Groundhog Day

Merry Christmas Eve guys!!!!❤️❤️❤️

What have I stumbled upon?!?! It fits them all so well 😂

🤔STRANGER THINGS THEORIES🤔

Ok so this is a big theory I have for season five so just bear with me and if you don’t understand just nod and smile. 😉

Ok so I believe that when max wakes up in from her little coma she is either gonna be A) Blind or B) Not blind. So what I am thinking is that she will wake up after a while and then boom she is gonna be Max blind or not.

But I believe that when she wakes up she would not remember anything about Hawkins Indiana. So that means she would not remember El, Lucas, Will, Dustin anybody. Like she wouldn’t even remember moving there in the fist place. She would believe that her mom and step father are still together, and sadly that Billy is still alive. Then she would have to learn about the upside down agian and we all know how that went in season two so it’s gonna be difficult for her to comprehend.

Anyways these are only theories let me know what you think and

!NO NEGATIVE COMENETS!

Better than nothing

Summary: You and Castiel work together to help make Deans birthday cake.

Word count: 1.1k

A/n: Not my favorite but I just needed something to work on. ENJOY :)

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“So how do we do this?” Cas asked, the dough laid out flatly on the counter, three eggs rested on top of the mushy substance. 

Glancing over your shoulder from the mixing batter, you checked to see if the angel was correctly following your instructions. “Cassie, when you fold the eggs into the dough, you have to crack them.”

Cas furrowed his brows, facing the counter in front of him once more. “But, I don’t understand, you said we had to fold the eggs inside, you said nothing about cracking the eggs open.”

“Yes, I did tell you that, but we can’t eat eggshells, Cas.”

“Why not? Eggs are full of protein and nutrients for the human body.” He told you, slowly cracking each egg into the dough. 

You let out a sigh, wondering how your life had come to you teaching an angel of the Lord how to make a hand made birthday cake. “Cassie.” You mumbled, setting down your mixing bowl and making your way to the angel. “The chicken and the yolk have the protein, the shell just protects them.”

Cas let out a quiet hum, watching the way the yolk broke up into the sticky dough. Mixing into the other ingredients slowly, his hands continued to stick to the batter. “When would I know to stop mixing?” He asked, blue eyes meeting yours as he continued to mix. 

“When you can’t see the eggs by themselves anymore.”

He nodded slowly, hands kneading the dough until the eggs were deeply embedded into the batter. “What do we do with it now?”

“Now,” you began, quickly bringing over a pan to hold the cakes structure. “We place the dough in the pan, and let it bake for ‘bout thirty minutes.”

Cas lightly picked up the dough, placing it in the pan you held out for him. After that you placed it in the preheated oven, gently closing the door before setting the over timer. “What do we do while it’s baking?” He asked you, wiping his hands on his trench coat, any of the dough that stuck to his hands coming off on the poor jacket. 

“Well,” you began, making your way back to the mixing bowl, the whisk sitting upright in the homemade frosting. “I need to add the finishing touches to the frosting, but we do need to clean up the kitchen before the boys come back.”

“Right.” Cas muttered, picking up all the empty measuring cup that was laying around and placing them in the sink. “Would we also need to sweep up the flour on the floor?”

“Yes, Cassie, that would be just fine.”

As Cas cleaned the kitchen, you finished up the icing, placing it onto the countertop and helping out the angel with washing the dishes as he sweeps. 

Ding

“Y/n, I think the cake is done baking.” Cas told you bluntly, crouching down to sweep his dust pile into the dust pan. 

“I think your right, Cas.” You told him, wiping your wet hands onto a nearby rag as you went to retrieve the finished cake. 

The heat from the oven graced your face, the top layer of the cake a nice and warm bronze. “Perfect.” You hummed to yourself, using the rag to take the hot metal pan from the oven. 

“Hey, Cas?” You asked the angel, placing the pan on the counter to cool down. “Do you wanna swap? Me clean the rest and you ice the cake.”

Cas gave you a quick nod, swapping places with him, you watch out of the corner of your eye as the angel spread the blue icing across the now cooled down cake. Bits of the cake coming up with the small spatula he was using, an annoyed expression playing on his face the longer he tried to get the icing to stick. 

“Do you think Dean will like this?” He asked placing the spatula down and admiring yours and his work. “Because it looks a little…”

You walked over to his side, the rag you’d been using tossed over your shoulder as you looked over the cake. It was a dark blue, slight holes from where the icing wouldn’t fully cover the it, it also leaned on its right side. Though it shouldn’t since it was baked in a straight circle pan. 

“Funky looking?” You finished for him, both your and the angels head cocked to the side as you took in the celebratory dessert. 

The sound of doors opening suddenly caught your attention, “We’re back!” Sam called from the top of the stairwell, Dean behind him as he tried to look for any form of surprises for his birthday. 

“We’re in the kitchen!” You called back, placing one or two more dishes in the sink before you were met with the sight of the two Winchester boys. 

“Happy birthday.” You and Cas told Dean, bodies hiding the jacked up cake from the older man. “Why don’t you sit at the table and we will get started?”

Dean gave you and Cas a quick thank you before following your instructions, Sam made his way over to you. A shopping bag held tightly in both hands. He stopped momentarily in front of the cake, placing the bags onto the counter before facing you completely. 

“I thought you said, you and Cas were gonna make a pie?” Sam whispered to you, eyeing the lop-sided cake with curiosity. 

“We were,” you whispered back, placing a couple of candles on the cake. “But then we realized half way through that we didn’t know how to make a pie.”

Sam hummed at that, leaning over the counter as he slowly lifted the cake up and towards the table. “And clearly the cake looked a whole lot better than the pie.”

“Better than nothing.” 

Making your way to the kitchen table, you placed a small party hat on Deans head. Ruffling his hair briefly before taking a seat, Cas and Sam joining you after lighting the cake. 

“Well isn’t that a pretty cake.” Dean joked, swiping a bit of icing onto his finger and in his mouth. “Delicious too.”

“Yeah, well, it was either this or a box of Mac and cheese we’d be singing you happy birthday to.” You told him, swatting his hand back as he tries to get another taste. 

“It’s perfect.” He told you, giving a quick thanks to each of you as you all started to sing happy birthday to the older man. 

This is what he needed for his birthday, not a big party with some random people he barley knew. No, instead for his birthday he got a cake that was made by the people he loves and a day out with his brother, as Dean just pointed and said he wanted ‘this or that’ for his birthday. 

It was truly a day he would remember, for the rest of his life. How ever long or short that may be. 

Said, I was sorry

Summary: You’re pissed at Dean, and Sam and Bobby find it amusing.

Word count: 0.9k

A/n: Once more not my favorite, but still hope you guys enjoy :)

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The silence you gave off aggravated Dean to a higher level. And he didn’t know how to fix it. He’d apologized, tried to cheer you up with a slice of pie, he even listened to both Sam and Bobby on how he could make it up to you. 

But to no avail, you barely spoke to the poor man. 

He knew it was his fault, anyone could have told him that. In fact you reminded him plenty of times on the ride back from the case. God, that ride back to Bobby’s was dreadful, you made Sam sit in the backseat and wouldn’t even let Dean turn his music up all the way either. 

But, he would take that as punishment, if that would mean you would speak to him again. 

“So,” Bobby started, voice low as he watched you leave the small library of his. “What did you do to her?”

Sam bit back a laugh, hand coming up to his his smile from his brother. “Shut up.” Dean told him, hands coming up to rub his face. The long quiet drive back having drained his battery. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Bobby leaned against the desk, arms crossed over the other as he stared at the younger man. “What do you mean, ‘I don’t want to talk about it’? She’s barley looked or even spoken to you since you’ve been here. Now, what the hell did you do?”

“I- I messed up on the hunt, ok.” He finally told him, head hanging low for a second before meeting the man’s eyes again. “We were hunting the shapeshifter, and we were lead to an old drinking well out at a farm.”

Dean let out a deep sigh before continuing, “And you know Sam and I were to big and too heavy to go down the well, so Y/n had to do it.”

“So you, what? Forced her down the well, threw her down?” 

“No.” Dean muttered, slowly pacing the small library. “No, we tied a rope around her and we hoisted her up and over into the well, and-“

“We?” Sam asked, a playful smile dancing across his lips. “I think I went back to the farm house and tried to find the shapeshifter.”

“Ok, then, I hoisted her up and into the well.” He corrected, shooting an annoyed look at his brother. “And it was going great, I had a firm grip on the rope, she didn’t slip. But…”

Bobby quirked an eyebrow, “But?”

“But, we found the rope in an old shed, and as I was lowering her down the well, I saw- I felt a uh.” Dean lowered his voice, embarrassment seeping its way into his body. “A spider.”

“A what?”

“A spider.” Dean told him a bit louder. 

Bobby looked between both Dean and his brother, taking in the shame one had and the other trying to hold in his laughter. “Dean, what did you do?”

“I let go of the rope, by accident.”

A chuckle forced its way past his lips, a hand coming up to hide his ever growing smile. “So, what your telling me is that you dropped Y/n down a water well, because you saw a spider?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Dean tried to defend himself, his tone rising as both Sam and Bobby erupted into fits of laughter. “It crawled up my hands, got under my shirt. It was gonna bite me.”

“She had to ride the whole way here in soggy clothes, because we didn’t bring any dry clothes with us.” Sam told Bobby, 

Bobby laughed a bit more at the younger man actions, a hand coming up to wipe away at his eyes. “Look kid, just be nice to her, she’ll have to forgive you sooner or later.” He told Dean, keeping his voice low as he heard you make your way back to them. 

You came back with three beers in hand, passing two off to both Sam and Bobby before opening your own. Dean held out his hand expecting you to place a glass bottle in it for him, but just watched as you sit behind the desk taking slow deliberate sips of your drink. 

“I would like a beer.” Dean told you, hand coming back down to rest by his side. 

“Ran out.” You told him bluntly, flicking through a book that sat on top the desk. 

Dean pulled his lips into a thin line, dodging both Sam and Bobby’s eyes. “What do we have?” He asked, needing something to quench his thirst. 

You looked up at the older man, pretending to ponder the question. “We have water.”

“Then can I have water?” A cough came from his side, glancing over he caught Bobby and Sam giving him a look. “Please?”

A sigh left your lips before you got up once more, disappearing past the doorway and into the kitchen. “See,” Bobby told him, taking a quick sip of his beer. “Just be a little nice and she’ll forgive you in no time.”

You retured quickly, placing a cup onto the bookshelf next to Dean. Reaching over he picked up the cup, twisting it in front of him, a small scowl resting on his face as he faced you. “This is ice, Y/n.”

“Yep.” You told him, returning to your seat. 

“I asked for water.”

“You can wait.”

Dean let out a sigh, placing the cup back onto the bookshelf, “I can wait.”

I DONT KNOW WHO NEEDS TO SEE THIS BUT HERE ARE SOME LOST BOYS (1987) PFP’s

I have no idea who the artist is, if you know PLEASE tell me. BUT, LOOK HOW CUTE THEY ALL ARE 😭

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇)

🏐 — tsukishima kei x f!reader

— synopsis: something about the stars has always intrigued tsukishima, how even in the dusk of the night, the brighest star would light up the world and burn itself in the process. he also didn't know what to do when that star had turned into the person who seemed to make his days just a little bit better.

— warnings: nothing much, except angst. just soft yet also mean tsukishima who doesn't know what to do with those feelings of his. maybe he's a little ooc. based on "andromeda" by weyes blood.

stars, so miniscule, so far away from his touch, so beautiful even with the stygian waters that it swims on.

every night, after practice, tsukishima would walk his lethargic body home with his headphones in his ears, his neck bent backwards it could snap. but he didn't care, he wanted to watch the stars move and follow him.

he wanted to watch all the dead stars who shined the brightest, the stars that had turned into supernovas, the stars that are created. and he felt at peace— the soft rhythm and reverb of the song humming in his ears, and the stars that lead him home.

and occasionally, adding to his visual and auditory senses, a sweet drink on the palate of his tongue made his evenings better.

tonight was no different.

he had just bid his goodbye to his teammates, although timidly and without masking that annoyance he'd always bore against the little tangerine boy who always had a little too much energy.

tsukishima begins his journey, using the stars as his map, putting his hands in his pockets. yamaguchi hadn't joined him for tonight. actually, he hasn't joined him in a while, always walking yachi home, using her "safety" as an excuse (it really was the reason, but obviously there was another one).

still, he didn't mind the absence of his friend.

anri's soft doo-wop brings pleasantries in his ears as the song begins. his fingers tap inside the pocket of his gym shorts. he looks up at the night sky and connects his own constellations. tsukishima wonders if those stars ever know that they're being admired by millions of people in this planet, even if they'd died billions of years ago.

as a child, he used to think that the stars were the meteors that had killed his beloved dinosaurs. and every night, he would refuse to look up. but then akiteru, despite finding humor in his little brother's childish belief, had decided to tell him the difference between meteors and stars. and then added more information about those stars.

so now tsukishima loved three things: dinosaurs, strawberry shortcake, and stars.

his feet patter softly on the cobblestone that serves as a pathway to his home, the cool air drying the sweat off his temples and cooling his back, which reminds him to wipe his sweat when he gets home before he showers to avoid getting sick.

and then he suddenly comes in contact with a small body.

just outside of sakanoshita market, tsukishima's chest bursts in sudden (but light) pain from the person's elbow. and that person had emit a small noise of surprise and pain, stumbling backwards.

tsukishima was just about to snap, tell the person to look where they had been going and call them an idiot when his eyes met yours.

they're wide, irises darkened from the night's haze, and you're clutching your elbow, headphones askew. you rub the soft skin, a small pout on your lips and tsukishima wonders how painful was it for you to pout like this.

then you look at him and he feels the air stuck in his throat.

pretty.

"oh! sorry. i didn't mean to bump into you." you bow in front of him, hands pliant at your sides. tsukishima's at lost for words, lips only parted and looking at you. he still hasn't said anything when you bring yourself back up again.

"it's- it's okay." he finally stammers out, pausing his music and moving his headphones off from one ear. "sorry for not looking either." tsukishima bows slightly, just tilting the top half of his body.

you smile lightly at him, hanging your own headphones around your neck, scanning his figure. he suddenly feels shy under your curious gaze, watching as you read the print on the left side of his chest.

"karasuno...? ka-karasuno! i go there," you laugh lightly, like that discovery was the greatest news you'd ever heard. "i don't think i've seen you around. well, maybe because i'm new. i'm such a dumbass."

though the last sentence being a whisper, tsukishima contradicts: "n-no. i haven't seen you around either." he takes one step forward towards you, didn't expect himself to be nearer than he'd planned. "tsukishima kei."

you tell him yours in a polite manner, with a smile so bright you'd beat the stars that hover both of your bodies. "you're part of the volleyball club, aren't you?"

he hopes you don't see his wavering blush in the dim lights. "yes."

"cool! what position?"

"middle blocker."

"that's so cool," you face him, neck bent upwards to meet his eyes, hands forming into excited fists in front of you, like how hinata would get enthusiastic about something. "you're really tall. i bet, i mean if you could, you'd hit the streetlights when you jump."

that theory piques his curiosity. his eyebrows raise. "i haven't given it a thought. i will try it soon though." tsukishima finally removes his headphones and leaves them around his neck. he points to the bag in her hands. "what'd you buy?"

"chocolate milk. ukai-chan is your coach, right?"

"how'd you know?"

"i see him enter the gym everyday after classes. he owns this store," your head motions behind you. "can you tell him his mom is a little mean? i actually preferred it when he was watching over the store."

tsukishima smiles a little. "can't. he's our coach. he might actually drop us for his store."

your laugh may be brighter than anything else in existence.

"okay, well, see you around tsukishima-san." you smile at him, the pearls of your teeth glinting in the moonlight, the whiskers of your eyes denote the glee you've obtained from him and tsukishima softens just a little. you wave at him and walk past him.

he turns around, and even though your back was to him, his hand lifts and waves at you.

tsukishima walks home happier than he expected, a small smile lingering on his face.

🏐 —

"who you looking for, tsukki?"

yamaguchi serves his friend a teasing smile, holding the tray carefully in his hands. tsukishima looks down at his friend and deadpans:

"shut up, yamaguchi."

"sorry tsukki."

they sit down on the table hinata and kageyama sit on, the two bantering quite loudly on which flavored milk was the best and is advisable to increase their energy. kageyama says: "banana, you dumbass."

hinata argues that: "it's chocolate! it makes people hyper for a reason. could you watch your language?!"

tsukishima and yamaguchi sit beside each other, their backs to the window of the cafeteria, which meant that tsukishima has a view of the entire room, his height being an advantage despite the large crowds.

he blindly brings his bento out of his box, his eyes never leaving the heedless crowd. yamaguchi, ever the curious, most specifically the friend who always wondered what it is that ran through tsukishima's mind, asked again: "seriously, tsukki, who are you looking for?"

tsukishima huffs. "just sawamura-san. i need a-advice. on my blocks." the lie slips easily off his tongue that yamaguchi can't decide between believing him or forcing the truth out of him.

but tsukishima is slightly disappointed that even after five minutes, he still can't see the color of your hair amidst the throng of students. though his face might say otherwise (rbf), he can't help but feel a little sad.

maybe the star isn't shining so bright today.

he pokes and prods at the vegetables placed on top of his rice, stabbing the carrot and shoving it in his frowning mouth. he doesn't notice that hinata has been observing– no, looking at him. because hinata was never the type of person who could be discreet.

"stingyshima, you look sad," he doesn't know if it's a tease or not, but maybe it is. "is he looking for someone, yamaguchi?"

"i don't know," he shrugs. "he says he's looking for sawamura-san."

"he's right there," kageyama jabs his finger behind him, seeing daichi in line for the cafeteria food. "your blocks haven't been good? figured."

"sorry if i haven't lived up to your standards, king." tsukishima sneers. yamaguchi and hinata laugh, kageyama burning in his seat.

eating his lunch ended quite faster than he thought it would, and soon he finds himself walking along the hallway of the school building waiting for the remaining free time to end. so his boredom drags his feet towards the nearest vending machine.

the device on his ears blocked out all the haze and noise of the world, which left him in his own environment. it eased the nerves that trickled along his veins, rubbed the tension off his shoulders. in his own milieu, he could think whatever and say whatever and do whatever.

just like how stars form themselves however they please, explode and die whenever they want to. tsukishima didn't have better knowledge of stars than he knew of dinosaurs, but it was his own thought and he had the freedom to think whatever it is (although of course, with just a little bit of accuracy and validity).

tsukishima's eyes scan the plastic divisions for the sight of any strawberry drinks. when they land on one, he types the number and slips the cash in. the conveyor belts begin to twist.

but much to his dismay, when the drink was pushed, it never fell.

he tuts in frustration, his head falling backwards to release a tired, irritated sigh.

and then you pop up beside him.

tsukishima jumps lightly when he sees you put your head out and smile at him, clutching his heaving chest. somehow, your laugh had managed to drown out the song in his ears; he doesn't mind though. he thinks your smile was the most beautiful orchestra ever conducted.

he puts his headphones around his neck. "they're incredibly annoying, aren't they?" you smile up at him. "here, i'll help you."

suddenly, you begin to violently shake the vending machine. tsukishima almost feels embarrassed for you, but the lack of audience has rid that feeling. you, with your height, looked like a child angrily throwing a tantrum and had transferred your anger towards an object.

nonetheless, adorable.

finally, the strawberry drink fell down, and you squat to pick it up from the port to give it to him. tsukishima takes it from you and says: "thank you."

"no problem!" you beam at him. "i was actually looking for you earlier. i couldn't see you. did you eat at your classroom?"

tsukishima removes the plastic of his straw. "no. i was at the cafeteria." he doesn't want to admit he's looking for you too, but he hopes you can see it in his eyes.

(you don't. to you, he looked uninterested and entertained at the same time. very hard to read)

"aw, alright. well, i was just wondering if you'd like to, uh, switch emails?" you're shy and he finds it amusing. "not switch like i use yours and you use mine, but switch like i take yours and you take mine... so we could text each other..."

he wants to say that he knows, he's not dumb. but you– your eager eyes of softness look up at him and he forgets how to be so cruel and cold. like you were the kind of fire to melt the falling snowflakes. tsukishima nods.

"sure." he pulls his phone out with one hand from his pocket and hands it to you. you take it and give your phone to him, and it felt smaller in his hands.

when you exchange phones again, there's shyness written across your face. tsukishima can't help but blush with the way the sun kisses your skin the way it would to tainted windows– radiating colors so beautiful he can't help but simply be at awe towards you.

a star is created somewhere far away. tsukishima's heart skips a beat.

"i was actually looking for you, too. earlier." he admits, putting his phone back in his pocket. "i couldn't see you. sorry."

"don't be sorry!" there goes that smile again, always making his heart flip. "we both struggled anyway."

"do you want anything?" he points to the vending machine. "chocolate? banana? strawberry?"

"can i try yours first?"

tsukishima pauses, the straw in his mouth just finishing his sip. there's innocence in your eyes that riles him up the wall in ludicrous ways. he slowly takes the straw out between his lips and hands it to you, with you greedily taking it from him before his hand met you halfway.

he swears he could've been redder than any other person in the world when you so shamelessly put his straw in your mouth.

should i be worried about the germs or the fact that we kind of just kissed but not really?

when you sip, you swallow and he can see your brain ponder on what decision you were going to make. you hand it back to him and say: "yeah, i like that one, too."

how could you act like you didn't just drink from his straw?

tsukishima gets you one, this time without shaking the vending machine and hands it to you.

"thank you." you say, your smile adding to your gratitude.

though it seems as if time has reached its end and a familiar sound rings across the hallway that reminds the both of you that the free time was over. tsukishima sees your pout but you don't directly show it to him.

"well, see you around, tsukishima!" you wave goodbye to him, walking away.

tsukishima stands still, staying at his place. his drink was no longer cold, the condensation dripping down his fingers.

somehow, the colors are brighter, the drink was sweeter, the tension from his body had disappeared, and everything else felt lighter. and even if you were no longer standing in his proximity, that luster you left behind etched itself to him.

you were now his new environment.

🏐 —

you. hi tsukishima! 3:13pm

when his phone dings, he places his waterbottle to his side, tuning out the sound of squeaking shoes and bouncing balls. he sees your name on the screen. he doesn't hesitate to text back.

tsukishima. Hi. 3:13pm

his palms sweat from simply typing that greeting. but his heart seems to beat faster and his chest feels light. he didn't expect that you'd text right away. nevertheless, he feels elated to see you text him.

you. didnt see u at the gates earlier during dismissal, do u have training today? 3:15pm

tsukishima. Yes. 3:15pm

you. oh really? until what time? 3:18pm

tsukishima. 7. 3:18pm

you. okay! thats kind of tiring haha. 3:20pm

tsukishima. It is. 3:20pm

he winces at the possible tone he may deliver, so he adds:

tsukishima. Haha. 3:20pm

"bruh, you text so lame."

it seems that tanaka had been peaking over his shoulder as the conversation ensued. tsukishima hugs his phone to his chest and glares at him. "that's invasion of privacy."

"and that's how to lose a girl," he points at his phone. "you text like you're so uninterested."

yamaguchi looks at the two. "who's tsukki texting?"

"some girl named, uh,–"

"no one." tsukishima snaps. "no one."

"oh, it must be the one tsukishima was looking for earlier," hinata runs– or skips towards them. "stingyshima flirting? i wonder how you look like. i'm smart, but i won't tell you that i'm a smartass because i wanna impress you with my blocking skills. i'm so cool and so tall."

tsukishima hates how hinata mimics him. he bites back. "oh, i'm hinata. i'm so small."

much to his dismay, even sugawara had joined in. "you could tell her that, you know, i'm so tired. but i'm drinking water so that's good enough for me already."

he responds with respect, though dripping his annoyance. "sugawara-san, please don't mimic me."

his phone vibrates again, and everyone else leans in to look. tsukishima snarls and moves away from them, clutching his dear phone to his chest.

you. any chance we could drink later? 3:27pm

you. not alcohol, of course. just milk or juice, or a shake, even yogurt. although, we can't drink yogurt... 3:27pm

tsukishima feels yamaguchi peer over his shoulder, and he knows its him because of that distinct smell of his. he doesn't hide the phone away even when yamaguchi says: "she's asking you out! go!"

"calm down, yamaguchi."

he shakily types his response.

tsukishima. Sure. By the store again? 3:27pm

three dots, he's awaiting for your response.

you. okay! see you there :) 3:28pm

🏐 —

his practice ends at 7 on the dot. tsukishima has never left faster in his life.

though he was always the first to leave, bidding them goodbye before walking his way home. this was different– his goodbye bore that sense of urgency with a twinge of excitement as he clumsily slipped his regular shoes on, walking as fast as he could away from the school campus.

coach ukai had actually offered that they go back to the store together, but tsukishima was in a rush.

it was an eight minute walk to the store. he got there in five.

you were no longer wearing your school uniform. you had your hands at your sides, rocking back in forth from the heels of your feet, your headphones bobbing along with your head as you listened to your song. tsukishima wonders how he would approach you.

a tap on the shoulder? yell your name? appear in front of you? should he turn you around violently and smile awkwardly? should he–

"tsukishima-san!"

he didn't realize that he had spaced out, blinking. you approach tsukishima as you discard your headphones to hang them around your neck, stopping just a few friendly feet from him.

"how was practice?" you pip. "you look exhausted."

tsukishima reddens. "i'm alright. same practice anyway," he rubs the back of his neck. "should we go inside? i'm thirsty."

he hopes he doesn't sound too demanding. but you reacted normally, gave him a pretty smile, and led your way towards the store.

coach ukai's mother sat behind the counter, sporting the same cigarette in her mouth, a garbled greeting escaping her without bothering to look up as she read her newspaper. you and tsukishima find your way to the back where the drinks are.

he opens the door for you, the appliance bulb casting a white glow over your face as you bent and searched for what drink made your veins twitch with excitement.

"by the way, you know yachi hitoka?" you balance your hands on your knees, looking up at him. "she's your manager right? i'm in her class!"

"really?" he queries, swallowing thickly. "you're really smart, then. it's one of the higher classes."

"i try," you shrug shyly, looking back at the selection of drinks. "anyway, i asked her about you. she said that you were a middle blocker, 6 foot something, and that she liked your friend yamaguchi? i don't know, she said it then she denied it."

"oh, she likes him alright," he chuckles. "he walks her home every night."

"really?!" you pick up two cans of coke and clutch them to your chest, standing upwards. tsukishima shyly reaches for another strawberry drink. "i'm mad at her for not telling me that."

you make your way to the front with tsukishima following behind you. you place the contents on the counter, the woman behind muttering something you can't discern as she scanned your orders.

"are you allowed to stay out a little longer?" you ask him, the soft beeps of the drinks grazing his ears. he shrugs again, reaching for his wallet.

"yeah, sure. do you want to do something?" he places the payment on the counter before you were able to take your own cash out. you pout.

"i was going to pay for mine."

"it's alright. it wasn't that expensive, anyway." he smiles a little at you. and it was the first time tsukishima had ever smiled kindly at anyone, except yamaguchi, his mom, and akiteru. "you were saying?"

you pop open your can. "i found this really nice spot where you can stargaze. and, honestly, i'm bored and tomorrow's the weekend. i would have invited you to do this tomorrow, but we're here now!"

he laughs through his nose. "i'm free anytime."

when you both approach the exit, coach ukai and the team stand by the open doors. tsukishima stops on his tracks, his mouth parted the slighest as you tip your head back to drink your soda. when your head comes back in place, your eyes settle on the crowd upon you.

"oh, hello ukai-san!"

tsukishima looks at you through his peripherals before darting his eyes back front. they all snicker, eyes widened at the sight in front of them— cold, narcissistic, mean tsukishima kei, with probably the nicest girl in all of karasuno. yachi waves at you.

"is that why you were rushing to get out, tsukishima?" ukai teases, a cigarette hanging loosely off his lips. "i see you've met my number 1 customer."

he blushes when he's exposed, and he ignores the way you give him a surprised glance.

"so you must be the girl he was texting earlier," tanaka approaches you, offers his hand. "forgive him. he sounds lame when he texts, but trust me if you saw his face he looked like–"

"tanaka-san." tsukishima almost pleads.

while shaking his hand, yachi approaches you with yamaguchi behind her. "this is why you asked me about him!"

"shut up, yachi."

tsukishima could die right then and there. melt into a puddle of sweat and embarrassment. there were words exchanged between you and his ever loving team, the heat on his face becoming hotter and hotter at every second.

he wishes he could leave now.

by the time hinata begins to ask you a question about tsukishima's attitude, he sighs loudly. "excuse us, but we have to head out now."

you look at him again. "we do?"

"yes, we do," he looks down at you. "you told me, remember?"

you smile at him, recollecting your invitation. "oh, yes! we should get going."

you offer your goodbyes to the curious group. tsukishima wallows in discomfort, walking away with his shoulders slightly slumped and a hand in his pocket.

"i like them," you tell him, drinking your coke. "they're nice."

"they're really not," he takes a sip of his drink. "if you hung out with them, you'd be just as annoyed as i was."

his "joke" makes you laugh. first he thinks what could be so funny about his comment, then he realizes you don't actually know that he wasn't joking. the thought makes him swoon just a little.

"so why stargazing?" his and your feet are synchronized, stepping on the uneven cobblestone to the destination that tsukishima still doesn't know. your shoulder is closed to his when you walk; he resists the urge to put his hand out so that they'd graze your fingers, feeling the heat rub on his calloused skin.

"yesterday, when you walked home, i looked back and saw you look up at the sky," you reply. "and i realized that "oh, he stargazes too!" so i decided to bring you to my spot."

"your spot?" you hum in agreement. "why?"

"because it's nice to share the feeling of looking up at beautiful stars." you throw your now empty can onto a nearby bin, opening your second one. "i figured maybe you might feel the same way i do."

if it was admiration then yes, he felt the same way you did.

🏐 —

tsukishima realizes the walk was 10 minutes away from his home. now you're both standing at a hill where you can see all the houses nearby and karasuno at the other side.

you sit down on the ground, he copies you. his bottom sits on the soft soil, his fingers prickled by the grass, and the cold smell of the meadow enters his nostrils.

he thinks that everything is happening a little too fast – he had only met you yesterday, exchanged emails earlier, went out to buy drinks, and now you're both sitting at a hill stargazing like it's a date. your optimism and kindness shakes him a little, leaving him with an unknown thought of what he could possibly do as of this moment.

yet he's still here, watching you gaze at the stars, the sheer glow of the moon kissing your cheeks, the stars reflecting off the mosaic of your eyes. you're radiating this cordial heat that wraps around his right arm that rests just millimeters away from you.

"told you it's pretty," you beam, lips parted, never sparing him a glance. "you see that? that's cassiopea right there."

you point to the sky and squint, and it's only then tsukishima takes his eyes off you and follow the direction of your fingerprint.

you trace the invisible strings that connect each star to one another. blearily, his imagination turns those strings into silver. tsukishima draws nearer towards you, his shoulder now bumping yours, his pinkie grazing the skin of your finger.

"andromeda isn't here yet. but it's the one i've been waiting for the most," you turn your head to look at him.

tsukishima's breath hitches when he realizes that he may have underestimated how close the proximity he had created was, your breath fanning his face. he senses your surprise, the way the bottom of your eyes twitch lightly and your nose scrunches a little.

"i figure maybe they arive in a few weeks," he murmurs. he can sense your surprise and says: "you're not the only one who knows about stars."

"yeah? figured you were more into dinosaurs."

"that's true," he sniffles, you giggle. "when i was a kid i thought that the stars were the ones who killed the dinosaurs. so every night, when i see them, i would always cry 'cause i thought that they might fall here and kill us all."

"pessimist, huh?" when your head tilts up, your chin bumps his shoulder. "anything else i should know about you?"

"there's one thing i want to tell you but i've been making it plainly obvious."

"you have a knack for strawberries."

"yes," he smiles a little, the whites of his teeth appearing between his thin lips. "i like music."

"so do i."

"yeah? what genre?"

"...anri..."

"really?" tsukishima's eyes brighten, maybe even brighter than the stars. "i like her music."

"i thought you were kind of a japanese rock kind of guy."

"i can be many things," you look back up to the sky, your eyes darting between each individual star like you're tracing another constellation. tsukishima's tracing the features of your face like it was his constellation.

"yachi says you're mean, but in a way that brings up the team's drive to play harder," you say into the wind. "please don't be mean to me. i cry easily."

tsukishima wonders if he can even smile more than he is now. "i'll try my best. you're giving me a lot of reasons to be mean right now."

"but you're not being mean to me right now," you poke his glasses and shove them to his face, hurting the bridge of his nose. albeit tsukishima doesn't mutter a single complaint. "you're just being dorky."

"i am not!" he balances his body with one hand behind him, the other tugging on the end of your hair.

"now you're just being childish!"

your laugh beats out all the songs he had to search for to complete every single of his playlists. it was as soft as silk, as dulcet as violins; it was something he'd play on repeat when it played on his headphones. and your sweet laughed matched the way your face became even more beautiful.

tsukishima feels his heart beat a little bit faster.

a star explodes. supernova.

he no longer feels wearied from practice, his body languid from comfort in your presence. and just like last night, he was happy his day ended with something that lacked the usual bothersome feeling in his chest, but something that decompressed every constraint muscle in his body and think of something else that made the corner of his lips smile and his heart elated.

that's why when he went back home, when his mother and akiteru (who was visiting) were dead asleep, he silently descended to his room with a smile on his face, brushed his teeth with the sound of your laugh echoing in his ears, changed his clothes with your scent somehow lingering, and went to be thinking about you.

🏐 —

the past few weeks were more eventful than the days he had to train for the inter-high preliminaries.

the more he saw you, the more he felt himself unwinding like a diurnal motion, every trust and rigor travelling through his veins whenever your aura touched his opalescent skin.

you were the succor to his weary bones. you were the happiness that he never truly found in others. you were the light brighter than the stars could ever give him in the dark.

secrets were passed the way notes would in classes.

you got a sweet tooth? what dessert do you like?

strawberry shortcake, tsukishima said. no regrets, no embarrassment. pure adoration.

did you know that velociraptors aren't actually that big?

yeah? how'd you know that, tsukishima?

it's called reading, he'd roll his eyes. you're in the highest class and you don't read?

his retorts were never used to add insult to injury. that's what he liked about you– you knew when he was serious and when he wasn't despite the fact that tsukishima believed that he was hard to read. it seemed like you were able to read him better than yamaguchi has.

his heart aches at the thought. the ache, painful but so good, but something that he could not discern the true intention.

but he could never let you in him. never in his life.

you. saw a frog and it looked like you. loser. 12:51pm

you and tsukishima had exchanged countless of texts that contained topics that he never expected himself to be indulging in. that familiar ding! of his phone reminded him of you already, because you'd been the only one who constantly texted him more than yamaguchi has.

(also because, well, he set up a different tone for you.)

tsukishima sees your name pop up in a rectangular notification on his screen. he opens it with sweaty hands and a towel over his head, his thumbs typing out a snarky reply.

tsukishima. How could a frog look like me, (y/n)? That's dumb. 12:51pm

he ruffles his towel over his damp curls, the sweat on his temples being sucked into the cloth. he watches the three bubbles appear on your side and you say:

you. because i said so. look! 12:52pm

the attached image looked far from what tsukishima looks like. it was a regular frog, beside a pond, with no thoughts. he rolls his eyes.

tsukishima. I don't see it. 12:53pm

you. thats because youre not LOOKING. do u see his eyes? literally you. i think its the mouth, haha 12:54pm

he laughs either way despite not having seen any similarities. but laughing seemed to be a mistake, as he forgot where he was at the moment.

"quit laughing, tsukishima. you'll slack off," kageyama taunts from afar, face etched into an arrogant smirk. yamaguchi approaches him, peeking over tsukishima's shoulder to snoop on the conversation.

"are you worried i'll ruin your game, king?" tsukishima rubs the back of his neck, tilting his chin upwards. "my apologies."

you send him another text: omw there to see u :p 12:59pm

the latter's growl was overpowered by yamaguchi's hum of interest. "tsukki, that frog does look like you."

"yamaguchi, how nosy are you?"

"nosy enough to ask when will you tell her that you like her?"

tsukishima's eyebrows furrow. he did not like you. during those weeks, the both of you did more than just exchange texts in any time of day– often you'd meet after classes and buy a drink when he didn't have practice; sometimes you'd wait for him until seven in the evening so you'd both go up the hill again and talk mindlessly about things that tickled your brains.

in those few weeks, he had learned more about himself than he ever had with anyone else.

and he feels, though never actually given any attention to, that his days ended with a smile on his face rather than feeling boredom creeping up his shoulder like a grim reaper would on a dying soul.

instead, it felt like he was resurrected; tsukishima felt like a shooting star falling through evening, the fire pulsing through his veins as he fell. with you, he felt like everything else had color, that everything else made sense.

his life became brighter that it seemed like hinata's hair was actually on fire from the bright orange hues.

so no, he did not like you.

"i don't like her." he wipes the sweat that dripped onto his glasses. "don't be ridiculous."

"yesterday, when you were eating, you kept talking about how this (y/n) girl told you how the dinosaurs from jurassic park were created. and all of us were talking about one piece."

"so? it's way more interesting."

"but not her?"

"yamaguchi," he bemoans. "nothing is interesting about her."

that lie. that sickeningly, macabre, heartbreaking lie that it even hurt him to say it. tsukishima also doesn't understand why yamaguchi has a horrified face plastered on him, but he realizes he wasn't looking at his friend, and was looking behind him.

he whips his head around.

the tips of your shoes had mud on them from the dampened soil. your umbrella hung loosely around your wrist and dripped on the ground. your fingers clasped around a small contained with what seemed to be strawberry shortcaked that looked delectable enough to make his stomach hurt. and your chest heaved from what he assumed was the aftermath of rapid walking.

despite the sight that had made his head spin, the affliction that twitched from your frowning lips and the gloss that made your eyes shine from dejection had turned the situation into something so monotone he feels like his soul had just left life.

a star dies in the middle of the galaxy.

tsukishima thinks the regret plastered on his face may be seen. he hopes that it is.

the sound of squeaking shoes and ricocheting balls continue, but the ringing of his ears are louder. you swallow thickly, shuffling on your feet, and approach him hesitantly like he'd burn you if you were near him.

"i brought you this because you looked so pale yesterday after you practiced," you say softly, though he could hear the pain in your tone. tsukishima takes the container from your reaching hand, and swears he sees your breath hitch when his fingers graze yours.

"thank you–"

"see you around, tsukishima," you bow, before you hurriedly leave the gymnasium.

it felt like the room was shrinking rapidly on him, his muscles pressing in on his body in a suffocating manner. yamaguchi puts his hand on tsukishima's shoulder, leaning down to check in on his distraught friend.

"tsukki," his eyebrows are raised in concern, voice loud enough to snap tsukishima out of his pity daze but low enough that everybody else remained distracted. "hey..."

"i'm fine," he looks up at him. "it's nothing. i'm- i'm fine. let's just go back to practice."

his fists clench when he shoves the cake into his bag and walks back into the court. his blocks are futile when he thinks of your eyes. his serves hit the net when he thinks of the frown pasted on your lips. and he feels himself at the bottom of the game when another star dies.

he just doesn't know if it was his or yours. could a heart break two times?

🏐 –

tsukishima had a crisp trepidation towards the true veneer of love.

he believes he was too young for that, that he was in a stage where he would have this deep passion for things that were alive albeit something that he can't touch nor interconnect with– hense is unfathomable love for dinosaurs, stars, and strawberry shortcake.

so whatever it is that he was feeling for you – he doesn't know if it's love. tsukishima feels like he could die if he didn't see you for a single day; his feet and his body restless up until you both meet after practice.

tsukishima is even more restless now.

there wasn't a single text from you since 12:59 in the afternoon.

there was almost a hundred texts from tsukishima since 3:00pm, the time he had excused himself early from his practice.

he lays on his bed, his headphones on but no music. he wasn't in the mood to put himself up in brighter spirits. his back rests uncomfortably on the thick mattress, his curls splayed across his pillow, a hand on his chest and a hand holding a fork, his feet spread apart.

and the strawberry shortcake you gave him rests on his chest, half eaten, his mouth chewing sadly on the sweet delicacy.

"do you think stars have thoughts?" you asked. tsukishima found this beguiling and preposterous simultaneously, however the curiosity that happened to lift his lips into a dazed smile made him release a teasing retort:

"you certainly don't."

you threw a grape at him. he caught it with an open mouth. the sun was about to set, but the warmth was enough to prevent the both of you from shivering idiotically on the hill at the cold breeze. "i'm approaching an epiphany, asshole."

your vulgarity made him smile more. "celestial bodies, more specifically stars, do not have thoughts. but they're alive, and they function into a cycle."

"unorthodox minds like mine go out of the box," you rolled your eyes. "sorry, i'll put it in simpler terms so you could understand. i have a very creative mind."

"oh yeah?" tsukishima tilted his head sideways to present his interest. "and what'd you mean by that?"

"you know how stars die and create themselves?" you queried. "it's like how phoenixes rise from the ashes as they're reborn. but when a star resurrects, they're called "zombie stars," right?"

"yeah."

"and i'm not saying that they have a mind of their own, but if you were to input your own thoughts into a star, then yeah, it's like they resurrect themselves to live on with life over and over again, and don't you think that's exhausting? they're like dead stars, and they still shine brightly, and it's ironic, right? because something that has been dead billions of years ago still shine. it has a meaning into it that people just... completely ignore."

"so an analogy?" his eyebrow raised.

"yeah, something like that," you licked your lips. "when you see a bright star, and you don't know if it's a dead star. but imagine stargazing and finding love in something that has been dead long ago."

tsukishima's body softened. "uhuh."

"but what if you keep loving that star? and that star just receives so much of that love that they're able to resurrect themselves. well, obviously loving a star isn't actually gonna bring it back to life because there's a separate scientific explanation for that, but i'm saying that– that if you love something, or someone, hard enough that you're able to bring light into their lives, then that's possible.

and they take all that love for the benefit of their life and... they burst into something beautiful called supernovas."

tsukishima stared at you, his gaze ever so adoringly. "and what's the point of this epiphany of yours?"

"that loving someone that has been gone inside their body is possible to save them and bring them back to life to turn them into someone even more beautiful."

tsukishima sits back up, a whiplash from the quick commotion.

it was already night when his thin curtains were tainted black from the dark glow of the evening.

he pushes himself off his bed, slip his way out of his home and clumsily puts his shoes on to find you.

and he knows exactly where you are.

so it's no surprise when he sees you all alone, laying down on the meadow of the hill, blooming flowers grazing your cheeks in any way the wind blows. tsukishima stands and stares at you longingly, his fingers twitching beside him.

"(y/n)."

he says your name like an oath to the stars. you sit up, hearing his voice, cheeks dry with tears melting onto your skin. tsukishima's heart breaks the slightest when he brings himself up the hill.

"what are you doing here?" you ask him, voice so small he'd think you were whispering.

to his surprise, tsukishima falls onto his knees in front of you. he finds it endearing that despite the reduce of his height, you still look up at him. then he takes your hands into his, his thumbs tracing every ridge of your knuckles, looking deep into your eyes.

"i didn't mean what i said." he declares like he was under jurisdiction of the judge. "you are–... the most interesting woman in the world. the most beguiling, the most entrusting, the most beautiful."

your eyebrows furrow, hands shaking in his grasp. "what are you saying?"

"that i'm an asshole." he admits. "you are so interesting that every epiphany of yours pulls me back on the ground and into you. that epiphany you had about dead stars that resurrect themselves from getting so much love? shit, (y/n), that may be me."

you let out a tiny gasp, maybe a breath of reliefz his face is so close to yours, his knees in between your legs, bumping the side of your thighs. "what?"

"i–... i don't know if you love me. you don't have to. but you've made my days brighter and gave my life meaning that i felt like i was resurrected. like all the pieces in me were brought back together. and everything else just felt... alive."

finally, you smile. just a little, but it was enough to make the grass greener and the color of your shirt turn pastel, your eyes vibrant in the night. "yeah?"

"yeah," he laughs, idiotically he may add. "i like you. i like you so much. i like you more than i like dinosaurs."

you guffaw, throwing your head back, hands never letting go.

a star resurrects. a supernova explodes.

"i like you more," you say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

it was enough for him to jump on you to press his lips on your awaiting mouth, gently pressing you down on the grass, his hand on the back of your head to soften the blow as he settles himself in between your legs.

his mouth, sweet with strawberries and ardor, his hair soft like flowers when your fingers tangle on the golden locks, his glasses pressing against the space between your eyebrows and the bridge of your nose, his tongue that hovers respectfully on top of your bottom lip.

innocent, lips full of solicitude, he kisses you deeper and with care, his head tilting to open his mouth the slightest so that he could get closer to you. the small sound that emits from your mouth makes him pull back and smile shyly.

his eyes had the galaxies reflected off his eyes that it made space seem like they were golden from his irises. you take his glasses off, placing them beside you, and let your hands rest on his face; tucking his hair behind his ear as you do so.

and above your intertwined bodies, andromeda swims across the stygian night sky, traced by invisible strings. just as tsukishima predicted.

tsukishima could stare at you for the rest of his life.

tsukishima loved four things: dinosaurs, strawberry shortcake, stars, and most especially:

you.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

The Lost Boys (1987) dir. Joel Schumacher

Y/n: hey Peter, wanna hear a joke?

Peter 1: sure go ahead

y/n holding in their laugh: why is there only eleven months on your calendar?

Peter 1: I don’t know why?

Y/n: because you lost your may

Peter 3 coming in holding Peter as he cry: YOU CAN’T SAY THAT