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[alisa--things]

which of the haikyuu boys would be into a tall so? I'm like 5'9.5" and all these type questions are centered around shorter girls usually :')

a/n: tall people are so cool :') and idk why, but all the tall people i know are pretty clumsy?? is that like a character trait that goes with the height lol

warnings: none

×××

> ushijima wakatoshi

i think he'd simply be a lot more comfortable with someone tall than someone short because he's tall and strong himself. he'd be a bit too cautious with a smaller partner, so for him to date someone somewhat closer to his height or just tall in general is a win for him.

> iwaizumi hajime

i mean, this man would love someone tall. if you're taller and want to tease him by putting your chin on his head or shoulder, he acts like he's pissed and you'd think so because of his reddened cheeks, but he's actually super into it?? the moment i read this ask, i immediately thought of him so, why? idk.

> akaashi keiji

i don't see him as having a height preference, but there's just something about tall people and i've always pictured him with someone tall, so i'm putting him here. akaashi wouldn't mind if they were taller than him either; their height is just a number, nothing significant about it.

> suguru daishou

i think he'd look for a taller partner because he'd think like this: tall person = long legs, and i see him as being into someone who has nice long legs. i know that in canon his girlfriend is like a head shorter than him, but let us just imagine him wanting a tall partner, okay?

> miya osamu

unlike his brother who prefers someone shorter, osamu is more into taller people (even though he doesn't think much about height). he doesn't openly go after taller people, but he finds himself more attracted to them because for him, tall people like himself just ooze confidence, so there's that.

×××

[alisa--things]

I really enjoyed making this

Thank you @wake-uptoreality for tagging me <3

I can’t help myself! Here’s another picrew!!

I tried to make one to sort of fit the spooky season!!

Tagging: @theferricfox @levisbrat25 @25303 @ackermendick @youre-ackermine @m-jelly @mootheskinnycowsblog and anyone else who wants to play!!

[alisa--things]

android!oikawa + “getting cozy?” & “still cold?”

Keep reading

[alisa--things]

Ahh this is so sweet~

Brace yourself. He knows and he just ran out of practice.

You told him?!

Yes but ya can't blame me! Ya should've seen him, he was a mess! He thought ya were upset with him

You sigh and dim your phone.

There's nothing you can do about the piles of used tissues and half-drank bottles of Gatorade now. The humidifier's almost empty as the air hangs thick with the smell of illness.

You don't have the energy to clean right now.

And if Sakusa's on his way to see you because he found out you're sick and he's worried?

There's no reason to try.

When the knock finally comes you shuffle to the door wrapped in your comforter like a soggy hot dog bun.

"Hey Kiyo-" is all it takes to send you into a coughing fit but

Sakusa doesn't flinch. Double-masked and rubber-gloved he swoops in and picks you up.

"Can't believe you didn't tell me you were sick," he grumbles.

You don't bother trying to defend yourself...the way you're curling into him would undermine anything you might say.

You rest your head on his chest. His warmth is comforting, the depth of his voice soothing.

He brings you back to bed and gets to work using the backpack full of cleaners and disinfectants to clean your apartment.

Unsure when you fell asleep, you wake up to a tidy room. Humidifier refilled and gently whirring an arc of mist into the air, there are soft sounds from the rest of the apartment. A few voices you recognize and the familiar lock of your front door.

Sakusa peeks in a moment later. "Oh, you're awake." He softly comes to the side of the bed with a tray, "Atsumu just dropped off some Onigiri Miya."

You notice there's a fresh glass of water and medicine already on the bedside table and you smile weakly.

"What is it?" Sakusa asks, features furrowed around his mask.

"It's just...you did so much." Your voice sleepily drifts.

Sakusa squats next to the bed. "You did this for me, remember?"

You wonder if you're delirious, imagining the light touch brushing messy hair from your face...

The gentle voice that murmurs "and like I said, I'd do it for you."

[alisa--things]

Ahhhhh! Iwaizumi lives in my heart and head rent free~

Middle Seat | H. Iwaizumi ~ your boyfriend turns out to be even a bigger gentleman than he already was

➤ ft: timeskip!iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

➤ content warning: fluff, airplanes(?), not proofread bc i’m tired

enjoy!

●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘●

Oh, Iwaizumi is the biggest gentleman you’ve ever known when it came to dating.

When you guys first started seeing each other, he was already top-tier compared to the other people that came along your way in the dating world. He did the bare minimum of course but he’d top each and every gesture every time you guys are together.

He offered to meet up first in separate cars once you were comfortable enough with him. And once you were he always went to you wherever you were at. He’d wait for you outside his car or he’ll walk up to get you and walk to the car right beside you. Then he’d always open the car door or any door for that matter and let you in/out first.

He’d guide you through crowds with either him intertwining his fingers with yours as you lead the both of you away from everyone else or he’d keep his hand resting on your lower back or waist and gently lead you through the crowd.

And holding your bags was something that was your favorite thing about him. Iwaizumi had no shame in wearing your purses, backpacks, and even clutches.

“The hell you looking at?” Iwaizumi sighed in annoyance as he hears his best friend snicker like a little witch.

“Why-,” Oikawa snorted, “Why you wearing a pink purse?”

“Tch,” Iwa scoffs before side-kicking Tory’s ass making him yelp, “It’s Y/n’s, dipshit. And it’s just a damn purse I’ve seen your sister dress you up like a doll and you were happy about it.”

After that, Toru wouldn’t stop his quiet whining/mumbling after gasping like an overdramatized soap opera actor. Like hell Iwa was gonna let someone like Toru make fun of him for wear a necessity - your words not his.

But today, even after all of those gestures that get better each day, the beginning of your guy’s vacation was ultimately your favorite gesture he’s done.

You guys were headed out to Spain for your four year anniversary. It was your first vacation together on a plane so were extra excited. Iwa had you carry the smaller bags while he rolled the suitcases along with a bigger backpack. He checked you guys in, went through TSA efficiently, and got breakfast. About two hours later it was time to board the plane.

Your seats were a window and middle seat so you were kind of uncomfortable being in the middle with a stranger for a long plane ride. But you sucked it up and brushed it off because you weren’t going to let it get to you.

After you and Iwa put away your carry-ons in the baggage hanger you looked at Iwa and waited for him to go in first. He looked at you like you were slow for a second with slightly furrowed eyebrows, “What’s up, babe?” he asked.

You tilted your head in confusion. “Oh, I’m waiting for you to get in first. I figured you’d want the window seat,” you said.

Then he looked at you like you were stupid. Wide eyes with raised eyebrows. You were practically ready to get scolded by him because he looked so baffled by your answer. “Why would I sit in the window seat and have you sit next to a stranger?” he asked.

You stood there in silence because you genuinely didn’t have an answer. Like you just assumed that’s what was going to happen. Counting by the more obvious look on your face, he assumed that you thought you were sitting in the middle.

He scoffed with a chuckle, “You’re lucky I love you. Go sit down,” he said before placing a kiss in your forehead.

Your cheeks burned red out of a small bit of embarrassment because he made it seem like it was obvious you weren’t going to sit in the middle. Before you could overthink the embarrassment even more, Iwa laughed making you snap out of that bubble.

“Quit thinking about it so much, sweets,” he kissed your cheek as he sat down next to you, “You’re gonna be more comfortable there. I’m not havin’ you be uncomfortable next to a stranger.”

You smiled softly as you kissed his shoulder, then his cheek, and then his lips. “You treat me like a princess way too much,” you mumbled against his shoulder with more tiny kisses.

Iwa chuckled again as he kissed your forehead, “As I should, you jean everything to me, my love,” he smiled.

Two days later, he proposed during a private dinner off the coast in Palma, Spain.

~

~

[alisa--things]

Thank you for tagging me <3

hot shower or cold shower // texting or calling or email // earbuds or headphones // paperback or hardcover // matte or gel // 12 hour clock or 24 hour clock // blue or green // sunsets or sunrises // tulips or orchids // candle light or moonlight // sci-fi or horror // pen or pencil // pandas or koalas // gold or silver // sneakers or boots // denim jacket or leather jacket // pink or purple // chocolate or sour candy // deodorant or perfume // drive-in movie theater or the cinema // pastel colors or neutral earth tones // lemonade or fruit juice // past or future

thanks for the tag @unstablecaffeinatedmind !!! 🥰once again, i love a “this or that” and any excuse to talk about myself lol

hot shower or cold shower // texting or calling or email // earbuds or headphones // paperback or hardcover // matte or gel // 12 hour clock or 24 hour clock // blue or green // sunsets or sunrises // tulips or orchids // candle light or moonlight // sci-fi or horror // pen or pencil // pandas or koalas // gold or silver // sneakers or boots // denim jacket or leather jacket // pink or purple // chocolate or sour candy // deodorant or perfume // drive-in movie theater or the cinema // pastel colors or neutral earth tones // lemonade or fruit juice // past or future

tagging: @togrowoldinv and @gracebutnotgraceful and anyone who wants to!!! i’ve seen this floating around so not sure who’s already been tagged lol

[alisa--things]

Thinking about ceo! Sakusa makes me a drooling mess. The man is so hot already and plus the black suit ahhh. He grabbing your wrist and pinning you on his work desk after you making some mistakes while working on the huge upcoming project and kissing you with passion until you are left breathless and shaking. He is not disappointed. You are his favorite after all, but Sakusa is taking advantage to make you fall apart in every way possible. He smirks as he sees your reaction after that hot make-out, then gets closer and murmurs in your ear "If you are gonna make more mistakes, I won't be as kind as I was today, sweetheart" you become determined to mess up the whole project.

[alisa--things]

People don't know what x reader is nowadays huh? X reader is when you the author allow your readers to define and choose a character's appearance and name, this includes race, body, eyes, hair, hair, texture, height, name, and more.

These stories be having x reader when in the book they put “Y/n has pale skin, is petite, and has blue eyes” if you have a description of a character it is no longer x reader it is x OC(Original Character) I don't know why writers do this because the only thing you can pick in these “x reader” is your name it is very annoying as a young black woman thinking I can enjoy a favorite fiction character x reader story and I get hit with “and I can feel my pale skin blush” or “I had to look up at him because of my height”.

It's misleading and it honestly turned me off wanting to read from white authors who write x-reader stories, this happens the most tho on Wattpad.

Just put that the book is x original character that's it so people can enjoy it more, it's not that hard please, and thank you🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤.

[alisa--things]

Okay my turn:

Personality wise

coming at #1:

The ace of my heart

#2:

Aaannd #3:

Part of me relates to atsumu but we're not gonna get into details.

Now appearance wise:

#1:

I mean I dont need to explain🤨

#2:

I'm embarrassed to admit it, but. He's the reason I started watching haikyuu then got addicted 💀

*ahem* moving on

#3

Sunarin my beloved~ <3

Hey! I need to know! What are your three favourite HAIKYUU!! characters

Personality‐wise AND appearance-wise???

I'll start:

Personality

My beloved Kuroo (whom I like so much I can't even write him)

Mr Freshness Sugawara. He's just a great person.

Funniest guy Makki ♡

Appearance

Tsumtsum will always be in my heart

I always lose myself in those blue eyes...

The great Kuroo again ♡

Little special:

I adore Tsukki but he's a bit too mean xD

Now tell me yours!

@sassycheesecake @tojidreams @ukiyotsu @owlnymph and whoever wants to do this!

[alisa--things]

iwaizumi x f! reader, 5.1k

SUMMARY: your favourite childhood memory is the story your grandmother told you of magpies. you hear her voice softly, 'when you see a magpie, be prepared for good news.' — good news comes in the form of tender hands and fond eyes, love shared and reciprocated.

a/n: happy belated birthday to my beloved @augustinewrites <3 i luv you dearly and im sorry this is so late :’)

Back when you were younger, when you still lived in Tokyo, your family would visit your grandmother’s house to celebrate the Spring Equinox and pay respects to your grandfather’s grave nearby.  

She lived in a big traditional house. It had a huge backyard what she could often be found sitting in, surrounded by various plants and crock pots that housed her fermenting umeboshi. She’d hold your tiny fist in one hand, your brother’s larger one in the other, and you’d open it together to peek inside. When the ume was close to being fermented enough, she’d let you both reach in and pull a piece each to taste. It felt like holding a secret, in your hands, and later in your mouth, when the sharp tang of fermentation would linger on your tongue. 

Some years, it would just be you. Your brother aged out of the childhood wonder and became your mother’s assistant in the kitchen instead. These years, she would sit with you on a small wooden bench, a small plate of red bean mochi between you, and she’d tell you stories.  

She knew so much, your grandmother. Having lived through a war and through the twenty-first century, she’d seen many things, from a country laced with instability to a seed growing into a tree, splitting the earth. And for that, you loved to listen to her.

Once, she told you the story of her first love, the man before your grandfather. How they’d never even exchanged a word, just glances, all stolen. There was something in her voice then, one you didn’t know the word for yet, but if you were to put a name to it now, it would be wistful. He never came back from the war.

Another time, she told you a story about your father. How he’d been her last hope in a string of miscarriages. How your grandfather planted a gingko tree and prayed over it, a life for another life. A wish: let my child live, and I will never let you die. Your father was born, and just as he grew, the gingko tree did too. Your grandmother must have tended to it loyally, for whenever you visited, the tree would always be in full golden bloom.

You asked once if she ever got tired of taking care of it. But she only looked back into her house, right where the window provided a view of the kitchen, right where her son was, and shook her head. Smiled a smile that was earned with age and said, they say a gingko tree could live a thousand years. 

Perhaps there’s a wish there too.

Your favourite stories, though, are the ones she’d spun herself. Maybe they were folktales too or something her own mother had told her once upon a time, but they would captivate you like no other.

The one you remember most clearly is the story of the magpies.

There once was a Deity of Light who had a daughter, the Weaving Maiden, who grew up to be a talented weaver for the gods. One day, as she was weaving, she looked across the Milky Way and saw the Herd Boy of Heaven. She fell in love at first sight, and her father allowed them to marry; due to the bliss of marriage, the Weaving Maiden refused to create the beautiful clothes she used to make, and the Herd Boy abandoned the flocks and herds he used to love. And for their negligence, the Deity of Light grew furious. For punishment, he ordered them to live separately, with the kindness of allowing them to meet on the seventh day of the seventh month of each year.

On the blessed day, having tripped over themselves to meet each other, they found that they could not cross the Milky Way. In pity, the Deity organised for a mischief of magpies (or was it a murder of crows, you can’t remember) to come together as a bridge for the couple. And they were happy to be in each other’s arms, even though the happiness was brief.

You think of your grandmother today, on your walk home from work. The trees are bare, carrying only snow and the chill in the air. Save for one that stands a stone’s throw away from your apartment complex’s building. There, as you look up, is a magpie looking right down at you.

You smile at it but don’t linger long—you’ve been shivering the whole way home and eager to thaw. In a warm bath, a hot meal, and later, when your boyfriend Hajime comes home, in his embrace.

It’s only when you’re rummaging through cabinets, looking for something to wrap yourself into, that you remember what your grandmother had said about magpies.

Something falls as you pull a blanket out, and when you pick it up, you see that it’s a box. And when you open it, your mouth falls open too.

It’s a ring.

The memory of your grandmother comes, her wrinkled hand pointing to a low branch on her golden-leafed gingko tree, her voice saying: when you see a magpie, be prepared for good news.

.

.

.

“What do you think of marriage?”

“Marriage?”

You lean down, sipping your tea as you shrug your shoulders. Inside, you were cringing. You had planned to go about asking in a…subtler way, but it was out now. You would just have to be casual from now on.

“Why are you asking? Are you thinking of proposing?”

“Sakura!” You give her a look before crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m just curious. Can’t two friends have a deep conversation?”

Sakura raises her brow and leans forward in interest, “Is my boyfriend proposing?”

You squint, “Sorry to disappoint, but he hasn’t said anything—“

Sakura sighs, with surprising relief, “Oh good, that would have been terrifying. Ha ha! I’m a baby. Babies can’t get married.”

You want to bonk her head and tell her, you are turning twenty-four this year. By all measurements, that’s Sakura unambiguously in her mid-twenties. But you’re twenty-four now and turning twenty-five soon. You don't think you’re any closer to fitting the label of an adult. You want to cling to youth too. In all the ways that count, you’re a baby.

Sakura pokes you out of his reverie, “What about you? What do you think of marriage?”

“I think…” you trail off with a sigh, staring out the window.

You’re both in a beautiful café in Sendai, some random hole in the wall with flowers spilling in fuschia pink blooms in tucked corners. It’s the eve of February, and you’re supposed to be looking for a Valentine’s gift for your boyfriend—but you can’t. Your mind is stuck on the past, last Friday to be exact. In every way but the physical here, you were still crouched in front of your closet, staring at the ring.

You shake your head, “I don’t know. I think I’ve always thought of it vaguely. Like, I do want to be married. And maybe I’ve even thought of being married to Hajime, but it was always a someday type of thing. You know? Something far away, promised but out of reach at the same time—“

“Oh,” Sakura’s eyes widen, leaning back into her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. “Did Iwaizumi propose to you?”

“Well,” you start casually, because Sakura does not need to know how insane this has been making you feel, “No, but I found a ring.”

“Like a real ring?”

You roll your eyes, “No, I found a ringpop he’s been hoarding for years— yes! A real ring! It looked real…it didn’t have a diamond or anything like in movies, but it was simple. Gold. Something that fit—“

“You.” Sakura finishes.

“Me, yeah,” you nod, heaving a sigh. “And I know I overthink things, but it has to be for me, right? Not unless he’s been hiding someone else, which,” you dismiss, “he is absolutely not. So, it’s mine.”

“Oh, so it’s already yours,” Sakura teases, and you reach over to swat at her but miss. Sakura’s surprisingly dodgy when she wants to be. Sakura grins at you, “Congratulations then. I hope you at least pick me as one of your bridesmaids, but it would be better if I was your Maid of Honour.”

You snort, “I don’t think you would settle for anything less than that.”

“I’m glad you know just how important I am to your life.”

“If I was getting married—“

“Oh, but—“

You already know the next words out of Sakura’s mouth. “I know, I know, I found the ring, but what if he doesn’t actually want to marry me? Or he did, then changed his mind—“

Sakura raises a hand. The doubts stop at your throat. “Do you feel like he’s planning on breaking up with you anytime soon?”

“No…” You say quietly. And then another thought comes, “But! I could be blindsided by it. It happens all the time. One person in the relationship thinks everything is fine, me, and the other wants to break up and move on. And you know, Iwaizumi is older than me. He’s at that age, where relationships are either heading towards marriage or a breakup, and—“

“You said it yourself,” Sakura points out, “He’s either going towards marriage or a breakup. Considering the ring and that you are in a happy relationship and how long have you and him been together?”

“Five years,” You press your hands to your cheeks, “We met when I was nineteen.”

“So one can say that you are very serious with each other,” Sakura reaches for your hands. You let yourself be held. “I think it’s safe to say that he wants to marry you.” Delicately, Sakura asks, “Do you not want to marry him?”

You bite your lip. You’ve always felt like this was a question that should be easily answered by a yes or no. And yet, you falter. You don't know what you want. You love Iwaizumi, yes, but do you want to marry him? Or, you do, but—

“Not now.” you rub your face, “I’m too fucking young. Isn’t marriage for… older people?”

You don't even know how to do basic things, like fix a light or unclog a drain. On laundry days, you dread having to fold a fitted sheet. The other day, you played video games until the sun rose. You can’t get married. Married people have children. You’re a baby. A baby can’t have a baby.

Sakura frowns, “You are older people. I know what I said about being a baby, but I am pretty sure we are what we used to think older people were. I think my mom got married at twenty-five, so,” she puts a finger up, “Which is you, in about a month. So you’re right on time!”

You feel your head spin, “It’s a little overwhelming.”

“I would be surprised if it wasn’t,” Sakura says with a surprising air of wisdom. “I think you need to think it over. What you want, what you need right now. If I know anything to be true, it’s that Iwaizumi loves you. And he is not going to break up with you, unless you do it first. So, as long as you love him and you’re honest, everything will be fine. And if your answer is still not now…”

Sakura smiles, “Then tell him wait. The two of you are never that far away from each other, anyway.”

.

.

.

You think about it over the next couple of days.

You try hard not to let it show, at least not where Iwaizumi could see. You’ve been together for too long, and he knows you better than yourself. He would somehow find out about the ring, confront you about it, and then demand an answer before you even knew what to say.

And you’ve already been thinking about it a lot. In the quiet spaces of your day, you turn the question over and over like a rock. In the shower, you ask, what does it mean to be married? As you take out the trash, you wonder, what would marriage with Iwaizumi be like? As you walk into work, you think, what would be different? 

When you come home, you get your answer.

Iwaizumi is home earlier than you today. Lately, he’s been coming home so late, because he’s been chasing a promotion at work. More money, he explained, so we can move to a bigger apartment, buy you nicer clothes, take a vacation somewhere far. But you understood, it was more than that. Iwaizumi loved the thrill of achievement. Iwaizumi had an appetite for challenge, and his ambition was hungrier than most. It’s something you admire in your boyfriend. You respect it, support it, even if you certainly miss coming home to this Iwaizumi—tender Iwaizumi and his threadbare shirt and Godzilla-themed shorts cooking dinner.

Iwaizumi’s hair is partly wet still, freshly washed, missed by the hair dryer he only ever turned on long enough to dry the front part but not the back. You’re so endeared by the sight, you almost trip over your own slippers as you rush to hug him from behind.

“Oh,” Iwaizumi laughs, the sound a rumble you feel in your chest, “You’re back.”

You smile. Iwaizumi is so warm. You rub your face against the broad plane of his back, “Hi honey, I’m home.”

Iwaizumi twists in your arms, just enough so that he could properly hold your cheeks in his hands and kiss you right on your cold mouth, “Mhmm, honey. Where is the scarf I told you to wear?”

You giggle, “I forgot.”

Iwaizumi’s finger pokes your side, leaving you twisting in his arms, “You forgot? Do I have to wrap the scarf around you myself? You’re going to get sick again, and then you’re going to whine about how I could let you get sick.”

“I do not whine when I get sick!” You protest and try to grab his wandering hands. When you trap both in yours, you insist, “I’m an angel.”

“An angel who begs for cuddles,” Iwaizumi teases. He manages to pull his hands out of your hold. He grabs your shoulders and turns you around. In a high whiny voice that’s apparently supposed to sound like you, Iwaizumi says, “Babe, I’m cold. Babe I want a hug. Babe, kiss my forehead—“

“I do not!” you run away from him, but Iwaizumi still manages to hit your ass, “Go take a hot shower.”

You turn around, walking backwards into your room, “What’s for dinner?”

“It’s a secret,” Iwaizumi smiles, “You’ll see.”

You happily shower and just as happily get dressed in your pyjamas. There’s a bounce in your step that’s as silly as the smile on your face. It’s a smile that widens as you go to the tiny dining table and see what Iwaizumi cooked.

“Oh,” you say, feeling tender, “You haven’t made this in so long.”

Iwaizumi scratches the back of his head, “I know, I was trying really hard to remember the recipe, because you said the other day that you were craving the pasta dish I used to make at my old apartment.”

You smile as you stare at the plate before you, still hot enough where you could see the steam. The garlic smell is just as strong as it was the first time he made it. “We had this on our first date,” you remember well. You’re touched, lip jutting into a pout, “I can’t believe you remembered I said that.”

“How could I forget? You complained that I smell like garlic and didn’t want to kiss me until I brushed my teeth. I was so annoyed,” Iwaizumi says, though he only sounds fond now.

You roll your eyes, “I mean, I can’t believe you remembered I said I was craving this dish. I was so touched but now—“

Iwaizumi laughs, twirling pasta around his fork, “I just did. Why are you so touched? You know even though you talk one thousand words per minute, I always listen to you, right?”

“I know,” you say, softly.

You do know, a fact which settles inside you gently.

Marriage could mean many things, you think as you dig into the meal, but it could mean just this too. 

If getting married means this forever, then you’re going to throw away your reservations about earliness and age. You’re old enough for this: Iwaizumi with his cheeks stuffed full, eating like it’s his last day on Earth. Tired but content and whole in front of you.

You’ll settle in your old couch, made only comfier by the years, and watch the new episode of this drama you’re watching together. You’ve done the same thing for years, and you can’t see yourself getting tired of doing it—three to four to five years down the line.

Maybe even forever.

And maybe that’s all marriage is, you conclude when you tuck yourself into Iwaizumi’s side as you both get into bed.

A promise to be together, doing the same boring thing over and over again without aching for change.

.

.

.

You text Sakura the morning after: if he asks, I’m going to say yes. 

You laugh when you get Sakura’s immediate response back: WHEN, NOT IF!!!!!! 

And then after a sobering moment (for Sakura, you assume), the following messages flash on the screen:

Congrats, Y/N!! 

I’m really, really happy for you!! 

.

.

.

The more you think about it, the more you fall in love with the idea.

Iwaizumi in a nice fitted suit. Love in his eyes. In your daydreams, he’s crying like a baby as he puts the ring on your finger.

You’ve never thought about the specifics of a wedding, but now you can’t stop thinking about how it would go. Where it would be.

In the office, you type when is the best time to get married? on Google search and are bombarded by pages upon pages or articles. Spring, someone suggests, so the cherry blossom trees are in full bloom. Another one says, no, no, do summer— you can get married by the beach. 

You wonder about fall. Wouldn’t it be beautiful? You could have it in the outskirts of Tokyo, near your grandmother’s house, and your entire family could come. Your friends could drive down. You can picture your mother in a beautiful purple kimono. Your father looking dapper under the red and golden foliage of the trees.

Your eyes wander and land upon the time. You jolt, realising how much time you’ve just wasted, daydreaming of a wedding that hasn’t been set in stone yet. Iwaizumi hasn’t even asked you.

And that is the question now, isn’t it?

You wonder how long Iwaizumi intends to hold onto the ring. If he’s waiting for something—a sign or maybe even a hint from you.

You try to remember if you’ve talked about it before. Five years is a long time to be together after all, without it ever coming up. You’re pretty sure you’ve brought it up at least once, because a lot of the people you went to high school with are already engaged or married. Some even have children (which again, insane).

But you think Iwaizumi only ever commented vaguely. Like a wow, or even a teasing, oh really? Neither of your close or shared friends are married or even engaged, so it feels like it’s never really been front and centre in your minds. Or at least, in your mind, because clearly, Iwaizumi has been thinking about it.

Maybe he just doesn’t want to rush things. You both are still young, after all. You're just starting out in your own career too. It feels like there’s so many things you still have to accomplish before getting married, and Iwaizumi being Iwaizumi knows that.

But if he wants to get married soon… You definitely wouldn’t mind.

You already look at Iwaizumi like he’s forever. There’s never going to be anybody else for you.

Maybe he just needs encouragement. Maybe you just need to drop hints.

Over breakfast, Iwaizumi asks you, “Is there anything you want for your birthday? It’s coming up already.”

“It is coming up,” you note, pensive over your eggs. “I feel like it was just Christmas. And then we had the New Year. And then we have Valentine’s next week. There’s too many things happening, I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Well, you should think about it,” Iwaizumi says. “It’s your twenty-fifth. That’s special. Think of something nice. Don’t think about the price.”

You hum, long and teasing, “Wow. That’s exciting. I don’t know. You’re the one with the expensive taste between us.”

Iwaizumi huffs, “You’re the one who’s stealing my clothes, which I bought based on my expensive taste.” He raises a brow, “Come on, babe. Be creative. I will only open my wallet this wide once.”

You sigh. You love gifts, but you’re not like him. You don't really care if it’s expensive or not. You just want something you’ll be able to use or something meaningful. “I don’t know,” you find yourself saying, “Maybe buy me expensive jewellery. We can get matching rings again or something.”

And right as the words leave your mouth, you fight the urge to flinch. God, you and your big stupid mouth. Your chest tightens. All you want is for the ground to swallow you up and absorb your existence. Why the fuck would you say that—oh my god, Iwaizumi is going to know that you saw the ring and what if he feels pressured to propose now? This is so embarrassing—

“The one that supposedly got ‘stolen’?” Iwaizumi smirks, not even looking up from his breakfast. “Sure, we can get one again, but maybe this time, we’ll put yours on a chain so nobody can take it away from you. It’s okay to say you lost it, baby. My feelings won’t get hurt. I promise—“

“You are so annoying,” you grumble, but inside, you’re so relieved. And maybe a little bit disappointed? Maybe a part of you wanted Iwaizumi to ask too. “I already have a necklace though. And it was very expensive, because I looked up the price—“

Iwaizumi groans, “You’re not supposed to look at the price! My love is not supposed to be measured—“

You grin, “And it seems like… your love costs exactly five hundred and twenty thousand—“

Iwaizumi kicks your leg, and breakfast goes on until it blends with the rest of the day. It was a rather obvious slip, and Iwaizumi dodged it. Expertly, one might say. The implications of that were as numerous and tangled as a ball of yarn.

And you, the silly cat, spend the waking hours untangling it, one by one.

He wants to marry me, you decide after one knot.

The ring was a mistake, you conclude after another. You haven't felt so consumed by the uncertainty of something, since the beginning of your relationship maybe. When you were wondering if you were hallucinating Iwaizumi’s interest in you.

You wonder if you hallucinated the ring too, but when Iwaizumi’s gone, you sneak back to the closet, reach deep into it, and feel your heart settle when your hands find the velvet box. You remind yourself to be patient, but it’s never been your strong suit. You wish this time that he would drop a hint or something. A little indication of when he plans to pop the question.

Iwaizumi behaves so normally it’s tearing you inside. To him, it’s like the ring doesn’t even exist in this world, let alone in the back of your closet.

At the rate this is going, you think you’re the one who’ll take the ring and pop the question. But it wouldn’t be the same, because you didn’t buy the ring. And you really feel like asking just to ask would not be a good reason to ask, even though yeah, you would like to marry him.

Just when you feel like banging your head on something, you get the first hint that Iwaizumi may ask soon.

He comes home one day and looks oddly skittish. You welcome him home, already in your pyjamas, and ask like usual, “How was your day?”

And Iwaizumi says, “It was good,” which is a fine answer. But he attempts a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and it has you wondering why. It could just be a bad day at work, so you let him be.

But then, the next day he comes home wearing the same expression. You ask the same question, and Iwaizumi gives the same answer. This time though, he doesn’t let it be. “Is work giving you a hard time? Are they asking you to work even more hours?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head and that expression of his comes loose. He smiles, albeit a little tired, and says, “It’s nothing bad. It’s alright.”

You can only accept it, because Iwaizumi isn’t the type to keep secrets from you. Maybe early on, when you were a year into their relationship, he’d carry it all inside and never even let you know if he was struggling. But it’s different now. It’s late though, so you try to let it be.

But as you’re cuddling on the couch, watching TV, you feel his gaze on you.

“What,” you ask without looking.

“Nothing,” Iwaizumi says, and then you feel the sudden press of lips against your cheek. You turn and find him smiling at you, reaching for your hand. “I’m thinking of Valentine’s next week. We should do something nice. Like something fancy.”

He’s playing with your fingers as he says this, and your heart begins to pound hard against your chest. This is it, you think, he’s going to ask. 

You cannot contain the smile that blooms widely on your face, “I’m down. I already thought we were going to do something nice. What did you have in mind? Is there somewhere you want to eat at?”

“Should we go somewhere far? Like a weekend trip somewhere?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Would your work let you?” you’re trying not to get too excited. To be honest, you half-thought he would have work on Valentine’s Day, despite the fact that it would be on a Saturday this year. “Did they not schedule you at all that weekend?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head, “Nope. I’m free. Do you want to go to Okinawa?”

Your eyes are starry, “Can we? I’ve seen so many pictures and it looks so beautiful there! I don’t know if there’s anything fancy at all, but I feel like it would be super nice.”

Iwaizumi laughs. When he does, the corners of his eyes crinkle, creating soft lines that look like crow’s feet. You’re in love with it. “Of course, we can. I don’t mind that it’s not fancy either, but it still feels special. We haven’t gone on a trip in so long, have we?”

There, in the undercurrent of his voice, You can hear the faint trace of guilt.

“We haven’t,” you say, carefully neutral. Because your work takes so much of you from me, left unsaid but its presence very much felt. “But it’s okay, because we can go this time. I should go buy film for my camera. I want to take pictures of you again, like I used to. Do you want to stay for a few days? Or should we just go for the weekend?” 

“It would be nice to stay a while, right? I can find us a place to stay,” Iwaizumi says, pulling up his phone. “Ah, this is making me crave seafood.”

You've never been the fondest of seafood, but because Iwaizumi loves it, you’ve  ended up adding some to your diet. Some, you’ve even grown to love too. You gasp, “I want raw marinated crabs. I haven’t had that in so long either.”

Iwaizumi hums, “And sashimi too.” Iwaizumi looks up at him, “We should go visit my grandma again. She makes the best marinated crabs.”

You smile, “Yes, we should. Okay, I’m excited now. I’m gonna think about what we should do and what to wear. I hope it’s sunny, even though it might be really cold since it’s still February. But it would be fun! We should find those small shops and buy some snacks. And we should make a playlist we can listen to on the way there, and then another playlist we can vibe to on the way back home—“

“Yes, whatever you want, baby,” Iwaizumi chuckles, putting his phone down to wrap his arms around you. He rests his head on your shoulder, “It’ll be nice. I miss you, sometimes. Even though we see each other every day. Is that weird?”

You reach up, petting Iwaizumi’s cheek, “No. I miss you too.”

“You don’t get tired of me?” Iwaizumi asks, in a cute baby-like tone.

“Nope.” you answer easily. “Do you get tired of me?”

“Never,” Iwaizumi answers just as easily.

You grin, “What if you saw me every day until the end of time? Do you think you’ll be sick of me then?”

Iwaizumi turns his head, presses a kiss against the sensitive skin of your neck, and smiles when he feels you shiver. “Mhmm,” Iwaizumi hums, “I don’t know, maybe I’ll get sick of you then.”

You gasp, appalled, “You’re supposed to say, no, baby. I will never, ever get sick of you, because I love you so mu—oh!”

You find yourself suddenly on your back with Iwaizumi on top of him. “Hajime.”

He leans down, brushing your noses together, “I love you so much. There. Is that what I’m supposed to say?”

“You’re saying it wrong,” you say, voice soft even though you’re the only two people in the room, maybe even the only two people in the world. “You should say it like you mean it. With your whole heart.”

The corner of Iwaizumi’s mouth twitches. It’s the barest hint of a smirk.

“Let me just show you instead,” Iwaizumi says, before dipping down and kissing you.

You savour it, this kiss that tastes like confetti and promise. It’s an intimacy that feels like it’s been withheld from you. You’re hungry for it. You want so badly to make it last, but you’re too greedy.

For Iwaizumi’s dirty tongue and his rough hands. You encourage it, taking all his heated touches, and let yourself be split open, taken again and again until he’s filled you to the brim.

When you’re cleaned and washed and put to bed, you’re so happy you might just melt into the sheets. You think he is too, with the way he cuddles up to you in bed, how he nuzzles against your neck and holds onto you tight.

There’s so much to think about now, like wedding plans, invites, locations, and all these other things you’ve never even dreamt of having. But as you fall asleep, you feel Iwaizumi find your hand and intertwine your fingers, and your last conscious thought is that you’ll have this forever.

ps. please don't kill me for the open ending i swear it's a for Plot purposes. <3 i hope you enjoyed!

[alisa--things]

Miya Atsumu x reader

No pronouns used

[Masterlist]

An: i came up with this while washing the dishes

Thinking about rival Miya Atsumu

The two of you are pro volleyball players, both playing for 2 amazing and strong teams, but never really interacted with each other

Both of you became part of the national team, a team full of incredible players

And sure you may both be on the same team, you're rivals at the end of the day

It started with a practice match, each one of you on the opposite side of the net, and atsumu being atsumu couldn't help but make some snarky comments about you

To his surprise though, you were quick to match his energy, replying with a more snarky words

And it got under his skin

What really is ironic is how the fans loved the energy between the two star players, going as far as making edits of the two of you together

Hashtags of you two together were the most viral ones of the week, people shipping the two of you, others fighting about how their favourite is better than the other

But as much as he wanted to denie it, the tension between the two of you was unbearable

That's when he recommended the two of you would hook up, only once, to get it out of your system

But only once turned into one more time, and that tuned into three times, which turned into becoming friends

With benefits

Don't get him wrong though, you're still his rival at the end of the day

[alisa--things]

Haikyuu boys who like...

[Masterlist]

Gender neutral reader

(Part 1)

A/n: this was rotting in my drafts so I decided to post it. Check part 1 if you want!!

> dimples: they like those dimples on your cheeks, tries their best to make you smile just so they can see them

Oikawa, sugawara, hinata, sakusa, kita, atsumu, akaashi, kuroo, atsumu, matsukawa

> freckles: he thinks they're one of the best features you have, kisses them from time to time

Iwaizumi, bokuto, daichi, tanaka, semi, tendo, sakusa, ushijima, aran, osamu

> hair: they like to play with your hair while you lay your head on their lap, if it's long enough, they try to style it for you sometimes

Oikawa, akaashi, suna, ushijima, tsukishima, konoha, komori, romero

> voice: your voice is so smooth, it's better than music to their ears. Like to lay with you in bed while you read to them

Akaashi, bokuto, osamu, semi, sakusa, sugawara, hirugami sachiro, ushijima, tsukishima, meian

[alisa--things]

*pats my own back proudly*

NEW CHALLENGE

1. FIRST, create a picrew using this maker, and then 2. SECOND take this quiz on how fandom would see you if you were a fictional character.  3 (THIRD) POST YOUR PIC AND YOUR DESCRIPTION IN THE REBLOG!

Bastard (Good)

You’re a bastard. A wet cat, if you will. And we love you for it. You’re a little shit, but in the good way. You are the baddest babygirl. You killed a man, but you looked good doing it. You flirted with the hero and the enemy. All of Tumblr is madly in love with you. Congrats, I guess?

Tagging EVERYONE but especially @magicaltear, @the-beeses-kneeses, @wafflesrisa, @mykingdomforapen, @marbat, @scientistsinistral, @halberdierminister​!

[alisa--things]

Just dropping to say that I love your content so much!! :D your blog had me spread my love for haikyuu more!! Thank you for that alisa-san!! Always Have a nice and lovely day!! (sorry for the late follow, my boke butt just forgot to do that earlier :') )

(Here little sunshine from me as an apology :>)

*sniff* omg you are soo sweet <3

Plus I apologise fore not posting for a long time, I ran out of ideas to write about.

But I will be sure to post something new once i come up with new ideas

Here have all the love in the world:

Ps: you made my day better befor it even started, thank you!! :>

[alisa--things]

Mind empty, just thinking about Osamu Miya with a foreign s/o

I think food is one of his love languages, so he's always eager to tast and eat the food from your country that you cook for him

He would also make some special onigiris that is a combination of both of your culture's food

100 percent sure he will learn how to make your favourites

[alisa--things]

ー　ＦＡＭＩＬＹ　ＴＩＥＳ　♡

-> was writing and then this popped into my head and enjoy this word vomit 😭🤚

just thinking about husband and father oikawa.

you’re in front of him, watching as your young 2 year old daughter presses sticker after sticker across his face. his nose and cheeks are covered with smileys and hearts, any and every sticker his daughter picked out to put on him.

the fringe on his forehead held back with 3 clips, yellow, purple and blue with a forth pink rabbit one on the other side beside his left ear. two, short pigtails sat atop his head, one his daughter had done and the other one you had tied after your little one had gotten agitated with the hair tie and begged you to do it for her. you obliged, of course, and oikawa didn’t stop you.

his daughters giggles making it worth it. oikawa didn’t care how ridiculous he might’ve looked, or if the laughs from both you and her were directed at how silly his appearance was, or if his girls were just enjoying themselves. it didn’t matter, because moments like these were extraordinarily precious to him.

oikawa was good at keeping a working balance between his career and family, dedicating more time for and with you the moment he found out you were pregnant. you had assured him countless times how you never felt neglected whatsoever, but it wouldn’t do, he was going to be with you every step of the way.

and he was, and still is.

your daughter had enough of putting stickers and begged to put one last finishing touch on her masterpiece. she pulled you down and whispered in your ear to which you grinned. he watched as you got up and ran down to your shared bedroom, and after a few moments come back with a tube in hand.

oikawa figured you had some sense of mercy from the pink colour alone, heaven forbid if you chose a dark red, or even one of your more outlandish colours that seem to have a place in your makeup collection.

after getting the approval, you handed the lipgloss to your daughter, who motioned oikawa with a “daddy down” and a grabby hand. leaning forward for her, he waited patiently as she lightly painted his lips. after sometime, she turns to you and asks you for help.

you’re still soon sat down on his lap, legs on either side, with your daughter sitting in your own. she looks up at her parents, watching as you concentrate and oikawa trying to stay still.

when your done, you lift your daughter to stand and ask her how she likes it. “daddy pwetty” she says as she smiles and giggles, grabbing onto his shoulders and bouncing up and down.

he takes her and smiles, lifting her up with ease as he kisses her cheeks with loud, exaggerated kissing sounds that make your daughter laugh harder. oikawa doesn’t think life could get any better than this, being here with the two girls he loves most.

he puts her down after she wants to go get one of her toys, waddling down he thinks shes just adorable.

once out of sight, he pulls you close and you stare up at him, commenting on how he looks. he couldn’t care less though, kissing your temple as you awaited your daughter to come back and make her presence known.

for all the teasing your daughter and you had subjected him to, he felt he was owed a little payback. your cheeks had grown hot as oikawa whispered in your ear, telling you, his lovely wife, that you should have another.

[alisa--things]

Tooru my beloved <3

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