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[akasgisrightsactivist]

You can always trust Micchi to take something as mundane as returning a chair at Ikea and write a fic about it 😂

“I suppose this is a drabble” *writes 1k words*

Honestly this was so nice to read! Lighthearted and soft, particularly at the end (I wasn’t expecting that ending!)

I think you portray Ushijima’s personality so well, his way of doing things, his stubbornness, his unique vision of life. You wouldn’t expect an Olympic athlete to be so chill about missing practice to return a chair at Ikea but yes, indeed Ushijima would be the one to do it 😂

As usual, I love your descriptions, creating a vivid environment and explaining a lot about the characters through those small but meaningful details.

Ushijima looked down at the car keys you had handed him, his hand forming a tight fist around the object as he carefully placed it into his coat pocket and zipped up the compartment.

I don’t know why I imagined this as a super dramatic shounen scene with the protagonist closing his hand around an object that belonged to his now dead friend and the protagonist promises to avenge him hahaha 

He had lived his whole life thinking that if he wanted something, he’d have to be the one to see it through to completion.

But seeing you stand in front of him in this very moment and taking his place in the queue…

He laughed and lightly shook his head. So strength and support can come in so many forms, after all.

This is so wholesome and made me smile so much :’) Seeing Ushijima change his view of life as he learns and contrasts his point of view with other people’s... it’s just so nice.

AND THE CINNAMON ROLL HAD ME SMILING LIKE AN IDIOT. And Reader like “you want another one” HAHAHA

Secretly I wish that Reader had said “I already have a cinnamon roll, it’s you”

I just think that if we see ushijima at ikea he should buy us a cinnamon scroll

Ask and you shall receive 🤩

Ekedalen | Ushijima Wakatoshi 

Ushijima just wanted to return a chair at ikea. (wc: 927)

Ushijima x gn!Reader; fluff. I suppose this is a drabble 🤔

“You’re going to take how long?” 

Ushijima lowered his phone and turned over to the flatscreen TV mounted to the pillar in the center of the room.

“The estimated time before an agent can help me is estimated to be two hours,” he explained, kicking a foot up to rest against the metal bars at the bottom of the cart as he leaned down onto the handle. 

A heavy sigh broke out from the other end of the phone and Ushijima tilted his head to his left ever so slightly in curiosity. “Is something the matter, (f/n)?” he asked. Perhaps you were annoyed that you had to wait? “You can head home first. I’ll call you when I can go,” he added on. 

He could hear the sound of the engine cutting out, followed quickly by a loud click of the seatbelt and the opening and successive slamming shut of a car door. 

“No, the problem is that you have to be at practice in an hour,” you huffed, your footsteps loudly pacing in the background. “You can’t be returning some ekeleto—”

“Ekedalen.”

Your footsteps came to an abrupt halt, and Ushijima turned around to face the parking lot entrance, his eyes scanning his visual field in search of you. You had sounded like you had a clear destination in mind from your footsteps— could it be that you were lost and had to stop to read the signs overhead?

“Ekedalen?” came your response moments after, confusion laced into your voice. 

Ushijima turned over and glanced down at the label on the side of the cardboard box sitting in front of him on the shopping cart. He nodded in confirmation, letting out a hum as he did so. “Yes, Ekedalen. That’s the name of the chair I am returning right now.”

“Right... As I was saying, you can’t be returning some Ekedalen instead of making it on time to practice.” 

You had a good point — the Olympics would take place in as little as three months. Attending every single practice was of utmost importance, for not only was it training to condition both the mind and the body for the trials ahead, it also served to strengthen the bond of the players who now had to work as a team after having spent so long on opposite sides of the court. 

He turned his head around to look back over at the entrance, and raised a hand up into the air when he spotted you to catch your attention. 

As good of a point you had made, there were simply things that had to be done. His gaze trailed back down to the boxes in front of him, the numbers on the side marking off the order in which they were to be built. It was a shame that the dining chair didn’t fit the height of his table, but it was, at the end of the day, a fault of his own, and he was determined to see through to the end of his task. He wasn’t one to leave things half-finished.  

He heard a click from his phone as you hung up on the call, and he watched as you sprinted over to where he stood — one hand clutching onto a black object in a tight fist with the other shoving your phone into your jacket pocket. 

With your hair disheveled and your chest heaving up and down as you panted to catch your breath, you shoved your car keys into his hands and pointed over to the sliding double doors that you had come in from. 

“I parked at spot E4,” you told him, pushing him out of the line and stepping into his spot with your hand gripped onto the handle bar. “Just drive over to practice. I’ll take the train back.” 

Ushijima looked down at the car keys you had handed him, his hand forming a tight fist around the object as he carefully placed it into his coat pocket and zipped up the compartment. 

Olive green eyes trailed back up to stare quietly at your face, watching as you brushed back the hair that had fallen out of place from your earlier dash. 

He had always tried to do everything properly in order to achieve his goals. He had worked hard to become the ace of his school teams, trained to make it onto the National team, and remained vigilant in polishing his skills even when he made it to the final stage. He had lived his whole life thinking that if he wanted something, he’d have to be the one to see it through to completion. 

But seeing you stand in front of him in this very moment and taking his place in the queue... 

He laughed and lightly shook his head. So strength and support can come in so many forms, after all.

“You’re going to be late,” you fretted, waving a hand in his direction as you tried to chase him off. “Iwaizumi is going to have your head if you show up late.” 

“I have a question.” 

You sighed again, and quirked up an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. 

“Can I buy you a cinnamon roll as thanks?” 

Because just as he could always count on you, he wanted to be able to support you in his own way as well. 

“You just want one yourself, don’t you,” you laughed, noting the way that the corner of the man’s lips had pushed up as you nodded. “Yes please, I would love a cinnamon roll.”

Taglist  @hidden-otaku-stuff​, @turquoiselace​, @neonghxst​, @edvigelacivetta​, @catharsisbabey​, @honey-makki​, @aprettyfruit​, @wisepandaslimeland​, @atsunflower​, @kkoalaworld​, @caeneri​, @celosiiaa​, @akasgisrightsactivist​, @owlywrites​, @tsumue​, @mehreya

[akasgisrightsactivist]

Hi i just came here to say

You akaashi fic is TRULY AMAZING LIKE I CANT LITERALLY FIND THE WORDS TO EXPRESS IT AKSBWKSB

<3

Hi! OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TAKING THE TIME TO SEND THIS. AND ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REBLOG AND COMMENT, IT MADE ME VERY HAPPY AND I’M GLAD YOU LIKE IT!!

[akasgisrightsactivist]

hello, i just read your imagine 'give me your hand' with atsumu and i loved it 💞 i wanted to ask if there will be a part 2 maybe? 🙈 have a great day and bye bye 😘

Hi! Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it!

Yes! It’s an old fic I posted in a previous blog and it was a full trilogy, I will post part 2 if there’s enough interest in it!

[akasgisrightsactivist]

Bloodied Lips

[Akaashi x fem!Reader] [Hurt/comfort] [Word count: 4.3k]

What do Akaashi’s bloodied lips taste like after he fought for your honor?

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, injuries / wounds, strangulation / asphyxia 

A/n: This happens somewhere between his first and second year of high school. I think everyone loses their cool at some point, and I wanted to explore that situation for Akaashi. This ended up being more autobiographical than I expected.

You found him hiding in the darkness of the club’s locker room.

As the opening door let in the light from outside, it revealed the bloodied lip, a red stain trailing down his chin. That detail was enough to make your heart rush inside your chest.

Keep reading

[akasgisrightsactivist]

ELE HIIII!!! Omg it’s so nice to see you back 🥺🥺 I hope you’re doing well❤️❤️ Imma stalk ur masterlist after I finish work lol!! anyways take care💞

TRIS HELLO!!! How are you? I hope you’ve been okay and hope that work isn’t too stressful for you!! Thank you for following me back!

[akasgisrightsactivist]

Give Me A Hand

[Atsumu x fem!Reader] [Fluff] [Word count: 3.7k]

You asked him to give you his hand, he asked you to tell him the truth.

A/n: This is a reworked version of the Give Me A Hand fic I posted at ohmythatmiya months ago. I didn’t change the plot, but I edited and changed the wording of several parts. Minor changes, but I think the result is better. I also added a bonus that didn’t exist in the original.

“I need someone to hold the net. Give me a hand, (y/n)-chan?”

Atsumu’s melodic question danced around in the air waiting for your answer.

As the manager of the Inarizaki volleyball team, you were always eager to help the boys in any way they needed. It wasn’t the first time you helped the team hang the net, and the act itself posed no problem to you.

But you had an ongoing competition with Atsumu to see who made the worst joke. Extending your hand, you offered it to him.

You had to.

After a second of confused blinking, Atsumu burst into laughter.

“Ha! You laughed!” You pointed out smugly, another victory to tally up.

Atsumu cleaned a tear at the corner of his eye, sighing in contentment.

“So what? You always laugh at my jokes. I’m still winning the competition, (y/n)-chan.”

You pouted —he wasn’t wrong. So far this week, you’d made him laugh with two jokes, but he had succeeded in his puns at least five times —which Atsumu claimed to actually be six, but you refused to count that one time you almost choked trying to contain your laughter.

He slapped your hand playfully and said:

“Now help me out here, will ya?”

You nodded, hissing at the sting on your hand.

Atsumu had a hard time controlling his strength when it came to you. He was a huge guy and was used to slapping, high-fiving and sharing other physical gestures of victory and encouragement with Osamu and teammates. You knew that Atsumu didn’t intend to hurt you, and he was still trying to measure the difference between your strength, as an average student, and his, as an athletic guy aiming to be a pro player. One of the first times after he joined the volleyball club, he had slapped your back encouragingly only to leave you without breath.

But this time you didn’t say anything, the sting already fading —you knew he was trying to control himself while interacting with you, and also… you loved it when he treated you as another full member of the team, even if you didn’t play volleyball. Other guys were more careful with you, either out of respect because you were a third-year or because they considered you a delicate person when it came to physical strength. However, Atsumu wouldn’t shy away from high-fiving you too when he scored a really good point. Kita thought it was insolent of him to treat a senpai that way, but you secretly loved it, treasuring any attention and physical contact you got from him.

You swore to yourself that wanting his attention had nothing to do with your embarrassing crush on him.

But you’d hate to become one of those girls in the Miya Twins Fanclub who screamed hysterically during every match or who sought the twins’ attention in the corridors between classes. You hated that kind of behavior, maybe because you knew the real twins and their actual personalities instead of idealizing them, so you acted around Atsumu as if his presence in your life had no effect whatsoever, keeping your feelings inside.

You just wished he would see you in the same way you saw him, and you wondered how you could get more physical contact from him —not in the way his teammates did, but ideally in a softer way that didn’t leave the palms of your hands stinging.

You blushed thinking about it.

This was why you had started giving him your hand as a joke, in the hopes that he would somehow take it. But so far your plan had failed.

Your next attempt came at the end of that day’s practice. It was when you were putting the balls away that you asked Atsumu if he could give you a hand.

“Sure. …Why are you pouting, (y/n)-chan?”

He had completely forgotten about the joke, hadn’t he? You had expected him to replicate your joke and hold out his hand to you so that you could shamelessly take it, but he had simply agreed to help you. You didn’t even need any help! This was the first time you’d ever seen Atsumu agreeing to help anyone!

“…nothing,” you finally answered in a low grumble.

“Wha’? What did I do now?!”

“Nothing!”

You couldn’t help acting weird around him now, and he looked at you puzzled at your sudden change of behavior. You couldn’t blame him, but how could you admit your feelings to him? That’d be like losing a challenge! Unacceptable!

The following days you kept flinging the joke at any chance you got, which only made Atsumu increasingly more confused. You noticed how often he asked for your help (“hey, (y/n)-chan, can you hold my bag for a sec?”, “can you help me with this English lesson?”, “take care of my sweater, (y/n)-chan”) and you would force the joke (“yeah, let me give you a hand, Atsumu!”).

Until he had enough of it one day.

“The heck is wrong with you?” Atsumu asked, his lips pressed into a thin line, staring into your eyes in a vain quest for answers as he held a volleyball under his arm.

“Nothing, why?” You laughed nervously.

“You’ve been acting weird. You never repeat your jokes so much. They aren’t even funny anymore!”

“Uh…”

“Let me guess.” Atsumu rubbed his chin. “There’s a guy annoying you, right?”

“What.”

You couldn’t understand what kind of mental juggling had led him to that conclusion, but Atsumu was that way, often following unconventional mental paths.

“You’ve been acting so weird, you only do that when something’s bothering you.”

Since when did this guy notice your behavior with so much accuracy? You felt your stomach tighten.

If you said “yes” you’d be lying to him, but you couldn’t find a better excuse and, of course, telling the truth wasn’t an option.

“Who do I need to fight, (y/n)-chan?”

“There’s… there’s no need to fight anyone, Atsumu.”

Your hands fidgeted, wrinkling the hem of your shirt. You felt utterly ridiculous for taking the joke so far just to get his attention. What were you, five years old? Not even his fangirls would do this!

“You want me to walk you home, then?”

The seriousness in his face made you feel a pang in your chest. You could swear there was a hint of worry in his eyes.

You were so in love with him right now.

It hurt that you couldn’t be with him, that he wouldn’t like you in the same way, that you would never hold hands with him no matter how much you longed to do so… But the opportunity presented itself and you’d be the biggest idiot on earth if you let it pass, so you nodded.

“Yeah, that’d help, I think.”

“Fine,” he replied, and gave it no second thought as he returned to his practice.

You sighed in relief, thanking destiny for finding for you a credible excuse to justify your shitty joke. But immediately the thought of him walking you back home released a horde of butterflies in your stomach.

Don’t ruin this opportunity, you told yourself. Don’t make a fool of yourself.

When practice ended you waited by the gym door, wondering if Atsumu would remember his promise. It wouldn’t be the first time he totally forgot to do something after swearing so vehemently that he would never forget.

After a couple minutes Atsumu joined you at the door, wearing his tracksuit and carrying his heavy bag on the shoulder.

“Let’s not be late, don’t wanna miss my favorite TV show.”

The sun was setting already as the two of you crossed the school gates on your way home.

“Thank you for walking with me.”

“So who’s this guy who’s bothering you?”

Right to the point. You gulped.

“Uh… I’d rather not talk about it, Atsumu.”

“He trying to date you or something?”

You glanced at Atsumu and were shocked to see his eyebrows furrowed. He seemed upset.

“Atsumu?”

“Is he?”

“No, of course not! Who would want to date me anyway?” You laughed nervously, scratching the back of your neck.

Atsumu’s silence surprised you. By the way he pressed his lips, it was clear he was considering whether to say something or not. Right when you gave up on getting an answer from him, Atsumu said:

“There’s this guy in your class who keeps staring at you.”

“Wait, what.”

“Yeah, that idiot who sits by the door, what’s his name.”

“Wait. You’ve noticed him looking at me?” You asked out of pure curiosity. You’d never noticed your classmate staring at you before.

That was when a cough got stuck in Atsumu’s throat.

“I mean…! It’s not like I’m looking at who’s looking at you!”

You were taken aback by the way the underlying angry tone emphasized the hesitation in his voice. He was getting flustered and you couldn’t understand what was going on, but your own nerves didn’t help you deal with the situation either.

There was a long moment of silence in which both of you tried to find what to say next, opening your mouths only to close them again. You felt like you were digging a deeper hole each time you spoke and you were afraid that Atsumu would end up fighting that guy in your class when you hadn’t even noticed he was paying attention to you, so you came to the conclusion that it was better to remain in a careful silence.

Yet there was a voice in your mind calling you a coward for not ending this situation right now and letting it get worse.

“To be honest, Atsumu…” You finally said, bracing yourself for the worst. “I haven’t really noticed if that guy was staring at me,” you admitted, voice low, eyes fixed on the street ahead.

“Well, I have,” he muttered, still angry.

You two kept walking in silence, avoiding each other’s eyes. You could swear he was pouting by the way he stomped his feet as he walked, hands hidden in his pockets.

Atsumu was so difficult to handle sometimes. He got upset at the pettiest things and sometimes it was impossible to find any logic behind his behavior. Right now you didn’t know what to say to calm him down.

“Then who’s bothering you,” he finally asked, so low you almost didn’t hear him.

“No one.”

“But something’s bothering you, (y/n)-chan, I know it.”

He wouldn’t drop the conversation, would he? You sighed heavily and replied:

“I just repeated that shitty joke because I wanted you to hold my hand! To complete the joke!”

Your cheeks burned, maybe from the childishness of your behavior, maybe from the embarrassment of admitting to Atsumu that you had wanted him to hold your hand.

“Duh.”

“I know, I’m lame.”

“No… there’s something bothering you. You looked sad earlier.”

“No way.”

“Yes, you did. When you think nobody’s looking at you, you stop smiling.”

You stopped on your tracks and he walked a couple more steps before noticing that you weren’t following him. He turned to you, his usual smirk missing from his face.

He was right, and that was what truly hurt you. In front of anyone you would be all smiles, all kindness, but when you were alone you’d drop the act. Lately, when you were at the gym supervising the guys’ practice, you would often focus on Atsumu and your brain would immediately get trapped in the loop of thinking how much you liked everything about him and how you couldn’t be with him. It made you so sad, but who would look at you anyway? All the club members were focused on training and the coaches were paying attention to the guys, not to you.

Of course, whenever Atsumu looked your way, you assumed it was a coincidence, that you were just in the way of something that was really catching his attention.

But apparently he was noticing you after all.

“Aww, you’re blushing, (y/n)-chan!”

You jolted, returning to reality. Of course this idiot would take any opportunity to mock you. Feet rushing ahead, you left him behind, but he quickly caught up with you –it wasn’t difficult considering how much longer the stride of his long legs was compared to yours.

“Let me see that sweet face! So cute! Did I make you blush? Are you blushing for me?” His voice got increasingly more teasing and you tried to walk faster, but it was pointless.

“Shut up, Atsumu!”

“Or what? Are you going to hit me? Nah, you’re too cute to do that, Cutie-chan.”

“Stop it!” You tried to hide your face with your hands.

You could never win with this guy, could you?

“At first I thought you were sad because you’d gotten bad grades, but your results have been good lately. So I thought that guy in your class was annoying you. But that isn’t the case either, so what? What’s making you so sad?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re in love. It has to be that.”

“Shut up!”

Atsumu knew you well. It was something you loved and hated from him at the same time. He was clever, and it didn’t help how predictable you were. Atsumu never had a problem guessing what was going on inside your mind, which could get troublesome at times.

“You always feel so down when you like someone. You’ll be like ‘he will never like me back! My life is a disgrace!’”

“That’s not true!” You argued. You’d been through a couple of short-lived crushes in the past two years and Atsumu had been a witness to your complaints, always giving you bad advice about what to do, being as inept as he was in matters of love.

“It doesn’t help that you’re so unlucky and never attract anyone.”

“That was a low blow, Atsumu…”

“So who’s the lucky guy?”

You glanced at him. Expecting a smirk, you instead found a soft smile. He raised his eyebrows to emphasize his question.

“It doesn’t matter.” You lowered your chin and hid your hands inside your coat’s pockets. “It’s not like it’s gonna happen.”

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that! You don’t know!”

“I will die alone and surrounded by cats,” you grunted, and now you were the one stomping.

“You want some advice?” Atsumu asked, stretching his arms over his head. His back cracked.

“Nah, your advice is the worst. You made me look ridiculous in front of my last crush, in case you’ve forgotten.”

He narrowed his eyes cunningly.

“That was on purpose.”

“The heck?!”

“I hated the guy. He wasn’t a good match for you.”

“Atsumu!”

He was painfully right, though. That last guy had seemed so nice at first, but you’d ruined your friendship with him after an embarrassing confession and you had realized how much of an idiot the guy was. Atsumu had warned you plenty of times that he didn’t like the guy for you but you had ignored him, blind from the love haze that had taken hold of your brain.

Now you understood why Atsumu had given you such bad advice, misleading you and causing the failed confession. And you, naïve as you were, had followed his indications without a second thought.

“You’re a—”

“—a fucking asshole, I know. So, who’s this guy? I’ll give you good advice if I actually like him for you.”

“No way. I’ll never tell you. You’ll ruin it.”

It was the best excuse you could think of to avoid saying the truth because you had always told him about your crushes before, and it would be suspicious if you didn’t tell him now.

“Is he handsome?”

“Very handsome,” you answered as casually as you could manage, when deep inside you just wanted to scream for hours about how much you liked every physical feature of his.

“Then you must be thinking you don’t stand a chance,” he teased you.

“I wouldn’t stand a chance anyway. He’s handsome and popular.”

“Ah, but that’s not the only thing you like about him. You’re always like ‘oh, I love his personality’,” he mocked your voiced.

“Nah, his personality is shitty.”

You couldn’t control yourself. You didn’t really believe that, but sometimes he got on your nerves.

Atsumu’s smirk widened.

“You should confess, (y/n)-chan.”

“Nah. I’m tired of confessing and looking ridiculous.”

“So you’re gonna let an opportunity pass just like that?”

“There’s no opportunity in the first place.”

“You’re the worst sometimes, (y/n)-chan,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?!”

“And now you’ll be so sappy, talking all the time about how much you want to be with him and kiss him and all that disgusting stuff,” he replied, his teasing tone back.

You groaned.

“I just wanna hold his hand, that’s all,” you mumbled, and immediately regretted saying it. What if he had heard you? What if he realized that the joke had always been about this?

What if he realized he was your crush?

But he didn’t say anything else. Silence returned to stay between you like a thick wall, and you walked with your head downcast and a feeling of regret and shame growing bigger inside you until it made your stomach hurt.

Worst case scenario, if Atsumu learned that you liked him, he would mock you to no end in front of everyone. He would have no shame to make you feel like shit in public just to get a good laugh. Or even worse, he would stop talking to you altogether. How would you even keep your role as manager in the team if he hated you? How would…?

“Waaaaait. Dude, is that drink new?” Atsumu said.

You were right in front of the convenience store in your neighborhood, and since Atsumu lived in a different direction, he didn’t frequent this particular store that was so well-known to you. He gaped at the window full of drinks and sweets and it dawned on you that the store nearest to Atsumu’s house was less visually attractive. Like a kid in front of a colorful screen, he admired the display, his mouth wide open.

“Come’ere, (y/n)-chan,” he said.

You were about to follow him unquestioningly when you noticed his fingers wrapping around your hand and gently pulling you in his direction.

On the outside, as you two went into the store, you seemed a perfectly calm and collected high-school third-year following his friend into the building to check out a drink.

On the inside, you had stopped being aware of your surroundings, and you were mentally screaming and feeling like a human version of a computer breaking down and going into full blue-screen-of-death mode. The only thing keeping you in touch with reality was Atsumu’s hand, warm and reassuring, even if the skin in his fingers felt somewhat dry and rough after being punished practice after practice.

But you loved it just like that. You loved his experienced and calloused hands, and how comforting they felt. This was a new experience that you committed to memory.

“It’s cherry flavored!”

His excited, almost childish voice brought you back to the sober and unromantic reality of a neighborhood convenience store. You were sure you had forgotten how to breathe in the last half minute.

“You… buy that… gonna. Buy,” you babbled, and it wasn’t physically possible for your cheeks to be even redder anymore.

Atsumu mocked your babble and you laughed hysterically.

“And that makes seven times you laugh at my jokes this week.”

“Shaddap,” you said, still speaking incoherently.

“You want one too?” He said, holding the can of soda in front of your eyes.

“No. Yes.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He walked you to the cash register and you noticed he was skillfully holding both cans with a single hand because he was still holding yours with the other. He found some money in his pocket and paid for the drinks, never mentioning that you should pay yours.

You took the can and Atsumu guided you outside the store and back to your house, not letting your hand go at any moment. You two didn’t talk, and you didn’t even bother to open the can to drink it, or that would mean letting go of his hand.

Two streets later you arrived to your house, and you had no choice but to stop holding his hand to find your keys, open the door and say goodbye. It took you two tries to fit the key inside the keyhole because your hands were shaking so much, and you heard the pop of Atsumu’s soda can opening behind you. When the door finally opened and you turned around to say goodbye to him, he was taking a sip but his eyes were fixed on you, analyzing you with curiosity.

“Thank you, Atsumu.”

“You already thanked me earlier, silly.”

“Yeah. Anyway. For the drink too.”

“Wait, aren’t you gonna pay for it?”

Flustered, your heat beating like mad from embarrassment, you immediately babbled an apology, but he burst into laughter.

“Just kidding, (y/n)-chan.”

You sighed in relief. A friendship with this guy was a constant rollercoaster, and you were sure you were training your heart like an athlete just from the many scares and embarrassing moments that this guy put you through.

At least you never got bored with him.

“Maybe one day you’ll hold hands with your crush. For now, you’re gonna have to do with just me.” He took another sip, this time only to pretend to be a cool guy.

You smiled fondly. When he lowered the drink from his lips, you noticed an upward curve on the corner of his mouth.

“Enjoy your drink, (y/n)-chan. See you tomorrow.”

“Rest well, Atsumu.”

His steps echoed as he walked away from your house and you forgot for a full minute that the door was already open next to you.

For now, you’re gonna have to do with just me.

You almost choked on a giggle. If only he knew.

BONUS

“Dude, ‘Samu, (y/n) has a crush on me.”

Atsumu kicked his socks away, falling in the messy pile of clothes that kept growing at the corner of their shared bedroom.

“You wished she did,” Osamu replied, words muddied by the snack he was munching.

“’Samu!”

[akasgisrightsactivist]

PAUSE AND READ

The publishing company Shueisha is putting a lot of effort into taking down copyrighted material (mainly manga). This company publishes most titles in Shounen Jump and the Jump + digital releases. They also have the rights to Naruto, Bleach and the Dragon Ball series. 

Here’s an outline of the new law Japan put in place:

So fan artists and fic writers are fine. HOWEVER, on twitter several people have all ready had tweets deleted and accounts locked for posting photos/gifs from Shueisha manga. 

If you’re still wondering how serious it is, they filed a DMC claim against their own employee who was posting their own artwork from one of the Dragon Ball games.

Here’s a list of the manga Shueisha publish. I’m not trying to scaremonger, I just want people to be aware of what’s going on so they don’t get caught up in any trouble.

[akasgisrightsactivist]

Ah, but you skipped to the next debacle!

Nuanced Nuisance is a drabble 😎

IT'S ONE CHAPTER, IT LITERALLY HAS THE SAME NAME, YOU NAMED THEM "PART 1" AND "PART 2" WHICH IMPLIES IT IS ONE UNIT and you wrote it as a single chapter, you only divided it into two so it would be easier and shorter to read. ATSUMU LIKES SPARKLING WATER. (Sorry for the caps, I got excited)

I DIVIDED IT INTO TWO CHAPTERS AND TECHNICALLY THEY HAVE DIFFERENT NAMES! The difference is in the “part 1” and “part 2” 🤧

And if we go by intent, Nuanced Nuisance was supposed to be a 3-chaptered fiasco 🤧

NOT THE SPARKLING WATER DEBATE AGAIN 😫

[akasgisrightsactivist]

Mockingjay is still the same story even if it's divided into two movies for length, the original source is literally ONE book and it has unity, same as two-part episodes in series, they are only divided because they need to fit a random time slot on tv but the two parts of the episode have unity in theme, setting, etc.

The Grim Reapep's Dance is one chapter, was born as a single chapter with unity within it and you only divided it into two parts for word count reasons, but they are two parts of the same unit, and originally it wasn't intended to be two different chapters

😎

I dunno. I thought of it like one of those two part episodes of a TV show, where they obviously build off each other, but those two are like the climax so like kinda. Or like Phinneas and Ferb (If you've seen that show) where there's two shorter episodes in one, but the opposite. So like if the climax of a movie was divided into two parts. I don't know if I'm helping or sounding confusing lol -music anon

I LOVE PHINEAS AND FERB SO MUCH. I HAVE A MEDIUM SIZED PERRY THE PLATYPUS TSUM TSUM IN MY ROOM! That show had some super good songs honestly 🤧

Ohhh so like you know how The Hunger Games’ Mockingjay got divided into two movies? Kinda like that right? SO TECHNICALLY.... The Grim Reaper’s Dance is two chapters 😎

[akasgisrightsactivist]

Bloodied Lips

[Akaashi x fem!Reader] [Hurt/comfort] [Word count: 4.3k]

What do Akaashi’s bloodied lips taste like after he fought for your honor?

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, injuries / wounds, strangulation / asphyxia 

A/n: This happens somewhere between his first and second year of high school. I think everyone loses their cool at some point, and I wanted to explore that situation for Akaashi. This ended up being more autobiographical than I expected.

You found him hiding in the darkness of the club’s locker room.

As the opening door let in the light from outside, it revealed the bloodied lip, a red stain trailing down his chin. That detail was enough to make your heart rush inside your chest.

Keep reading

[akasgisrightsactivist]

Masterlist

Akaashi Keiji

-Bloodied Lips (Akaashi Keiji x fem!Reader) 

Miya Osamu

TBA

Miya Atsumu

-Give Me A Hand (Miya Atsumu x fem!Reader)

Kuroo Tetsurou

-Fashionably Late (Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader)

[akasgisrightsactivist]

Come Back

Omg look, another Atsumu prompt drabble :O

Haha, guess I’m in an Atsumu mood lately, whoops. But anyway, not sure how I feel bout this one, but I hope you all enjoy! 💕

Miya Atsumu x Reader

Warnings: None - Fluff?? Angst?? Idk?? Soft Atsumu??

Word Count: 379

Prompt: Character A: What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?

Character B: … What do you usually do when I’m gone? 

Character A: Wait for you to come back.

Your eyes followed Atsumu as he walked back and forth across your shared bedroom, grabbing various clothes for the Olympics. Leaving in a few days, you couldn’t help but frown a little bit more, bringing your legs closer to your chest as you sat on the bed. 

Dressed in his Black Jackals jacket, you had it zipped all the way up to the collar. The jacket was big on you, sleeves pass your hands. Burrowing the bottom half of your face in the collar, you took a deep breath of the musky scent that lingered on it. 

Poking your head out, you spoke up, “How long are you going to be gone again?” 

Packing the last of his clothes in the suitcase, Atsumu turned around to you with a brow raised. “‘Bout three weeks, why?” 

You shrugged your shoulders. You were still upset that work couldn’t give you at least some leave to go visit and watch your boyfriend play in person. Apparently you were, ‘too valuable and important’ to leave for Tokyo for a few days. 

The bed shifted as Atsumu sat in front of you, a smirk residing on his face. Grabbing your legs suddenly, he pulled you forward so you sat on his lap. You nearly fell backwards with an, “Eep!” before wrapping your arms around Atsumu’s neck. 

Now face to face, Atsumu’s lips forming a soft smile. “Hi beautiful,” he murmured before pressing butterfly kisses against your cheeks. You grinned, shoulders shaking from your giggles. 

Pulling away, Atsumu now wore a grin of his own. 

“Hey handsome,” you said, giving him a gentle kiss. 

There was a moment of silence afterwards, you running your hands through his hair as Atsumu ran his hands up and down your waist. 

“I’m going to miss you,” you said, the grin on your face fading away. 

“Yah?” 

You nodded, “Yeah. What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?”

Atsumu’s mouth twisted, hands resting on your back. “Well, what do ya do when I’m gone at my away games?” He asked. 

Resting your forehead on his broad shoulder, you mumbled, “Wait for you to come back.” 

Your boyfriend pulled you closer and he pressed a kiss on the top of your head. 

“Well I can’t wait to come back to ya.”

Taglist: @akasgisrightsactivist @yams046 @pepperskullss @kkoalaworld @sachirou-senpai @osamusriceballz @edvigelacivetta @tris-does-stuff @ylxxia​ @the-broken-halo-writer​

Atsumu: @pretty-setters​

[akasgisrightsactivist]

Onigiri and Soft Kisses

I would love to nod my head and say, damn this is so Osamu, so in character, but I might have to shake my head instead and say, idfk??

So! First Osamu fic and request, @osamusriceballs​ and everyone else, I hope you enjoy!! 💕

Oh, and Happy Birthday to the Twins!!

Miya Osamu x Reader

Warnings: Mmm.. I say no. Poor reader just can’t cook onigiri 💔Fluffy

Word Count: 355

Prompt: Character A looks at Character B and gently cups their face to examine it. 

Character B is a little confused and asks what���s Character A doing. ‘Hold on, there’s something on your face,’ Character A responds and then kisses Character B. 'It was me.' 

Character B becomes red and flustered.

Next to one another at the kitchen counter, Osamu and you started cooking dinner. Every Sunday, Osamu tried his best to teach you more about making onigiri and the different types. 

How well it went, well that was a different story. 

“‘Samu, how come the rice is sticking to my hands?” You tried flicking and rubbing the rice off your hands before you washed them off at the sink. 

Groaning, you forfeited and leaned against your fiancé, watching him finish up his third one. ‘Jeez,’ you thought, ‘I could barely make one, and it looks like a disaster.’ 

Kissing the top of your head, Osamu said, “It just takes time and practice. And ya didn’t put water on yer hands first silly.”

You nodded, “Yeah, that’s a key part I suppose.” 

Both of you chuckled and he held up one of his onigiri to you. “Here, go ahead and try mine.” 

Taking a bite, you let out a quiet hum of approval. “Amazing as always,” you said, continuing to eat the salmon flavored rice ball. 

“Why thank ya, Mrs. Miya.” Turning away, you could feel your face warm up from the latest nickname Osamu had given you. 

Turning back towards him, Osamu cupped your face and moved it side to side, examining it. “Love?” You raised a brow, “Is everything okay?” 

Osamu shook his head, lips forming a small frown, “No, hold on you’ve got something on yer face. Go ahead and close your eyes for me.” 

You were a bit hesitant, never knowing what tricks were up Osamu’s sleeves, but you closed your eyes anyway. 

You could feel a breath of air fanning across your face before lips met yours with a soft kiss. Before you could respond in any way, Osamu pulled away with a sly smile,

“It was me.”

Your jaw was slacked open and random words were stuttering out of your mouth. “I.. You know! How.. Let’s finish those rice balls!” Your face felt like it was on fire as Osamu laughed behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. 

“I love ya, Mrs. Miya.”

“I love you too, Mr. Miya.” 

Taglist: @akasgisrightsactivist​ @yams046​ @pepperskullss​ @kkoalaworld​ @sachirou-senpai​ @osamusriceballz​ @edvigelacivetta​ @tris-does-stuff​ @ylxxia​ @the-broken-halo-writer​

[akasgisrightsactivist]

I don’t remember if I thanked you for this commentary, but in any case, thank you for writing this!

You could say you lost your marbles at the marble imagery 😎

Words That Will Never Reach the Other Side of the Wall

[Oikawa x Reader]  [Angst] [Word count: 800]

He was a failure.

Maybe it was the accumulation of error after mistake, or maybe it was the fact that he didn’t let go of them, choosing to pile them up over his shoulders like a spiky backpack that grazed his shoulders and stabbed his back, always reminding him of his past.

He wouldn’t allow himself to forget.

You wouldn’t, either. Or so he thought, because he couldn’t understand why you didn’t like him back.

Keep reading

[akasgisrightsactivist]

sine/cosine

Kuroo x f!Reader

fluff

4.3k words

reposting because i spent too much time on this for it to be disappeared from the tags

—

Please do not repost or repurpose my works. Thanks.

—

The tailored suit jacket feels just a little too snug around his shoulders right now. Or maybe it’s his nerves, making him breathe just a little deeper in an attempt to keep his cool. But he can never truly keep his cool around you. There’s so much he wants to tell you, so much he wants to say, but there’s a strict schedule he needs to follow, and he’s not quite sure his notes are in the right order either.

Nevertheless, he pulls them out of his suit pocket, thankful that his hands are a tad bit clammy making it easier to flip through them. Coughing a little, he tries to clear his throat of any anxiety. He takes one last deep breath in before opening his mouth. “When I first met you, I thought we were a pair of intersecting lines. Fated to meet just once and then never again.”

—

Keep reading

[akasgisrightsactivist]

!!! i missed you :) i hope youre doing okay, you were (and always will be xD) like my fave writing blog on here, nothing but love!

Oh, hi anon! Thank you so much for sending this, it makes me so happy to know that I’m someone’s favorite writing blog! I hope you enjoy the new stuff I’ll post and I hope you’re having a nice day!

[akasgisrightsactivist]

I'm so glad you're back!! I hope you've been doing well and taking care of yourself, Ele <3 also hope you had happy holidays (if you celebrate them!!)

Thank you Ma! I hope you’re doing well too!! And happy new year, I’m wishing you lots of good stuff for this 2021!