#tsukki's scribblings

[suckishima]

REN THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING!!!! THIS BELONGS IN A MUSEUM IT'S THE MOST PERFECT THING AND I COULDN'T BE HAPPIERRRR!!! 💕💕💕💖💖💖🌙✨‼️

He lifted his hand to lightly brush the tips of his fingers against the flushed apple of Yamaguchi’s cheek, trembling as he watched Yamaguchi’s face soften and the playful banter fade away and be replaced with something akin to disbelief. Kei dared not to think what his own eyes could be betraying as he amazingly—foolishly—allowed himself to close the distance and press his mouth to Yamaguchi’s.

from 'This Quiet Pride' by InTheWild commission for @suckishima ⭐

[sugarwarachan]

driving you crazy

pairing: tsukishima kei x f!reader

summary: being in the same phd program as tsukishima kei was already the worst, and that was before you and the snarky bastard were tasked to teach the same class together. during a late-night run-in at the library, will things finally come to a head?

(note: reader writes smut on the side to make some extra money, since phd students barely make shit *sobs*)

content warnings: tsukki being a degrading lil shit *barks*, like so much sexual tension, slight exhibitionism (gettin' nasty in a library), slight angst, dry humping

word count: 2.1k (an anon ask turned into this, whoops!)

art credit: @Freaka_LoonyZ on x

You shouldn’t have kissed him.

Not even as a joke in the back of that shitty dive bar you’d taken him to because grading papers was making both of your eyes cross. But he’d looked so fucking handsome underneath the neon lights, sipping coolly at his beer, that you couldn't help dragging him by the collar into that alley and sucking his soul out through his mouth.

Fuck.

Staring down at the battered copy of Macbeth and your scattered pile of notes, you’re no closer to chasing him away from your thoughts than you had been the night before, achy and desperate in your bed.

Ever since you began your PhD program, Tsukishima Kei has been an ever-present pain in your ass. Sarcastic, flippant, and irresistibly intelligent in a way that makes your heart speed up every time you spar with him.

You hate him, perhaps just as much as you want him.

It's cowardly to hope he won't find you here, but you need to get work done, and the library feels like a good spot to avoid him in. He hates being around people, even when they're confined to calm spaces like this.

“You’re not hiding from me, are you?”

Of fucking course.

When you look up, he’s smirking, all self-assured arrogance while he leans against the library stacks. You want to strangle him and straddle him in equal parts.

“Why?" you snort, turning back to your notes. "Because of one kiss? You’re not that good, Tsukishima.”

(He is, though. You’ll be thinking about that kiss until you die.)

Maddeningly, he says nothing, only pulls out a chair and settles in across from you.

You really wish you could read him better, but the best course of action seems to be to shut your mouth and pretend you’re not affected. For a guy as detached as him, you think that’s the right choice.

“Have you eaten anything today?”

The fuck?

Looking up from the notebook you’re scribbling non-notes into, you see what appears to be concern on his face.

“Umm. Yeah.” You’re pretty sure you’re looking at him like lobsters sprouted out of his ears. He's never once asked about your well-being like this.

He nods. “Good. We did stay up late talking about Kantian ethics.”

That's certainly one way to boil down last night.

“And to think it came to blows only once,” you shoot back.

A small smile curves his lips before he takes out a book and some notes, seemingly content to start working on something.

Fine.

If he won’t bring up the kiss, neither will you.

Silence lapses, the only sound the scratching of pens on paper. You’re not sure how much time passes; it’s hard to be around Tsukishima for very long because of how much he seems to slow time for you.

You sneak a look and immediately wish you hadn’t, because you notice the edge of a sheet of folded paper and recognize notes you lost two weeks before.

Your entire body flashes cold.

You write down ideas all the time as they come to you. What can you say, you’ve got an actively flourishing sexual mind, which has helped tremendously in your choice of second income. Smut doesn’t just write itself.

But the last thing you want anyone to see, let alone Tsukishima, is a scene where you couldn’t stop picturing him as one of the participants…

You try not to let your thoughts race away from you. You can only imagine how much he’d tease you for it, how actively humiliating it would be to admit to Tsukishima fucking Kei that your fantasies more than often than not star him.

“You can’t be alright.”

“Excuse me?”

Golden-brown eyes confront you. He’s frowning.

Why the fuck can’t you lust over someone normal?

“You heard me.”

“There’s a book on Shakespeare and gender in the stacks I need to find,” you say, ignoring him and ignoring the fact that you already have that book sitting to your left.

He regards you carefully. Each second that ticks by, you know he’s weighing what to say. The hush of the library does nothing to calm the din in your chest, the awful racket of your heart furiously pounding behind your ribcage.

He smirks and waves a hand at the stacks. “By all means. “

Surrounded by a wall of books, you take a deep breath. It’s just as likely he hadn’t even seen the notes he’d accidentally snagged from you. All you have to do is get them back, right?

“You always deflect when you’re uncomfortable.”

Whirling around, you see Tsukishima leaning against the stacks like a Lothario in a Victorian play, and fuck, you must have it bad, because he actually looks good doing it.

“Might it have something to do with this?” He pulls out that folded-up sheet of paper, and you watch in horror as your notes literally unfold in front of you.

You know exactly what’s written there.

His eyes pin you in place and you feel like a bug wriggling on a cork board, helpless under his gaze.

“This is what’s bothering you.” He shakes the paper a little, like a master shaking a treat in front of a dog. “You didn’t want me to read it.”

Anger sparks in your chest. “Brilliant fucking solve, Sherlock.”

He glosses over the sarcasm and takes a step forward. You retreat one step back.

“Why didn’t you want me to read this?”

You stare at him, incredulous.

“Because it’s private, asshole.”

The look he gives you screams, Try again.

“Jesus fucking Christ, it’s a smut scene, Tsukishima. Do I really have to spell out why that would be awkward for you to read?”

“Why? Because you imagined me while you wrote it?” Condescension drips from his words. Below your navel, your insides pull taut.

“What makes you think that? Because I deigned to kiss you last night?” You’re flirting with fire and you know it. You lean in, and so does he. “Come on, Tsukishima, you’re gonna have to do better than that. Where’s your hard evidence that I think about you like that at all?”

His eyes flash, and a near-feral smile splits his face.

He taps the side of the paper.

“Because you wrote this.”

And there, in small, nearly-smudged writing, are the words: Stop picturing Tsukki.

Blood pools in your cheeks. There’s no way he’s going to let you live this down, not ever.

You finally notice the red ink in the margins, his own annotations littering the page underneath your imaginings.

“Did you make fucking critiques?”

His laugh is so immediate it startles you. “I think you might call them suggestions.”

He’s close now, his hip nudging yours back along the books. Spines dig into your shoulder blades.

“If you’re fucking with me right now—"

One hand settles next to your head.

“One word, y/n,” his breath ghosts over your temple. “One word, and this stops.”

The rational part of your brain considers the consequences of messing around with someone in the same program, let alone someone like Tsukishima.

The rational part of your brain doesn’t answer.

“I don’t want this to stop.”

Exhaling sharply, he takes a step forward, his body now completely aligned with yours. You suppress the small moan climbing up your throat.

You were right, damn it to hell. This already feels better than most things you’ve ever done: your back curved against the books, the musty smell of paper, Tsukishima’s shirt shifting with yours.

One hand possessively cups your jaw.

“In that scene you wrote, were you picturing yourself?”

“Does it matter?”

His eyebrows rise. “Does it matter? How do you ground yourself in the scene if you don’t picture the characters?”

It’s an obvious taunt, but as you stare at the hollow of his throat, all you can think about is the fact that he smells warm and spicy, and you want to lick the column of his neck and wipe that fucking smirk off his dumb, handsome face.

You want him to be as affected by this situation as you are.

“If you tell me why you wrote all over the scene, I’ll tell you.”

He exhales. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“The hardest.”

He presses a knee between your thighs, spreading your legs apart. Without thinking, you grind your core down onto him, brain firing as soon as the pressure on your clit increases.

His hand grips down hard on your hip as he pulls you close, whispering furiously in your ear. "I read over this scene a hundred fucking times and I added what I would do. That’s what those notes are.”

Pleasure spreads over your chest; you barely remember your promise. 

“I pictured myself. In that scene. I pictured you watching another man fuck me until you stepped in and showed him how it’s done.”

Tsukishima makes a noise like a whimper and a groan in his throat. His head falls forward on the stack, right next to yours. “Goddamnit, y/n.”

He presses his thigh more insistently against you, hand near to bruising on your hip. 

“Did that not figure in your notes?” you ask, fisting your hands in his shirt, greedy for him to touch you more.

With strength that makes your pussy clench, he picks you up by the waist and drags your core along his leg. You can feel how wet you are, the slide of your cunt slippery in your underwear.

And we’ve barely done anything, a giddy part of your brain whispers.

“If it was real, no one else would be able to make you cum like I could," he's saying, voice low. "But I bet you’d love to see them try, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? Fuck them in front of me until your sloppy pussy needs me to step in and fuck you like the little whore you are.”

His words travel from your ear down to your clit, and a low ache twists in your gut. You fall forward onto his chest, hands twisting around his shirt collar.

You're already climbing toward release with each slide of your core against his thigh.

“Please, Tsukki.” A whine erupts in your throat. “Please. Fuck, I’m so close.”

He doesn't even entertain your implied suggestion. “You’ll come on my thigh, y/n, I know you can. I can feel how much of a mess you’re making through your jeans. How wet would you be if I pulled those off?”

“Take them off and find out," you pant into his skin.

His hands deftly shuck your jeans down your legs, just enough to expose your underwear. You should feel ridiculous riding a man’s thigh in the back of a library stack with your pants around your knees, but you can’t be damned to care.

Fingertips trace over your pussy, outlining the lips through the cotton of your underwear. He skims a thumb over your clit.

“You’ve ruined these.” He sounds delighted.

“Fucking take them off, Tsukishima, for fuck’s sake.” You’re begging, and you hate it, but at this point, you’d do anything to feel his touch on your bare skin.

“No,” he says softly, tempering the denial with a kiss to your temple. “You’ll finish like this.”

You’re glad your face is pressed against him. This way he can't see how affected you are, how every time he drags you against his thigh, you practically drown in pleasure.

Little gasps and pleas fall from your lips, muffled against his chest. One more drag and you cum violently, your hips chasing after your orgasm with such intensity you feel like you’re floating.

You come down slowly, ears ringing. You're pretty sure you hear Tsukishima talking to you, but the only thing drifting through your mind is that you haven’t cum like that in years, and of course it’s with the man you can’t stop thinking about, for better or for worse.

You look down and take in your soaked underwear, the damp stain on his trousers.

He hands you back the notes and helps you right yourself on shaky legs.

Somehow, this feels more intimate than anything you've done with him so far. His hands are calloused and strong, and you want to hold onto him a little longer.

The thought jolts you, and before you can stop it, the words are out.

"This was a mistake."

And what takes you aback is not that Tsukishima agrees with you, but that he looks almost sad when he does.

masterlist here. reblogs and comments always appreciated <3

[rinjjuei]

timeskip tsukki scribble 👓

[eriace]

like you ; tadashi yamaguchi

oneshot & fluff ↪ in which y/n accidentally confesses a years-long crush on tadashi yamaguchi while helping him study, and realizes maybe—just maybe—the feeling was mutual all along. ↷ yamaguchi tadashi ; haikyuu ( ft. male reader )

↳ an order of caramel macchiato + hot chocolate from anonymous in the comeback cafe event !

THERE WERE STACKS of textbooks between them, highlighters scattered across the table, and the quiet hum of late afternoon seeping in through the open window.

Tadashi was chewing on the tip of his pen, brows furrowed, completely focused on the math problem in front of him.

And y/n?

Y/n was staring. Again.

He didn’t mean to. Really.

It wasn’t his fault that Tadashi looked kind of pretty in the sunlight, or that his hair was always just slightly messy like he’d been running a hand through it out of nervous habit, or that his lips curved up when he was concentrating, like he was smiling at numbers.

It also wasn’t his fault that this crush had been hanging around since they were kids.

He’d met Tadashi through Tsukishima, way back when playgrounds still felt too big and backpacks hung awkwardly off their shoulders.

The day he saw some brat push Tadashi near the bike racks, y/n had stepped in. Tsukishima had followed a few seconds later, grumbling, "this is dumb," but still walking home with both of them after that.

Since then, they were inseparable. A strange triangle of energy: Tsukki’s quiet sarcasm, Y/n’s chaotic warmth, and Tadashi’s bright-hearted everything. Somewhere along the way, the warmth Y/n offered Tadashi grew teeth—little moments that sank into his chest and stayed.

Like when Tadashi started laughing more. Like when he held onto y/n’s sleeve without thinking. Like now.

“You’re staring again,” Tadashi mumbled, not looking up from the worksheet.

Y/n jolted. “I am not.”

“You are. You do that when I’m stuck.”

“I do it when I’m bored.”

“Rude.”

Y/n smirked, but the heat crawling up his neck betrayed him. He leaned forward, chin on his arms, and glanced at the half-solved problem.

“You forgot to distribute here,” he pointed lazily. “You always forget when you're nervous.”

Tadashi flushed, flipping the pencil in his hand. “I'm not nervous.”

“You always are when I sit this close.”

There was a pause.

And then Tadashi’s eyes flicked up, shy and startled all at once. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/n blinked. Wait. What was that supposed to mean?

He meant to tease. Meant to make it playful.

But the air had stilled, caught on something fragile and floating between them.

Y/n sat up slowly, scratching the back of his neck.

“…I guess it means I like sitting this close,” he said. Carefully. Then, with a tiny laugh, added, “But not just for helping with math.”

Tadashi blinked again.

“Y-you mean…”

“I mean… I’ve kind of had a thing for you since middle school. You wore this dumb yellow hoodie with too-long sleeves, and you said I made you feel safe, and I think I’ve been gone ever since.”

Tadashi’s pencil clattered to the table.

Silence.

Then—

“I still have that hoodie.”

Y/n looked up, confused.

Tadashi was pink in the cheeks, but his voice was clear now. “I wear it when I miss you.”

Y/n stared.

Tadashi glanced down, fidgeting. “I… kinda hoped you liked me. I just… didn’t wanna ruin what we had.”

“So you do like me?”

Tadashi nodded, then smiled—soft and warm, like sunrise.

“Yeah. Since you punched that guy in the face for calling me weak.”

Y/n groaned. “That was not my best moment.”

“It kind of was.”

They sat in that strange silence again, but now it was something else. Something comfortable. Sweet.

Y/n grinned, nudging him with his elbow.

“So... can I kiss you? Or do we have to finish the math first?”

Tadashi laughed, cheeks red.

“Let’s finish the math.”

Y/n groaned again.

“Ugh. You’re such a nerd.”

Tadashi smirked, scribbling on his worksheet. “You like me like that.”

And yeah—Y/n really, really did.

© eriace ;; don’t repost my works.

[joelletwo]

[scribbles out pachiguras' faces] like that was so hot of them...... they were everything.......... they had it all right from the start...... i love the way tsukki plays toys

[milkymora]

left ✧ tsukishima kei x fem!reader ✧ pt 6

taglist: @tsukkisbbygirl , @notverymarley , @haechansbbg , @happiness2014

summary: christmas break is around the corner, and your last week of school starts rather funnily.

tw: mention of injuries.

the next day, you awoke unusually early. stretching your limbs and rubbing the sleep from your eyelids, you reached for the phone laying on the wooden drawer next your bed, turning it on an being blinded for a moment by its brightness. you forgot to lower it when you went back to sleep, yesterday night. the screen readed 6:07 AM.

sundays were always boring. you rarely had things to do, and it was the day of the week you’d most likely spend studying, or re reading old classes notes, and doing homeworks. that day, though, you already managed to get a jump on all your paperworks and projects. you had nothing to do.

when you were about to sigh and get back to sleep, you remembered the texts you and tsukishima shared the previous evening. a knot of worry formed into your throat, recalling the anguish feeling reading those awful new got you. without thinking twice, you tapped on the messanger icon and entered your chat with kei.

y/n: hey, sorry to bother, i know it’s early. i just wanted to ask you if you’ve received any new last night? it was still pretty early when we texted, maybe things have taken a turn? hopefully a good one... also, how is yamaguchi feeling?

it’s true that you and tadashi were never really close, however that didn’t stop you from concerning about him. from the few informations you had about his persona, he’s always been a good guy. besides, what happened to him was terrible, to say the mere least. you wanted to help somehow.

to your surprise, your phone buzzed on your hand, right after you closed the app. you look at the message that popped up before your eyes.

tsukki: unfortunately, no. i asked him but the answer was negative. i’m actually texting with him right now.

you felt your heart tightening in your rib cage. he must’ve stayed awake all night. you could almost imagine tadashi’s typical smiley face ruined by two heavy bags under his eyes. it made you ache.

y/n: is he gonna head at the hospital?

tsukki: probably. today visits are prolonged, he’s telling he is gonna stay for most of the day. i’m gonna go with him and will let you know, okay?

y/n: okay... thank you.

tsukki: don’t look so sad, i’m sure everything will be alright. now go back to sleep, it’s way too early to be worrying about other people businesses, mh?

y/n: i guess... good night.

tsukki: sleep well, pipsqueak. see you tomorrow.

the stupidest grin painted your lips for about 10 minutes after reading his last text. you turned off your phone, laid it back on the drawer and stared at your ceiling for what seemed to be an eternity before your eyes began closing on their own, drifting you back to morpheus’ realm.

your sunday turned out to be as dull as you predicted. aside waiting for news on the tadashi’s situation, which didn’t arrive, you spent your day doing nothing and huffing the boredom out of your mouth.

monday begun, signing the last week of school before the christmas break you’ve been loudly yearning from the beginning of december. you were currently at the middle morning class of the day, scribbling doodles with your pencil on one of your notebooks, hardly paying attention to whatever the teacher was explaining.

your exams were over, school wasn’t preying on your head anymore, which you were so relieved about, still nothing new on the situation though.

you were biting your fingers not to text tsukki, you didn’t want to pressure him and you trusted his words, he had no reason not to update you on the whole thing, however you just couldn’t relax.

kei went with tadashi at the hospital yesterday. he must’ve got something to say.

the application showed his last time being online was “sunday, 6:32 AM” which was the hour you guys had your morning conversation. he hadn’t been online since. and tadashi being absent only made it worse.

the wait was killing you. if he didn’t even enter the app, maybe it was because something horrible happened. the unthinkable.

you bit your nails, played on your cuticles, tapped your fingers on the desk anxiously. the worst scenarios created in your head, to which tadashi’s father situation was irrecoverable. what if he...

you sighed, something you were beginning to do very often. it was useless to brood. you would’ve seen tsukishima during your last lesson of the day, you just had to wait until then to talk to him.

hours seemed days. you spent your lunch break alone in your class, staring at the students outside of the school with a blank stare and kept that face until the penultimate period. as the bell rang, you picked your stuff from the desk, hastily throwing them inside your bag and flied out of your classroom. you made the stairs almost running in order to arrive first.

as you arrived in front of the door, you quickly opened it, just to bump against the person who was behind it so hard you tripped backwards and fell right on your ass. with a pained grimace, and a whispered “fuck”, you heard the person in front of you speak.

first a low laugh. “i have a deja vu...” said tsukishima, reaching his hand out to you with an amused smile. “you really need to start watching where you go.” he added, this time a tint of seriousness.

you reached for his hand, letting yourself be pulled up from the floor. “i was looking for you.” you confessed, before looking both sides of the corridor. no student was around yet.

without giving tsukishima the time to say a word, you walked past him and dragged him inside the classroom, closing the door behind you. when you met his eyes, he was already looking at you with an inquisitive stare.

“don’t look at me like that, you know the reason.” you argued, sitting at the top of the desk. he stayed quiet for awhile, before beginning.

“his condition is bad.” he sighed, sitting down on his chair, looking away from you to immerge in his memory. “i didn’t enter the room, only yamaguchi did. the doctors told him he’s gonna make it, but he will need a lot of time to fully recover.” scratching the back of his neck, he swallowed. “i’ve never seen yamaguchi like that. it troubled me.”

you listened without even blinking, letting him continue his monologue in a sacred silence.

“i really don’t wanna go further. sorry for not telling you yesterday, but i honestly wasn’t feeling it, after all i’ve heard and seen. yamaguchi still doesn’t know i told you. i think i should stop sharing private informations... it’s not my place to tell anyone about it.” he stated, returning his focus on your face and fixing his glasses with his index knuckle.

“i’m trusting you with this, y/n. keep silent.”

you remained quiet, nodding slowly. and when you were about to speak again, after seconds of silence, the bell rang.

it didn’t take long before the classroom filled up with students and the teacher arrived. you got up from the desk and walked towards your seat, with tsukishima following right behind. you forgot your seats were next to each other.

as the lesson began, you tried to concentrate on the words the teacher was writing on the blackboard and the content of the lesson itself, however it didn’t take much before you started spacing out.

you pondered on tsukki’s previous words.

at least he was out of danger. he was going to make it. it was all you needed to know to calm down.

you had your chin resting on the palm of your hand, looking absentmindedly at your pencil case when a small crumpled piece of paper flied on your desk, right below your gaze.

you snapped your head towards the direction it came from, meeting tsukishima’s stare, who was laying his head on his crossed arms, motioning with his chin the item he just launched.

raising your eyebrow at him, you proceeded to quietly unfold it, reading its content.

“stop overthinking it” it reads.

your lips curve slightly upwards, before glancing over at the teacher. ascertaining she hadn’t notice anything, you slip your fingers inside your pencil case and take a pen out of it, beginning to write down. “what makes you think i am?”

crumpling it, you shift your eyes on tsukki, then at the teacher again. after seeing her turning around to write on the blackboard, you gingerly threw the little paper back on his desk.

you stare at him do your same previous gestures, keeping your eyes fixed on him as he writes down on the paper once more. as before, he throws it back at you.

hastily, you unfold it, noticing the paper starting to get thinner as it’s about to rip. “i know you.”

biting the pen cap, you stare at it for awhile. “are you sure?” you crumple it, sending it on tsukki’s desk.

“l/n!” the teacher’s voice shouted at the opposite side of the room. “don’t throw objects around the classroom. same for you, tsukishima.” she blasted, tapping her nails on the teaching post.

“i better not catch you doing that again. clear?”

you nod on your seat, looking straight at her frame. you knew how strict that old woman was, best not to piss her off if you didn’t want to get yelled at. especially considering she seemed rather... pissed, today in particular.

you gave tsukishima a quick glance, viewing his deadpan face, uncaringly stare back at the old woman. contrary to you, he didn’t seem to be bothered by her outburst.

though not even after 5 minutes, as you were starting to mind your business and forget about the whole thing, the piece of paper flied back on your desk. surprised, you lift your head up, looking subtly at him with the corner of your eye, just to see him taking notes on his notebook. or, at least, pretending to.

almost hiding yourself, you unfold it as silently as possible, curious.

“i am. i know you way more than you believe, y/n.”

you were about to write a reply on the back of the ruined sheet, when you notice something written at the corner of it, very small. “don’t think i forgot about that conversation.”

you feel a sudden, familiar, warmth on your cheeks, coloring the tip of your ears reddish.

swallowing hard, you grab the pen you left laying on the desk, when you see a hand posing on your desk. “mind reading what is written on that sheet to everyone in front of the class?” the teacher’s authoritive request felt like a slap on the face.

horrified, you notice everyone turned their heads on you.

“i’m...” cold sweat drop forms on your temples, “i’m so sorry.” you breathe, feeling the air being the taken away from your lungs, mortified.

“that’s enough for today. you don’t want to listen to this lesson? be my guest. out of the classroom.” her strict eyes darted on tsukishima, “the both of you.” she snarled, before snatching the paper out of your hands, “and this goes to the trash.”

you wanted to rebut, however there was nothing to be said or done. you watched as she approached the trash bin next the entrance of the classroom, ripping the papersheet several times.

“i said to get out.” she repeated.

tsukishima raised up from his seat, you following him right after. the both of you crossed the room in an awkward, ashamed silence, averting your eyes from every other student on the way.

when you took your last step out of the classroom, you heard the door being closed behind your back.

you and kei stare at each other for a short moment, before bursting out laughing, there, in front of the class you’ve just been kicked out of.

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[enstaries]

Hi! I was wondering if you had any headcanons for Adonis' sisters? We've only heard a little bit about them and how they are with Adonis, so I'm curious if you have any personal headcanons for them? What their personalities might be like, how they might act to Adonis' s/o if they ever met them, etc.? I hope this makes sense! It might be hard to make headcanons for them since we know so little about them, so if this is too difficult or confusing, feel free to ignore it!

www i don’t actually have solid hcs for his sisters but when i saw your request i thought of some personalities i’d like to see adonis struggle to handle HAHA so yes his three strong sisters

eldest sister~ ☆

→ as the firstborn of the otogari family, she’s the one in charge of keeping her younger siblings in check. they were raised under her praise and her scoldings, and is thus the most respected amongst the siblings. as much as she terrifies adonis, she’s the one he’d go to first for advice.

→ because she helped in raising them, she’s also extremely protective over her siblings. in the past, she’d beat up any bullies who targeted her younger siblings until they were strong enough to fend for their own. as such, she’s also become very wary of any strangers who enter her siblings live, including any potential significant others.

→ it takes a while for her to warm up to adonis’ new partner, but when they earn her trust and she recognises their care for her brother, she becomes very chatty. she doesn’t have many friends in japan - especially none that will listen to her chatter for hours on end about her siblings - and is the sister who’d show all of adonis’ baby photos to his partner and try to interrupt their dates to steal them away for herself.

middle sister~ ☆

→ the toughest of the three. she believes more than anything in the need to be strong, and gyms almost on a daily basis. her dedication to her physical fitness has made her the most muscular of her siblings, and also caused her to be unable to control her strength. more often than not she’s breaking down adonis’ door demanding him help her fix some keychain she broke.

→ she’s also the most feminine of the three, and melts overy cheesy romance novels. when they were younger, she was the one who read bedtime stories to adonis and swooned over the fairy tale romances, dreaming for her own one day. nowadays, she tries to hide this side of hers, and limits it to when she forces adonis to go accessory shopping with her.

→ of course, she’s thrilled to know that her little brother’s dating, though she laments over her own singlehood. demanding to know every last detail of adonis and his partner, she makes adonis recount all of his dates, and is the first to meet them. she’s also the one who gets her elder and younger sister to warm up to his partner.

youngest sister~ ☆

→ although she’s closest to adonis in age, she’s the one he’s the most wary about. after all, she’s usually the ringleader in them tormenting him, and he still has nightmares of how she’d fit him into her dresses and practise her makeup skills on him. of the three, she’s also the most bitter over his growth spurt, as it made her the shortest in the family.

→ indeed, she’s the one who has her two older sisters wrapped around her finger, and loves to tease her younger brother too. to adonis she may seem like a monster, but in truth family is of great importance to her, and she’s adonis’ greatest supporter in UNDEAD lives.

→ like her eldest sister, she’s aloof to adonis’ new partner at first. it’s only when she realises that she’s jealous of them seemingly stealing her baby brother all for themself that she starts to warm up to them. of the three, she’s the most determined to tease and embarrass adonis before his partner, which is also why he’s the most desperate to keep the two from meeting as much as possible.

[artistfingers]

sketches from the first 3 chapters of my tsukihina fic, soap bubble (●ˇ∀ˇ●)

[nothoughtsnoya]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAGEYAMA!!! 🎉🎉🎉

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

September Scribbles - Monday, September 27th

Genre: Humor

Featuring: Tsukishima Kei (900 wc)

Prompt: “Why are you doing that?” “Doing what?” “Treating me like a person.” (prompt from www.thefakeredhead.com)

A/N: Okay I had to make up for the Tsukishima angst I wrote last week Lolol. Happy birthday to the sassy middle blocker! 🎉 Also just a heads up Tsukishima thinks something mean about celebrating birthdays - celebrating birthdays is important and existing is something to celebrate! Didn’t want anyone taking it the wrong way!!!

"Happy birthday Kei dear.”

"Little bro! Happy birthday!”

"Tsukki! Happy birthday!”

Tsukishima is ready to tear his ears off.

Everyone and their grandma (as well as his own) has gone out of their way to wish him a happy birthday.

Frankly, Tsukishima can't stand birthdays. Why make such a fuss when he's literally only existed for 365 days? Only dummies who are hazards to society should be praised for not keeling over.

He could understand it for his teammates, but not for him.

And another thing - a bunch of random people feel the to need come up to him and talk to him, just because it's his birthday? Isn't the day about what he wants? Why would he want a bunch of random stuttering over their words to talk to him? He’s certainly not going to do the same for them.

The only thing he can do is get to school soon and find you. Because you won't give a damn that it's his birthday. Tsukishima could trip break his leg and you would point and laugh. And probably call him a dumbass.

That's why Tsukishima gets along with you so well- you both hold a similar disdain for the human population in general and have no problem telling people. A lot of people hate you for it, but Tsukishima’s been there to watch you say you don’t give a shit.

Hinata and Kageyama wont eat lunch if you're there. The last time you had nearly made Hinata cry with frustration and pissed off Kageyama so bad he crushed his milk carton in his hand. It was the best day of Tsukishima's life.

So he finally get to school, dodging people trying to talk to him and makes a beeline for you. But when he open his mouth to greet you, you turn around and surprise him.

"Happy birthday Kei-kun."

You're reading a book, so you don't see the look of utter confusion that comes across his face. He for sure thought you'd treat him normally, and here you are, saying 'happy birthday' like all of the other freaks?

He doesn't like it, and he's gonna get to the bottom of it

"Why are you doing that?'

"Doing what?' You reply without looking up.

"Treating me like a person."

That makes you look up from your book, only to give Tsukishima a glare. "I'm always this nice."

"Not to me." Tsukishima smirks at you, sinking into the familiar banter. "I didn't think you here capable of those emotions."

"Well if you're going to be a prick,” you snap you book shut. "I'm not going to give you your present."

That brings him up short again, and he just stares at you. "You got me a present?'

You look at him like he's the crazy one here. "Yeah, it's your birthday. Here, just take it." You shove the wrapped gift into his hands.

He takes it gingerly, staring at the dinosaurs on the paper. He can't remember the last time he got a birthday present from someone outside his family. Maybe Yamaguchi when they were kids. But he doesn't think he had the same fluttering feeling in his chest like he does now. Careful not to rip the paper he opens his present When he sees the photo on the box, he freezes.

No way.

He tears his eyes away from the brand new, top of the line headphones with noise canceling technology, and looks at you. Your eyes are firmly on the present, intently watching him open it up. But Tsukishima can see the light blush dusting your cheeks and how hard you are trying to not look at him.

“I had to ask your mom if they would be alright.” You must have noticed Tsukishima staring at you but you still weren’t looking at him. “Because the last thing I wanted was to give you the same present you had already gotten or if you even had these already but she said you’d like them and I thought the same thing too so it works out I guess.”

You’re rambling. Tsukishima knows you only ramble when you get nervous, really nervous. Like, final exams and things that ride on your future nervous. So seeing you ramble in front of him now is…unexpected.

Tsukishima doesn’t know how to respond. He loves his present, he loves you (his brain freaks out at that thought but he ignores it for now) but you’re looking like you’re going to faint so he speaks up.

“I’m surprised that your pea brain was able to think of such an useful present.” He drawls. “It seems above your abilities.”

Your gaze snaps to Tsukishima’s face immediately, and he catches the brief glimpse of relief that crosses your face before it’s replaced with indignant rage. You shove his shoulder, making him snicker in response. Back to familiar grounds.

But he does have to change it up once more. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. “Really, this is an amazing present. Probably the best I’ve ever gotten.”

Tsukishima is pleased to see another blush cross your face and relieved at the shoulder shove he gets again.

“C’mon,” you say. “Let’s go to class.”

He follows you to the classroom, still riding the high of receiving brand new headphones and getting them from you. He spends his last few minutes of free time planning what he’ll be getting you for your birthday.

END

September Scribbles Masterlist🧡

Taglist: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @ara-mitsue @meianshugoswife

[oikirstein]

𝐈𝐤𝐞𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 | ft. T.Oikawa, K.Tsukishima, O.Miya, & K.Sugawara

Synopsis: After finally getting a place together, you and your s/o go furniture shopping at your favorite store on Earth—Ikea 😍

Contains: Fluff

Posted: 1/5/2021

A/N: Hi um this is my first time doing headcannons and also my first post of 2021, but I don't wanna go to sleep so I’m gonna write these instead! Ikea is one of my favorite places to go to so I think this would be really fun. I also have been binge reading Ikea headcannons. This may or may not just be an excuse to think about domestic life with Oikawa...

𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐎𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

Oikawa is the type of person to go into those little show rooms and say “This is it! This is our apartment right here”

He gets distracted by every little thing, and I mean every little thing

Mans is like a whole ass child. 

You guys could be walking by the TV consoles and he’ll just leave the cart in the middle of the aisle to go look at—and fantasize—about where that specific red metal locker-looking TV console would go

He’ll run up to different displays, point to them, and turn to you with literal sparkles in his eyes and go “Y/N! Y/N-chan! Wouldn’t this go great in the living room?”

You enjoy seeing his child-like smile as he eagerly visualizes how your apartment would be decorated so you let him play interior designer

He honestly is pretty good at creating a cohesive room and you firmly believe that if he wasn’t married to volleyball, he’d definitely be doing something creative

Definitely checks himself out in the mirror section

𝐊𝐞𝐢 𝐓𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚

This man looks bored out of his mind

You’re like running around the store picking up different things and putting them back, throwing stuff into the cart, asking him whether he prefers the canvas or fleece throw pillows, and he’s just pushing the cart and smiling at you

After playing around with the strings of a questionable looking chandelier(??), he remarks that “it’s the ugliest lighting fixture I’ve ever seen”

You’re definitely excited enough for the both of you

He trusts your judgement in the furniture choices for the new place, as he doesn't particularly care, but he makes sure to tell you if something is absolutely horrendous

Acts pretty indifferent until you get to the kids section

He’ll quickly and smoothly slip away from your side to go look at the dinosaur plushies

“You’re a grown ass man and you’re still looking at stuffed animals?”

“Pfffft no,” he says while rolling his eyes and gently placing the triceratops back into the bin

“It’s okay. It’s cute,” you say while placing a chaste kiss on his cheek and throwing the toy into the cart before running away

𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚

Osamu’s favorite part about going to Ikea is visiting the restaurant before the shopping begins, and the little eatery by the registers at the end

This man is counting down the seconds until he can eat one of those warm cinnamon rolls

Nonetheless, he proves to be pretty useful in the decision making between furniture

You can kinda go crazy while picking what to put in your new apartment, but he’ll be there to remind you if something won’t fit or if something doesn’t go with the rest of the decor

Let me tell you, this guy is a whole wanderer

You’re the one left pushing the cart most of the time because he’ll just walk away from it to go look at something else

At the same time, he’s also the type to go into those faux apartments, sit on the couch, and tell you to go look around while he waits there

Will sneak up behind you while you’re looking at picture frames and give you a lil tap on your ass when no ones looking so he can see your cheeks flush red

You guys probably pick plants for each other when you get to the end

𝐊𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐚

You’re both equally crazy

Like borderline getting kicked out crazy

At least one of you owns one of those limited edition Ikea bucket hats

Neither of you can be trusted with the cart

You’d both be feeling up all the rugs in the carpet section and then it’ll click

Both of you look up at each other at the same time, your eyes wide, like “Where’s the cart?!”

It’s safe to say that at the end of the day, your place is going to look like an organized mess

Colors and shapes clashing in all the right ways

It’s almost abstract?

Anyway, you guys are probably taking turns sitting on all the mattresses, all the chairs, and all the sofas you come across

At some point, when you both get tired of running around, you find yourself standing behind the counter of one of the kitchen displays imagining what your new life’s going to be like, when Suga suddenly comes up behind you and hugs you by the waist

“Can you believe it?”

“Believe what?” you say turning around so that you’re facing each other with your back against the marble island

“This could be our kitchen,” he took a step forward to trap you between his arms, “We have a home, baby”

“I wouldn't have it any other way,” you whisper into his ear as you snuggle your face into his neck, taking in his scent like there's no tomorrow

He spins you around and says, “Let’s go,” to continue your adventure

You find it really cute that he makes sure to get some of those arts and crafts supplies for his class

© all content [unless stated otherwise] belongs to gellysticks 2021. do not modify or repost.

reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

[bokutsumie]

scene redraw :) i wish i made the hair more flowy now that i look at them next to eachother

[yanderecrazysie]

Entrance (Yandere Fan! Tsukishima)

Requested on my Quotev.

When I say that I love Yandere Fan x Famous Reader stories, I am absolutely not joking- I just freaking LOVE these stories!!! The most likely victim of a yandere would be someone in the public eye because these people are already put on pedestals and treated like gods. I’m so excited to write this asdfgfhfgsdfsad sorry for how late this is, but finally got inspiration AHH!

If you doubt me, go to a boyband concert and look around at some of the girls in the crowd and THEN tell me that not a single one of them would consider murder for their favorite band member.

Also, the way Tsukishima finds Reader’s location is based on a true story of how a psycho fan found and stalked a Japanese Pop Star named Hibiki Sato.

Title: Entrance

Pairings: Tsukishima x Popstar Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, Swearing, Slight incel vibes, not Tsukki stealing you from Yams lmao

Summary: You’re different from your bandmates- from every other idol somehow. At least, you are to your biggest, most obsessed fanboy.

entrance

/verb/

fill (someone) with wonder and delight, holding their entire attention

“Tsukki!”

The blond male sitting at his laptop paused in his typing and sent an annoyed glance to his bedroom door, which had been suddenly flung open by his closest friend.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi. Did you forget how to knock?” Tsukishima’s snide comment didn’t do anything to put a damper on his friend’s grin- if anything, the freckle-faced boy beamed even brighter.

The scowling man didn’t bother to ask his companion why he was so happy- he knew he’d find out in a moment. Sure enough, Yamaguchi eagerly brandished a shiny square case, practically shoving it towards him in excitement.

Tsukishima adjusted his glasses and studied the object- a CD case depicting a J-Pop girls’ group. The three girls were attractive in a somewhat-cutesy way. They stood close together, pearly-white grins across their faces as they held up peace signs, each of them clad in a different, glittery, pastel-colored dress with matching ribbons weaved into their long hair. The background was a faded pinkish color and covered in different illustrations of candies and sweets. A bold, bright, and cutely scribbled font above the idols’ heads declared what Tsukishima assumed was either the group’s or the album’s name: Candy Cloud.

“What the hell is this?”

Yamaguchi’s face flushed in embarrassment as his eyes darted away, his smile fading into a wistful expression. Tsukishima felt a twinge of regret for putting a damper on his friend’s spirit but… seriously? What was he thinking, acting so excited over some stuck-up celebrities?

They were all the same. Soaking up the fame and praise like narcissistic sponges when all they cared about was the money and attention their admirers gave them. The personas they showed off to the public were all for show, puppeteered by some publicist who knew what their audience wanted to see and hear.

Female celebrities were the worst- always so desperate to stay basking in the limelight that they would sell their soul to the devil if it meant that no one would forget about them. They’d pump themselves full of Botox and silicone, sleep with the most popular celebrities, and pull asinine stunts if they ever felt like the public wasn’t keeping their eyes on them.

The smiles and laughs they forced in interviews made Tsukishima sick to his stomach. So painfully fake. It was fascinating to see how bad singers were with words and how bad actors were at acting when it came to donning the masks their fans wanted to see.

He’d heard enough stories about these “sweethearts” and “oh-so-genuine” celebrities acting like disgusting monsters the moment they thought no one important was watching. Infuriating divas that verbally abuse their staff, condescending assholes that believe they’re better than everyone else, backstabbing bitches that no one likes but will never say so…

And what do their fans do when this news comes out? Even when faced with undeniable facts, they’ll defend their idol to the death, becoming utter hypocrites and making fools out of themselves. Simping for girls who would probably never know they existed and wouldn’t care about them if they did.

It didn’t matter to Tsukishima what these girls Yamaguchi was fanboying over pretended to be- he had no doubts that they went back to being self-absorbed bitches the moment the camera stopped filming.

Why would Yamaguchi invest any amount of time and effort into girls that would never know of his existence nor appreciate any support he gave them? Why couldn’t he just focus on a girl in one of their university classes or something? Tsukishima could stomach his friend gushing over just about anyone, as long as they weren’t famous.

The friend in question was looking at Tsukishima sadly, disappointed in the response he was receiving as it dampened the positive mood he’d been in, “Sorry, Tsukki, I just… thought you’d like one of them. All three of them are really cool and one’s your type.”

Tsukishima snapped back immediately, “And I’m supposed to believe she’d want to date me or something? They’re just braindead celebrities.”

Yamaguchi wilted and nodded reluctantly, muttering another apology. He stood there awkwardly as Tsukishima resumed tapping away at his keyboard and finally let out a meek excuse to leave.

“Goodbye,” said Tsukishima, not at all sad to see him go. Yamaguchi returned the parting word softly and scurried off, likely to listen to his CD at home.

As the night dragged on, a nagging feeling tugged at Tsukishima’s mind, distracting him from his essay. Why does Yamaguchi think I’d like one of them? Which one of those three girls did he think I’d even like?

Before long, the boy found himself typing “Candy Cloud” into the search bar and scanning the results. Sure enough, Candy Cloud turned out to be the group’s album name, their actual group being a mashup of parts of the members’ names. The first girl wasn’t his type, nor was the one in the middle, but the last girl, (Y/n), was just his type.

She wasn’t like the other celebrities he’d watched interviews of- she was entirely herself without a hint of deception. She giggled over the awkward moments but never lied, only ever saying “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that!” when asked a confidential question.

Her interests and values aligned with Tsukishima’s, to the point that he began to imagine that they agreed on everything. And, as one night turns to one day, turns to a week, to a month, and so on, he begins to delude himself into believing that you know who he is and already feel the way he’s beginning to feel.

Tsukishima no longer lets Yamaguchi come over.

He’s embarrassed, to a point, by how much you have taken over his living space. Your posters and pictures line his walls, your solos play on repeat, and he has every piece of merch, official or not.

Tsukishima studies the latest selfie you’d posted to your personal social media account. He grins. The name of the train station you’re at reflects in the iris and pupil of your big, beautiful eyes. It’s nearby. No more than a 15 minute drive and you’d mentioned “walking home” in the text portion of your post.

Soon enough, he’d be adding the best possible addition to his extensive collection.

You.

[peevishpants]

It’s Tsukishima Kei! The full piece will be in the @meganezine !! Reblogs, likes and any support is appreciated :>

Preorder the zine: here

An errant Kageyama: below

[calswildflcwer]

Secret Admirer ! ~ Part Two

Pairing : Camilo x fem!reader.

Warnings : Nothing, just pure fluff. Will be a kissing scene later in the story, possible foul language.

Plot : You and Camilo are best friends. Lately, you have been finding love notes attached your front door or delivered to your house with a bouquet of flowers. You had no idea who the love notes are from but it’s always so exciting to you so you always find yourself running happily to tell Camilo whenever you get a new one. One day, you do however find out who’s sending you the love notes and it comes as a huge shock to you and is something you weren’t expecting at all.

Pronouns used : he/him for Camilo, she/her for reader.

Note : I am not a Spanish native and I don’t know any Spanish, all Spanish nicknames mentioned in this story are translated from google. If anything is wrong PLEASE let me know and I will correct it.

Info : Just a little miniseries for our best boy, Cami!

Camilo taglist : @tigreost, @sweetaeyoung, @sunnth, @dai-tsukki-desu, @xxhome-is-where-ria-isxx, @cassiopeia-black-brenda, @elegantkidfansoul, @soumya-13, @eeyahhh, @camilos-mivida, @froggydobegaytho, @iwannabecamiloshovel, @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose, @n3r0-1417, @baileeblanc.

|| prev || part two || next ||

You flopped back onto Camilo’s bed, sighing exasperatedly. “We’ve been here foreverrrr!” You groaned dramatically. It had been two weeks since you had put Camilo’s plan into action. Camilo rolled his eyes at your dramatic flare before chuckling to himself, you were currently comparing the handwriting with the notes.

You rose to your feet, leaning on the back of Camilo’s chair and watching over his shoulder as he compared the handwriting. He tilted his head to the side slightly to get a look at you, “None of them match.” You said as you rubbed your temples frustratedly.

Camilo watched you, a soft smile gracing his features, he found you so adorable when you were agitated, “Maybe we missed someone?” He suggested with a shrug as he took in your scent slightly.

You groaned, “We went to every house, Milo.” You sighed, pushing yourself away from his chair.

Camilo sighed, partly at your presence being gone from him as you walked across the room, you sat on the bed. “What if it’s just someone messing with me?” You asked, staring down at your hands.

Camilo glanced over his shoulder, “Don’t say that, mi vida. There’s still plenty of people to compare.” He told you.

“No, no there isn’t. Camilo, we’ve been through everyone.” You groaned, flopping back onto his bed.

Camilo sighed, heading towards his bed and sitting beside your lying form, ��Mi vida, c’mere.” He told you as he laid beside you and held his arms out to you.

You sighed as you crawled into his outstretched arms, you rested your head on his chest as he held you close. “Why? Why would someone mess with me like that? Am I that unlovable? Am I that much of a joke?” You whispered.

“You’re not a joke, mi vida. You’re worth so much okay, don’t doubt yourself. There’s somebody out there that takes time out of their day everyday and writes you little love notes, surely that accounts for something?” He asked you as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

You sighed as you wrapped your arms around his torso, you closed your eyes and relaxed into him, “It does account for something… If it’s true.” You whispered.

Camilo let out a soft sigh as he combed his fingers through your hair, trying to relax you.

Camilo glanced down at your sleeping form, soft snores left your mouth as he stared over at the notes on his desk.

The same notes, that unbeknownst to you, were written by him. Camilo took a deep breath, carefully unhooking himself from the iron clad grip that you had around his torso. He gently placed your head on the pillow as he rose to his feet, heading towards his desk and grabbing a blank piece of paper. He quickly scribbled something out onto the paper before quietly sneaking out of his bedroom and knocking on Isabela’s door, “Isa, can you make me a bouquet of roses?” He asked when her door was pulled open.

She cocked a brow, “What colour? And who are they for?” She asked, a teasing smirk crossing her features.

“Uh, yellow and nobody you know.” He retorted.

She rolled her eyes, quickly making a bouquet of the roses and handing them to him, “You know that yellow roses mean friendship and joy, right?” She asked, cocking a brow.

He took them and shrugged, “She won’t know that.” He replied as he sprinted away from her room and slid down the stair railings before leaving casita in a full throttle sprint, almost bumping into Osvaldo on his way out.

“Ay! Sorry, Señor. Um, could you deliver these for me?” The teen asked, attaching the note to the bouquet.

“Of course, señorito, who would you like me to deliver them to?” The older man asked.

“Señorita (name surname), but don’t tell her they’re from me.” Camilo let him know.

Osvaldo nodded as he grabbed the bouquet and climbed on his donkey, heading off to continue the rest of his deliveries.

Camilo glanced back at casita before taking a deep breath and heading back inside, he headed back to his bedroom and quietly snuck inside, glancing over at your sleeping form on his bed before curling back up behind you, he wrapped his arms around your torso as he spooned you slightly before burying his face in your hair and closing his eyes, joining you for a nap.

This wasn’t unusual for the pair of you. You’d grown up together and had grown rather close over the years, you’d also napped together more times than you could count.

You awoke a couple of hours later, you turned your head to see Camilo sleeping peacefully behind you, a soft smile graced your features as you planted a soft kiss to the boys forehead before slipping out of his arms. You quickly collected your love notes up and quietly left his bedroom, closing the door gently as you began heading out of casita; your hands stuffed into the pockets of your dress.

You were heading back home when you were stopped by Osvaldo, “Hola, Señorita!” He called to you cheerfully as you reached your garden gate.

“Hola Señor.” You smiled sweetly.

“A very charming young man asked me to deliver these to you.” He said as he produced the bouquet of yellow roses; handing them to you.

“W-who was it?” You asked, shock taking over your features.

“I’m sorry, miss. They asked me not to tell.” He smiled at you, “I will say this though, you’re a very lucky young lady.” He told you before steering his donkey away.

You watched him go before staring down at the bouquet, a soft smile graced your features as you spotted the note, reading it immediately; Your smile lights up my entire world, so I hope these flowers make that light appear x.

You grinned, taking in the scent of the roses before turning on your heel and walking into your house.

“Mami! (Name) has more flowers!” Your brother yelled through the house.

Your parents both shuffled into the hallway as you closed the front door, “Are those from that admirador secreto again?” Your father asked, cocking a brow.

You lifted the flowers to hide the rosy tint that covered your cheeks and to hide the smile that came across your features, “They are aren’t they?” Your father began teasingly.

Your brother cocked a brow, “What does he even see in you?” He asked, folding his arms over his chest.

Your smile dropped from your lips as you glared at the older boy, “I’ve been wondering the same about your girlfriend and you for years but I never asked.” You spoke dryly, your glare boring into your brother.

He rolled his eyes, “Look, he’s clearly a wimp if he can’t even come out into the clear and tell you how he feels. Maybe he’s embarrassed to, I mean you’re not all that, are you?” He told you.

“Daniel, stop it. Your sister is a beautiful girl and anybody would be lucky to have her.” Your father said in a warning tone, glaring at your brother.

“I’m just say-” Daniel began to defend himself.

“Well don’t! It’s insensitive and rude and we didn’t raise you to be a bully!” Your father cut him off.

“Come, mi vida. Let’s put these in a vase and keep them fresh, okay?” Your mother said as she gently grabbed your hand and began leading you to the kitchen.

You placed the flowers in a vase as your mother read the note, “Your smile lights up my entire world? Who could these be from, querida?” She asked you as she grinned your way.

You took a seat at the table and shrugged, “I’ve no idea. Cami and I went around and got samples of every boys handwriting in town but none of them matched the notes.” You sighed.

“Maybe it’s a girl playing tricks on you and trying to make you think that you’re actually worth somethi- OW!” He was cut off when your father slapped him around the back of the head.

“Boy, what have I told you about insulting your sister! Quit it with the rudeness.” He warned his son.

“You said Camilo was helping you figure it out, right?” Your mamá said after thinking for a while.

You nodded, turning your attention back to her, “Haven’t you had a crush on that boy since you were a little girl?” Your father asked, cocking a brow as he sat at the table opposite you.

A red tint highlighted your features, reaching all the way up to your ears, “I… N-no.” You stuttered.

“Yes, you have, don’t deny it mi vida. Why have you never told him how you feel?” He asked.

“Because he’s my best friend and there’s no way he feels the same.” You shrugged with a sigh.

“Did you compare his writing to the notes?” Your mother asked you, staring at you as your brother dished up the meal.

“No, why would we? There’s no way they’re from him. Cami is a joker and a flirt, and as much as I love him, the notes that I’ve been getting have been too sweet, even for Camilo.” You mumbled, shrugging your shoulders.

“You never know, mi vida. People change for the people they’re in love with.” She told you as you all began digging into your food.

“Plus, yellow roses mean friendship and joy.” Your brother stated, earning confused looks from you and your parents.

“What?” He asked. “Destiny is good friends with Isabela, she knows the meanings of plenty of flowers.” He shrugged as he continued to eat.

You raised a brow as you stared at the flowers, eyeing them as you ate.

You headed to bed that night, placing the note in the velvet box before climbing into bed. You laid on your back and stared at the dark ceiling, a confused look emanating from your features.

“Camilo as my secret admirer?” You whispered to yourself before letting out a sigh.

“¿Podría ser verdad?” You spoke into the darkness before shaking off your thoughts.

“No, it’s not true. Camilo’s too… Too Camilo. It’s not him.” You whispered into the void before closing your eyes and letting yourself fall into a deep sleep.

~ Hai everyone! Here’s part two of the Cami miniseries! I really hope y’all have enjoyed it so far, lemme know what y’all think, angels! 😘 Stay hydrated, make sure you’ve eaten today, remember you’re loved more than you’ll ever know and stay safe, lovelies! Mwah! 💖

[enstaries]

Kuroshu wholesome date scenario? (∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

if your definition of wholesome is ‘awkward first date served with a side of childhood angst’, you’re at the right place (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

 Shu sighs, loudly so that it reaches Kuro. When it fails to garner any reaction from him, Shu speaks.

  "Listen here, I believe I agreed to go on a ‘date’ of sorts with you - purely to give you the opportunity to redeem yourself in my eyes, and for me to consider entering a relationship with you. Granted this opportunity, you choose to… do nothing at all but saunter about some deserted neighbourhood with me in your wake? This is… this is beyond me!“

  This time Kuro reacts, though it’s not necessarily the reaction Shu was looking for. He snorts, then stuffs his hands deeper into his pockets and strides on.

  "Honestly!” Shu hisses, yet he follows.

  Honestly! Then again honestly, he doesn’t really know what to expect. It’s been barely a week since Kuro cornered him after school and told him he liked him, and his stomach still twists when he thinks back to it.

  "W-why are you telling me this?“ Shu had demanded, still dazed even after the shock faded away. "You know better than anyone else that… that our relationship is in shambles. What do you want me to say - 'Yes, I’ve felt the same way about you all this while, Ryu-kun!’ - because I’m afraid that is not the case.”

  "…I don’t really want you to say that.“

  "Then why? We are no longer children, Kiryu. You cannot go on playing pranks and expect me to humour you.”

  "Itsuki.“ Kuro had reached out for his wrist, and the contact was scorching. "How about you humour me just once? Go out with me - just the two of us. Give me one chance.”

  In the heat of the moment, Shu had said yes. Now as he continues to trudge on on an unfamiliar and bitterly cold street, he regrets it.

  'If only I was back home,’ he thinks to himself, watching the snowflakes fall from the overcast sky. Caught in the wind, they twirl away, and he watches them twirl to the left and-

  "…Oh?“

  "What is it?”

  Shu hears the crunch of snow as Kuro stops and turns, and clicks his tongue. 'You choose to stop now, but not when I express open dissatisfaction? Honestly!’

  Nevertheless, he makes a gesture at one of the shops lining the pavement. “That ramen shop… it appears familiar.”

  "Ah, does it now?“ Kuro takes a few steps closer to him, and Shu stiffens. But then he sees Kuro’s expression soften. "You probably don’t remember, but that’s the ramen shop I treated you to after you were bullied by those kids in the playground. Remember, they pushed you into the sandbox.”

  Suddenly Shu’s knees prickle with heat, and he remembers the blinding pain of dry sand in his eyes. Red in the face, he jerks his head away. “I remember no such thing. I-if it did happen, by any chance, how certain are you that it’s this exact ramen shop that you… treated me to as you say?”

  "One hundred percent.“ Kuro’s gaze falls away from the ramen shop, and lies on Shu. "This is the neighbourhood we grew up together in, after all.”

  "W-what did y-“  Shu takes a step back, and now he can almost see the phantoms of their childhood selves running along the street to the playground they frequented.

  'Hurry up, Icchan! If you’re too slow, the swing set will be taken!’

  'W-wait for me! Ah, Ryu-kun, you’re too fast~’

  They continue running ahead, but Shu is grounded in the present, staring slack-jawed at Kuro. Kuro smiles.  "C'mon, Itsuki. Let’s go to the playground.”

  "…Alright then.“

  This time, Shu walks alongside Kuro, matching his pace. Their hands brush against each other, and Shu jolts.

  ”’s a pity the ramen shop’s closed today,“ says Kuro. "Let’s go together next time - I’ll treat you again.”

  "Who says there’ll be a next time?“

  "Hm, I dunno. Will there be one, Itsuki?”

  Shu knows Kuro is staring at him, and if he looks over he’ll see those intense gold eyes and it’ll be game over.

  "I’ll… think about it.“

  Next to him, Kuro exhales. A small, small sigh of relief.

  "I see. Thank you, Itsuki.”

  He takes Shu’s hand, and Shu doesn’t let go.