✧ ｡ synopsis : though hajime has reassured you time and time again that you two attending different schools would be plenty manageable in your guys’ relationship, your imagination is left to wander when he slowly begins to ghost you.
જ — a/n : pretty mellow chapter (kinda), expect more to happen from here
✧ ｡ synopsis : though hajime has reassured you time and time again that you two attending different schools would be plenty manageable in your guys’ relationship, your imagination is left to wander when he slowly begins to ghost you.
જ — a/n : unknown has been identified! (kind of) what do you think of her actions?
It’s what everyone always expects of twins — either they are both the same, or they are mirror opposites. No one ever looks at the grey area in the middle, the place that would show you that actually they are two separate, complex individuals, like any other person.
But that isn’t novel, so people don’t see it. Thus Atsumu is characterised as being the emotive twin, and Osamu the closed off twin. The ‘chill’ brother, the rational one.
From a young age Osamu played into it easily, learning to internalise everything, whereas Atsumu got to express himself. It came with advantages and disadvantages, like how Osamu could easily blame Atsumu for things he didn’t do because adults tended to believe him more.
What people didn’t know about Osamu was that he could be very jealous, spiteful even. Not that it’s inherently bad to be those things, but people didn’t expect that from him, so it was easier to keep it hidden.
It knotted up inside his stomach and took hold of his heart as he watched you laugh with Atsumu. He wished he could reach inside himself and pull it out like a weed — he knew it was irrational, that he had nothing to worry about.
Yet still, he couldn’t unwind the glare from his face, even when Suna raised his eyebrow at him in amusement as if to say ‘seriously?’
No one really expected Osamu to be insecure, especially not when it came to Atsumu. From an outsider perspective it was Tsumu that often whined about being compared to each other, recounted stories of how everyone hated him in school, how Osamu had been a better player for most of their childhood. What everyone failed to see was that Osamu was simply a good liar and Atsumu was not.
In his mind, he was… regular. He was stable, routine, closed off. Atsumu was adventurous, bright, endearing in his own way, he carried a proverbial spotlight with him wherever he went.
You had known them both your whole lives and after years of running in mental circles, he could not understand why you chose him.
Walking with your hands intertwined and sheltered in his coat pocket, he looks up to admire the cloudless night sky. You study him from the corner of your eyes, lip pressed into a tense line.
He’d been distant tonight. Actually, he had been distant for almost a week now. Initially you assumed it was because the restaurant had been much busier since he’d advertised at the MSBY Vs. Adlers game, so you thought he would benefit from seeing his friends.
Fat load of good that did, you sneer at yourself, feeling defeated. Having known him for so long, having loved him for so long, you’d wanted to let him come to you on his own terms with whatever was bothering him.
It’s becoming clearer now that he is not going to do that. You squeeze his hand to grab his attention, smiling up at him gently when he tilts his head to meet your eyes.
“You doin’ ok, handsome?” You ask, “I can tell you’ve been thinking hard about something”.
He grimaces. He should’ve anticipated that you would catch on to his awkward behaviour. It would be a lie to say he didn’t know why he hadn’t communicated with you, because knew the reason all too well.
He was afraid that you would realise he was right.
You let the question stew for a while and neither of you say anything as you continue down the familiar street close to your shared apartment. Osamu exhales headily, stopping short under a streetlight.
“M’not good at talkin’ about that kinda thing,” he frowns, feeling incredibly juvenile in that moment. You stroke your thumb along the line of his knuckles and step closer so your chests are nearly touching.
“That’s fine,” you hum, bringing your free hand up to rest against the curve where his neck meets his shoulder. “I have two decades worth of experience speaking in ‘Osamu’. I’m completely fluent”.
That startles a laugh out of him, mouth pulled up into a grin involuntarily. You weren’t wrong with that, it was unsettling how well you could read him.
“It’s hard because I know it’s irrational. I know it isn’t true, but it still bothers me”.
“That’s ok, though,” you slide your hand further up to cup his cheek, the corners of your eyes crinkling as he leans his weight into the touch. “You can know that it’s not true but still want to hear it from someone else, ‘Samu”.
A lump forms in his throat, his sight misting when he tries to swallow it down, overwhelmed at your obvious love for him.
“Sometimes I think that maybe you picked the wrong brother,” he rasps, glancing away from you. “Then sometimes I think you might’ve picked the wrong man in general”.
“Why do you think that?” You question him firmly, your voice strained in an effort to keep calm. You desperately want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him.
“I just think you could do better. You deserve someone exciting, someone that hasn’t already settled in life”.
“Well you’re wrong,” you growl, yanking your arm out of his pocket to cup the other side of his face and force him to look directly at you.
“You don’t decide what I deserve, ‘Samu, I do. And I don’t know where you got the idea that you weren’t exciting, or that you were settled for life, because you’re not—”
You pause and correct yourself, “we’renot”.
He exhales shakily, tongue sliding across his dry bottom lip as he takes in what you’re saying. “You own a business, a restaurant. You’re a fantastic and creative cook, we get to try new things all the time, meet new people every day. I don’t doubt that you’ll branch out and eventually open up other restaurants across Japan! We could end up anywhere. What about that isn’t exciting?”
“Miya Osamu, I’ve loved you my entire life and we have barely even started ours. Travelling? Marriage? Children? What about that screams settled to you, hm?”
He blinks. “You want a family with me?”
Exasperated, you fall against his chest and nuzzle into his collar, whining his name in complaint. “Yes, idiot. I’m spending the rest of my damn life with you!” You exclaim.
“So help me God, if you ever insinuate that I should’ve dated Atsumu again, I’ll—”
You’re cut off abruptly by his lips pressing hastily against your own, his arms enveloping around your waist to pull you harder against his front. He kisses you over and over, sensual and passionate to quick and fleeting, like he can’t decide how he feels. He beams against your mouth and his joy is contagious.
“I love you,” he whispers, rocking you side to side under the flickering streetlight. Perhaps he didn’t have an international spotlight but he didn’t need one.
Hello Hello and welcome to another Anilysium Server Collab!
We’re doings something a little different this time! Instead of the two separate collabs, we have both sfw and nsfw in one place, and we have a broad theme of Confessions!
We also provided some prompts that were optional for people to use, so now our creators had the freedom to run with their own ideas or use our prompt wheel to give them something a little more specific, and we’re gonna see how it goes! If you’d like to see some of our previous collabs, please check the masterpost here!
When does this collab go live? Monday 28th of February at Midnight GMT
7:21pm - timeskip!Kenma x f!reader; fluff, friends to lovers, 0.8k
You scrunch your nose and twist your lips, staring at Kenma’s monitor. There are nine minutes left on the opening countdown to his stream, the one you edited for him.
“You can’t be serious right now,” you tell him.
He ignores you. He’s on his phone sharing the stream’s link to his other social media platforms. You sigh, shift some granola bar wrappers lying on his desk and place the bowl of rice porridge in front of him.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this right now.”
“It’ll be fine,” he replies. His voice is hoarse and scratchy when it leaves his throat, causing you to wince as if you’re the one in pain.
“You can barely even talk right now.”
You aren’t supposed to be here right now. Typically you’d be at home on your own desktop, moderating his stream. Kuroo told you Kenma was sick so you assumed the stream would’ve been canceled.
“Tell your followers you can’t do it.”
You know why he’s doing it. It’s the last day the character he uses gets a boost in his attack and he wants to show what he could do with his newly enhanced weapon.
He picks up the spoon and eats some of your porridge. “I don’t need to talk,” he says, coughing right after. “The stream will be fine even if–” He coughs three additional times.
“Kenma, stop talking,” you say. “You’re making it worse.”
He switches to a different window to check if the stream is performing well. All of the settings look fine.
“You know it’s going to be weird to have a silent stream.” Over the years of him being a regular streamer, Kenma got a better response when he chatted with his followers and revealed his face. Kuroo encouraged him to try it.
Kenma opens a text editor and types his response to you.
You can talk for me.
You twist your lips, knowing how people act on streams. People love speculating about their others’ personal lives.
Atsumu is in your car and his heart pounds just the same. You haven’t seen him in five years.
“I–” he starts to say, but he holds his tongue. It’s 9:57pm and he was exhausted from the flight back. “How are you?”
The last time he saw you, tears flowed from your eyes. With the difficulty you had making friends in middle school, he was one of the few you had.
He was your best friend.
“I’m alright.” You fiddle with the compartment in front of you and Atsumu opens it to hand you a mint. You yawn and Atsumu assumes you had a long day at work. He doesn’t know the details of your life anymore.
“I’m actually dating someone now,” you tell him. “Hard to believe, right?”
The sound of your voice goes fuzzy and his mind becomes a fog. His heart thumps like a resounding gong and yet it’s eerily silent.
“How–” he asks, but his dry throat makes no sound.
“It’s kind of just…” You scratch your head. “We actually tried not to…”
Atsumu’s eyes go wide. “What are you talking about?” The two of you tried so hard to mend your friendship. After Atsumu confessed to you, you broke down in tears, knowing he had ruined the bond you shared with each other.
You take a breath. “I’m dating Osamu.”
Several light posts whizz by as you enter the freeway. Shadows flicker on your face and Atsumu wonders if you were the same person from five years ago.
“What?” he croaks.
You bit your lip and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “You did say you didn’t want me to try anymore.”
Atsumu ran his fingers through his hair, the memory of leaving you instilled in his mind. “I know.”
“You have a girlfriend,” you remind him. He had told Osamu last year.
Notes: I know a lot of my followers are from other parts of the world. So in case some people don’t know, blowing raspberries means to make that vibrating/spluttering noise when you stick your tongue out between your lips and blow.
I’ve had this idea for a while but only thought of all the witty banter today. lol. Inspiration just comes out of nowhere.
*****
Your son sits in front of you in a high chair as you scrape the bottom of the bowl with the soft-tip spoon.
“Rin,” you call him from the kitchen. “Could you get another jar of baby food?”
Suna checks the upper kitchen cabinet next to the fridge, jars lined up on the bottom shelf. “Organic raspberries? With mangoes?” he raises his brow with a jar in his hand. “Your child eats better than I do.”
You roll your eyes. He says that as if they weren’t samples his sister got from the local convention center.
The pot on the stove starts to boil, so you hand the baby’s spoon and bowl to him. But he’s not fast enough because his infant child starts to babble at him, complaining he’s still hungry.
“Atsumu called,” you told Suna as you poured the noodles into the pot. “Birthday gifts for his so-called favorite person.”
“He shouldn’t say that anymore.”
“That’s what I told him too,” you reply. “I guess he wants to see the baby in person first before ‘deciding’.”
Suna continues to feed him, making weird expressions with his mouth, as if it’ll help the baby get the food from his bottom lip.
“I still can’t believe you’re a dad,” you tell him.
“I still can’t believe you’re married,” he replies. To him of course, but he leaves that bit out because he thinks he’s funny.
sillage:the scent that lingers in air, the trace of someone’s perfume
Chapter Summary: Iwaizumi has a million and one questions when he learns Oikawa is back in Japan especially since it’s just weeks into volleyball season, but will he be able to handle being face to face with the Omega?
Pairings: Alpha!Iwaizumi x Omega!Oikawa
Word Count: 6069
Chapter Warnings: Anxiety. Brief mention of potential pregnancy. Mentions of alcohol and hangovers. Jealous Iwa. Fluffy MatsuHana. Protective big sister Emiko.
Rating:18+
A/N:I just want to reiterate that this is a slowburn series which means that things won’t just be patched up because they are both in Japan. That even though it’s fiction, I want to be as realistic as possible and while yeah, Iwa and Oikawa both share feelings, there’s lots they need to work through before they can start that conversation.
A/N 2: It’s a bit late but I made a character profile for Santiago ( X ) and thanks to @boosyboo9206 for helping me bounce ideas around with and Oikawa’s social media username!
