#Miya Osamu

[tinykofibean]

Oooooh😯🤭

18+

osamu always thought coming untouched was locker room talk bullshit.

that is, until a late evening finds the two of you tired and loose, laughing quietly and lazily making out on his couch after years spent on a tightrope of friendship and flirting and what ifs turned to why nots.

until his pants are on the floor and you’re left in nothing but a bra and a short skirt, and you end up in his lap with your legs wrapped around one of his own. you’ve made suggestive jokes about it before—about how stupidly thick and muscled his thighs still are even now, this long after hanging up his volleyball uniform. (about how rideable they look—your words, not his.)

osamu always thought coming untouched was complete and total bullshit—until he grasps your hips from beneath your bunched up skirt and sees the way your jaw falls slack in pleasure when you experimentally rock forward. until you bury your hands in his hair and whimper his name as you drag your bare pussy along his firm thigh again and again with increasing desperation, leaving behind a slick, soaking wet trail of arousal across his skin.

until you’re moaning and trembling against his mouth into a spit-soaked kiss as your pussy gushes with a climax so intense, you nearly break skin where your nails are digging into his back.

until you reach for the zipper of his pants after only to find his boxers soaked through with a messy, hot load of cum, his neglected, throbbing cock already spent of its own accord.

“oh,” he chokes out, voice rough, chest heaving.

[haebai-png]

more Osamu from my daily drawings on ig

[dyerink]

heat wave

[riddlesrose]

osamu miya who believes you’re close to him because you’re interested in his twin. it takes a while for him to fully accept that you don’t want atsumu, you want him. it really set it when you start bringing him the snack he pointed out in your lunch, setting it in front of him while you basically ignored a whining atsumu.

post graduation osamu who was so sad when atsumu was mad at him for quitting volleyball, he comes to you with his troubles, hoping you can help. you let him spew all of his feelings uninterrupted while pressed together on your bed. you wipe a stray tear from his eye and pull him impossibly closer for a hug.

college osamu who calls you almost every night, complaining about the work load he’s been given, or the fact that he wants to come back. when he does it’s the holidays and he celebrates with you first, then his family, and yes you’re there too. (his mother is a huge fan of you, she loooves you like her own:((( )

onigiri miya owner osamu who brings home extra food from his shop because he knows you love it. he totally didn’t make extra before closing. nope. you come to onigiri miya most days to visit him, despite living together. something about him and his uniform does something to your mind.

osamu miya who’s loved you since highschool <33

masterlist

[haikyuuusimp]

part1 part2 part3 part4

part4

Atsumu was devastated. Tears started flowing.

He tried contacting you for many days. Now it’s been years.

He misses you. He misses everything. And it’s too late.

He was wrong. What he had with Sakusa wasn’t love. They broke it off — maybe it was better off as just friends.

The truth?

Atsumu got scared. You were his future — the serious, forever kind. And deep down, he didn’t feel worthy. Sakusa offered something easier. Less pressure. Less responsibility. It wasn’t love — just comfort. A safe distraction he mistook for something more. But it was always you. Everything was always you.

He sits in the gym, sprawled out and exhausted. His fame increased. He’s winning more and more games.

But still… There’s something hollow in his heart.

He dreams of you every day.

Oh, how he wishes you'd come back to him.

His teammates tried to help him — even Sakusa.

“C’mon, man, just leave it. There are so many hot chicks out there.”

There were. Many models. Many superstars. But all he had in his mind was you.

He missed your touch. Your cooking. Your comfort. Your eyes. Your smile.

But it was too late.

So he kept his fake smile, his flirty attitude, and worked himself until he was no more.

Then one day, the coach called everyone up in front.

“Gather up. We have a program where you guys will go to schools and teach young kids how to play volleyball. It’ll help the club’s image.”

Bokuto and Hinata were very excited, practically jumping.

Sakusa clearly hated the idea — germs all around him.

Atsumu… well, he looked forward to it. He had nothing to lose.

Everyone was assigned different schools and warned not to get too excited or accidentally throw a ball at a kid’s face.

Atsumu went to his school — a small one, full of lovely kids.

He could tell some of the teachers had the hots for him.

But among all the kids, he noticed one quiet boy.

Something about him felt so familiar.

Then he saw the energetic girl next to him — she had the same eye color as him.

He could tell both were so excited to meet him.

“Oh my god! I’m a big fan!” the girl shouted. “I’m Aoi, and this is Akira!”

“We watch you on TV! You were soooo cool — like whoosh and bam! I wanna do that!”

“Oh, you wanna be a spiker, huh?”

“YEAHHH!! Akira always sets the ball to me — just like you! He’s sooo good at it!”

You could see Akira smiling shyly, trying to look unaffected.

Atsumu couldn’t help but chuckle at them.

They were so cute. They reminded him of… He couldn’t put his finger on it.

Teaching the kids was way more fun than he expected. He especially bonded with Akira and Aoi.

“Bye guys!! I’ll see you! I’ll miss youuu!!”

Atsumu truly enjoyed it.

As he was about to leave the school premises, he saw his two favorite kids (he knew he shouldn’t have favorites, but he couldn’t help it) running.

He was about to call out to them to say a final goodbye — until…

He saw who they were running to.

“Mommy! Mommy! Guess what!!”

Their voices faded.

All he saw… was you.

After years of waiting, everything he had hoped for stood right in front of him.

You looked tired. Thin.

But still… So. Beautiful.

So heartbreakingly beautiful.

His heart dropped.

“Atsumu!! There, that’s the one!” Aoi shouted excitedly, pointing at him.

You looked up.

Atsumu stood frozen, his breath caught in his chest. And you — wide-eyed, stunned — like time had just stopped.

You hadn’t changed. Still so achingly, devastatingly beautiful.

And in that moment, it all made sense.

Why Aoi’s eyes looked just like his. Why Akira’s quiet smile felt so familiar. Why he felt drawn to them without knowing why.

The pieces fell into place

They were his.

His children.

His heart dropped.

He staggered back a step, breath caught in his throat, chest tightening.

“They’re mine.”

mlist

[kiyuhai]

Observant Osamu Miya, who knew you since elementary, and knew that you had foods you aren’t fond of. He knew that despite the fact you eat whatever is on your plate, courtesy of your parents’ upbringing, you would wince and try to ignore the lingering taste of the vegetable you particularly dislike.

Observant Osamu Miya, who told you that you didn’t have to eat the food you don’t like. You just said that it's ingrained in you, so you still eat what's on your plate. 

Observant Osamu Miya, who, after that day,  made sure that the food made whenever you come around at their house or the food he brings over, doesn’t have the foods you don’t like. Atsumu called it favoritism, he called it caring for you. Besides, even at the young age of 8 Osamu liked seeing your smile when you eat.

Observant Osamu Miya, who started bringing you bento boxes during high school, carefully catered to your tastes. He made sure that the specific ingredient you dislike isn’t added in the dish. He makes sure that even if it was, its taste isn’t noticeable.

Observant Osamu Miya, who picks out the food you don't like out of your plate before giving it to you. Atsumu complains about favoritism (again), Osamu doesn’t bother correcting him.

Observant Osamu Miya, who loves seeing your smile when you eat foods you like.

[xoqox]

・┆✦ʚ ​ꜱʜᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀ(-)ᴡᴀʏ​ ɞ✦ ┆・

𖹭.ᐟ Chapter 08 ── girl lunch

𓍼cw: anxiety implications, cursing

masterlist || prev chapter || next chapter (coming soon)

a/n: sorry for the late update, i've been dealing with some health issues this month, but i'm doing better now! hopefully i'll get back on posting more regularly

likes & (<) reblogs are very much appreciated ♡

TAGLIST!! @itz-phantomz @sorrynotsorrh @reidsworld @nishinoyaismycutie @princessbrittnicole @softtashoney @lovley212 @captain-shittykawa @angelsleepinggurl @wakashudou @hiqhkey @riiceandsoup @spooky-cupid @asxprse

[kobrafangs]

save me miya twins .... miya twins save me

[kkumri]

redraws from the olympics! 🏐🏅🤺🤸🏻‍♂️

[qardenofeden]

contrary to popular belief, osamu miya is not any better than his twin brother, especially when he’s with you.

this must be your fourth date this month, and it’s barely even two weeks in. so, in order to save money, osamu proposes a little life hack. a cheat code, if you will.

“baby, i got this ring at a pawn shop,” he takes a small, rusty ring from his pocket and presents it to you as he continues, “i’ll pretend i’m proposin�� to ya and all ya gotta say is yes, okay? free dinner, easy peasy.”

you sigh, holding back your laughter as you pinch your temple. “‘samu, that’s unethical.”

“whaaaat? no way, come on, baby. we’ll get to go on dates more often if we do this,” he says, and you know you shouldn’t say yes. you should be the angel in this scenario, guiding him towards the right path. the path of the just and the good.

...but then again, why would osamu date you if you weren’t at least a tiny bit similar in terms of thinking?

“fine.”

“hells yeah!” he celebrates, looking around and waiting for one of the staff members to enter your vicinity. luckily, it doesn’t take long until a blonde girl walks to the table next to yours and starts cleaning up the leftover dishes the previous party has left behind.

osamu looks at you, grinning before he gets off the chair and gets on his knee. you cup your mouth with both your hands, seemingly in shock; though in reality, you’re doing it to prevent yourself from laughing like a madman.

“my sweet, beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend. i’ve loved you since i’ve known you, and i’ll love you for as long as i do. will ya marry me?”

and the restaurants’ guests just eat. it. up. the crowd cheers, much like how they do in his games, and they chant “yes, yes, yes!”

“yes!” you burst out in laughter, jolting out of your seat and hugging him. he lifts you up slightly before putting you back to the ground and kissing you, lips soft and at your mercy.

osamu puts a ring on your finger as the crowd yells and howls, and later that night, the manager approaches the two of you and tells you not to worry about the bill.

atsumu’s been rubbing off on your boyfriend too much.

and so this becomes a ritual, though you’re both careful not to overuse it. you reserve it for anniversaries and small celebrations, like his team winning a big tournament or you getting a high score from a grumpy professor.

and though it doesn’t always work, you guys at least get a little dessert on the house.

until one day, when you’re a high end, fancy restaurant. you’re wearing a silk, red dress with so much jewelry, you’re practically shining. the chandelier lights reflect off of his rolex watch, and you both have just finished eating.

“this place is really good, osamu. we should come here more often.” you take a sip of the wine, drinking in delight.

“yeah... hey babe, what’s that?” he points behind you and you turn immediately in curiosity.

“...huh? ‘samu, i don’t see anything,” you turn back around to face him, but lo and behold, osamu miya is down on one knee.

your eyes look around in shock, clearly taken aback. “wha— babe, we didn’t plan this?!”

“i know,” he chuckles, pulling out a ring similar to the one he bought at the pawn shop, except brighter, cleaner. with more diamonds than you could ever even imagine. “my love, i’ve loved you since i’ve known you, and i’ll love you for as long as i do. will ya marry me?”

sure is a good thing osamu’s got practice.

@deardoelle mwah

[gojofucker7]

no wayyyyyyyyy

a simple complication

cw: 1.6k wc, female reader, miscommunication my beloved, you have no idea how to confess your feelings to the one miya twin who doesn't remember what happened at suna's party

You’ve never once felt uncomfortable in a Miya household but, as you stand frozen by the doorstep, you realize that just might be about to change.

As you take a deep breath, relentless inner monologue giving its best shot at calming you down, Osamu suddenly swings the door open and you find yourself taking a wobbly step back, surprised. One garbage bag in hand, he looks equally startled.

“Hey”, he smiles after a moment, “what are ya doing?”.

You can barely look him in the eye, which only confuses him more.

“Nothing. I mean, I wanted to see you. Was hoping we could talk?”.

“Uh, sure. Come in, I’ll be right back”.

You quickly do as you’re told, take your shoes off by the door and gingerly shuffle to the couch before your brain decides you may in fact be too much of a coward to initiate the conversation at all.

The apartment seems empty, which indicates that Atsumu is either sleeping or simply not home. You try to remember how many drinks he had the previous evening, at Suna’s halloween party, but the entire night is still such a blur. Except from one specific detail that still makes heat crawl from your throat up to the roots of your hair.

God, how could you be so stupid? It’d be easy to blame it all on the stupid drinks Rintaro kept bringing you, liquid courage, a dumb wink sent your way as he casually suggested it was time you stopped being a pussy. No, it wasn’t entirely his fault, although you should’ve guessed nothing good would come out of a halloween party thrown in the middle of January.

You were in a pretty low effort costume, clown makeup, black dress. You’re all adults now, which made you think no one would actually commit to the bit as much as they did back in high school or during college, but were soon enough proved wrong as soon as you saw Aran and Rintaro respectively in a Daphne and Velma costume. They looked ridiculous and spectacular at the same time.

The twins were the only ones proving your theory, they both arrived to the party in casual clothes and not one bit of makeup on. A shame, the opportunity to see them wear mascara or eyeliner is rare but when they do men and women are affected all the same. You clearly remember once catching Rintaro himself staring at Osamu for a little too long.

“What’s up? Are ya hungry? Brought back some leftovers from the shop, we can have lunch if ‘Tsumu didn’t gobble those down”, his voice makes you jump and your friend stops by the couch, brows suddenly furrowed. “Or not. Are you okay?”.

“Yes!”, you should be relieved, honestly, he’s acting normal. Which means that maybe you didn’t ruin anything. Are you about to? Perhaps coming was a mistake-

“What did you want to talk about?”, Osamu has always been way too good at sensing other people’s emotions, he quickly forgets the lunch proposal and sits next to you instead, close enough for your legs to be pressed against each other. You feel like you may be about to combust.

You’ve known him almost all your life, high school feels like a century ago. The Miyas came as a package deal back then, one couldn’t exist without the other, but as time passed and adulthood shaped their lives in different ways, most people thought each finally got to exist as his own person. Those people were wrong: at least to you, they always held their own individuality. It’s what made them special. It’s what made you fall in love with Samu when he was still a hotheaded teenager, parts of that immature youth still flashing through his grown up demeanor, especially when he’s put in a room with his brother.

“I just wanted to tell you I really value our friendship. You know that, right?”, it feels like you might be about to cry, the way your voice is wavering. He cocks his head.

“Why are ya being so formal?”, Osamu offers a warm chuckle.

“You know that, right?”, you insist.

“I do”, his features soften, “not sure what I’d do without you, honestly”.

You only realize you’re tormenting your fingers when he covers your nervous hands with his own, warm and solid and so much bigger. Once more, it reminds you of the previous night and suddenly you’re worried you might truly cry. The twins don’t do well with tears, every single time they’ve seen you cry throughout the years, they always comically panicked as they awkwardly tried to offer some comfort. It never worked. You wish Kita was here to save the day, just like he always did back then.

“Samu, I’m sorry”, you murmur.

“For what? Now you’re worrying me”, he squeezes your hands in his and you look up from your lap to meet his perturbed gaze.

Like a slap in the face, it hits you. He doesn’t remember. Now, this is a scenario you didn’t prepare yourself to face.

Osamu gently bumps his forehead against yours and you almost throw up on the spot.

“Hey? Care to let me in that pretty little head of yours?”.

“You don’t remember?”, you don’t mean for it to come out in such an accusing pitch but it’s inevitable.

“Don’t remember what?”.

Incredulous, you stare back at him. The front door opens once more and this time you both jump. You’re too shocked to pay attention to Atsumu entering the living room, back from a run and dripping with sweat. Samu’s hands on yours can only remind you of how it felt having them briefly take your face in them as he clumsily tried to kiss you back, or maybe push you away, who can tell? You were too drunk and clearly he was too. You basically jumped his bones in Suna’s hallway, thank god no one walked by to witness the way you ran away right after. You wish you were drunk enough to forget that too.

“Hi”, Atsumu says and you’re too absorbed by the vortex of your mortifying thoughts to notice how he awkwardly clears his throat.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu”, you say back distractedly, gaze kept on Samu’s coffee table.

“Go take a shower, you’re dripping on my counter”, Osamu barks as his brother casually opens the fridge to take out a protein shake.

“What’s for lunch?”, Atsumu ignores the order and flashes him a grin instead.

“My elbow in yer ribs if ya don’t go take a shower right now”.

“Jeez, fine. I’ll leave you both to it”.

Osamu furrows his brows as he watches Atsumu disappear upstairs with his shake and an amused grin he’s unable to interpret. It dawns on him that you barely talked to each other, which is usually not what happens. You’re disgustingly close, always have been walking the line between being siblings and something else he’s never really been able to pinpoint. He remembers once asking Atsumu if he liked you and he knows his brother well enough to be sure he was being sincere when he scrunched his face and shook his head no. Not like that.

Osamu would lie if he said he never wondered whether you could like him like that. But you’ve never been as… relaxed with him. It feels like Atsumu is the brother you’re most comfortable with and all these years he’s patiently waited for the news to drop, the relationship to start. Except it never did. He still wonders if ‘Tsumu had to friendly turn you down at some point. He still wonders if you could ever like the Miya you’re clearly less relaxed with, instead.

“What did I forget?”, Osamu gently grabs your chin to make sure you look up and meet his gaze once more. Your mouth feels dry.

“We…”, no, you can’t just say that. We kissed. Incorrect. More like you jumped him in a clearly drunken state and he was too much of a gentleman to fully push you away. It’s a faint memory, his hands on your face, and you can’t recall at all if his lips moved along with yours at some point. They most likely didn’t. And now, if you tell him, you’ll ruin everything. Maybe you should just keep quiet, be a coward and bury the whole thing in a place within your chest, inaccessible to anyone but your sense of guilt.

“We what?”, for a moment, Osamu’s exceptionally gentle tone, paired with his proximity, is inebriating enough to make you want to kiss him again. Then, something odd catches your attention and you blink a few times, surprised.

“What’s this?”, you reach to slightly pinch part of his dark hair between your thumb and pointer finger, to remove what looks like a gold grain. It’s dry and barely visible on your fingertip.

He follows your gaze and lets you go, slightly pulling back with a smile.

“Ah, that. I thought I washed it all off”, Osamu casually runs a hand through his hair a few times, “it’s temporary color spray”.

“You’re gonna dye your hair again?”.

“Nah. ‘Tsumu thought it’d be hilarious if we came to the party with a costume no one would notice. I think only Shinsuke guessed it by the end of the night and even he wasn’t so sure”, he offers a handsome grin but you feel petrified.

“What costume?”.

“We went as each other! Ya couldn’t tell us apart, could ya?”.

His amused smile slowly melts away as he takes in your horrified expression, eyes growing bigger by the second.

“Are you oka-”

“Oh my god”.

[haikyu-mp4]

You’re cuddled up in Osamu’s arms one peaceful Sunday morning, lazing under the sheets until you hear Osamu’s stomach growling.

He groans, pulling you even closer, which in turn makes you snuggle into him even more.

“I’m so hungry,” he mumbles. You hum to confirm you heard him but make no further attempt at doing anything about it. “So hungry that… I could eat… You.”

Chomp!

That's the only warning you get before you feel Osamu’s teeth clutch onto the thicker part of your arm, munching loosely and making fake gnawing noises.

“Samuuu!!” you squeal, twisting to try and escape but finding his arms much too strong.

‘My boyfriend ate me out this morning,’ your friend would share later over a glass of wine, definitely bragging.

‘My boyfriend just ate me altogether,’ you would sigh in response.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

masterlist

[bowtiepasta]

osamu god of aftercare miya who doesn’t know what leaving is. in gray sweats, shirtless, a ‘kiss the cook’ apron on while he’s making you breakfast the morning after? you don’t really want him to leave anyway.

butter, pancakes, and some secret third thing, pulls you from the haze of sleep before you even open your eyes. the sheets beside you are empty but still warm, proof that osamu hasn’t been up for long.

when you stir, stretching lazily, the first thing you see is him: standing by the stove in nothing but his sweatpants and an apron that hangs loose around his bare chest. he rolls his shoulders back, muscles bunching, the former act to perfectly flipping a sunnyside egg — yolk intact.

“you’re starin’,” he drawls, not looking away from the pan. who wouldn’t be? sleep is evident in his hair, apron dusted lightly with flour, and there’s a faint pink mark on his shoulder turning purple, one you don’t remember leaving but feel smug about anyway.

“you’re in my apartment, my kitchen, making me breakfast,” you manage to carry the tone through a mumble, “I think I’m allowed to look.”

he huffs out a laugh, setting a fresh pancake onto the growing stack on the counter. “fair enough.”

“planning on leaving anytime soon?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ear and drizzling syrup over your portion. he stares a moment, eyes soft and crinkling at the ends, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I ain’t leavin’ until you're full.”

[bellotopo]

MYY THREE FAVSS!!! YIPPPPEEEE

All credits to freaka_loonyz!!! 🙇‍♀️🙏🧎‍♀️(FOLLOW THEM ON TIKTOK AND TWITTER!!!)

[noosayog]

[3:47 pm] ft miya osamu

wc: 700

--

When you slam open Atsumu’s bedroom door and plop yourself onto the carpet next to him, he barely looks up from his phone. 

“Ever heard of knocking?”

You lay belly down on the floor and scream into the worn fuzz of the carpet. 

“Gross. You know our bare, unwashed feet walk on this floor right?” 

He offers you a pillow and you take it, squishing it between the floor and your face. Atsumu waits for your breath to run out. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Atsumuuuuu…” you bemoan. “I’m going through a crisis.” 

He says nothing, continuing to scroll on his phone but you can tell you’ve garnered some of his interest. 

“I have a secret. Like one that I can’t tell anyone.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s so shameful. I’ve been keeping it to myself for, like, ever.”

“Yeah, I bet I couldn’t guess what it is.” The sarcasm is completely lost on you. 

“Yeah. You’d make fun of me. It’d be material for you to tease me for a lifetime,” you pause, take a deep breath. “I-

“-have a big fat crush on my brother?” 

You gape. “What?” 

He looks up from his phone. He blink at you, like you’re any simpleton. “You,” he says slowly, punctuating each word, ”have a big, fat, embarrassing, crutching, debilitating crush on my brother.” 

“I didn’t even realize you knew so many big words-”

“What?” 

The two of you freeze up. 

“‘Samu!” Atsumu exclaims. “Thought you weren’t gonna be back until later tonight.”

“I wasn’t.”

He gives no other explanation. You stay still, hoping that if you don’t move or breathe, he won’t notice you. The silence stretches.

“Ohhh.. kay. Well, I better go. You kids-”

You jolt awake at that, in disbelief that Atsumu would flee alone after what he’s done.

“I’ll go with!” You turn and run, making monumental efforts to avoid a dark eyes trained on you. 

You’re about to squeeze past when a hand slams against the doorframe, arm now blocking off your exit. Osamu stares hard at you while your gaze stays glued to the exit beyond, though it’s more like you’re staring at his bicep which is now stationed at your eye level. 

“I’m just gonna go…” you hear Atsumu mumble, ducking under Osamu’s arm barrier, stealing your escape route. 

“Jackass-” you mumble.

“Hey.” 

The low voice comes from right above your head.

“Osamu,” you greet, still staring at his arm. “I gotta go. I have plans-”

A finger comes up to lift your jaw. It’s careful, but still forceful. When your eyes finally meet his, the one finger turns into two which grip your chin in place. 

“Was what Atsumu said true?” 

It takes a lot for you to hold back a stutter. “Sounds like you heard him loud and clear to me,” you say, ready to slap his hand away. 

“I did.”

“Then why are you still asking-” 

“If it’s true,” he leans down, talking slowly. It makes you start to hyperventilate. You need a paper bag or something. “I don’t wanna hear it from my stupid brother.” 

His eyes are mesmerizing, captivating. Not even the many, many years of knowing him dulls the effect of his straightforward gaze on you. You think you hear someone concede, “it’s true.” 

“What’s true?” he whispers. He’s so close you feel his words ghost your mouth.

Autopilot talks. “That I have a big fat crush on you.” 

He eats up the next millimeter of space. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.

Suddenly, his neck is caged inside of your arms and you’re licking up his familiar minty breath and surely this all isn’t your doing because your brain is still catching up. 

His smile widens against your lips and you can feel the smugness radiate off him. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have interrupted, then.” 

That clears the fog. You shove his shoulders away and try to ignore the fact that he doesn’t go very far.

“Why?” you demand. 

He kisses you again. “‘Cause my brother’s got a big mouth.” 

You tilt your head in confusion. Osamu takes it as an invitation to slot his face better against yours. 

His kiss almost makes you forget your train of thought, but that’s okay because he answers your question anyway. 

“And he probably would’ve blabbed that I have a big fat crush on you too.”

[drawnbymabel]

happy birthday!!