If All You Did Today Was Get Through Today, It’s Good And It’s Enough.

ding!

. . . tsukishima kei. observant boyfriend things.

kei’s an observant person. he’s the type of person who knows there’s something wrong, even with the most subtle clues. it’s safe to say that there will never be a day where you successfully hide something from your boyfriend, not when he can read you like an open book in broad daylight.

“what’s with the sour look on your face?” he asks, though it’s quieter than he meant.

“nothing,” you reply with an uptight smile.

“you look constipated.”

“hey!”

he sighs. “how’d your volleyball tryout go?”

kei remembers a couple of nights ago when you told him that your school was holding tryouts for an upcoming sports week. he also remembers the time you told him that you used to play volleyball in middle school, and it didn’t take much to convince him that you were a decent middle blocker.

“i’m gonna die of embarrassment.”

“it didn’t go well, then,” he concluded with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“kei, i made a fool of myself!” you whine, letting him carry your bag. “my serves were sloppy, barely making it above the net—which was set too tall, by the way—my receives were lacking, and my blocks—they’re left unspoken of.”

“what’s wrong with your blocks?” kei asks you. “they were fine when you forced me to practice with you.”

“force is a strong word,” you counter, poking his arm with emphasis.

“i simply bribed you with snacks!”

“which i paid for.”

“and lots of kisses.”

“those are already a given in this relationship, idiot.”

“stop being mean, beanpole.”

“not my problem; i grew and you didn’t.”

you nudged at his side, earning a slight and playful groan from your boyfriend. “i am not that short! whatever, let’s just not talk about my blocks.”

“mm. let’s stop by a pharmacy, too.” he says, noticing how you fiddled with your bruised fingers. those were nasty for something as simple as volleyball tryouts. if anything, he would’ve assumed that you got them from an actual match against a prestigious school like shiratorizawa.

“yeah, it hurts,” you murmur.

“that’s because you're fiddling with them; quit it,” he scolds you with a sigh. “i’m sure you did well. if you could block those volleyball idiots’ quick, you already did well.”

“you know, kei, it’s nice when you care,” you smile.

“i always care.”

“and you always carry my bag as you should.”

“i care, y/n. i think you’re the one who needs glasses if you can’t see that.”

“oh, and when you’re attentive or observant too.”

“are you even listening?”

“nope, but i love you.”

“mm.”

“say it back! please! i know you care lots about me and i’m now listening, so say it back!”

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

ding!

. . . inarizaki second-year trio. convince, convince.

“um.” rintarou clears his throat, taking a deep breath.

atsumu and osamu nod in his direction as they warily glance at your mother, who looked at them with a neutral expression on her face.

“good morning, mrs. l/n.” he says, his usual composed exterior coming back to him. “today, we have prepared a powerpoint to convince you to let y/n tag along on our outing tomorrow morning.”

the presentation changes to the following slide. “why you should agree to let your child join our simple outing: a powerpoint presentation made by suna rintarou, miya atsumu and miya osamu.”

your mother smiles quite a bit, and rintarou takes this as a sign from those who heard his silent pleas the night before.

“one. it would help build social connections, specifically memories with friends.” silly pictures of the twins bickering and even ones where you’re included in the background at school are what’s displayed.

“two. it helps with stress.” the next slide has a huge picture of atsumu’s face being absolutely red from eating an extra spicy dish that you and osamu dared him to eat. “according to a few studies, the company of friends would lighten one’s mood and overall performance throughout the day.” wow, they even had it cited properly—in the format of a true professional presentation.

“three. please, mrs. l/n. i can’t handle another outing with the twins; my brain cells are dropping at an alarming rate whenever i’m around them.” he sighs playfully, shaking his head. “fortunately, your child carries most of the brain cells our friend group has.”

the twins stare at rintarou with disbelief. atsumu was about to retort something when osamu held him back. they had to act on their best behavior to win your mother’s favor, after all.

one mistimed step, and she’ll surely refuse.

“four. we’ll be sure to have them home before the sun sets.”

“five. if anything happens, we’ll have atsumu to blame.”

that caught atsumu by surprise. “huh? why me?” he practically yells at rintarou, though he manages to keep his voice down.

“because it was your idea to actually wear formal suits just to deliver this presentation,” he replies.

“hey! it adds flare, don’t it?” atsumu reasons. “ya would’ve worn somethin’ else that doesn’t look professional at all, suna!”

osamu sighs to himself. “keep it down, you shits.” he quickly covers his mouth, realizing his language in front of your mother. “i– i am sorry for my language, mrs. l/n. i swear– ‘m not always like this, swear. i’m not a bad influence on your child, promise.” he tries to reassure her.

the other two looked at you and then at your mother; they were silent.

you, on the other hand, were holding in your laughter. you honestly didn’t expect osamu to use such language in front of your not-so-impressed mother.

she pinches the bridge of her nose, a small smile on her lips. “there’s no need to apologize. i can tell that you and your friends really are persistent to have y/n join you, even going as far as wearing these presentable suits in this hot weather.” atsumu nudges rintarou with a look that says ‘see? it helped!’ “creating a powerpoint presentation and bringing a projector in our home—” rintarou had an eager glint in his eyes as he listened, “made an honest attempt in showing your best behavior in front of your friend’s mother,” osamu smiles sheepishly.

“i’m delighted to know that you are y/n’s friends. what you showed me convinced me well enough.” the three, along with you, cheer as she says this.

“you may have y/n join you three whenever or wherever you want, as long as you tell me or their father beforehand.”

rintarou nods. “thank you, mrs. l/n. fuck, we actually did it. it’s like when we did our thesis defense.”

“rintarou!” you chuckled, and the twins happily thanked your mother.

the three could definitely say they had a knack for convincing and really put in the effort on rare ocassions, especially when it came to you.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

Itadori looks like loaf of bread

yeonru's corner of the internet

personal account est. 2023 (@yeonruwu 's main acc)

hello everyone! sorry for the very late notice! you might've encountered this profile as "@/shinzotako", but there will be a lot of changes.

what happened to your anime edits? i just wanted to let you all know that i won't be posting any edits/layouts anymore here in this blog. i will also be archiving all my posts. if you follow me for the anime edits, layouts, aesthetics or any of the sort - feel free to unfollow now that i won't post stuff like that anymore. regardless, thank you for the hearts on my posts this past year.

current state of your acc? i have converted this into a personal acc hyperfixating on my current fandoms: hq, jjk, aot, tbhk, etc. this will be a reading account from now on. that's all, thank you! have a great day or night!

living life at your own pace isn’t a waste of time

ding!

. . . tsukishima kei. sweeter when i’m with you.

“did you even use a recipe—“

“yes, tsukishima. i did.” you answer.

continuing to apply frosting to your freshly baked cupcakes, you did your best to ignore the man in front of you. culinary class was fun, especially if your class was tasked with making a simple dessert for a graded activity. however, it was not that fun when you have a snarky middle blocker who always had a way to get through your nerves—watching you work throughout the process of creating such a sweet dessert.

even your sweet desserts would turn salty whenever he was around.

kei hums, amused by your response. “did you now?” he replies with that all-knowing smirk plastered on his stupidly good-looking face. “and what happened to calling me by my first name?”

“i changed my mind, that’s all.” you shrug, and he has the audacity to be the one frowning in this conversation. “it’s better to keep things professional, tsukishima. wouldn’t you agree?”

he huffs. “whatever,” he murmurs, propping his elbows on the counter, his head resting on his palm as he gazes up at you—just . . . admiring how you skillfully worked with the fluffy strawberry frosting—not that he’d ever admit it out loud, no way.

with the silence that followed, he quickly grew bored. “can i have some?” kei asks, eyes darting toward the strawberries you had cut specifically in the shape of little hearts for decorations.

“i don’t know, can you? what’s the magic word?”

“fuck you.”

“that’s not the magic word,” you coyly said to him. “i guess i’ll just give these extra strawberries to the volleyball team,” the thought wasn’t a bad one either, “maybe even have hinata or kageyama try these cupcakes i made once it’s graded.”

“no,” he says, slightly glaring at you.

now, it’s your turn to be amused. “no? did i hear that correctly, tsukishima?”

“it’s kei to you,” he corrects, softly this time. his expression was no longer stern, but this time, rather, it was one of slight annoyance and even pouting. “and . . . can i please have the extra strawberries?” he tries again, and for the first time in all the time you’ve known him, he looks at you with this soft, endearing look—as if he were some sort of kicked puppy by the street, begging to be adopted.

“see? it doesn’t kill you to be nicer to me,” you say, feeding him a strawberry or two—which he didn’t mind.

from the other stations, your classmates watched with either surprised or puzzled expressions after they’d witnessed your interaction with kei. even your teacher couldn’t help but ask, “are those two. . . ?” to which your classmates couldn’t answer either.

kei is definitely sweeter when he’s with you.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

ding!

. . . miya atsumu. may the world never crumble beneath your feet.

“what’s wrong with ya?”

there’s an unusual silence that follows atsumu’s simple question.

“hey?” he says again, a bit concerned now that you didn’t answer the first time. “what’s wrong? somethin’ on yer mind?”

still, nothing from you.

“hey, y/n.” he tries again, hoping that you will answer this time around. “is somethin’ botherin’ ya? tell me an’ i might be able to help.”

“i don’t know, ‘tsumu.” you confess, and he notices the way your hands tremble as you speak. “i really, really don’t know.”

without another word from atsumu, he engulfs you in a warm embrace. his hold on you is soft—delicate even. it’s times like these that you remember that atsumu wasn’t just that volleyball player who likes to annoy you once you step inside the gym; he wasn’t just the twin of his brother, but he was also his own person, and that person was your friend.

someone you can depend on.

someone you can show your vulnerability to.

someone who’d be there for you for anything.

“yer not alone, y/n. ya always seem ta forget that, but ‘ll always be here to remind you of that.” he coaxes.

that was all it took to have you sobbing in his arms, unable to contain the overwhelming emotions that you had bottled up for who knows how long.

atsumu’s honest attempt to comfort you in the best way he could, the way he knows how. it was hard for him to even see you like this. he may seem like the type to not care for others feelings, but he does; he cares, especially for those who he loves.

“i’m scared.” you confess. “i’m scared of the future, ‘tsumu.”

he listens carefully as you speak your truth. “it’s ok ta be scared, y/n.” he replies as he holds you closer to him. “the uncertain’y of what the future has in store for us may be a bit intimidatin’, but we’ll always have each other, right?”

he says this with a smile. “and we’ll take baby steps, remember? that’s what ya always told me,” he says this happily. “baby steps, an’ we’ll eventually get there.”

you quiet down a bit upon hearing atsumu’s reassuring words. you never pegged him as the type to be able to pull off such a thing, and yet you were internally grateful to be here right now, in his arms, as your sobs soon turned into soft, quiet sniffles.

as atsumu holds you in his arms, he hums a soft tune, noticing that you were calming down. he hopes and prays to the gods out there that may the world never crumble beneath your feet.

but when it does, atsumu will always be by your side.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

for a while my question was “how does bokuto have both big brother and little brother energy at the same time” and i think i know the answer. he’s a youngest sibling but he’s also the cool older cousin at every family function that let you play on his phone and taught you how to do a cartwheel and made a competition out of making faces at each other behind the adults’ backs whenever conversation at the table got boring

thinking v hard abt matsuhana the past few days ;____________;;///

Away from Home ft. Wakatoshi Ushijima

an angst scenario in which ushijima notices his partner is homesick.

920 words, angst scenario, gn! reader

Warnings: homesick reader

Wakatoshi knew.

He always knows. 

Sometimes it’s easy for you to forget how observant Ushijima truly is because he’s always silent about it. Most of his observations go unsaid. Like how he noticed the way you always hum to yourself when you’re in a good mood or the way your hair feels the softest the day after it’s been washed. He sees and makes note of almost everything going on around him. 

And most of the time he’s content with keeping his observations to himself. But not this time.

Ushijima began to worry about your wellbeing when he noticed small changes in your daily habitual actions. 

It was the slightest quiver in your bottom lip and the way you leaned into him, subconsciously looking for support, as your parents spoke to you over the phone detailing upcoming house renovations and updates on the state of your favorite lilac bushes that were currently blossoming.

It was the small sigh you let out after hanging up the phone and the way your shoulders were tense as you lay your head on his shoulder and sit in comfortable silence after the interaction on the phone.

It was the way your gaze lingered on the photos your mom sent showing the hummingbird feeders, and the way you passed the phone to him to give him a chance to see.

He had taken note of all of these things, but it was today that he finally knew what was the cause of your behaviors. 

It was the forced smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes when your parents asked you how you were doing during your call with them today that gave it away.

You were homesick.

But "homesick" don't seem to describe the extent of your feelings, he thought to himself. 

It was when you rose from your spot next to him after the call to go sit on the balcony that he became aware of the depth of your hidden feelings.

Earlier that month, you dragged your favorite chair out onto the balcony and would spend hours on end sitting out there. It was so that you could "feel the sky" you had told him when he'd asked why you had been spending so much time out there. Sometimes, you'd be out on the balcony, sketching the cityscape, and you'd show him the work when you'd completed them. But what he didn’t know was that in addition to the drawings he'd see, you’d also spend hours sketching your homeland from memory in attempt to regain connection to your home.

But he still knew you were longing for the fresh open air and the endless sky that you had grown up with even in your attempts to hide it from him. You couldn't escape the longing you felt for the place and people you loved so much.

Ushijima knew that you weren’t truly happy with him in the city, even though you loved him and would give anything for him. He thought about everything you’d done to ensure that he was able to follow his passion, from making him special lunches that worked within his diet, to spending endless nights sleeping alone when he was away. 

And, when reflecting on all he'd observed throughout the years of what you had done for him, Ushijima was overcome with an intense feeling of gratefulness. But at the same time, he felt a pull at his heart. He recognized the feeling as deep sadness. What if you had given up the life you truly wanted. For him. 

He feared that the most: that he couldn’t give you the life that you truly deserved and longed for. 

With him you could never be completely happy.

He knew he had to talk to you about it, so he waited for you to come back inside. It was not too long when you returned from the balcony.

“Darling,” he called out to you softly.

As he laid eyes on you, he noted that your face hid the sadness it once held. Your normal resting expression had returned. Not a trace of longing remained, he noted.

“What is it, Toshi?”

All of a sudden, all words left him, and he felt at a complete loss for expression of speech. He didn’t know how to raise the subject to you.

Should he begin to extend the immense gratitude he felt towards you? No. Surely you would suspect that he knew something was wrong. Should he just be honest and tell you that he knew you weren’t happy?

Seeing you standing there in front of him, he thought he couldn’t possibly.

And with that, he made his decision to let it go, like he had done many times before with other things. 

”Oh, I was just wondering what we’re having for dinner.”

You blinked, and he held his breath. Then, to both his relief and dismay, you smiled at him in your usual manner and began to list off the options for your evening meal as you move to sit beside him.

Little did you know, your words were falling on unwilling ears as Ushijima was too distracted by the encounter to be paying attention to you.

Weighing his decision to keep quiet, he thought that maybe it was better for you if you didn’t know that he knew what you were feeling.

At least that’s what he told himself to justify keeping quiet about the fact that he was noticing the lightness leaving your eyes, slowly, slightly, one day at a time.

haha maybe college changed me because I never thought I would be capable of writing angst. Sorry, I'm a little out of practice with writing fics, but I hope you liked it, but if angst isn't your cup of tea, don't worry, more fluff will be coming soon :)

Feel free to reblog if you liked it! :)

p.s. I missed you all and writing so much! if you're reading this, thank you for sticking around, and being patient with me when I took my massive hiatus as I adjusted to college life. <3