#i got way too carried away

[ohitslen]

Twitter doodles!

(close ups for the first one below and a small extra as well :D)

[somewhereincairparavel]

🐚 Daughter of Neptune headcanons list... 🌊 part three

Note: ahhh finally done with this unexpected series. Also, this is twice as long as the previous two parts, I got soo carried away haha, well you can't blame me, writing is so fun! This is the last part of this headcanon series, I had so much fun writing this?? Even though I had like a mini writer's block at first, I swear I started typing this part out having no idea what I was doing, but it all turned out better than I expected. This part is not just Jason x reader but it also includes so much platonic stuff with the others of the seven + Reyna + Nico. It's just so fluffy omgg. Happy reading! Thank you sm for all the notes you guys have given me for the previous two parts! Tell me if you guys enjoyed it, do you think I should consider writing more of these headcanon stuff in the future?

Part one: https://www.tumblr.com/somewhereinhogsmeade/746404816602972160/daughter-of-neptune-headcanons?source=share

Part two: https://www.tumblr.com/somewhereinhogsmeade/746489087922520064/daughter-of-neptune-headcanons-list-part-two?source=share

•After Jason woke up on the bus, he'd actually remember your eyes and voice VERY clearly. Because those were his two favorite things about you. But Hera had whacked him on the head pretty badly, so he couldn't remember ALL the details about you in the beginning, like Percy did. (I honestly wanted to make him remember you fully even after Hera wiped his memory off, but that would be too similar to Percy and Annabeth lol so I didn't want it to be cliche sorry)

•Now you guys may be wondering, what about Piper and Jason? Okay Piper would admit her feelings for him, but Jason would turn her down, albeit politely though, because it felt utterly wrong. He knew about this special person in his forgotten life, even though her figure was wispy and blurry. He never had any attraction towards Piper, she was a good friend, sure, and it didn't matter how pretty people thought Piper was, because those black Obsidian eyes of the mystery girl he was so familiar with, was alone prettier by every means. (We all love a loyal whipped Jason who thinks that a pair of eyes are more beautiful than a daughter of Aphrodite)

•He knew you were special. He knew that he didn't belong there, in the wilderness school. He knew that he was miles away from home. His real home. But the name of that home never came to him. •the moment he looked at his SPQR tattoo, though, it would bring him vigorous flashes of you and him sparring in a training room.

•Aeolus the wind god, would remind Jason of the time you and him stayed at his palace to slay Trojan the sea monster. Well, of course you went, how can you go to slay a sea monster without taking a sea child with you? Right? That was the last quest you and Jason went on before he disappeared.

Aeolus would trigger that one memory in Jason. Thank the gods for Aeolus. That one memory trigger is what made everything gush back to Jason like a tide.

•He’d remember your name, finally. His Best friend. His crush. His maybe girlfriend. He'd remember his friends from his home. Camp Jupiter. Gosh. He felt such a burst of energy simply by saying that name. Now, he felt homesick.

So you could imagine the excitement he felt, when Leo was building the argo ii. He'd practically gush about you to Leo, and even Piper would be super cool with it. Over the course of the months, Piper realized that Jason and her were not romantically compatible at all, it was all Hera’s mist. She didn't even know what she was thinking, crushing on someone who was so different from her on every level. So now Piper and Jason were like homie coded.

You were super worried after Percy told you that the new, Greek ship, the argo ii would land today. Which was pretty weird, since it meant that Jason was coming back to you. Why were you worried?

•Well, for lots of reasons, what if Jason didn't remember you anymore, what if he lost his feelings for you, what if he found someone else? The stress was real.

•Without even realizing it, you poured your thoughts out to Percy, whom you initially refused to tell about your’s and Jason's.. er.. situationship.

•Percy, would surprisingly be chill about it?? Like you were expecting some panicking now that he knew his sister was romantically involved with someone.

•Percy would calmly tell you that Jason wouldn't stop loving you, proudly pointing to himself as an example, that he never stopped loving annabeth even after the Hera Fiasco. Well. He had a point. That boy was still whipped for his girl.

•So when you locked eyes with Jason, and saw the familiar gleam in his eyes, you knew, he didn't forget. You forgot how piercing his blue eyed gaze was,because it made you feel stuff erupting from your stomach lol (blud is the definition of 🧿👄🧿)

•Without even caring about what your fellow Romans thought, Jason and you would just lunge onto each other tbh. Its canon that Jason is the best hugger ever, so it would be a rib crushing kinda hug.

•You would be SO relieved that he'd remember you and he'd be so relieved that you didn't move on.

•You guys wouldn't kiss, not yet. You still haven't exactly acknowledged your relationship status, BUTTT you do the cheesy af forehead touch thing (you could have sworn percy fake-gagged LOL)That's when Jason noticed your praetor badge, he’d be stunned, and would ask you for details, you’d simply point to the golden eagle perched at the end of the senate house and tell him that you and percy got elected after you both returned the eagle together.

He’d fall in love all over again omgg the heart eyes he’d give youuu. He knew that you were downplaying your achievements tho, so he’d secretly ask Reyna for the full details lol. (Reyna was a proud mom, so she’d give Jason ALLL the deets)

•okay so when Annabeth judo flips percy, you'd be SO taken aback lol, you’d even get a lil uncomfortable bc well that's YOUR brother getting attacked by a random girl- so initially you’d be ready af to throw hands.But after Percy starts laughing you’d realize that THAT'S annabeth. Like Percy's Annabeth. Dam, your brother was with a fierce girl.ANYWAYS, Percy would introduce Annabeth to you proudly, like “THIS is MY sister” (so dramatic and for what reason)

Annabeth would initially be very nervous around you, because, one, she didn't know that Poseidon had ANOTHER kid, gods know what havoc you and percy would cause together, two, you meant a lot to percy and she could clearly see that, an idiot could deny how much love your brother had for you, so she was determined to not mess up her reputation around you, ESPECIALLY after she the look on your face when she flipped Percy (you had a hot temper, need i mention, so without even realizing it, you had directed a very fierce glare at her, oopsie).

Octavian would again, not give up in trying remove your’s and percy’s praetorship by going “Oh there cant be four praetors its against the rules” blah blah that's where percy intervenes with his legendary “we all outrank you loser” lol

So after the group’s lunch scene where they discuss the prophecies and stuff. You, Reyna and Jason would actually talk amongst yourselves, after you guys came to the conclusion that you will have to join the gang in the argo ii. Jason would secretly be overjoyed that he doesn't need to separate from you anymore but you guys would still be sad that Reyna wouldn't be able to come.

This also meant that you would have to give your praetorship up. Gosh your positions in camp Jupiter somehow never stuck permanently, you'd even joke about that. And Reyna would have to handle Camp Jupiter by herself now that all three of you left, But Reyna assured you that it wasn't your fault.

Okay enough with the plot yapping I did. Bc if I continue it would go on for ages. The main reason you're here is because of reader x jason and I'm kinda deviating from that a little.

It would actually take so long till you and Jason get alone time on the argo ii because of group discussions and coach Hedge lol But you both would meet at the deck at like 2 AM (this kinda reminded you both of the times you and he would sneak out to explore New Rome at night.) That's where you both could feel the tension in the air lol. So many unresolved and unrequited feelings on both ends, how would you approach that?

But thankfully, being best friends first gave you guys an upper hand to moving forward in the relationship very quickly. You'd just start off talking about each other's respective journeys in your respective camps. He'd tell you about the quest with Leo and Piper, and you'd tell him about what went on in Camp Jupiter while he was gone.

That's when you realize that Jason looked a little different than when he left. His hair was Messier, a little longer, no more neatly cropped, his azure eyes sparkled when he spoke of Camp half blood, and the war games they had, how different it was from Camp Jupiter, etc.

But instead of feeling upset about how much Jason enjoyed the other camp, you'd feel relief. Relieved that Jason no longer looked stressed anymore, he'd always held this fatigue in his eyes, while he was at camp Jupiter , it was no wonder, considering the politics he'd had to engage in to prove the worth of the twelfth legion, his leader duties + vigorous training had tired him out, but now, some of the fatigue his eyes held had vanished.

Camp half blood seemed to be the place for him. Now you were itching to go to this mystery camp your maybe boyfriend AND your brother seemed to love so much.

Jason would be super nervous to tell you that he liked it better at camp half blood, and that he secretly wanted you to come and stay with him there though. Because he felt like he was betraying his Roman life. He felt like he was betraying your past.

So when he'd tell you, he'd just yap and yap about it out of nervousness. That's when it happened. That's when you kissed him. You would just pull him in. Period.

He'd be super flustered at first, neck reddening and all, but he'd just lean in and be so into it (he's a neck grabber, fight me) You'd think that as a military dude, the guy would be a bad kisser. Hell no. His dad's the chief of getting all the bitches, he ain't letting his son embarrass him by having no charm lol

OH OH and speaking of the old man, The moment your's and Jason's lips met, you would hear a clasp of thunder and see huge steaks of lightning explode in the sky.

You had to admit, the thought of your dad's watching as you both kissed made you feel weird lol

But if Zeus had hated you so much, he would've zapped you to electrons by now, and if Poseidon had hated jason so much, he would've drowned him. But thankfully, neither happened.

After lots of long deep conversations (and kissing)You both would reach the decision that after the whole gaia situation is over, you'd both stay at Camp half blood, but, you'd both return to settle in New Rome as you grew up. I mean, it's Camp Jupiter that you both dislike staying in, not the city itself. The city is paradise for demigods.

But the fates ruined it, so despite gaia’s defeat (No leo is alive and well here okay) after Jason took up the responsibility of building shrines for minor gods, he had to go back and forth between both the camps.

But you, Reyna, Hazel and Frank would help Jason with the minor gods in Rome, While Jason took care of the Greeks. This made his job a tad easier.So the downside was that you kinda had to do long distance for a while AND you hadn't even visited camp half blood yet (Which got on Percy's nerves, the poor boy wanted to show you around his Camp and cabin SO badly, but the fates never left you or Jason alone. The Romans always had duties in front of them.)

But because you, Reyna, Frank, Hazel, Annabeth, and even Leo helped Jason with the shrine stuff. The job got done a lot quicker.

You both were finally at peace.So as a celebration to finishing the shrine project, Percy and Jason DRAGGED you to camp half blood and had the whole day spent with all of the 7 (including Reyna and Nico).

When I tell you, you've never had THIS much fun ALL your life omg.

You never got to bond with Leo, Piper or Annabeth properly because of the war, and stuff. But today? It was like you guys have been friends since forever.

You played capture the flag, You and Percy used up your water shenanigans to put on the most dramatic fountain show EVER (Annabeth was right in her judgment, you both were completely chaotic together) she realized how fun you actually were, not even half as grumpy as you looked. After you and Percy caused a huge avalanche that almost turned into a hail storm (which was prevented by wind boy Jason) Leo told you guys to stop flexing your fancy shmancy weather powers.

Piper taught you guys how to surf, which only ended in You and Percy somehow splattering water on each other and you aggressively tackling him into the bottom of the ocean, WHICH ended in a chaotic “who can swim faster?’’ competition between you both, You both were SO dedicated that you created a huge bubble to bring everyone into the bottom of the ocean to spectate (Frank turned into a sea urchin though lol)

You and Percy ended up in an argument over who won. Mind you, if you read part one, you'd know that Percy and you have this ability to telepathically converse with each other underwater, but only you both understand, so it would end up looking like you're making strangled fish noises to the others. Nico, Piper, and Leo were absolutely hysterical. Jason was amused but so clueless. Hazel was mortified, while Annabeth and Reyna hoped you and Percy didn't kill each other. And Frank? He was still an urchin.

Also, since You, Jason, Percy, Annabeth, Hazel and Frank would all go to New Rome College together, you guys would have SO many double dates together omgg.

I forgot to mention, you met Tyson and Percy's new little sister Estelle, so now your sibling group has expanded even more.

did i mention that percy and you would have matching dolphin plushies? yeah. he'd have the blue and you'd have the grey

Tyson would love you sm omg :( he'd keep making you stuff every time you showed up in camp half blood.

Also, Sometimes when Percy and Annabeth would be busy, You and jason would so babysit Estelle (which Sally would adore) Jason would so take Estelle flying.

can I just take this moment to emphasize how much Sally would care about Jason?? Like after hearing jason’s erm tragic past, Sally would get so protective of him and give him sm food and everything :( Jason would get a little emotional too. Like you can just see his eyes tearing up whenever Sally hugs him :(((

Even though Reyna joined the hunters, You and Jason would make it a point to see her at least Every two weeks. She'd be so proud of how far you and Jason had come, even after the long break that temporarily had your relationship on hold. Now Reyna could sleep peacefully lol since the poor girl had seen you both hopelessly pining for eachother since you were like 9 lol

She had listened to you telling her that you weren't good enough for Jason to like you back, AND him telling her that he wasn't good enough for you, after all.

Okay after you guys got older, because of the amount of services you and Jason had done for Camp Jupiter, you guys would end up receiving such a cool house in New Rome as a gift (it's like the least you deserved for all that you've been through lol) It would have a fancy Roman bath and everything. and even better, it was not far from where percy and Annabeth were living. So it was a win win.

You and Jason would totally iris message Nico at least once a week, you both were basically proud parents when you see Nico all lovey dovey in a relationship with Will. (Is this how Reyna felt seeing you and Jason? Maybe, yes)

Also, you and Thalia met not long after she came to Rome to check out the minor god's shrines. She loved you, like almost immediately, Jason iris messaged her atleast twice a week, so he told her all about you. So Thalia would be SO happy that someone was treating her lil bro right. He deserved that.

Speaking of family, Zeus had just grudgingly accepted that you were his son's girlfriend lol Poseidon would actually be a little chill about it. He wasn't as judgemental as his brother. But just because you and Jason were dating didn't mean that your dad's didn't stop having a go at each other lol

But you both would make it a point to start aggressively kissing eachother whenever you spot statues of your dad's placed next to eachother. Simply to piss them off. And it works. Every. Single. Time.

You would hear a clasp of thunder each time you do this. You and Jason would just look at eachother and burst into giggles. It was a tradition now between you both.

Sometimes Jason would still look at you like you were made of stardust, and vice versa.

In the end, you and Jason were what people called “Childhood Sweethearts”

[mrsthunderkin]

"This book is incredibly unrealistic, my love"

[hallous]

dance

[mroddmod]

friends don't lie, but sometimes sisters do

[itoshi-s]

i'm sorry i'm sorry i saw your tag about older brother's best friend aiku and i actually SCREAMED because that's such a thought inducing idea . . . he does have that vibe, and he pulls it off so well !! i feel like he fits the trope of someone you've known your whole life but who was always just a bit too old for you to actually spend time with — until you eventually get a bit older too and start getting closer with him and that's when the fun starts yk lmao

i'm- babes i am looking so respectfully this is SO right 🤕

˚୨୧⋆ 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑖𝑎

wc: 1.3k. cw: slightly suggestive, reader is referred to as sister/might be femcoded, this started as a drabble and well.. we're here now, could be dc potential, could just be some pining ꒰ minors/ageless blogs dni ꒱

you've known aiku since what feels like forever, and he's always had this confident, slightly intimidating aura to him, even back when all three of you were just kids. the age gap between you two wasn't anything crazy, at least not by the time you were both grown adults, but the four years seemed to pose more of a problem back when you were still in school. you were always a bit timid around your brothers friends, palms growing clammy when you'd have to come into his room and call them for dinner or fetch something - but they were only ever nice to you anyway. you were just there, your brother's little sister, perhaps a bit too young to fully understand their jokes or why they're so clumsy when stumbling up the stairs at 3 am. but hey, it's not like you felt bad about it, really.

your brother and his friends were good kids, however - oliver included. never got into too much trouble, always so respectful when coming over and talking to your parents. by the time your brother dropped soccer somewhere in the middle of high school, aiku was already considered a national gem and proudly carried the weight of being japan's hope.

finally about to step into the lifestyle you saw your brother and all his friends engage in for the past few years, you weren't surprised at all to only ever see aiku, the nicest one of the group (the most handsome, too) on the tv screen anymore. he's left for some kind of soccer project, then got scouted by the ubers back in italy, and you truly felt so happy for the boy after everything you've seen him go through. the two of you wasn't exactly close, not at all, but he's always been so kind to you, told you sincere words on how you should never give up your dreams no matter how silly they felt; helped you with the stupid physics project that your brother couldn't figure out for the life of him, either (it runs by blood, after all).

you don't keep in touch with any of the guys, but stumble upon some of them on the streets of your hometown ever so often. you exchange smiles, familiarize each other with what you're up to now, then go off with your day as usual.

(you don't know each of them teases your brother on how well you've grown. he tells them to shut the fuck up every time cause, fuck, the thought alone is gross, and he'd rather kill them than allow you to get involved with either of 'em.)

oliver's the one you see the rarest. it's only natural with his field of work, busier than anything any of you could ever put your minds to. it is kind of funny to see his face on gossip sites, though, so if there's ever any disappointment threatening to build up on you, it works just well to ease it.

the first time you properly meet him again after three or four years is when you just happen to be going through the worst shift you've had in ages, and he's the one most annoying client, casually stepping into the store mere minutes away from closing.

"aiku-kun?" you sound surprised when you make out the familiar features, sharp yet warm eyes flickering under the bright lights when he grins.

he sets the ramune bottle down, pushing it in your direction.

"in the flesh", he chuckles, "you doing night shifts now?" the man asks, almost sounding just as taken aback (one thing he remembers about you is that you've never liked to stay up late, and hated being out when it got dark).

you just give a shrug.

oliver learns you're not silent because you're busy ringing him up or still shocked to see him - you sniff and wipe at your eyes haphazardly and only then does he realize that you're feeling down, and probably cried at the back minutes before he came in.

"they're paying me better for these," you mumble, manicured nail tapping on the register. you don't look up when speaking, too embarrassed to let him see you this messed up when he looks so stupidly handsome. italy treated him well- time, too. "is that a-"

you glance up upon the sound of clinking glass. there's another bottle of soda standing next to his, and it just happens to be your favorite flavor, too.

(he remembered, and as sweet as it is, it's not a big deal. then why are you blushing? why are your palms suddenly clammy, like back in the old times?)

"wrap it up, i'll be waiting outside." oliver offers, thick lashes fluttering as he blinks. almost expectantly, but it's not like he wants to pressure you into agreeing. (it'd be nice, though. and you just happen to be as meek as always, and crumble under the intensity of his gaze instantly - as if that's what his true motive was all along.) "unless you're busy?"

you shake your head, wiping your hands on the back of your jeans. "no, not at all."

you join oliver on a quiet drive down the streets of your neighbourhood, eventually reaching the local view spot that you've spent all too many late nights at - both of you. the only difference's that it's all nostalgia to him, and it's still your very present, a weekly way to hang out - perhaps just following what your older siblings did.

and even though it's your very first time sitting in a car so expensive, the defender's presence is oddly comforting. familiar, in a way, and you only ever realize how much you've missed it when he wordlessly encourages you to open yourself up before him. he's always been so effortlessly charming, inviting in a way - and he still is, even though your heart wants to leap out of your chest when his fingers brush along yours as he helps you push the round marble down.

"so," the brunette clears his throat, "he dumped you over a text?" he knocks the bottle neck of his drink with yours, bicolored gaze seemingly burning through you as he watches you nod.

you hum, taking a sip of the bubbly beverage and looking out the city's panorama. oliver rolls his eyes, rubbing at the nape of his neck and leaning back in his seat.

"that's a real dick move, you know?" he states matter-of-factly, to which you snort, "guys like that don't deserve your tears, kid."

"says who," you quip. from your peripheral, you notice him turn his head back to you. "i've seen the articles, loverboy. m'not sure if you're the best advisor." you tease, cheek resting on top of your bare shoulder as you grin at him.

the man bites back a laugh, canines on show when he smiles to himself and frankly, the sight's making your tummy flutter with an unknown, fairly new feeling, no matter how much you try to ward the butterflies off.

you don't know it yet, and aiku's quite sure of it, actually - there's the exact same sensation bubbling somewhere in his chest, too, when he shamelessly, ravenously takes in the soft glow of your skin, decolletage on show thanks to the tiny spaghetti strap top you're wearing. your eyes are as wide as ever, despite all the burdens and daily struggles simmering behind your affection and interest-blown pupils, and there's this almost dreamy, captivating smile, one that beautifully compliments your now more womanly-like, refined features.

perhaps it's better you don't ever become familiar with the thoughts that start to simmer in his head - you, moaning into his mouth as he steals kisses from those taunting, plush lips of yours, that he's sure currently taste of the artificial sweet pineapple you're sipping on; you, down on your knees in front of him, giving him the same soft, gullible look, on the verge of pleading for all the attention he forwent in the past.

and fuck, he's aware of it - annoyingly so - but oliver has agreed to let go of a few too many things in life already.

you're not about to be one of them, too.

© itoshi-s. do not plagiarize, repost as your own or mention on other sm platforms.

[skyeslittlecorner]

Can I request a Raphael x angel MC please 🥺

The Gabriel x Michelle and Lucifer x Michael were so good 😭😭

I'm stuck with you and your scenarios now 😠

You're welcome, dear~! I see my total eclipse of the brain bring some good after all. I hope I will be able to fulfill this request. Rafael is on the verge of being a character I dare write for, but let's try.

It was all your fault, that you make Raphael feel so special, then forget about it, and after all, you died. Lowly, pathetic human being. How dare you? Do you think he will forgive you for this? Tsk. Not only stupid, but naive, too. You are lucky that you chose to be reincarnated in heaven. Maybe there's still a chance for your pitiful soul.

And *maybe* you will repent if stop teasing him and start to suck.

Even though you were below him, licking his piercing and letting him tug at your hair, you knew who was boss. Poor, unaware angel. Blessing? Being the chosen one? Good joke. Only few strokes and his tip was already covered with whitish ooze. You raised an eyebrow and snickered.

“And who is the pathetic one?” 

He grabbed your hair harder. 

“Shut... up. Do your work.”

“Truly pathetic…” Your tongue stroked his trembling manhood. “Swayed so easily.”

“Enough!” 

As you opened your lips once more, he thrusted deep inside your mouth. Smiled vindictively as you chocked. He wanted you to lose your breath, to finally be quiet, and obediently end the act of his ascension. As cruelly, as holy. New madness hitted his insides as you murmured with a trickle of saliva ran down your chin.

“Better…” Those full cheeks, clenched throat and murderous intent in your eyes make you both dirty and perfect. Perfect to be used. Clouded with pleasure, he thought that he found his new favorite toy.

All Raphael stans! Let me redirect you to @livelaughlovesubs and her wonderful fics - here you got first and second part. I assume you've already seen it, if not, check it out~ She can write and catch his personality way better than me

[paperultra]

THE FIVE NONSENSES

[ SOULMATE!AU ] Pairing: Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader x Miya Atsumu Summary: Like most people, you do not meet the Miya twins so much as they are thrust upon you. Unlike most people, you are thrust upon them as well. read on ao3 | read on quotev

CHAPTER THREE: SMELL Word Count: 8,205 words Warnings: Swearing

“Hey, you! Join the photography club!”

You narrowly dodge the flyer thrust in front of your face, knocking back into someone in the process. Flustered, you move in the opposite direction, only to knock shoulders with another student walking the other way. Both of your apologies get lost in the noise.

“Join the basketball team! Winter Cup finalists two years in a row!”

“Improve your focus in calligraphy club!”

“Join kyudo club!”

“Join marching band!”

With a small huff, you grab the strap of Osamu’s schoolbag and squeeze through the crowd. Osamu looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his raised eyebrow with a grimace; not long after, a hand presses between your shoulder blades to usher you forward.

“Dammit,” Atsumu grumbles, digging his phone out of his pocket. “Where’s the volleyball club?”

“Hell if I know,” Osamu says. “Call Aran.”

“’S what I’m doin’, dumbass.” Punching a few buttons, the other boy presses his phone against his ear with visible impatience. “Aran!” Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as Atsumu’s voice carries high over the clamor surrounding you, causing several students to swivel their heads. “Where the hell’s the volleyball club? … Class 1-7? Seriously?”

Hanging up without so much as a thank-you, Atsumu quickens his stride down the congested hallway. Osamu follows suit, and you end up seizing the back of his blazer as the three of you head to Class 1-7, evading arms and signs and flyers the entire way.

Having visited the school before to watch Ojiro play, you had known that Inarizaki High School is big; navigating it as a student on the first day of school, however, is a whole different animal. You hadn’t realized it was this big. Or this crowded. After a year of being large fish in a small pond, you now find yourselves in an ocean.

At least you have the twins to rough it with.

(It should be noted that your thankfulness varies wildly from hour to hour.)

Near the entrance to Class 1-7, you spot Ojiro wielding a bright sign advertising the volleyball club. He easily stands head and shoulders above most of the other students, and the sight of a familiar face helps you relax – even though you’d just seen him at graduation a few weeks ago, he somehow looks older here, comfortable and self-assured in the raucous halls of Inarizaki.

“Yo! Aran!” Osamu and Atsumu call out, running up to the second-year. You, still holding onto Osamu’s blazer, are unceremoniously yanked along.

Ojiro perks up and grins widely when you all reach him, freeing one hand to bump fists with the twins. “’Bout time you guys showed up. Thought ya chickened out or somethin’,” he exclaims, then nods at you with a grin. “Good to see you here too, [L/n]-chan.”

You smile back. “Hi, Ojiro-senpai.”

(Of all the people the twins consider friends, which have always been rather scant in number, you like Ojiro Aran the best.)

“Chickened out?” Atsumu scoffs. “No way. You scrubs are gonna need us if ya wanna win nationals this year.”

A laugh bursts out of Ojiro’s chest. “Don’t ya think you’re gettin’ a little ahead of yerself?”

“Yeah, well, what’s new?” Osamu pipes up. He elbows his brother’s side, jabbing a thumb at the doorway when the latter chokes up and glares. “Hurry yer ass up, ‘Tsumu, we haven’t even signed up yet.”

You cough. Ojiro laughs again, leading the three of you into the classroom.

There’s a ton of students already inside when you enter. In one corner of the room is the girls’ volleyball club, and in the other is the boys’, though many are mingling and wandering around to chat. A few are upperclassmen wearing the Inarizaki volleyball team’s jacket – the rest, you assume, are first-years hoping for a chance to join.

It’s not surprising for a school that’s gone to the Spring Tournament almost thirty times. Most of these applicants will be benched for their entire high school career.

Following Ojiro to the desk for the boys’ volleyball club, you encounter the two people sitting behind it.

“Arata-senpai, Kobayashi-senpai,” Ojiro announces, clapping one hand on Osamu’s shoulder and the other on Atsumu’s, “got a package deal for ya.”

The first thing you notice about Arata is how tall he is when he’s sitting down. Then he slowly stands up, and your eyes widen as he keeps going and going, finally stopping about half a head taller than Ojiro.

Arata breathes in, vulpine eyes narrowing, before he slams his hands down on the desk with a loud thwap.

“If it ain’t the Miya twins!” he chirps, voice much peppier than expected, and you choke back a surprised laugh. “I watched yer match last year at nationals. You two think ya have what it takes to be part of a powerhouse?”

“Why talk big when we can just show ya, senpai?” Atsumu says, as if he hadn’t been gassing himself up to Ojiro moments before. He pulls out his signup sheet, already filled out in his usual large, messy print, and slides it over to the captain, leaning over the desk with one hand on his hip. “Got yers, ’Samu?”

“Yup.” Osamu slides his over as well, handwriting slightly neater.

Arata takes the sheets happily. Your gaze falls upon his hands by chance, and then it remains there, taking stock of the scribbles of purple and red decorating his skin.

Ojiro whistles. “Looks like yer soulmate’s havin’ fun with some gel pens,” he comments, pointing at Arata’s hands.

“Hm?” The other boy blinks and takes a moment to inspect the words curving below his knuckles. His brow furrows, and he squints before finally breaking out into a goofy smile. “Ah,” he says, and his voice takes on a distinctly fonder, dreamier tone, “guess they are. They’ve been practicin’ hiragana a lot lately. See? Pretty good, eh?” Arata stretches his hands out face-down, showing them off.

(You can barely read the characters.)

“Neat,” Atsumu says, though his tone has flattened just slightly.

“Right?” Arata doesn’t seem to notice. “We’re gonna finally see each other in person next summer after I graduate. They’re graduating high school this June in Spain …”

“He’s really excited,” Ojiro mutters to the three of you, “in case ya couldn’t tell.”

The volleyball captain’s cheeks turn an endearing shade of pink. “What’s wrong with that, huh, Ojiro? I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with them, so it’s a good sign I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

Next to you, Osamu shifts and shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. You feel his elbow brush against your arm, bare skin separated by layers of fabric.

The rest of your life.

A strange feeling forms in the pit of your stomach. It’s the same kind you get whenever your parents ask about Osamu, and whenever you see couples wearing matching outfits at the mall – a feeling a little less than longing, and a little more than guilt. Like you ought to be doing more, saying more, expressing more. Feeling more.

You wonder what it is like to be Arata, infatuated, proudly flaunting the colors on his hands.

The girl sitting at the desk finally speaks up.

“I thought we were talkin’ about volleyball, not yer love life, Arata.”

Your gaze moves away from Arata’s wrists and onto the girl.

Still sitting, she and the captain paint a picture of a mouse and an elephant, her tiny form complemented by large, expressionless eyes and a small nose. The maroon jacket hanging off her shoulders looks one size too big.

And yet, when her gaze flicks over and meets yours, you’re overtaken by a sudden chill.

Scary.

Arata jumps and glances down at her. “O-Oh, right! Sorry, Kobayashi-chan, I guess I got carried away.”

“It’s fine.” Kobayashi continues to stare at you, and you start to feel slightly uncomfortable. “’S why I’m here.”

“Yeah!” Coughing, Arata rubs the back of his neck and turns his attention back to the twins. “Gettin’ back on track … if it isn’t obvious already, Kobayashi-chan is our manager. She’s real good. Real detailed.”

“But I’m also in my third year, which means we’re currently lookin’ for a new manager for next year,” Kobayashi supplies. “So if ya happen to know any first-years who’re qualified and willing to apply for the right reasons, please let me know.”

Your brow furrows at that.

“Whaddaya mean, ‘the right reasons’?” Osamu asks.

A sheepish laugh escapes Arata’s throat. “Well … the volleyball team’s pretty popular, so we get a lot of folks wantin’ to be manager just to get closer to the team and see if one of the members is their soulmate.” He sighs. “It’s not that I wanna keep any soulmates apart, but those kinds of applicants slow down the search, and obviously, we want a manager who actually wants to manage.”

Ah. Already, some of your peers already seem like they’re on a time crunch to find their person. Soulmates are getting to be a bigger and bigger deal as you get older, and with that comes certain expectations. It’s not hard to figure out why some would hope to have someone popular and athletic.

“Sorry, don’t know anybody like that,” Atsumu replies at the same time Ojiro says your name.

You look at your senior, surprised.

He directs a finger upwards. “Ya know volleyball pretty well,” he points out. “Wanna apply? You already manage the twins, after all.”

“Oi, what’s that s’posed to mean –”

Arata seems to finally notice you, eyebrows raising. “Oh! Sorry, didn’t see ya there,” he exclaims. “What’s yer name?”

Reluctantly, you step up next to Osamu and introduce yourself.

“[L/n]-chan. So ya know the twins?”

“I’ve lived on the same street as them since elementary school.”

“Really! Ya must know them well, then.”

“More than well,” says Kobayashi.

She points down at your hand. Arata follows her finger, and you resist the urge to curl your pinkie when his mouth drops.

“Oh, damn, you’re soulmates with – er, uh –”

Osamu and Atsumu just stand there, watching the captain flounder. After a few seconds, you reach up and tug Osamu’s earlobe sharply.

“Osamu,” you say, both as an answer and as a scolding, ignoring the muttered ‘ow’ coming from your right.

Clapping his hands, Arata nods. “You’re soulmates with Osamu-kun! Wow, that’s amazing. And you’ve been together since elementary school? He’d think and play better with you just bein’ there.”

You smile, embarrassed.

“That doesn’t make her the right candidate, Arata,” says Kobayashi. “Even if she really wants to manage the team, she might still prioritize Osamu-kun over everybody else. The last thing I want is a manager who picks favorites.”

She says it so bluntly, so seriously. Your smile weakens as her words hit a sore spot you didn’t know you even had.

There must be a good way to disagree. The two truths of the matter are that being a good manager would mean risking being a bad soulmate, and that being a good manager is a risk you can afford. Osamu isn’t the type of person who needs to be worried about. He gets scraped up, but he doesn’t mind it, and he knows his limits. If a player got hurt right as Osamu called you for something, you know you’d check on the other player first. Even if the other player was Atsumu. (Maybe.)

Osamu simply does not need you to take care of him. You don’t know how to express this without seeming like you don’t care as much as you should.

Atsumu cuts in before you can organize your thoughts into words.

“She wouldn’t,” he says, “unless it’s me. But ’Samu and I are soulmates, so we’re already at our best when we’re on the court.”

The upperclassmen before you tilt their heads simultaneously.

“… Wait,” Arata says after a while, slowly. “You’re tellin’ me that Osamu-kun has two soulmates?”

Osamu glances at you, eyes half-lidded, and you can only meet his eyes for a few seconds before you have to look at the ground.

“Guess I’m favored,” Osamu replies.

“Wow.” Huffing out a laugh, Arata crosses his arms. “Two soulmates … huh. I wonder how that works …” Kobayashi grunts and he clears his throat. “S-Sorry. Anyway, [L/n]-chan, if you’re interested in the manager position, just fill this out and give it to Kobayashi-chan. We’re taking applications until July first or until we find someone, whichever comes first.”

He hands you a sheet of paper, and you take it tentatively.

“My phone number’s at the top in case you have any questions,” Kobayashi adds. Her voice lowers, but its monotony remains. “And if ya end up applying, know that I won’t show any favoritism just because of yer soulmate.”

You take in a breath through your nose, fingers curling into the application in your hands. “Yeah, of course.”

She nods once, then leans back in her seat. The set of her mouth relaxes just slightly, and she crosses her arms, morphing from a cutthroat manager to a tired senpai.

“See ya after school. Good luck,” she says. Her eyes bore into yours. “To all of ya.”

There’s a moment of silent surprise between you, Osamu, and Atsumu. Then all three of you bow as Ojiro and Arata chuckle.

“Thank you!”

—

The twins, predictably, become one of three first-year regulars on Inarizaki’s boys’ volleyball team. You place your manager application in the top drawer of your desk, which you pull out frequently over the next three weeks just to stare at the blank form, unsure about the whole thing.

Saturday afternoon rolls around, and you’ve taken the paper out of your binder and set it on top of your desk at home when your phone buzzes.

Osamu: you home

You: yeah

Osamu: ok

And that’s it. You stare at your screen for a few seconds, unblinking, before you shoot up from your seat and scramble to your dresser to get changed.

Five minutes and a bit of haphazard cleaning later, there’s a few firm knocks on the front door, followed by incessant banging. You stalk over to open the door before it’s knocked off its hinges.

“I could hear you,” you tell Atsumu, unimpressed, as the two enter and shuck off their shoes.

“I know.”

He deftly dodges the kick you aim at his ankle. This usually happens nowadays, unfortunately, but it doesn’t stop you from trying.

“’S just you here?” Osamu asks, shuffling into some slippers and walking further into the house. His gym bag hangs from his shoulder, big and bulky, and you look at it curiously.

“… Yeah?”

“Fer someone left home alone all the time, you’re duller than a rock,” Atsumu says. “Folks’re gone and ya don’t even throw a party? Geez.”

You narrow your eyes as he grins. “Maybe I just want peace and quiet after havin’ to sit in class with you all week, Atsumu. Anyways, why are you guys here?”

You receive no answer. After eyeing the kitchen, Osamu turns and heads down the hallway, prompting you to follow. You’re further confused when he enters the bathroom and sets his bag on the countertop.

As he unzips it, Atsumu squeezes past you and reaches into the bag, pulling out a –

A shower cap.

“… Is the shower at yer place broken or something?”

“No,” Osamu says, and he pulls something else out. “Ma’s home.”

You stare at the box in his hands. Then you look back up at the twins.

“She’s gonna kill you.”

—

Watching Osamu and Atsumu bleach each other’s hair is like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

Their dark T-shirts have speckles of orange on them, there are bits of foil littering the sink and the bathroom floor, and the acrid stench of bleach filling the bathroom is starting to creep down the hallway. You can only hope it doesn’t linger past Sunday night when you go back to the dorms.

“If you screw this up, I’m shaving yer giant head in yer sleep.”

“I’m doin’ it better than you did, ya scrub!”

You stand outside, shirt collar pulled up and over your nose, as Atsumu finishes combing through the top part of Osamu’s hair. It’s an incredible thing to witness: Osamu sitting on the shower seat, hunched over and holding a sheet of foil over his undercut while Atsumu hangs over him, wearing one of the shower caps to keep his own hair out of the way. It’s also a disaster.

You lift your phone up to snap a quick picture.

“Oi! What’re ya doin’?”

“Making a present for Ojiro.” Upon viewing the photographic evidence, you realize something. “You’re not gonna tell Auntie that you dyed yer hair at my house, right?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Osamu assures, letting Atsumu hold onto the foil while he pulls on a shower cap. He sets a timer, and the two of them hurry out of the bathroom to escape the fumes. “She won’t be thinkin’ about the details when she finds out.”

“Like she’d ever blame ya, anyway.” Atsumu scoffs. “You’re the favorite and you ain’t even her kid.”

“Well, I don’t wanna take my chances.” You recall the countless number of times the twins had received a whooping for something stupid they did, and the countless number of times you had just barely managed to slip under the radar by keeping your mouth shut. “Y’know, she might make ya dye it black again if the school doesn’t like it.”

“Please. If anything, they’ll thank us fer givin’ them an easy way to tell us apart.”

“Is that why you’re dyein’ yer hair? You’re already in different classes.”

“It ain’t fer class,” Osamu says. “It’s fer volleyball.”

Atsumu presses his back against the wall and slides down to the floor, pulling up a game on his phone. “Some of the scrubs still can’t tell us apart on court,” he sniffs. “’M tired of it.”

That, you think, makes a lot more sense.

Osamu and Atsumu have always taken full advantage of being identical twins. You’ve seen them pull just about every stunt in the book – switching the way they part their hair on random days, pretending to be the other when one of them gets in trouble, making money off classmates who bet on knowing who’s who (and lying on more than one occasion). Looking alike isn’t usually a point of contention between them.

When it does bother them, volleyball is usually involved. They don’t always wear different shirts or numbered jerseys at practice, and you’ve been to enough of them to know that this can cause issues at the beginning of the year. The coach calls out the wrong name, a teammate calls for Osamu when they mean Atsumu, things like that.

They get especially miffed when one gets praised for something the other did. Atsumu, in particular, hates that the most.

“Ya have anythin’ to eat?”

Head snapping up, you look at Osamu and nod halfway through absorbing what he’s just asked. “There’s leftover onigiri in the fridge and snacks in the cupboard,” you reply, stepping over Atsumu’s outstretched legs to lead his brother towards the kitchen.

(“Heat up an onigiri fer me,” Atsumu calls out.)

(“Get it yerself, lazy-ass,” Osamu shoots back.)

In the kitchen, you fish out the last two onigiri the twins’ mom had given you yesterday and present them to Osamu.

“Here. You and Atsumu can each have one.”

“These the ones with salted salmon?”

You nod.

Osamu thinks for a moment. His lips purse, his eyelids droop, and even though he kind of looks like a lunch lady with that shower cap on, it’s cute.

“I’ll make ochazuke and yaki onigiri,” he decides. “What do ya want?”

“I’ll just have some chips or something. I just ate lunch, so I’m not that hungry.”

He stares at you, then accepts the onigiri from your hands. “Okay.”

Putting the rice balls on the counter next to the stove, Osamu retrieves a small plate, a bowl, and a mug from the cupboard. He finds most of everything else pretty quickly – the cast iron skillet under the oven, the spatula in the drawer right next to the fridge, and the soy sauce and oil in the lower corner cabinet. The only thing he asks for you to locate is the green tea, which you get from the depths of the second shelf in the pantry.

While he works, you grab a bag of your favorite chips and pop it open, leaning against the unused counter on the other side of the stove to watch.

You like it whenever Osamu cooks. The click of the stovetop turning on, the curve of oil being poured into the skillet, and you’re rocking gently in a small boat, curled up in an overstuffed chair on a rainy day.

(It’s an extension of how he feels, you’ve learned – for as much as Miya Osamu loves volleyball, he loves food just a teeny bit more.)

When the oil is hot enough, he unwraps one of the onigiri and places it in.

You turn the opening of your chip bag towards him as he wipes his hands on a towel. “Here,” you offer once he notices.

“Thanks.”

Atsumu’s onigiri sizzles in the skillet while the water for Osamu’s tea continues to heat up. Osamu mirrors your posture on his side of the stove, messily crunching down on several chips, and the two of you wait.

“Didja apply for the manager position yet?”

You swallow too early, rough shards of chips cutting down your throat. Fighting the urge to cough, you shake your head and reach for the water you’d left on the table this morning. “No. Still thinkin’ about it.” He hums. “You guys haven’t found one yet?”

“Kobayashi-senpai’s real picky.” He flips the onigiri over with one sharp push of the spatula, brushing soy sauce over the freshly grilled side. The water boiler beeps right after, and he seamlessly transitions over to pour the hot water over the teabag in his mug. “Most of the applicants we saw were annoyin’, anyway.”

“Oh.”

You recall the last practice you’d attended, watching from the balcony with your homework as the team ran laps around the court. The applicant on trial that day had watched them go by a few times, still and proper, before suddenly turning to Kobayashi and excusing themselves from the gym. They never came back.

On the walk back to the dorms that evening, Atsumu explained that the student had a counter for how many times their soulmate would pass by them.

(“Waste of time n’ space,” he’d complained. “Who’d wanna be with someone that desperate?”)

“Ya wouldn’t be half bad at it.”

“… Yeah …”

“If ya don’t wanna apply, just say so.”

“It’s not that. I just don’t know if I’ll wanna do it for the next three years.”

“Whaddaya want to do, then?”

“I dunno.” With a sigh, you set your bag of chips down. “I mean, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to apply.”

Osamu shrugs. “If ya are,” he says, turning off the stove top, “don’t do it just ’cause of me.”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, sharp and knowing as he flips the yaki onigiri onto the plate he’d pulled out earlier.

After calling Atsumu, who had migrated to the living room couch while he had been waiting, the twins scarf down their afternoon snack in no time at all and raid your cupboard for the complimentary snacks your parents usually bring back from their trips.

Halfway into his fourth wafer, Atsumu’s timer goes off.

“Oh, shit.” Shoving the rest of the wafer into his mouth and silencing the alarm, Atsumu gets up and eagerly makes a beeline to the bathroom.

“… Do ya think it worked?” you mutter as you and Osamu stand up more slowly.

“I dunno.”

A loud swear explodes from the bathroom.

You look at each other sharply. Wiping the crumbs from your lips, the two of you run over to investigate.

As you get closer, you hear the sink running, then Atsumu muttering underneath his breath.

When you peek into the bathroom, your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline.

Holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Osamu says, leaning past you to get a better look. “’Tsumu, ya look like a carrot.”

“Shaddup, ’Samu,” Atsumu moans, rinsing his hair angrily. “I know. Fuck.”

Hair bleach on dark hair, as you find out, works similarly to hair bleach on dark fabric. Contrary to the sandy blond the older twin had desired, the result he had gotten is instead a bright, burnt yellow-orange matching the stains on his T-shirt. Not carrot, necessarily, but definitely not blond.

“Ugh.” Nose and forehead wrinkling, Atsumu leans toward the mirror, pinching a section of hair between his fingers. “It … it ain’t that bad, right?” His pitch rises with the slightest hint of denial. “I’m pullin’ it off.”

“It’s that bad,” Osamu says.

“’Samu!”

“Maybe you can bleach it again?” you suggest.

“And then his hair falls out? Bad idea.”

“Dye it, then, like you are.”

“We don’t have money left to buy a different color.” With a sigh, Osamu puts his hands on his hips. “Damn. Sorry, ’Tsumu.”

Atsumu groans and thunks his forehead against the mirror, dripping water all the way down its surface onto the counter. His frustration is so palpable that you can feel it prickling your skin.

If he hadn’t been so excited before, you’d probably poke fun. You should poke fun, but the disappointed twist of his lips and the droopiness of his sopping wet hair just makes you feel bad. He looks like a wet puppy.

Dammit.

You take your phone out.

Osamu tracks the movement. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Lookin’ something up.” You press on the first link you see, skim the webpage quickly, and put your phone back into your pocket. “I’m headin’ out fer a bit. Stay here.”

“… ’Kay.”

“Whatever,” Atsumu grumbles.

After grabbing your wallet and checking its contents, you head outside to drag your bike out from underneath the vacant carport. And as you hop onto the seat, pedaling down towards the nearest drugstore, you tell yourself that Atsumu better thank you on his hands and knees once you get back.

—

“Blue shampoo?” Atsumu’s tone is suspicious as he slathers the back of Osamu’s hair in grey dye.

“It’s supposed to cancel out the orange.” Turning the bottle to face you, you read the description beneath the brand name. “‘Eliminates brassy, orange undertones.’ See?”

“It ain’t gonna fuck up my hair even more?”

“’Course not,” you retort, all hopes of veneration quickly fading away. “I ain’t an asshole, Atsumu.”

His eyebrow twitches, hands slowing. You take the opportunity to place the bottle sideways in the crook of his neck, forcing him to tilt his head to hold it in place.

“Oi –”

“Go try it. I’ll finish Osamu’s hair.”

“Yer so bossy,” Atsumu grumbles, but he lets you nudge him out the way, peeling his gloves off and grabbing the shampoo.

You snap some gloves on in turn, keeping one eye on Osamu’s hair and the other on Atsumu as he ducks his head beneath the sink faucet. They’d pretty much finished up applying the dye for Osamu, at least from what you can tell, so you start combing through the locks with your fingers to make sure everything is covered.

Miya hair is very thick. Soft, too. You hope all this bleaching and dyeing won’t ruin it too much.

“Hm,” Osamu hums abruptly.

You stop. “What?”

“Nothin’.” You furrow your brow but resume, only to just barely hear him mumble, “… Feels nice.”

Oh.

A smile crawls onto your lips without warning, the space behind your ribcage suddenly cozy and soft.

“Alright, I’m doin’ it,” Atsumu announces. You look up just in time to see him squeeze a dollop of shampoo into his hand. “Euch! It’s so blue!”

“Why do ya sound so surprised?!”

“Shaddup, I just wasn’t expectin’ it to be so dark! … Smells okay, though …”

While the shampoo does its work on Atsumu’s hair, you take a little extra time combing Osamu’s. He remains quiet and still, thumbs tapping idly on the dark screen on his phone. You wait for him to make more snide remarks at Atsumu’s expense or complain about the smell of the dye, but he doesn’t.

You eventually finish up while the water still runs blue and sudsy into the bowl of the sink. Osamu mutters a thank you and ambles off after eyeing his brother for a few seconds. You linger for a while longer.

(God, you hope it works. If not for Atsumu’s sake, then for your pride and your wallet.)

After what seems like forever, he rinses out the last of the shampoo, wrings his hair out a bit, and straightens up to look in the mirror.

You examine his reflection as well. It’s less orange, yes, but still not as light as he had wanted, more gold than sand. Not necessarily good, but certainly less bad.

Atsumu fixates on the more muted shade of his hair for a minute or two. His lips press downwards at the corners, and then they part to say your name.

You blink.

“What?”

“Why’d ya buy the shampoo?”

He sounds almost accusatory, but not quite; there’s an undertone that you very, very rarely hear in his voice. He meets your eyes in the mirror, hair a dripping, tangled mess.

“… ’Cause I felt bad fer ya,” you admit unwillingly. Atsumu makes a face, and you sharpen your tongue, because that is what feels comfortable with him. Normal. “And I didn’t want to hear ya mopin’ and complainin’ about it all week.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he persists. “I coulda pulled it off.”

You scoff. “Just ’cause you’re taller than most of the school doesn’t mean they wouldn’t’a noticed. And anyways, it’s better now, ain’t it?”

“I didn’t ask ya to buy it.”

“Ya didn’t even know what it was until I told you.”

“An’ if I did, I still wouldn’t’ve asked!”

“Yeah, ’cause yer prideful ass would rather die than ask fer help!” you snap, jabbing his bicep with your finger. “God! I knew ya wouldn’t even say thank you!”

“Well, if ya knew I was gonna be a dick about it, why’d ya waste yer money?!”

“I felt bad fer ya!” you screech. “My mistake!”

“Yeah, yer mistake!” Atsumu shouts back.

Chest heaving for breath, you glare at him. He glares in return. Temper pinks his face and the tips of his ears, flares his nostrils and curls his lip in that fierce and familiar way. In the back of your mind, you know you are doing the same.

Asshole.

You’re angry, yes. And offended, and exasperated, and and and –

And hurt.

“It’s so hard,” you say, your voice deciding to crack at the worst time possible, “to be nice to you sometimes, Atsumu.”

When the words leave your throat, his face grows blank in that way you’ve always hated, his mouth pressing into a fine line.

“So?” he replies.

You roll your eyes. “Forget it.”

Casting one last glance at the bottle of shampoo next to the sink, you clench your fists and turn to leave. What a waste of money. This is the last time you’re ever going to feel bad for him.

A hand wraps around your elbow upon your first step outside the bathroom.

“… Are ya cryin’?”

“No,” you bite, wishing he hadn’t asked because now you do feel like crying, just a little bit.

Atsumu pauses for an excruciating moment. You can practically feel his distaste for whatever words he’s about to say.

“I’ll pay ya back,” he mutters. “Fer the shampoo.”

“No.”

“Whaddaya mean, no?”

“I don’t want yer money.”

“Well, what do ya want, ’cause I ain’t owin’ ya anything.”

“I want a thank you.”

“… Can’t I just –”

“No.”

Atsumu throws his hands up. “Fine!” he says. “Thanks fer buyin’ somethin’ I didn’t ask fer! There, ya happy now?”

“I want ya to mean it,” you say quietly.

“I did mean it.”

You cross your arms.

He groans. Glancing around as if checking for hidden cameras, Atsumu slowly pushes his bangs away from his face and wipes his nose, sniffing.

“… Fine,” he eventually grumbles at the floor tiles. Cheeks puffed, he looks up at you from the corner of his eye and scratches the back of his head. “The shampoo fixed it a little bit,” the words struggle their way out of his mouth, “so … thanks … fer gettin’ it fer me. Ya didn’t have to.”

He looks like he’s just eaten soap, his ears still red, and that’s how you know he’s being sincere. Your shoulders relax a little bit.

“You’re welcome,” you say.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Atsumu’s expression, almost doleful for just that moment, blooms into something more sarcastic once you accept his gratitude. He gestures at the doorway behind you. “Can I go now?”

“Dry the mirror and the counter first.”

“But I said thank you.”

You throw a towel at his face and walk away, more satisfied than not.

—

“How’s Osamu-kun doing?”

You prop your phone up against the wall behind your desk, tilting your pen between your fingers. “He’s fine, Ma.”

“Did ya tell him how good his curry is? He makes it better than me.”

“Yeah, he says he’s glad you guys like it.”

After resolving the blue shampoo issue with Atsumu on Saturday, you’d gone back to the kitchen and found Osamu chopping vegetables and tofu next to the sink. At first, you figured he was hungry again, but upon your questioning, he’d only denied it.

(“’S fer you.”

“… Fer me? No, you don’t have to –”

“Yeah, I know. Ya don’t like the curry at the cafeteria, so bring mine back to the dorm and save it in the fridge fer later. If ya don’t want it, leave it fer yer folks to eat when they get back.”)

He didn’t leave much room for debate. And since he was using your family’s food to make it anyway, you accepted, a bit perplexed but happy nonetheless. You hadn’t expected him to remember your complaint about the cafeteria’s bland curry.

The amount he made was enough to fill two Tupperware containers, one of which you left for your parents when they returned two days later. Needless to say, they were delighted.

“What a thoughtful boy. He’s so good to you, honey.”

You smile, walking back to your desk. “Yeah.”

(“Ya like dark chocolate in it, right?”)

Your mom sighs. It’s a familiar sigh, and you click your pen, knowing what she is about to say before she even takes a breath.

“I just don’t know why he hasn’t asked ya out yet.”

You can hear your dad speak up between chews in the background. “It ain’t like how it was back when we were young, dear. Soulmates these days don’t like makin’ things so formal and official.”

“Oh, I know, but wouldn’t it be sweet? I was so happy when we went on our first official date.”

“The one at the konbini ’cause I couldn’t afford anythin’ nicer?”

“Yes. I loved it.”

“I know. You were smilin’ the whole time.”

“Glad you’re still in love,” you say dryly when they giggle over the phone, your nose wrinkling when your dad comes into view to give your mom a loud smooch. During these moments, you wish you’d called instead. “I’m still here.”

“Oh, I know, I know. Honey, you should bring Osamu-kun somethin’ fer his next game! A snack fer afterwards. He’ll like that.”

“Okay.” You’ve done that before. The first time you gave him an orange in your first year of junior high, he and Atsumu squabbled over dividing it for five minutes. Now you get double portions whenever you have the compulsion to bring something after games, just to keep the peace.

“Speaking of games …”

Here we go.

“… Have ya applied to be the manager for the volleyball team yet?”

“Um.” Glancing at the wall to your right, you click your pen some more, taking your time to answer. “I filled the form out …”

“[Y/n]! If ya dawdle, someone else’ll snatch it up. When’s it due?”

“July first or until they find someone.”

“Turn it in tomorrow!”

“Okay, okay.”

Your mom sighs again, and she places a bowl down onto the table. “… Otherwise, are ya okay? I’m sorry we missed ya at home.”

“It’s fine. I hung out with Kokomi and the twins. How was yer anniversary?”

“We’ll make sure we’re home next time you’re on weekend leave. And it was lovely! Oh, honey, ya should’ve seen the fish yer pa caught …”

You talk with your parents until they finish their dinner, hanging up once they’ve started cleaning up. As soon as the video cuts out, you release a breath and turn your phone face-down.

You don’t know why you’re so nervous about applying for the manager position. It’s the natural thing to do, because it’s natural to want to be involved with something Osamu is interested in, his own opinion on the matter notwithstanding. You think you might like being a manager. It’s not like you want to do something else more.

Getting rejected by Kobayashi would be horrible, though.

Maybe you’ll wait a little longer to turn your application in. Polish it up some more, and such.

—

After volleyball practice ends, and after everyone who had lingered behind to practice some more is ready to call it a night, Atsumu tells you and Osamu that he’s staying a little longer to practice his jump float serves.

“Are ya sure? Cafeteria’s servin’ all-you-can-eat pasta for dinner.”

“I’ll be done before it closes.”

Osamu doesn’t look convinced. To be fair, neither are you; Atsumu often loses track of time when he stays behind, resulting in an extra hungry, extra irritable Atsumu.

“Atsumu,” you say.

He huffs at you. “Seriously, I will!” he insists, before turning to walk back to the end line. You, Osamu, Ginjima, Akagi, and Ojiro all look on helplessly as he throws a volleyball into the air and gives himself a running start.

“Don’t worry,” Kobayashi says, grabbing your attention just as he jumps. She holds up the key to the gymnasium. “I’ll kick him out before he misses dinner.”

Ojiro, ever the responsible one, lets out a noise of protest. “Senpai, I can lock up. You should go.”

“No, it’s fine.” Though her tone is impassive, she makes it clear that her mind is set as she waves him off. “I’m goin’ out to eat with my boyfriend later, anyway.”

You blink.

Though Ojiro is visibly reluctant, he acquiesces. “… Okay. Thank you, Kobayashi-senpai.”

“Mmhm,” Kobayashi hums, and her gaze falls upon you. “Make sure they get to the cafeteria in one piece, [L/n]-chan.”

“I will, senpai.”

You wait outside while the guys change out of their gym clothes and gather their things. Once they exit the building, you join them, listening idly to their chatter about today’s practice as the five of you trek towards the cafeteria.

“Hey, Ojiro-senpai, Akagi-senpai,” Ginjima speaks up during a lull in the conversation. “What Kobayashi-senpai said earlier …”

Attention piqued, you look at your upperclassmen for their reactions to Ginjima’s question. Next to you, Osamu does little to hide his curiosity as well.

Ojiro and Akagi, in turn, share a glance, and Ojiro raises an eyebrow at Ginjima.

“Yeah?” Ojiro replies.

“Well, y’know …” Ginjima presses expectantly, “when she said that she has a boyfriend, did she mean …?”

“That’s somethin’ you can ask Kobayashi-senpai about, ain’t it?”

You imagine doing just that and cringe.

Ginjima’s eyes widen, and he clears his throat. “Well –!” he replies, a bit too loudly. “I would, but I don’t want her to think I’m bein’ judgmental or somethin’. Plus, I’m just a first-year …”

“Aw, I think it’s fine if they know, Aran. It ain’t like she’s hidin’ it or anythin’,” Akagi says. Ojiro looks up for a moment in thought, then shrugs tentatively, and Akagi smiles at you and the two boys. “Kobayashi-senpai’s not datin’ her soulmate. They’re pretty serious, too.”

Ojiro rests his hands behind his head. “He’s a nice guy. Comes to games sometimes.”

“Oh, I see …”

You nod slowly, absorbing this new piece of information. Kobayashi has a boyfriend. A boyfriend that she goes on dates with, one she really likes. You wonder how long they’ve been together.

You wonder if Kobayashi’s met her soulmate yet.

“E-Excuse me! Hello!”

The quick patter of footsteps interrupts your train of thought. Glancing behind you, you stop short when you see one of your classmates running up to your group, waving one hand and holding a camera in the other. The golden orange of the sky burnishes her red hair.

“Naruko-san,” you and Ginjima greet at the same time. Ginjima laughs.

“Sorry to bother ya!” Naruko bows and quickly straightens, holding her camera up and smiling nervously. “I-I was just takin’ some pictures for photography club, and I was wonderin’ if you guys would mind me takin’ a picture?”

“How long’s it gonna take?” Osamu asks.

“Not too long. Five minutes? U-Unless y’all are in a hurry to get somewhere …”

“Not too much of a hurry. Just wanna make it to dinner.” Ojiro smiles, patting Osamu and Akagi’s backs. “Where do ya want us?”

Naruko brightens, her cheeks going red. “J-Just keep walkin’! The lighting’s perfect right now, and I wanna take a picture of yer backs with yer volleyball jackets on.” She glances at you, and her expression grows more nervous. “Er …”

You lock eyes with her for a few seconds before catching on. Nodding, you take a step towards Naruko to join her.

Osamu’s hand grasps your shoulder.

His hold is loose, but you bite back the urge to slump over at the sudden warmth of it, pausing instead to look back at him.

“Where’re ya goin’?”

You answer tentatively. “I don’t have a team jacket.”

“That’s fine. You’re walkin’ with us too.”

“Yeah, but …” You wet your lips. “Like, visually, it’ll look weird if one person doesn’t have one on …”

The corner of Osamu’s mouth twitches, and he frowns. You watch as his gaze moves past your shoulder. A sudden, brief twinge of irritation, not belonging to you, zings through your ribcage.

“Why’s that matter?”

“Yeah. C’mon, it’ll be fine,” Ojiro says.

“It’s okay!” Naruko suddenly blurts, and you jolt slightly, looking back at her. She bounces on her feet, voice even higher pitched. “I can do a more candid shot, now that I think about it! A-Actually, Miya-san, could ya give [L/n]-san yer jacket? And Ginjima-san, you can keep yers around yer waist …”

Her sudden change in idea perplexes you a bit. But Osamu seems to be satisfied, and he shrugs his jacket off, placing it over your shoulders.

After a bit of hesitation, you slide your arms through the sleeves.

(It’s just as warm.)

“Ooh, [L/n]-chan’s wearin’ Osamu’s jacket,” Ginjima teases behind his hand, and your face heats up.

“Okay.” Behind you, Naruko lets out a wistful-sounding sigh. “I’m ready. Y’all can start walkin’ now, just like ya were before.”

With only a bit of self-consciousness, the five of you follow her instructions. There are only a few clicks of the camera before Naruko calls out her thanks and goes off without another word, leaving you and the boys to speculate whether you’ll ever see the results.

“How cute,” Akagi comments. “She looked like she was gonna throw up, though.”

“I hope those were conflicting statements.”

“Okay, Aran, I wasn’t implying …”

While the two upperclassmen start to banter, you move to take Osamu’s jacket off, only for him to stop you.

“’S fine,” he says. “You can wear it if ya want.”

“Oh. Okay.”

And so you do.

—

The boys’ first practice game in July is brutal.

Many of your peers have come to watch. It’s a favorite after-school pastime of Inarizaki’s student populace, you’ve quickly discovered, to hop from one athletic club to the other simply to spectate and speculate. People pack the balcony and peek around the doorway, catching the scent of blood and sweat.

Between the crowd’s cheering and jeering, the squeak of sneakers on the gym floor, and the sound of palms ramming into volleyballs, the atmosphere is sharp, almost electric – something that you feel tingling on your skin as you stand on the sidelines, Kobayashi right by your side.

Atsumu delivers another devastating service ace. It ricochets off the corner of the other side of the court with a thunderous boom.

“Did you catch that, [L/n]-chan?” Kobayashi asks, arms crossed. “That was one of his better ones.”

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t.”

“Hm.”

You watch the slow, satisfied stretch of Atsumu’s smile, and wait patiently. “It’s okay. He ain’t done yet.”

Indeed, Atsumu is just getting started. You spare an amused glance at Osamu in front of the net, his hands locked protectively behind his head, before turning back to Atsumu as the volleyball is thrown back to him.

Raising your camera, you adjust the focus, finger ready on the shutter button.

Toss. Run. Jump.

Click.

On your other side, a girl pumps her fists and cheers.

“Wow! Another one!” she gushes.

You smile behind your lens. “Ya always sound so impressed, Tsubaki-chan.”

“I’m just excited! We’re crushin’ them in the last set!”

“’Course we are,” says Kobayashi. “Our offense is that much better. I’m a little disappointed.”

As your upperclassman patiently points out each player’s strengths and weaknesses, you keep an eye on the team and crouch low. You’ve got plenty of photos now that the game’s nearing its end – lots of sets, a few spikes and digs, some flashy jump serves. Hopefully, some of them have turned out halfway decent. Even though you’d widened the aperture to make up for the gym’s crappy lighting and adjusted the shutter speed for blurring, you still worry about your timing.

By the time Inarizaki scores the winning point, you’ve moved to the opposite end of the court and have to race back to capture their reactions.

One thing you like about the volleyball team is how expressive they are. Joy, passion, pride – off the high of a victory, they bare everything, whether it’s through their expressions or the way they move or both.

Tsubaki says your name excitedly as soon as the teams have finished thanking each other, tugging on your arm. “Can I see the action shots, [Y/n]-chan?” she requests.

“Ah, sure.”

You turn the camera towards her, and she leans in as you scroll through the photos, her grin widening.

“Wow! Yer timin’s amazin’. They look so cool!”

The praise brings summer to your cheeks. “Thanks,” you reply genuinely. After a moment of hesitation, you lift the camera again. “Smile, Manager-san?”

Tsubaki doesn’t hesitate to broaden her already present grin, throwing up a peace sign for good measure. Kobayashi looks your way as well, and you take one shot, knowing it will be kept.

“Cute!” Tsubaki exclaims.

Two shadows loom over your shoulders as the girl bestows you with another compliment. When you turn your head to the right, your nose nearly brushes Osamu’s cheek.

“Ya got any good shots of us, [Y/n]?” Atsumu asks expectantly.

“Yes, actually, I did,” you reply, going back through the camera roll with a particular image in mind. You’re only vaguely aware of the warmth they exude as they budge into your personal space, the smell of sweat lingering on their skin. “Here.”

You’re particularly proud of this one. It had been a split second of pure luck, standing on the sidelines when a window of opportunity opened for a fast-tempo set. You had felt it – you knew Atsumu would set to Osamu, and as Osamu jumped, arm reared back as Atsumu sent the ball to him, you had captured it.

Somehow, you always get the timing right with them.

“Cool,” the twins approve proudly.

“Email that one to us, will ya?” Atsumu says. “I ain’t lettin’ you photography nerds hoard it away.”

“She’s sendin’ all these to Arata-senpai, ya dolt.”

“Hey, I wanna see!” Gintama breaks into your little group, trying to sneak a peek in. “Did ya get one of my spikes?”

“Yeah, how about my jump serve?”

“That super cool block me and Ren did in the second set!”

“Didja get one of Coach?”

One by one, the team gathers around you, eager for a glimpse of their successes. The crowding is uncomfortable, but you try your best to show them what you can anyway, feeling a rare sense of pride about your own accomplishments.

You’re happy with your choice.

Tsubaki will be a great manager. Even when you first met her, you knew she had everything she'd need for the job – a passion for the sport, a desire to help others succeed, and an endless amount of perseverance. Inarizaki couldn’t ask for a better person to replace Kobayashi next year. She’ll do well in what she’s decided to do.

And so will you.

—

prev

[l1atena1]

The Night Sky~

The cosmos was not planned lol

[xbalayage]

Silvio hasn't tried his hand at many things because he has servants to do his bidding, but at times when it comes to you, he's willing to budge... a little. There's been this tea you've been wanting for a while and their ingredients are only grown in Jade, and the leaves are never available in Rhodolite but with how many connections your lover has, you thought to mention it. And of course this man has a supply of his own in the royal kitchens, he confirms it himself. However, instead of allowing a servant to make it for you, he decides on his own violation to do so; says it's payment back for all the fricassee you've made for him.

He leaves you to your own devices as he leaves the room, a smile stuck on your lips. You decide to fall back onto the comforter of your shared bed as you stare up at the mirror on the ceiling just above the bed. Don't ask why that's there... it's for innocent reasons, you swear. Not at all for anything... inappropriate. Nope.

You relax as you wait, the cracked door kicks open with his foot as it opens, signaling his return with the Jadean tea in hand crafted by his truly. You sat up excited as he hands you the tea, sitting down beside you afterwards. He wouldn't admit it but out of the corner of your eye as you lift the cup to your lips, he watches intently, awaiting your approval. It had a nice fragrance, sour but sweet to the taste and it wasn't too hot to drink either. It was the perfect opportunity to tease him.

After you swallow, you turn with a look of disgust and tell him it's terrible. He seems offended, says it was supposed to be sweet, he did everything right! Hehe, the reaction is exactly what you wanted. Him being a flustered mess when he tried to genuinely give you something you wanted and messed it up. You couldn't hold the facade up and break into a laugh, he looks at you in utter disbelief that you're laughing at his expense. You had to reassure him that you were just being wicked and that you actually loved it.

He pulls you close to his side after you set the tea aside on the table, explaining to you how it wasn't fair to play dirty like that. You stuck your tongue out at him as he decides to tickle you for once in retaliation for your misdeeds. Laughter fills the air from both of you as lips find themselves connecting to one another in turn, both bodies falling back onto the comforters in bliss. You could never stop loving this man and his hidden gentle heart.

[synintheraven]

Now that the weekend is over I wanted to share these here aaand take this opportunity to thank @sihtricfedaraaahvicius for gifting my bunch of Sihtrics (part 2, lol) to Arnas my beloved and @whitedarkmoonflower for gifting my Finan drawing to Mark BUT also because she was extra nice and gifted a copy of the s4 Sihtric and Sygtryggr drawings I did for her to Arnas and Eysteinn!!! (That last bit was unexpected as I only asked her to give Mark my drawing so naturally I'm over the moon and want to give her a big virtual hug (regardless if she gifted my art in my behalf or hers, I'm still crying) 😭😭🥰) Anyway long story short, you're the nicest guys thank you so much!!!! <3

Additionally, you can find unedited HQ pics of these drawings >here< on my portfolio (recommended to open in Chrome, for whatever reason it doesn't show up from the tumblr app) 💕

[compressednerve]

I know how to be controlled

Do opposite of what you're told

Quick to react, to break the box

Turn on cue, as your cell door locks

Behind you

[8ripecunts]

holden 100% turns up at bills home when nancy and brian are at her moms for the weekend under the guise of ‘im just handing u some files’. holden knows what he wants but bill is all about protecting the peace and boundaries (its his family home afterall!) hijinks ensues (they fuck, cos holden always gets what he wants) and he eats up how he gets to have bill in his marital bed

[s735]

8/15/23

[cupophrogs]

I pull up to ur inbox

We pull out the inbox

[foxybananaaaz]

Now... I know I'm late... but I was honestly hoping they were joking. A mistake on my part, I admit. One I won't make again.

Why does colour not mean shit when characters are flat out saying on page in print that black does not suit 🌸, and using colour theory is a stupid way to 'prove points' ...

But when it's in favour for THEM? "Who.. who said colour theory is stupid? Clearly not me. SJM post pink image. CLEARLY telling us the next book is 🌸's !! I can't wait!! 🌸/🦇 CONFIRMED!!"

Honestly, at this point, I'm waiting for 🌸 to be wearing 🍊 or has a vision of a 🔥 and they find a way to link it back to their ship. "OMG 🌸/🦇 CONFIRMED!!"

Because of course 🍊 and 🔥's are related to 🦇/🌸 right? Totally not 🦊's thing or colour at all.

It will happen. I'm like 93% sure it will. I'm seeing that they're APPARENTLY claiming that 🎶 is an 🦇/🌸 thing, when really it is a 💎/🦇 thing. And remember when they tried to claim the ❤️ beat scene?

Anyway. I don't ship 💎/🦇 ... mainly cause I don't like 🦇. But I stand with you guys. You guys are cool.

I think it goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway, but I ship 🌸/🦊. That's who I ship and will always ship. That's not gonna change.