaze on the stars instead. "It's not bad," you continued. "But I can't help but wonder if there's more." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean, I love you, Daichi. I've loved you since we were six years old, and you gave me a pebble from the yard outside your building because you thought it looked cool. I loved you all throughout our awkward and embarrassing junior high phases. I loved you through the times I barely got to see you 'cause you were so focused on volleyball in senior high. I loved you then, and I love you now, and I will love you tomorrow," you looked back at him. "And if the greatest thing I'll ever do with my life is love you, then my life wouldn't have been a waste. I would be happy to go on, like this, loving you forever." There were tears in your eyes. 

"I love you too," Daichi answered. But as he leaned in to give you another kiss, you pulled away. “I would be happy,” you whisper. “But I don’t know if I’ll be content.” 

"I mean... Doesn't it terrify you?" You asked him, eyes on the stars once more. "We're barely nineteen." 

Daichi didn't understand. So what if you were kids? Love didn't pick an age. Young as he was, he knew that he loved you for real, knew that he would be happy to spend the rest of his life with you. But Daichi kept silent, waiting for you to continue.

"I need space," you said. There was a tremor in your voice that he had never heard before. You shook your head, a bitter laugh falling from your lips. "I'm not like you. I don't know who I'm supposed to be, or what I'm supposed to do. Daichi, I'm nineteen." 

Daichi couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What’s age got anything to do with it?" he asked, slowly taking your hand in his. "You’re you. You are the best person I know. You are smarter than most people we know, but you never make a show of it. You are forgiving, and patient to a fault— I sometimes want to smack people because they take advantage of that.” Daichi smiled faintly. "You’re a weirdo, though. You dip your nuggets in gravy instead of the sauce, and your hands are always cold even though you wear that yellow sweater all the time. You meow back at cats when they meow at you, and you think nobody notices, but I do. And it doesn't matter, because all those things make you, you. You’re a wonderful sister, and a loving daughter, and the best friend —the best girlfriend— anyone can ever ask for. The stuff of prayers, that's who you are." 

Daichi swallowed thickly. He could feel the tears brimming. If he blinked, or took his eyes off of you, he was sure they would fall. "As for what you're supposed to do, we can figure that out together," he said. "I'll be right here, right next to you, through all of it."

"Man, I love you," you smiled at Daichi, but your eyes conveyed a different emotion. "But that's the thing. I need to figure out who I am outside of us." 

Silence. Daichi takes a breath and leans against the railing. His head was beginning to spin and tears were clouding his vision. He didn’t know what else to say. You mirrored his actions, picking at the peeling paint beneath your fingers. "I just need some space, that's all," you whispered. "Just a few weeks." 

But a few weeks turned into a few months and a few months eventually turned into a year. And then, two years. Three years. Four. You both went to university. Daichi took up a degree in social work, and fell in love with the idea of spending his life serving the community. He’d always known he was going to work in civil service— he’d told you that much, even when you were still in high school. But he developed a deeper passion for it during his university years, and he often found himself wanting to share the things he’d been learning about, with you. 

But Daichi didn’t even know what you majored in. 

It was difficult, especially in the beginning. He would spend weekends passing by places you used to go to together, hoping he’d find you there. Daichi caught himself keeping an eye out for you in the rush hour crowd, in grocery lines, at bus stops, and in cafes. He would meet with Sugawara and Asahi from time to time to catch up, and would always have to fight the urge to ask them if they knew how you were. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to tell you that he loved you, to remind you that he was waiting, and that he’d always be waiting for you. 

But love means being patient. Love means allowing the other person enough time, enough space, to maintain their own inward rhythms. In your case, Daichi wanted to let you have the time and space to discover your own rhythm, to learn and discover things just as he did. And when the time was right, he would find you again. Or you would find him. And your rhythms would no longer be out of tune. Waiting was difficult, but it was all he could do. 

These were the thoughts that ran through his head, a mile a minute, as he stood frozen across the street, watching you. His heart raced, and he wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you and him. Daichi’s breath hitched. Your eyes met his, a look of surprise painted across your features. Your lips formed into a small, sheepish smile. 

Daichi smiled back, immediately raising his hand to wave. But just as quickly as his hand shot up, your eyes flickered away. You clutched your coffee and turned away, heading in the opposite direction. Daichi’s heart fell to the pit of his stomach. He shoved his hands inside his jacket pockets, and willed himself to go forward. 

Daichi loved you enough to keep his distance, even with the ache in his chest and the ringing in his ears. The bittersweet memory of your smile was quickly burning itself on the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure what it meant, or even if it meant anything at all. He wasn’t sure what to do about it. One thing he was sure of, though, was that he loved you enough to wait. Yes, that’s it. He would wait.

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paper rings | oikawa toru

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Oikawa Toru x Fem!Reader 

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. “The realization that wealth and luxury aren’t nearly as important as love.” 

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. Angst to fluff, established relationship, timeksip!oikawa, domestic life, arguing 

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5.7k

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. Kinda inspired by the Post-it wedding Derek and Meredith had. Please, I’m so desperate for a relationship, but the thought of actually being in one sounds… :D No thank you. Maybe not now.

Oikawa Toru is not a violent man. He’s dramatic in nature, so he’s more of the ‘silent brooding’ type. The kind with the dark cloud raining over the characters in those Saturday morning cartoons. Lightning would strike every now and then just to add to it, too.  

If he ever did open his mouth to speak, his words were…Well, his words were rather colorful. He’s always been good at expressing himself, it comes to no surprise at all. His mouth is a revolver and his words are like bullets firing into your chest, one more painful than the last. 

May the gods bless the heart of the one on the receiving end of it. 

And after a whole month of quietly sizzling and ignoring you, you become the target. 

“You’re just jealous I have more drive than you!” Oikawa spits at you, quite literally. He’s brimming at the limit with rage as he looks at you like a sworn enemy. He’s absolutely livid, completely unrecognizable to you. In all your years with him, you’ve never seen him this angry. 

Oikawa’s nails dig deep into the leather of the steering wheel as he speeds down the road on your way to your parents’ house for dinner. His eyes flicker back to the dimly lit road, keeping it there for the remainder of the drive.

You wanted to bail on dinner, but you’ve cancelled one too many times; you’ve run out of too many excuses.  And at this point, you’d feel incredibly guilty if you did it again. You’d never hear the end of it from your mom. 

“You’re just jealous that I actually have something to live for while - while you do what? What is that you do, wasting your life away on what?” 

Very slowly, you twist your head with a murderous glare in your eyes, flashing beneath the row of lamplights the cars zooms down the road; “How dare you.” It’s more of a statement than it is a question, and it sends an unwelcome shiver up Oikawa’s spine. Just for a moment his stoned heart softens - just for a moment. 

You’ve been biting your tongue and holding back on stepping on his toes and crossing a line. But it seems your boyfriend doesn’t mind parading himself right over it. 

Keep reading

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in volleyball... the past is gone. there ain’t no such thing as memories. all you need is right here.

[ on twt ]

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So, India is dying.

Look, I know a good number of you are from the US and things aren't amazing there either, but my country is literally on the brink of collapse. So I'd love it if we could talk about that for a minute.

If you can't do anything else, please just read and reblog.

A second COVID wave has taken out the healthcare system. There are no more hospital beds. There's an oxygen shortage. There's a critical vaccine shortage. The Central Government has thrown its hands up and is passing the baton to the State Governments to do what they can.

There are over 16 million covid cases. A record 330,000 new cases reported yesterday - comparable to the US at its peak. 187,000 dead as of today.

There is no plan.

Mass cremations are taking place. The cremation grounds are running day and night and they are short on wood. People are watching their loved ones die while waiting for a hospital bed, and then they're unable to give them the proper burial rights.

Hospitals are overwhelmed. Patients are being confined, two to a bed. They're the lucky ones.

We are on the verge of people dying in the streets.

This is the second-most populous country in the world. The largest democracy. A country that encapsulates over 15,000 years of recorded human history and has endured everything from famine to invasion to colonisation.

We might be at the end. This might be the thing that does us in.

People are dying.

People are dying.

People are dying and there is no plan.

More good news? Variants are popping up. A double mutation strain has shown up. It is resistant to current vaccines. This will not go away. This is the devastation they warned of when the anti-maskers were out protesting the minor inconvenience of covering their face in public.

My country is on the verge of an emergency state. Our government has failed us. This is as dire a situation as it ever could be.

Look. I don't do much with my life. I write fics, some of you have read them and that's pretty much it. I spend my days with my head in the clouds because that's where I like to be.

But two days ago, my grandmother tested positive, had to be taken to hospital and the ambulance caught fire.

She barely made it to the urgent care she needs.

So, here I am, using whatever meager platform I have to cobble this request together. Because I have to do something.

If you can, donate.

Or spread the word.

Help. Please.

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bad guy | tsukki

“There was no place in heaven for someone like him. But damn it, Tsukishima would do his best to earn his place with you.”

pairing: tsukki x reader

warnings: angst angst angst akjsjkskja slight fluff at the end tho

wc: too many i think jk 2127

Tsukishima has never claimed to be a good person. 

He’s arrogant and mean. He’s never been the openly kind and caring type. He had a nasty habit of provoking people, and often found himself rather enjoying making fun of them. He’s also been told that he intimidates people very easily. Tsukishima is pretty sure these things don’t make him your usual run-of-the-mill good boy. He didn’t gain the nickname ‘Suckyshima’ among his teammates and friends for nothing. 

But at the very least, he’s always thought that when it really mattered, one could find goodness at his core. 

He knew you believed it, too. He could see it in your eyes; could hear it in the tone of your voice, the way you spoke to him; could sense it in the way you relaxed your shoulders and laughed so easily around him. Tsukishima never understood why. Nobody has gotten close to him as easily as you did— not even Yamaguchi. You were, by all accounts, his polar opposite. You only ever had kind words, and rarely scowled at anybody. You were polite, sweet, and his mother just adored you. You had sharp edges too, sure. Everyone did. But you were the goodest person he knew. 

Which is why it kept him awake, every night, remembering what he did to you. 

“What are you talking about?” you asked, trailing after him as he walked away from the gym. There was a tremble in your voice and he hated it. “I don’t understand why you’re being like this, Kei.”

“I’m saying this as simply as I can,” he replied over his shoulder. “I don’t want to be with you anymore.” 

“But why?” He could hear your footsteps coming closer. “You just keep repeating that, but you don’t tell me why.” He felt a hand wrap around his wrist, tugging him backwards. Tsukishima sighed and stopped in his tracks. He wasn’t sure he’d make it out of this alive if he turned to look at your face. So he didn’t. He shook your hand away, sighing.

“Don’t you love me anymore?” Tsukishima was completely certain you were crying. 

“No, I don’t.” He replied. Tsukishima heard your breath hitch, and his heart stopped. He hated this. He hated this. 

“No,” you told him. “I don’t believe you, Kei. I don’t believe it.” 

“Fine,” Tsukishima said, pushing himself forward. “Don’t believe me. I don’t care.” 

You lunged after him, throwing your arms around his waist. Tsukishima’s breath stopped. “I don’t believe you Kei,” you repeated, tightening your grip. “Not for one second.” 

He took a breath and spun around, mustering as much strength as he could in that millisecond. “What’s wrong with you?” He spat, pushing you away in one swift motion. “Don’t believe me, that’s fine. But I’m telling the truth, I don’t want to be with you anymore.” 

“You’re a liar, Kei,” your voice was just barely above a whisper now. Tsukishima was almost certain this was worse than having you yell at him. “Look at me. Look me in the eyes. And tell me that again.” 

“I don’t owe you anything,” he replied, trying to keep his voice from trembling too. “But if this will make you stop, sure.” He took a breath. “I’m tired. No, I’m exhausted. Between you and volleyball, I just can’t keep up. You always expect so much of me, and you never leave me alone. Do you know how tiring it is to be with someone who constantly needs reassurance? Who always needs me around? I’m sorry, I just can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to be with you anymore. ” 

He was sure that the look in your eyes at that very moment would haunt him for the rest of his life. Tsukishima has never hated himself as much as he did right then. 

“Fine,” you muttered. “That’s fine. I understand.” 

Tsukishima turned on his heel and silently walked away from you. This was the worst thing he had ever done. If he’s ever believed that there was any good in him before, now he was certain there was none. 

Tsukishima tried to convince himself that it was the right thing to do. If you hated him, it would be easier for you to move on. You would be free. You’d be better off without him. He’s never been any good for you in the first place anyway. He couldn’t give you what you deserved. 

It’s been three weeks since that evening. Tsukishima had become angrier, more bitter. He could tell from the way his teammates walked on eggshells around him. Kageyama wasn’t snarky with him and Hinata brushed off his back handed comments. Bokuto had tried reaching out to him, odd as that was. Daichi and Sugawara had tried to talk to him too, but he brushed them off. He knew they all meant well, but they wouldn’t be able to make it go away anyway. There was no grace in heaven for someone like him. 

Tsukishima only ever saw you in the halls. When Yamaguchi made excuses not to walk home with him after practice, Tsukishima knew he was going to meet with you. He tried to tell himself it didn’t bother him. Maybe you and Yamaguchi would fall in love. The thought made his chest tight and his throat burn, but Yamaguchi was better for you than he could ever be. It wouldn’t be so bad. It didn’t bother him. It was better this way— or at least, that’s what he told himself. 

But it did bother him. All of it did. It bothered Tsukishima that Yamaguchi got to look at you, hear your laughter, walk you home, and do all these things with you that Tsukishima would never get to do again. It bothered him that you would never look at him without sadness in your eyes ever again. It bothered him that he knew he would never love anyone else, because he would rather be lonely than hurt anyone again— than hurt like this again. 

Tonight, it bothered Tsukishima that his hands were cold. He shoved his hands as deep in his pockets as he could. He thought about stepping inside Coach Ukai’s store for a bit, maybe warming his hands and belly with a meat bun. But even as he was a good distance away from the store, Tsukishima could already hear the bellowing laughter of his teammates. He knew that if he stepped inside, the laughter would slowly quiet down and they would start throwing him these sympathetic looks. He didn’t want to spoil their fun. So he kept walking. 

Tsukishima kept his eyes trained on the road in front of him. The music streaming in from his headphones blocked out pretty much most of the sounds around him, keeping him locked inside his head. That was fine. If he was lucky, a car would come crashing towards him and he wouldn’t be able to notice until it was too late. 

That’s why he didn’t even notice you until you were right in front of him. 

Tsukishima stopped dead in his tracks. Those shoes were very familiar. He looked up at you, his heart thumping in his ears. 

“Hello, Kei,” you said, slowly. The gentleness of your voice took him aback. Tsukishima spent many late nights imagining what it would be like to run into you for the first time since the breakup. He imagined you would either completely ignore him, or yell at him. He wasn’t sure which was worse, but he knew for sure that he deserved both from you. He wasn’t expecting this, though. 

“Have you been well?” No, he hasn’t. Tsukishima found himself unable to speak. He averted his gaze, feeling the shame crawl up his spine. Even without looking at you, he knew you would be wringing your hands behind your back— it’s what you did whenever you were nervous. He knew you would have your hair done the same way it’s always been, pushed up your forehead with a ribbon and falling down your shoulders. He knew exactly how beautiful you would be, even under the dim yellow light of the street lamp. And most of all, he knew there would be tears in your eyes. So, no matter how much he wanted to meet your gaze, he didn’t. 

“Alright then,” you conceded after a few seconds without a reply from Tsukishima. “It was nice seeing you, Kei.” 

You stepped sideways in an effort to avoid him, but as you walked past, Tsukishima’s arm shot out. His hand desperately wrapped around your wrist. He hated how much it reminded him of how you did the same thing the night you broke up. His heart had risen up to his throat, and he felt like he was going to vomit. Tsukishima couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he didn’t want you to leave. 

“I haven’t,” he croaked. “I haven’t been well.” 

You looked up at him, surprised. Tsukishima’s cheeks burned, suddenly feeling silly for acting on impulse. He let go of your wrist. “I’m sorry,” he said, finally looking at you. “I don’t know what came over me.” 

“It’s alright..” you said, slowly. “I haven’t been well, either.” 

Looking at you hurt him. You looked so small and fragile, standing in front of him with that look on your face. It made his chest constrict, and he hated that he was the reason you looked so downcast. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. Before he knew it, his feet propelled him forward, carrying him away from you. Apparently, this was all he knew how to do. Walk away. 

Tsukishima couldn’t sleep that night. He tossed and turned, replaying every second of your earlier interaction in his head. The image of you, small and vulnerable in front of him, was burned into the back of his eyelids. He couldn’t stand seeing how he’d hurt you. But somehow, he couldn’t stop picturing it. Part of him knew he needed to make it right, that he needed to apologize. An even bigger part wanted to take it all back. To beg for your forgiveness, to say, screw it— everything’s just no good without you. And if you would still have him, he would do everything in his power to deserve you. 

But he knew he had no right to do any of that. Tsukishima sat up and put his head in his hands. This must be what going crazy feels like. 

Tsukishima pulled on a hoodie, and made his way downstairs. He slipped into his sneakers, convincing himself he’d just go for a walk. Only to clear his head. But he’s never really been good at convincing himself. Before he knew it, his feet were taking him down a familiar path. One he’d walked countless times before. And he couldn't seem to stop. He only did when he came up right at your door. 

“Kei, it’s two in the morning,” you swung the door open, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Tsukishima looked at you, and it occurred to him that he didn’t know the right words to say. 

“It’s cold tonight, huh,” he said, shoving his hands sheepishly into his pockets. 

“Yeah…” you answered, rubbing your arms to keep warm. 

“It’s been like this ever since that day,” Tsukishima continued, nodding to himself. “Cold as winter, every single day. I mean, not literally, but like, that’s how it felt…” he couldn’t believe what he was saying. He shouldn’t be here. But it’s too late to turn back now. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “That’s how it felt to not have you in my life.” 

“Kei…” tears were welling up in your eyes. 

“And I’m sorry,” Tsukishima continued. “I’m sorry for everything that I said. I didn’t mean any of it.” He took a deep breath. 

“Then why—” 

“I was terrified.” Tsukishima could feel the wind brushing against his face and pulled his hood up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look this vulnerable. 

“I love you so much,” his voice was soft. “The stars pale in comparison to how much I do.” His breath hitched, and he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. “And I didn’t think I was good enough for you.” Tsukishima chuckled bitterly. “I was right.” 

“Oh, Kei..” you reached out for him, taking his face in your hands. It was the first time you’d ever seen the great Tsukishima Kei cry. “I’ll spend the rest of my life being sorry that I hurt you,” he whispered. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend every day making it up to you.” There was no place in heaven for someone like him. But damn it, Tsukishima would do his best to earn his place with you. 

[sunnie-scribbles]

𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 | 𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮

tags. angst, fluff, probably a few errors here and there

notes. i had a bad day, and if you read this, you’ll probably know why. i wrote this for self comfort, so if you needed some of that today, here you go.

“How are you?”

There isn’t much energy in you to shrug or even a hum to spare. Your body, all worn out and limp from crying, is caged in Bokuto’s arms. His chest rises and falls against your back, you heart thumping along with his. Before you know it, breathing feels a little easier.

At least for now.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?”

No answer, but the silence tells Bokuto what he needs to know.

“Do you wanna hear a story?”

Nothing.

You wouldn’t mind a story, but your throat is dry as bread. Even if you wanted to say something, you couldn’t. The thought of even trying to speak sends a burn down your throat.

“Once upon a time there was a boy,” Bokuto paints the picture with a teasing smiling as he squeezing you closer to him, “he was the sparkliest boy in the world. You could almost say he was kinda like the sun,”

You could snort if you had it in you. The story’s about him, you can tell. He always gets ahead of himself like a boulder bowling down a steep hill.

“He was happy, not a lot going on in his mind, actually,” He laughs at his own stab at himself. “Except for his love for the wind in his face while he ran and the fleeting feeling of freedom that came along with it. He didn’t have many friends, but he was okay with it. Those feelings were enough for him…”

“But just like the sun, the boy was alone and it wasn’t long till he realized that while he was up there, admiring his freedom, everyone else was enjoying their time with each other…The boy, even having no other friends, had been forgotten.”

You turn you head and look over your shoulder, your lips curl down. You look at him apologetically, but he still continues;

“So the boy came down and tried to join the others,” He continued, a hollow sigh leaves his lips, “and he tried to make friends, really, he did. He did his best, but because he’s like the sun, people burned out and faded rather quickly. Sometimes even too quickly.”

“For a while he hid his light; the boy thought that maybe if he died it down just a little, then maybe people wouldn’t fade away so easily.”

Your heart squeezes. You’re not enjoying the story anymore, and you don’t understand the point of it. But it’s Bokuto, so there should be some point to it.

Another sigh slips Bokuto’s lips, long and heavy, and it tickles the back of your neck causing your hair to stand on it’s ends. He holds you a little closer - as if you both aren’t close enough - and brushes his nose on the line of you neck and taking in your natural scent.

He’s needy, you can feel it in the way his fingers dig into your sides.

You feel his lips brush against the exposed patch of your skin near the neck-hole of your shirt when he speaks once more, “But his efforts were lame and in the end, he was still alone. He was alone and even more unhappy than before…”

You finally twist around, grunting a little as Bokuto raises his arm. He waits for you to settle into his chest before bringing it back around your waist.

You frown at him, disappointedly.

“This is a terrible story,” You croak. You feel the burn from finally talking, but your pain escapes your boyfriend as he laughs a little too heartily. “I was gonna be nice and - and wait for the good bits, but the good bits aren’t coming at all. Bo, what’s this story about?”

Bokuto smiles that usual smile as he looks down at you. He quickly pecks a kiss to your forehead before pulling you against him and speaking again;

“The boy that he failed.”

“Bo - ”

“He thought to give up,” Bokuto presses on, ignoring you attempt to argue. “Just as the boy was about to go back, to settle in his loneliness, he met a girl. Oh, yeah, a total plot twist there, right?”

You snorted.

He’s referring to you.

“She was a really pretty girl,” Bokuto informs, swooning. “No - she was beautiful. The boy never met a girl as beautiful as her; her laugh was his favorite tune and when she smiled - shit, well, he just knew he’d do everything in his god given right to see it again,”

“You’re a clever one,” You muse, snuggling into the soft fabric of his worn out sweater.

“But he was scared,” Bokuto says, ignoring your comment. “He thought that maybe she’s burn out and fade away, too. So the little boy lowered his light and kept himself on his toes, never truly revealing who he really was and what he was really like.”

“And this angered the girl,” You butt in. You pull away enough to get a good look at Bokuto. He had his brows, bushy and well kept, arched at you in surprise. “She was offended that everyone else had been blessed to see the sun shine while she was kept in the dark. So she did everything she could to see it.”

“The boy caught on and became extra careful,” Bokuto says.

“And this only encouraged the girl,”

“It was a cat and mouse chase, a push and pull til the string finally snapped and the boy gave in.” Bokuto looks at you with a grin on his lips before pressing another kiss on the crown of your head. He keeps you like that, his lips brushing against your hairline, “But still, he was scared and wondered when she’d leave…But as more time past and thr brighter he glowed, she only drew closer - closer and closer til the space between them had completely diminished.”

“The end?”

“You gave me a beginning,” Bokuto pulls away and looks at you with such great admiration. “You let me feel what it feels like to be seen and heard, and to be love whole-heartedly. So, no, we’re only at the beginning…”

“You gave me so much,” Your name falls off his lips so smoothly with such love and ease. It’s your favorite thing in the world. “So in return, I’ll give you all I’ve got. I’ll give you the light you need in your bad days, mkay?”

“You’re cheesy, you know?” You narrow your eyes mockingly. “You coulda just said that instead of the whole story,”

“Yeah, but when you told me you had that fight with your mom and you wish you hadn’t been born –” Bokuto cuts himself off, taking a deep breath as if finishing that sentence would absolutely break him, “ – I just needed you to know that if it hadn’t been for you, I would kept myself in the dark…I woulda never continued with volleyball, yunno? So, from now on, Imma tell you this story every time you make that stupid wish.”

Bokuto pulls you in for a hug when he sees you welling up. He hugs you tightly, desperately - like he’s trying to physically pull you back together. You can feel his chest rumbling beneath the palms of your hands as he tries to supress a cry.

“I’m gonna remind you every single time - all the damn time. You hear me?”

You nod. “I hear you, Bo,” You sniffle, “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t ever wanna hear you say shit like that again, okay? I don’t like it, its scary to me.”

You nod, obediently. “I promise, I won’t.”

You can’t promise you’ll stop your thoughts - ironically enough, it has a mind of your own. But just for him, even if it shouldn’t be, just for Bokuto you’ll try.

[sunnie-scribbles]

i love everything about this pls aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

atsumu’s not going to college.

it’s not what he wants, and it’s not a requirement for his plans for the future. he has a one track road set for going pro in the volleyball industry, and he has no plans for detours slowing him down.

that was always “the plan”, and you were not part of it — you were always going to college, and you were going to spend the full time there making sure your future’s on the right track.

that’s why he broke up with you.

the two years he spent with you throughout high school gone down the drain the second he decided this would be better for him — and he feels like he’s wrong, because he still checks on you when you’re not looking — but atsumu’s dead set on the fact that he’ll only slow you down if he kept you with him.

or so, until now.

“atsumu, it’s two in the morning.” you tell him, your yawns coming in a drip drop motion as you try to understand what he’s doing in front of you right now.

it’s been two weeks since you last saw him — two weeks since the breakup — two weeks of no calls, texts or even acknowledgements from in between classes or study halls.

but now he’s here, standing on your doorstep, and you’re not really sure if you want him to be.

atsumu tells you, “i have a solution.”

“it’s two in the morning.” you remind him again.

and he only repeats, “i have a solution.”

your eyebrows furrow, “do you want to come inside?”

“no,” he shakes his head, his nose red from the cold, and he tells you, “you have to listen to me.”

you bring your arms up to your chest, not feeling so warm yourself, and you hate that he chose to do on the coldest night of the month.

you tell him, “i can listen to you inside.”

and he only replies, “i have a solution.

and you frown, “so we’re not going inside.”

you have no idea what he’s talking about, all you know is that you’re still upset with him for ghosting you right after breaking up with you, and you’re not sure if you’re ready to forgive him for that yet.

you sigh, “why are you here?”

and he nods, “because i can get a job — i’ll work on the volleyball thing most hours of the day — but whenever i’m free, i can take shifts in the local café near your campus.”

you cut him off, “wait — my campus?”

“yeah,” atsumu nods, “i checked, and they have an opening and i can totally get a job there.”

atsumu? with a job? at a cafe? you can’t even put it to words, but you’re unsure when he visited your campus, unsure why he’s even doing all this in the first place.

“a job?” you raise a brow, “why do you need a job?”

atsumu ignores your question, shivering as the cold hits him, his breath turning white as it leaves his mouth, and he continues, in a frantic fit, “i have a car, it’s for my 20th birthday but my dad agreed he can give it to me early — and i have a lot saved up so there’s that for an apartment too.”

you’ve never seen atsumu be so nervous, you’ve seen him before his games and after his losses, but he’s never looked like this — never looked so worried.

“slow down.” you break through his endless string of sentences, your eyebrows furrowing as you’re still so confused and lost of what’s going on, and you say, “it’s two am.”

atsumu doesn’t respond.

you touch his arm, “have you slept?”

he feels silly — this is the first time you’ve seen him in two weeks and he must look insane to you already. he doesn’t care, he’s tired, he misses you, he’s been missing you for two weeks, and he hasn’t stopped.

atsumu looks at you, “i don’t want to break up with you.”

you stare back at him, blinking profusely as if trying to make of the situation, and your heart softens as easily as it leaps — because you didn’t want to break up with him either.

he still looks frantic, like he’s a second away to pull his hair out, and you’d offer to let him inside the house one more time, but you’ve got a strong feeling that he’d just say no again.

“i have the place, the car, the job — you have college and i’ll have my volleyball — and i know this isn’t what we planned, but i have the solution and i really think we can make this work.” atsumu tells you all of this, a straight (frantic) tone coming through his words, he catches his breath, and he’s ready to talk to you again.

but your eyes are gentle, “what are you talking about?”

he looks at you, like he’s nervous to be looking at you, a huge lump in his throat the he needs to be swallowing down soon since he’s gone too long without speaking — and he’s nervous, because this situation earns him every right to be nervous.

he’s only 20, unsure of every decision he’s making towards his future, but he’s just spent the last two weeks without you, and the first real thing he’s realized is that there’d be nothing worse than that.

the night is cold.

atsumu stares, “will you marry me?”

[sunnie-scribbles]

hello, friend! 

you can call me sunnie! nice to meet ya!

twenty-one and just tryna make my way through. i write (sometimes) and i make art (sometimes), and i just wanted a space to share. hehe! 

i hope you find some space here to make yourself at home.

p.s. you are loved and prayed for!

[sunnie-scribbles]

morning always comes

In sum: Since she was a child, Annie has always felt like she’s been trapped in one long nightmare. But now, with Armin, it feels like the night has passed, and morning has finally come. 

Alternatively: The domestic! Armin x Annie narrative we all deserved jk

Warnings: light spoilers? i guess? no manga spoilers tho hehe

Word count: 950

It’s always the same dream. 

Burnt, yellow skies. Smoke filling the air. The sound of footsteps on roof tops, and the squad leaders barking their orders. Bones crunching. Skulls cracking. And, rising above all that, the screaming. So much screaming. 

This is the sound of humanity fighting. This is the sound of humanity losing. 

But this isn’t her battle.

“Annie, now!” That’s Reiner’s voice. He’s yelling at her to take Marco’s gear off of him. She knows he’s standing next to her, but he sounds so far away. Annie’s throat constricts as she reaches forward towards Marco. 

“Annie, please stop!” He sounds far away, too. She can’t bring herself to look at him as she unbuckles the straps of his ODM gear. “Why? Why?” She’s never heard him sound this frantic before. “Why, Annie, why?” 

Why? She didn’t know, either. This isn’t her battle. 

An apology is lodged in her throat, and it makes her want to gag. He needs to know. He needs to know. 

“I’m sorry, Marco,” she forces it out, but no sound passes from her lips. 

“Can’t we talk about this?” The buckle comes undone, and she yanks his gear away. “Guys, please!” He’s still yelling. Why won’t he stop yelling?   

Bertholdt tugs at her arm, indicating that they needed to go. Annie steps back, and makes the mistake of looking at Marco just before she turns to leave. Her throat constricts and she finds herself fighting back tears. Her hands are trembling and she can barely hold onto her gear. She’s never seen Marco afraid before. In the past, his eyes had always been filled with determination, with kindness, with awe. But never fear. And yet it was the last thing that filled his eyes, right before a mindless titan picked him up. 

Annie’s knees make contact with the terracotta beneath her feet. She clutches her throat, screaming apologies until her breath can no longer support it. But all she hears is Marco’s voice. Her apologies aren’t enough to drown him out. Annie closes her eyes. 

It’s always the same dream. It’s always the same screams. 

When she opens her eyes, Annie finds herself staring at a blank ceiling. Tears are running down her cheeks, yet she makes no effort to wipe them away. The first thing she notices is the quiet. Nobody is screaming. Everything is calm. 

Except for her. 

Annie forces herself up, trying to ignore the thumping of her heart. The next thing she notices is that there are birds chirping right outside her window. It is strange and familiar all at the same time. This feels more like a dream than that nightmare did. Annie sighs and pushes the covers away. Her feet touch the ground with a little thud. She slides into the slippers at the base of her bed, and as she gets up to walk, that’s when she notices it. 

It’s the sound of a wooden spoon, clanking against a metal surface. It’s the hiss of oil frying. It’s the sound of distant chatter, of familiar muffled laughter. And Armin’s voice, rising above it all. A surge of relief runs through her chest and down her spine. That’s right. She’s home. Tears spill from her eyes once more, and Annie finds herself having to sit back down again.

“Annie, it’s morning,” Armin’s voice cuts through the sound of her sobs. As soon as he sees her crumpled on the bed, he rushes forward to hold her. “Hey, hey…” Armin says, sitting next to her and pulling her close. “Hey, it’s morning now, love.” 

Annie feels another bout of tears threatening to spill, so she buries her face into the crook of his neck. He smells like coffee and freshly-cooked eggs. “You smell like a dining hall,” she says, trying to reel in her breaths. Armin chuckles lightly. It’s the best sound Annie has ever heard. “That’s because I was down in the kitchen, making you breakfast,” he says. Armin kisses the top of her head, tightening his grip around her. All at once, Annie realizes that this must be what love and safety feel like. They sit like this for a while, holding each other in comfortable silence. 

“Come on,” Annie sniffles. “I don’t want your effort to go to waste if the food gets cold.”  Armin wipes her tears with the sleeve of his jacket. “Okay,” he says. He takes her hand firmly in his. “You might wanna hop into the bathroom first though. Jean, Conny, and the others have dropped by for breakfast,” he says somewhat apologetically. 

Later that morning, as she listens to her husband laugh at Jean’s retelling of his and Conny’s first night at a pub, Annie notices that she can freely breathe. She’s spent so many years, holding her breath. Holding her breath in anticipation of becoming a warrior. Holding her breath in fear of being discovered. Holding her breath, trapped inside that crystalized prison cell for so long. And when she’d woken, she felt like she was holding her breath again, trying to see if anyone would make it out alive. If she would make it out alive. 

But now, it’s different. Annie can fill her lungs freely with the scent of coffee, and sunshine, and the fresh seaside breeze. The past few years have felt like one long dream. No, like one continuous nightmare. She’d felt trapped in a long, dark night that never gave way to dawn. Yet now, as her eyes rest on Armin, she feels for the first time, like morning has truly come. 

Clear, blue skies. Sunlight pouring in through the windows. The faint sound of a birdsong, being carried by the wind. Friendly chatter, cutlery clattering, and rising above all that, Armin’s laughter. This is the sound of home. 

[sunnie-scribbles]

Okay, since your requests are open (but please feel free to ignore mine or push it to the back of the list, if you don't feel like it): Sugawara x reader “Do you believe in soul mates?” (#9 list 2) and if you want to include more prompts: "Let’s go for a walk." “Its 2 am!” (#25 list 3), “I am so in love with you.” (#17 list 3) and/or “My hand was made to fit into yours. That’s all there is to it.” (#17 fluff list 1). Choose however many or few you feel like!

Hello! I was actually a bit excited about this. I hope this was what you wanted.

In Every Lifetime.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

“My hand was made to fit in yours. There’s all there is to it.”

“I am so in love with you.” 

Pairing: Sugawara x gn!reader

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Sugawara keeps his eyes locked onto the night sky as you take a stroll around the neighborhood. A smile creeps on his lips as he reflects on your question. “I just — The universe is so big and wide, and to think we’re just a couple of dots wandering around…Do you really think two souls can be just bound together?”

“Kinda sounds like divine intervention, doesn’t it?” He turns his head to look at you, love glimmering in his eyes beneath one of the many florescent lamp posts you walk by.

Truth be told, Sugawara doesn’t know he believes in soulmates. He’s met a myriad of people so far in his lifetime; he’s met some that’ve crawled under his skin and picked at his patience like scab. But the rest — the majority — he’s fallen in love with whether it be platonically or not. To him, the thought of having just one person out of loads of people sardined in this little world — well, it escapes him.

He notices the frown on your face when he takes too long to give you an answer, so he takes it as his cue. “I’m not entirely sure,” He honestly says.

“Don't you think of me as your soulmate?” You abruptly halt, staying beneath the warm glow of the lamplight. You spin on the balls of your feet, jutting you lip out just a smidge as you narrow your eyes at your poor boyfriend who grows flustered in every passing second. “Wouldn’t you come find me in every life?”

“Why is this so important to you, hmm?” Sugawara chuckles at you and childish you look pouting right in front of him with your fists balled tight, and your foot rhythmically tapping against the pavement. 

“Because I know you’re mine,” You tell him confidently, and his heart swells at the declaration. “ You're my soulmate, you're the only one tethered to my heart. There’s no one else for me, just you, really...And I’d look for you in every life time.”

“You’d travel across the stars for me?” He asks you in disbelief, and you’re almost offended that he is.

“I’d travel throughout every universe, all of time and space, just to look for you.” You tell him.

A soft red dusts over his cheeks as he gazes at you with his heart in his eyes. He feels so lucky, so loved by someone so special and amazing as you.

He props his hands over your cheeks, pulling you close to press a kiss of the crown of your head before sliding this hands down to the sides of your arms and taking your hands in his.

“I’d like to think we’re something much more magical than soulmates,” Sugawara’s warm breath fans over your face, smelling like spearmint candy. He weaves his fingers between yours, “Do you feel that?” He asks, looking down to your hands and you mirror the action. “My hand was made to fit yours, there’s all there is to it.”

You lean your forehead against his; “Damn it, Koshi,” You whine breathily, a soft smile painting across your lips. “I am so in love with you.”

send me a request!