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#constellations fic
cloud-somersault · 2 days
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shadowpeach makeouts? yeah. yeah. okay. this is so old LMFAO i've been chipping away at it but i don't know if i'll ever finish
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fluffypotatey · 7 months
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afternoon my lovelies 💕
i have been recently informed that there hasn’t been much talk on this hellsite about @cloud-somersault’s fic The Constellations Within Us, and so I thought: what better way to begin than to show y’all some key highlights for each chapter so far that emotionally wrecked me or had me going feral :3
All of the energy leaves MK like he's a deflated balloon. He sighs dejectedly, but keeps eye contact, resolute. The kid’s resolve is admirable. "Yeah, but if…something does happen, would you let me know? Would you ask for help?"
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Shoutout to being irresponsible! Can I get a HELL YEAH?" Party MK screams into his microphone. (<- ok this didn’t wreck me it make me feral but I did laugh very loud sooooooo)
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Macaque leans close into Wukong’s personal space, eyes never leaving his. “Is that what you think? Is it tearing you up inside?" Wukong stays silent. He doesn’t want to give Macaque the satisfaction, but…he’s always been good at reading people and that goes quadruple for Wukong. A smirk of gratification sweeps across Macaque’s expression, but there’s hurt, too, no longer hidden behind pretense. But not even that would prevent him from getting the last word in. He whispers menacingly in Wukong's ear. "Good." (<- yes i DID scream. very loud and squeaky.)
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“It is through compassion that you all are here on this journey with me. You were given a second chance by the goddess.” Tripitaka gave each of them a hard look, but when his eyes focused on Wukong, his expression was full of disappointment. “Everyone has the capacity to change, Monkey. Most just need compassion…and a chance.”
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Taking a seat beside Wukong, which is a surprise in and of itself, Macaque stares at him apathetically. “That was the old me. I'm new and improved.” “Debatable.” An icy grin slowly spreads across Macaque's face. “Murderers don't get a say.” (<-*ungodly screeches*)
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“Yeah, uh, didn’t this guy…like, level mountains or something?” Marble Rose whispers to Marble Gloss, who nods. “I heard he carried two mountains on his shoulders once.” “It was three, actually,” Wukong interjects, holding up three fingers.
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And once they're caught in Wukong’s grip, he grins.Up they go, higher than the clouds themselves and into the heavens, and then, with a cackle he knowshe shouldn’t give, they come tumbling back down to the world below, slamming into the stone structures of the forest with a resounding boom. An earthquake follows, rippling throughout the world in aftershocks and disgruntled shakes, but Wukong repeats the action again and again, eyes searingly bright, mouth pulled back in an eternal grimace. Pain and punishment is what they deserve, it was what he was given!
and i should probably stop before I show anything that spoils the story, so go ahead and read it because omfg it’s so good 😍😍😍😍
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clubkira · 6 months
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DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND .ᐟ
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oh future husband, better love me right!
premise. the nhk gives it’s viewers a peak into the love lives of the jnt’s lineup, interviewing the future wives of the jnt to crack the secret to a happy relationship ❤︎
content. haikyu!! jnt / f!reader. (atsumu miya, rintarou suna, wakatoshi ushijima & shoyo hinata). fluff. somewhat decent relationship advice. downbad fiancés. healthy relationships(!!). suggestive moments. petnames.
soundtrack. dear future husband : meghan trainor.
part two can be read here.
dear future husband m.list. // hq. masterlist.
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ATSUMU MIYA.
“after every fight, just apologize.”
“Relationship advice?” You repeat, sitting across from the NHK interviewer, mic strapped to your shirt as a camera filmed your living room. She nods, smiling while holding a microphone of her own.
“Yes! Tell us, what is the secret to a healthy relationship?”
You tilt your head, “Well, I guess I have some advice to give.” Your fingers drum against the armrest of your couch as you sit in thought, contemplating on what to tell the reporter, “hmm..”
Atsumu sitting beside you laughs, his arm slung comfortably over your shoulder, “I have some advice I’d like to give as well.”
You turn to him with a grimace. “I don’t want any young viewers following whatever is about to come out of your mouth, ‘Tsumu.”
He looks at you offended; reeling his arm back to his side, shock spelled out all over his face. “Excuse me, I’m great at romance. I romanced you, didn’t I?”
“Unfortunately,” you jest, with Atsumu exclaiming in protest, “But this isn’t just about romancing someone, ‘Tsumu. They’re asking what makes a relationship a healthy one.”
“So?” He shrugs, “A healthy relationship is one that’s full of romance.”
“I apologize for him,” you playfully tell the interviewer, ignoring the look Atsumu gives you in response, “He’s not the best at this sorta stuff.”
She merely giggles, “No worries, the players are allowed to give their own opinions as well.” Atsumu puffs his chest out, “See, babe? She said I can talk too.”
“Yeah well, just make sure to cut out whatever he says in the final broadcast,” She lets out a snort at your jab, hiding the smile that creeps onto her face behind her microphone while Atsumu shoves your shoulder in despair.
“Awe, c’mon! I’m not that bad with relationship advice!” He pouts at you, looking like a kicked puppy when he does so, “What makes you think I’m so bad at this, do you actually want to marry me, babe?”
Your eyes soften at his saddened tone, feeling slightly guilty you link your fingers with his, eyes full of love when he smiles down at your intertwined hands.
“Of course I do, ‘Tsumu.”
The camera crew awes as you turn back to face the cameras, still holding Atsumu’s hand firmly in your own, running your thumb over the smooth cut diamond ring studded band he wears on his ring finger.
“The advice I have to give viewers is; Apologize when you are wrong,” you tell the interviewer, “No matter your pride, no amount will replace your relationship. It’s never worth sacrificing your loved one just for the sake of winning an argument.”
“Uh huh, you’re one to talk about that, babe,” Atsumu rolls his neck, “You never apologize first, it’s always me who has to for you to talk to me again.”
“What are you talking about?” You look at him confused, “I’m the one who initiates the apology conversations, you’re the stubborn one out of us.”
“Nuh-uh.”
You groan, “Exactly.”
Atsumu pulls his hand out of yours, placing it on your thigh instead before facing the cameras. “But, she is right. Do not ever choose a winning an argument over your partner. It ends badly.”
“You would know,” you snort, “You give me the longest silent treatments until I coax you out of it with kisses.”
“Can we cut that out of the broadcast, please?”
You purse your lips to hide the oncoming smile until Atsumu leans forward, a handsome grin on his face as he looks directly into the rolling cameras with a newfound confidence.
“But, y’know. I do always apologize in the end, ‘cause my girl’s never wrong.”
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RINTAROU SUNA.
“make time for her.”
“You see this girl?” Suna jabs a thumb in your direction from across the kitchen, leaning against the marble island lazily as the camera team nods. “Yeah, she gets constipated if I don’t give her enough attention.”
Your head perks up immediately as you shoot him a halfhearted glare, “Do not.”
“See, she’s doing it right now.” He ignores, drinking from his glass of water before setting it down on the counter, ignoring the little gasp you let out at his actions.
Rolling your eyes, you smack his arm before sliding a coaster under his drink, “Don’t scratch the marble, Rinnie. I just bought this island.”
The camera team silently giggles at the short interactions between you two, with Suna sticking his tongue out at you and in response you give him a middle finger before he turns back to face them, “Can you believe her?”
Scoffing, you enter the camera frame beside him, “Don’t bring them into this, Rinnie.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I’m your fiancée.”
Suna opens his mouth to argue before shutting it promptly, “Good point.”
One of the crew members holds a sign from behind the cameras, indicating to get the interview back on topic. “Why would you ever ask her for relationship advice?” Suna chuckles, “I was the one who made the first move.”
“The interview is for the fiancée’s of the JNT, Mr. Suna,” the interviewer reminds him, “But the players are welcome to voice their own opinions as well.”
Suna stretches his arm behind his back with a yawn, a sliver of his abdomen peeking out from underneath his home shirt before disappearing quickly, “Well in that case, allow me to voice this opinion—”
You slap a hand over his mouth before he can begin, “Nope, didn’t you hear them? This is my interview, Rinnie.”
“Buhf dey shaid I can shpeak too, affhole." Suna glares from behind your hand, removing it from his mouth with a groan. “Did you even wash your hand? Tastes gross.”
“Why did you lick my hand?”
“We’ve done freakier things than that and that’s what you’re worried about?”
Your words get lodged in your throat, sputtering out hurriedly, “This is going on T.V, Rinnie!”
He looks to you with a smug smile, “Yeah, and I can’t wait to rewatch this interview and see your reaction again later.”
Your fists clench momentarily before taking a deep breath, relaxing yourself and facing the cameras with a smile. “Anyways, some relationship advice I’d give to anyone watching; make time for your spouse.”
Suna nods along to your words, “Mhm, I think that’s the most important thing in a relationship.”
“Shut up, Rinnie.”
“Ouch,” he fakes a stab through his heart, monotonous eyes but a playful grin on his lips. “I talk for two seconds and you tell your dear fiancé to shut up?”
You shake your head towards him jokingly, continuing to talk to the interviewer, “A healthy relationship means you spend time with your loved ones, and your spouse should be the most loved person in your life.”
The reporter nods, “I see, I see, what do you suggest to our viewers the best ways to spend quality time with their lover?”
“In bed.” Suna chimes in immediately, earning another smack on the shoulder from you. “What?” He looks at you with a knowing grin, “Oh, you— I didn’t mean like that, oh my god you’re sooo dirty minded.”
He chuckles, “I meant like cuddling, laying in bed together, watching movies. Y’know, wholesome things.”
“Nothing is wholesome with you,” you exasperate, speaking from personal experience. “But yes, those are great ways to spend times with your lover. They’re good times to bond with them, or just relax and unwind after a long day.”
“Yeah, after a gruelling day of practice, it’s nice to come home and lay in her arms,” Suna motions to you before leaning his head on your shoulder, his grin now replaced with a small but gentle smile. “She’s all I want to see after practice.”
“Wow,” you tease, leaning your head atop his, “and where did you learn to be so smooth, hm? Are you just playing it up for the cameras, Rinnie?”
Suna snickers, hands crossed over his chest relaxed, “I would never,” he says before mumbling close to your ear.
“I just, really like to spend time with you.”
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WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA.
“treat her like a lady.”
“My fiancé is out right now at the gym,” you inform the NHK station crew, their camera men follow you inside your house for the opening shots of the broadcast. “Make yourselves comfortable while you wait.”
The interviewer settles himself on a seat at your dining table as you reach for the vase of flowers atop, moving into the kitchen to pour the old water out of their vase, careful to not spill any over your kitchen counter as you refill the container with fresh water from your tap.
Refreshing the water, you carefully place the flowers back into their vase before rearranging them neatly, coming back out of the kitchen to place them back on your table and adjusting them accordingly as the interviewer watches amazed.
“Those flowers are very lovely,” he notes softly, almost as if any louder of a volume would disturb the plants, “Did you fiancé happen to get them for you?”
You smile, “yes, he did,” recalling the first time he got you a bouquet, on your first date many years ago.
“‘Toshi knows I love flowers.”
The soft click of the lock to your house causes you to perk your head up in familiarity, the frame of your fiancé’s figure coming into view as you see him placing his shoes down beside your door before coming inside.
“Welcome home, dear,” you call out to him from the kitchen, one of the camera crew’s members break off to film your fiancé as he enters the home. He drops his gym bag to the floor beside your couch, removing his jacket and hanging it on your coatrack before passing through the halls of your shared home to get to you.
Ushijima shuffles his way into the kitchen, passing by the camera crew and approaching you from behind, hugging you as his hands are wrap around your stomach, head dropping into the crook of your shoulder.
You lean into his touch, his freshly showered hair smells of the shampoo the two of you use.
“Are you showing them the flowers I got you?” He asks, eying the pretty arrangement of flowers on the table. The cameras zoom in to take a closer shot at the flowers, noting the vibrancy of the colours and the lack of thorns adorning the stems.
You and the reporter nod, Ushijima lets a small smile settle on his face. “She told me they were her favourites,” he tells the reporter.
“Hm,” he hums before turning to you, microphone extending outwards. “is that your relationship advice for the viewers then? Giving your loved one gifts?”
You shake your head quickly, “Oh, no! No, that’s not my advice— Of course, do get your partner gifts if you know they’ll enjoy them.” Ushijima straightens up, hands snaking around your waist to stand beside you as the cameras pan out to record the both of you in the same shot.
“‘Toshi just really likes to get me little things,” you smile, reminicing on all the times your eyes barely glazed over something in a store front before he was scrambling inside the shop to buy it for you, despite your pleas.
“But gifts do not have to be expensive,” You reassure the viewers again, “just little trinkets that remind you of your partner will be enough.”
Ushijima nods before lifting your hand up to the camera, showing off the engagement ring with a large diamond displayed proudly atop it. “Yes, but I do like to splurge when it comes to her.”
You retract your hand quickly, warily eying your fiancé, “‘Toshi! Don’t make the viewers think they need to buy people’s happiness with expensive gifts!”
His head tilts unsurely, “My love, do you not like the ring I got you?”
“I-I do! When did I ever say I didn’t?”
His eyes crinkle slightly in concern, “Then why are you hiding our engagement ring from the viewers?”
“Because,” you sigh, “I don’t want young, inexperienced lovers to think they need something like a huge, flashy engagement ring to be loved by someone.”
“But you deserve the best,” he rebuffs, “There is nothing I wouldn’t buy for you if you asked.”
“‘Toshi.. this isn’t really helping our case…”
The reporter turns to Ushijima, “Even though this is a special for the JNT fiancées, the players are allowed to give their own insight.” He informs your soon-to-be husband, “Do you have anything else to add for our viewers?”
Ushijima thinks for a moment, silent in thought as you look to your fiancé, and the sight of his matching engagement ring twinkling under the bright studio lights filling your home catches your eye all too quickly.
“Do you have anything you want to say, ‘Toshi?” You nudge his shoulder slightly when he continues to remain quiet, an encouraging smile on your lips.
He nods, bringing the hand with your ring on it before giving the intricately cut diamond a kiss, his piercing eyes gazing deep into yours, causing your face to heat up fervently at his wolfish grin.
“Treat your partner the best that you can, like the lady she is and deserves to be treated as.”
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SHOYO HINATA.
“don’t forget your anniversaries!”
Shoyo’s leg bounces feverishly as the reporter speaks to you casually, unable to contain his excitement at being asked to join you for this broadcasted interview special.
His grin is wide, beaming whenever you sneak small glances at him whenever the reporter looks down at their cue cards of start up questions to ease into the conversation, before the real topic is brought up.
“Do you have any relationship advice for our viewers?”
You’re about to speak until Shoyo interrupts you, quite literally flying out of his seat while brightly smiling as his hand grasps yours with a tight grip, “I do, I do!”
The reporter chortles, smiling at his tactics, “Thank you, Mr. Hinata. But this interview is specifically for your fiancée.” Shoyo’s face sullens lightly until he speaks again, “But you’re allowed to give your own thoughts when she’s done.”
Shoyo slumps back into his seat dejectedly as you rub his back comfortingly, “Sorry, Sho. But just let me speak first, okay?” His pout is replaced instantaneously at your words with the usual smile he holds when around you, “Alright, baby!”
You look towards the reporter, hand still clasped in Shoyo’s securely. “Here is my advice for a healthy relationship; Don’t forget your anniversaries.”
Your fiancé’s mouth hangs open in shock at your words, head whipping to face you with a hearty laugh, “That’s what I was going to say!”
The look of shock that spreads across your face amuses him, staring at you expectantly for a few moments before you too erupt into laughter, shoulders shaking in surprise as the two of you cling to each other for support, with Shoyo nearly falling off the couch with how hard he cackles.
He clings onto your shoulder to stop himself from tumbling, which in turn causes you to laugh harder as you try to pull him back up as Shoyo calls out for you to ‘save him’.
“Baby, I’m falling!” Shoyo shrieks while howling with laughter, “Grab my hand!”
“You’re already grabbing my hand, Sho!”
Cameras stationed around your living room pan to zoom in on Shoyo’s joyful face when he fools around with you, the grip he still holds on your hand as clear as day as you jokingly attempt to rescue his bumbling self.
The out of frame reporter looks to the two of you happily, the fact that you both seem so absorbed in each other and have forgotten about the interview portion of the broadcast is surprisingly heartwarming for both the crew and the viewers watching the broadcast.
Once the two of you manage to calm down, you shyly look back to the NHK crew with a timid smile.
“Sorry,” you apologize to your interviewer, coughing as you try to hold back another bout of laughter when you catch Shoyo smiling at you again, attempting to contain his giggles. “We got a little- uhm, carried away.”
“It’s no problem,” the reporter chuckles, “I can see the two of you are very much in love, so is that the advice you wish to tell our viewers on how your relationship with each other is so healthy?”
You and Shoyo nod simultaneously, “Yeah, don’t you ever forget your partner’s anniversaries!!” Shoyo sternly but playfully warns the viewers, “I’m serious, guys! Anniversaries are important!”
“What anniversaries should our viewers be aware of when it comes to their lovers?”
This time you speak up, “Well, the major and most well known ones of course,” you begin, listing off the ones you can recall at the moment.
“For example; first month together, first year spent as a couple, birthdays could also count I suppose—”
“Did you know I proposed to her on our fifth anniversary?” Shoyo interrupts excitedly, the same happy and bright smile on his face shining when he proudly pulls up his hand to show off the ring on his finger, “I was so caught up in the moment, I forgot to put the ring on her finger after she accepted!”
Recalling that memory brings warmth to your cheeks, “Yeah, he literally forgot about the ring in the box until I asked him about it later.”
“But in any case,” you circle back to original topic at hand, noticing the way Shoyo’s smile dampens a little when you switch back so quickly as you shoot him an apologetic smile, you don’t want to waste the reporter’s and NHK crew’s time any longer.
“Don’t forget your anniversaries, people! They’re a big deal for a ton of lovers!”
“Th-that’s right!” Shoyo piggybacks off your response, “And if you do forget, you better apologize a lot!”
The reporter nods, turning their attention to your fiancé. “And do you have any final thoughts for our viewers on how you maintain a healthy relationship with your fiancée, Mr. Hinata?”
Shoyo smiles deviously at the open ended question he’s been dying to answer this whole time; his hand creeping teasingly up your thigh to the small of your back as he leans in real close to you with a knowing wink, the flushed expression displayed on your face at his actions encourages him even more to continue.
His eyes glint with amusement, the mischievous grin on his lips is firm even in front of several strangers and cameras rolling in real time, footage of his behaviour being broadcasted to the entirety of Japan this very second.
And without shame or guilt, Shoyo smirks.
“Make your anniversary nights real special for her, trust me on that one.”
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reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
© property of shoyostar / thomae 2023. all rights reserved.
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wilyzombie · 4 months
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Violet intent spirals in Macaque’s eyes and consumes the pale gold of the moon. He grins, sharp fangs poking his bottom lip as he stares at Wukong with this…captivation that doesn’t feel quite right.
“Yes,” Macaque whispers, that same claw scratching Wukong’s chin before moving lower. He wraps his right hand around Wukong’s throat and grips it firmly. “Because the only one allowed to torment you and make your life a living hell is me.”
Fan art for "Constellations Within Us" by @cloud-somersault
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Day 30 of No One Except @mr-orion Asked November (NoOneExOriAskNov).
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Final day y’all! I made it! To celebrate, today’s is @applestruda’s DTIYS, and also my first ever DTIYS! A sleepy pile of dear Boatem folks. No color, of course, because color is terrifying, and on paper, because I still cannot do digital art quickly for the life of my poor index finger. I’d like to think that this dog pile takes place after the events of Give me back my heart you wingless thing, mostly because they deserve it, and also because I only have my Horizons au designs to work with… Nevertheless, they’re having a good time and that’s the important part.
To @demonsteapot and @donutinsideofashark, thanks for going through this month of nonsense with me. And to @mr-orion again, thanks for creating a very funny challenge title and motivating me to keep up the depletion of my 0.5 mm lead stash.
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yendts · 3 months
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absolutely obsessed with @rewritingcanon ‘s fic Magic Hour and had to make some art for it ✨
please go check it out you will not regret it:
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hasturlover · 10 months
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AND WHAT IF I CRIED
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Context: Draco and Harry searching Sirius' potrait in Grimmauld Place. But instead of Sirius', Draco found Regulus' potrait and awakened him from slumber. And when Harry returned to Draco after searching the loft, Regulus' potrait smiles and mistaking Harry as James.
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the-cypress-grove · 2 months
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Prompt: 215
They were doomed from the very beginning. He was a bright star, a glittering jewel, and she was the the darkness that would inevitably swallow him whole. The true tragedy was that they both knew this. They knew, and allowed themselves to collide regardless.
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simons-purplehoodie · 3 months
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Constellations of Love
Summary
There are many words Simon would use to describe Wilhelm. “Arrogant,” “spoiled,” and “a prissy prince” to name a few. Likewise, Wilhelm thinks he has Simon accurately labeled as an attention-seeking asshat who never shuts his loud mouth. Their disdain for each other seems to know no bounds, until the two wake up in one bed after a house party which causes a surge in their friends’ pre-existing notion that Simon and Wilhelm’s hatred for each other is just poorly veiled lust.
Eventually it all becomes too much for either of them to handle, leading to Simon and Wilhelm agreeing to fake date long enough to end their “relationship” in a massive staged fight which will finally get their friends off of their backs once and for all. But the more time they spend together, the more their plan begins to fall apart, and they realize that falling for your enemy isn’t as impossible as it seems.
TLDR: An enemies to lovers & fake dating story, with focuses on Simon’s struggle to keep his family afloat despite his father’s abuse and addiction, and Wille’s trauma and anxiety from childhood to adulthood, heavily based on the book “They Hate Each Other” by Amanda Woody
Click here to read chapter 1
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easton-creations · 12 days
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Word count : 10397 (so far)
Unchained Constellations
Sirius gets why, he wasn’t the best kid by all means. He yelled back, he lied, he didn’t do his homework, he was a rebel. So truly he gets it when he gets pulled out of school by a bunch of cops, and he understands why when they tell him he’s not going to live at his own home anymore. Of course his parents would send him away, it makes sense, he truly honestly gets why.
In which Sirius gets taken into foster care and blames himself, and Remus makes him fall in love.
Ahhhh it’s coming guys. Keep me motivated 😭🙏🏻
This is definitely no where near done but it’s a huge milestone to get to this point! Let me know if you guys are even interested in this😂
It’s gonna be over double at the end point (I’m aiming for like 100 ish pages)
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persphonesorchid · 1 year
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Constellations Of You - JHS
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Summary: A new chapter of Him and You begins. He’s waited a long time for this, for the mornings where he could wake next to you in a house you’d both made a home of.
Genre: Est. Relationship, Fluff, smut (minors begone)
WC: 3.3k
Warnings: Soft Dom Hoseok, he's a little bit mean. Unprotected sex, lots of pet names, uh Hobi puts his thumb in Mc's mouth at one point, hand on throat but not actually choking. Hoseok is soft as hell for MC and I'm gonna marry him or some shit.
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Notes: Happy birthday to my man Hobi. Genuinely hope he's having a great day. Also I wrapped this fic up at like 2am this morning so if you see any mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me!
Check out my other works- HERE
If you enjoy my content, please consider donating- Here
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It’s cold, and somewhere on the cusp of sleep and wakefulness, Hoseok shifts closer to you out of habit. The arm he throws over you meets the chill of the air too soon, and he lifts his head away from where it’s tucked against your neck. Sleepily, he squints against the light of the rising sun, it’s not quite there, but it’s peaking through the crack in the curtains and annoyingly, right in his eyes.
Shifting a bit more, Hoseok realizes that it’s cold where his hand is because you’ve kicked the sheets away from you at some point. Though he could see the furrow of your brows and the telling curl of your spine against his front, where you’d drawn your knees up and close to your chest.
Sighing, Hoseok sits up, yawning as he tries to pull the covers from where it’s tangled at his legs and somewhere – somehow – under you. Successful, he fixes the covers over you and sinks back into the warmth of it when you relax.
You murmur something that sounds like his name, rolling over and tucking yourself against him. Your feet are cold against his shins, but Hoseok doesn’t mind too much despite the quiet swear he lets out.
He’s awake enough now, to stare at the bare wall on the other side of the room. There’s two rolls of wallpaper leaning in a corner because you’d decided against painting, boxes stacked on top of each other because you’d both done everything but unpack them yesterday.
There’s still a lot to do, but Hoseok would like to wait until the sky is blue and he’s not as tired.
“What time is it?” you ask, lips brushing against his collarbone. He slips his hand under the oversized jersey you wore, pressing his fingers into the warmth of your skin.
“Too early,” Hoseok sighs, “go back to sleep.” He hikes his leg over your hip as you get comfortable. Just as he settles, eyes drifting closed again, you call his name and he answers with a hum that rumbles in his chest.
“When does the furniture get here?” Your voice is quiet, and Hoseok knows you’re already on your way back to sleep. He is too, and his answer is equally quiet.
“’Round eight...”
When Hoseok wakes again, you’re gone and he’s hugging the covers. There’s a clang from somewhere down the hall and a soft swear that follows. Rubbing at his eyes, Hoseok sits up, scooting to the edge of the bed to swing his legs over the side.
He walks out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen where you stand facing away from him. There’s a soft popping of eggs in the frying pan, bacon set aside on a napkin covered plate and the electric kettle is whistling. He knows better than to sneak up on you while you’re over the stovetop, so he waits until you’ve set the spatula aside.
Walking over, he wraps his arms around your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder to peer into the frying pan. You startle still, giggling, you lightly pat his arm, “You scared me.”
Hoseok places a gentle kiss on your neck in apology, “Thought you heard me.”
“S’okay,”
Hoseok sways you gently in place, forehead against the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. He’s content to just stand there, and if time freezes around him, he wouldn’t notice nor would it matter. In this moment where it’s just you and him and nothing can separate you both.
He’s waited a long time for this, for the mornings where he could wake next to you in a house you’d both made a home of. Even though, right now, it’s barely anything, a house full of your presence but lacking in memories. Something that will build in time. The space in which you’d share your highs and lows, when days would blend together on repeat and he’d lose track of them.
Hoseok could spend forever here, wrapped tightly in the little bubble of comfort. Where the scent of your coconut shampoo invades his senses and the warmth of you is a welcome sensation. He inhales softly, nose against your hair and presses a kiss where his lips could reach.
“I can’t do anything if you’re glued to me, Jay.” You chuckle, wiggling against him like a worm caught, but you don’t push him away. You turn the heat of the stove off with a quick movement of your fingers. You shift to the left and he moves with you, unwilling to separate by even a few inches. “Hoseok.”
Hoseok ignores the whine of his name, “Just pretend I’m not here.” He tightens his hold, only releasing when you whine louder.
Chuckling, he shuffles over to the kettle that’s long turned off, steam rising out of the pointed lip. The mugs you’d used last night were the only two in the cupboard overhead, and a half empty packet of instant coffee tucked into the corner. “Coffee or tea, babe?”
You look over at him, from where you’ve started cutting into an avocado. “Is the tea in the cupboard?”
Hoseok shakes his head, eyes darting to the boxes tucked in the far corner near the fridge behind you. “It's in there somewhere, I think.”
The face you make has him chuckling; he doesn’t want to go digging through the boxes anyway. He takes the mugs down, letting the dark grains of coffee roll on into them in even share. He pours less water in your mug, knowing that you’d put milk because there’s no creamer. Carefully, he takes the mugs over to the table and sets them down, the table that has two more chairs than needed but would be filled someday – one day.
You smile as you set the plates down, fingers reaching to dance at the back of his neck. Hoseok watches as you pour milk into your mug before you stick it into the microwave to bring back the heat it’s lost.
“What do we have to do today...besides unpacking everything?” Hoseok asks once you’ve settled opposite him, picking at the crust of his buttered toast.
You hum, “Grocery, and we have to replace the plates that broke yesterday. And the furniture’s supposed to be here soon.”
Nodding, you’d both spend the next ten minutes not doing much talking, mouths being busy otherwise. When finished, Hoseok does the clean up while you shower, and busies himself with unpacking the dishes. By the time you’re out, the mover’s truck is parked outside and for the next hour and a half, you and Hoseok decide how and where everything would go.
Distracted, for moments where you’d talk from different sides of the room, or doing silly dances to the hip-hop tracks coming from the stereo. And Hoseok, was more specifically distracted by you struggling to drag a large bag of drapes into the room from the hallway. You laugh as you stumble, deciding to stop and push instead of pull, the soft light from the sun coming in through the windows glows against the backdrop of your form.
“What color should we go with?” You ask, hands on your hips as you stare down into the open bag.
Long before, a good four or so years ago, Hoseok never had to worry about the ‘we’. He didn’t have to measure his actions to suit the cause and effect of another person, free to be who he was in all his lonesome. When he’d work and return to his apartment that was solely his. His own space in which he was content, where he’d cook only for himself, or didn’t have to worry when he left the toilet seat up in his half awake state.
When the framed pictures on his walls were of him and his friends, treasured moments that belonged only to them. Then, you came and that had to change, I became Us – a unit that took time to build upon and get used to. Suddenly, he wasn’t cooking for himself anymore, and he would put the toilet seat back down no matter how sleepy he was. The framed pictures on the walls never changed, only new ones were added, treasured memories that belonged only to you and him.
It wasn’t all easy, no relationship ever is. There were ups and downs, arguments where you’d both said things you hadn’t meant when anger and frustration persisted. Moments when it was better to just give each other space to cool off, and all would be forgiven after a long talk.
And there were moments where Hoseok felt like he was floating somewhere above the clouds. So high up, tethered to earth by a string that wound itself around your wrist. Sometimes he worried, in late nights after a particularly bad fight and too much whisky, that you’d cut him loose one day and he’d come crashing down like a comet. You never did, though, you’d only hold tighter to the string that kept you both.
Hoseok walks over to you, you’re digging through the bag, pulling out different shades of lighter curtains to get to the drapes at the bottom. He lays his palm against your lower back, fingers dipping under the edge of the sweater you’ve taken out of his side of the closet. You hum in question, straightening against him. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Maybe.” Hoseok smiles, letting his hand roam around to the soft expanse of your tummy and leaves it there. “I don’t need anything, just love you.”
“I love you, too?” Your brows furrow and you chuckle out your confusion. In all his dramatics and flare, Hoseok pulls away from you, a hand pressed against his chest as though wounded.
“A question?” he gasps, “Doth the fair maiden not share the same sentiments?”
“Oh, God. Never say that again.” You turn to face him, a laugh on your exhale, but you go along with it anyway; never one to deny him. “A rash assumption, Sir Jung.”
On your toes you tip, and Hoseok meets you halfway when he leans for your sake, expecting the kiss that you brush so lightly against his lips with a sweet hum. “I love you too, silly.”
Hoseok is reaching for you, but you slip away too quickly, free from the grasps of his hands you nudge the bag at your feet. “Now if you would be so kind. Help me pick a color.”
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“Should we get this?”
You’re a little ways away from Hoseok, where he’s manning the shopping cart filled with groceries. You’re standing near the freezers, a box of ice-cream pops in your hand. You’re not looking at him though, instead, pondering the different flavors in your sight.
Hoseok wheels the cart and sets it to the side and out of anyone’s way. You’ve long run through the list of essentials, now, Hoseok’s only trailing behind you as you ask his opinion on random things you wanted. “If you want, yeah.”
He looks at the flavors too, and picks up a box that marketed a pistachio flavor. You glance at it and make a face, “It's not that bad,” he chuckles, taking your plain chocolate and placing them both in the cart.
By the time you’re out of the grocery and on the drive back home, it’s almost four pm. Most of the morning and early afternoon was spent organizing the house, and a late lunch left you both behind on getting everything done.
With the indicator ticking rhythmically, Hoseok turns onto the neighborhood street. You lean forward in your seat, squinting, “Is that Seokjin’s car?”
It was, and once Hoseok parked in the driveway, he’d found his friends sitting on the sidewalk. Hugs and congratulatory greetings were shared, Jungkook is holding a stack of pizza boxes, a couple more than Hoseok thinks they’d be able to run through. Seokjin’s complaining about the crick in his neck that he acquired and blames on the length of time he’d spent driving over.
Namjoon and Yoongi are standing a little ways off to the side of the group, both laughing at the fact that they’ve brought the same bottle of whisky. Jimin’s clinging to Hoseok’s frame, saying that he missed him too much even though he’d seen him the day before in the city. Taehyung’s trying to get everyone to quiet down, camera in hand and wanting to take a photo.
So you all stand there once Taehyung has the camera on the tripod and they all surround you both, with smiles and peace signs. A photo that would be framed to put somewhere in the living room. And you all clamber inside, out of the cold before Yoongi could start to complain about it. A housewarming get together that was entirely unplanned, but not unwelcome.
When the sun pulled the moon into the sky, and the pizza boxes were surprisingly empty, the boys said their goodbyes at the door. Wandering off to Seokjin and Yoongi’s cars with promises of visiting as often as their time allows.
You and Hoseok called an early night, after you’d both washed the day away. He’d left you to settle into bed while he locked the doors and windows. Eyes wandering around the space that was previously open, now comforting, and with a memory that’s on its way to sinking into the walls.
Hoseok makes his way up the stairs, after making sure he’d left the kitchen light on because you wouldn’t be comfortable if all the lights are out. He finds you, just as you place your phone down on the nightstand. Shutting the door behind him, he quickly crawls under the covers and into your space.
He draws you closer to him with an arm around your waist, kisses your shoulder where your tee shirt’s tugged down to reveal your warm skin. You shift in his hold, turning to face him and Hoseok peppers small, fluttering kisses all over your face.
Nudging your chin with his fingers, Hoseok tilts your head back enough to slot his lips against yours. The kiss is languid and patient, much like his love for you, his fingers drifting softly against your jaw and into your hair.
It wasn’t long before Hoseok’s sucking on your bottom lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth to slide against yours. His hand trails away from your hair, down and back under your tee shirt where he gently grips your hip. He brings his knee up between your thighs and he swallows the sound you make when it pressed flush against your core.
He directs the motion of your hips against his thigh, and the whimper you let out when he pulls his mouth away from yours runs like electricity on a wire straight to his cock.
The hand that’s trapped under the weight of your head twists towards you, lacing into your hair so that Hoseok could press his lips against your neck. He nips at your skin with blunt teeth, there’s a desperation in the way you try to rock your hips faster than he’s letting you and the way softly whine his name.
“Hobi.” He feels your hand curl into the material of his tee and the way you tug. He hums, too busy sucking a bruise below your jaw to properly answer.
“Want you.”
Hoseok pulls away from your neck, his eyes adjusted enough to the darkness of the room to make out the outline of your features. He needs no light to guess how you look right now: pupils swallowing the expanse of your irises, flushed cheeks and kiss swollen lips.
Tilting his head, he halts your movement with a firm grip. Allowing you your moment to protest against it, there’s a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth and dark need swirling in his chest.
“Yeah?” Hoseok coos softly – mockingly – tongue flicking out to wet his lips. He feels your nod more than he sees, and he chuckles, “Ask nicely, little girl.”
“Please, please.” You chant, begging so, so sweet for him, and Hoseok catches your hand that snuck under his tee shirt. Softly, he clicks his tongue against his teeth, and pulls away.
He shifts, raising to throw the now too warm covers off. He settles you how he wants, on your back with his knees on either side of your hips. He keeps your wrists in his hand, above your head, while his other hand teases at the band of your panties. He kisses you softly, pressing his lips against yours and not doing much else, shifting to get himself between your thighs.
“So desperate for me, hm?” Angling his hips just right, he lets his arm hold his weight and presses the firmness of his cock against your covered cunt. At your moan, Hoseok draws his bottom lip between his teeth. He could barely stand it himself, his boxers felt too tight against him, he could feel just how worked up you are. There’s a dampness that’s all you, easing the grind of his cock against you. “Tell me what you want, baby.”
“Touch me, please.” You request breathlessly, hips raising to meet his.
“I am touching you, doll.” Hoseok squeezes your wrist gently in his hold to remind you, and he could only chuckle at your frustrated exhale, “You know how this works. Tell me exactly or I won’t know what you want.”
He stills his hips and waits – ever patient – until you catch your breath.
“Want your hands, cock – anything, please.”
Leaning down, Hoseok presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, before he draws back again, letting go of your hands. Running his hands along your sides, he tugs lightly at the hem of your tee, “Off.”
You raise slightly, hastily pulling the shirt up and over your head. Hoseok does the same, quickly clambering off the bed to get out of his clothes and getting back in just as quickly.
He puts himself right back between your legs, a hand fumbling blindly to press against your clit. His fingers slide against you easily, sinking into the warmth of you, his other hand squeezes at the base of his cock to mirror the tightness he feels. He’d barely gotten a few thrusts in when you’d turn restless, the way your hips rose to meet the motion of his hand gave way to your frustration.
“Hobi...”
“Okay, okay.” Hoseok chuckles as your impatience is his own, too. He tugs you to him with his arms around your thighs, using a hand to rub the sensitive head of his cock against your sodden folds. A groan leaves him as he sinks his cock into you, keeping a steady pace of shallow thrusts until he bottoms out.
“Fuck, baby.” Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut, leaning forward over you, caging you in with his hands beside you head, “Always so good for me.”
The kiss you share then is teeth and tongue as Hoseok finds his rhythm, the sound of his hips meeting yours is loud in the stillness of the room. He groans into your neck where he licks and sucks at your salty skin.
Hoseok almost blows his load when your pussy clenches around him. He knows he’s hitting the right spot when you shudder, thighs tightening as you try to pull him as closely as you could. “Gonna cum?”
“Y-yeah.” Your words broken, pitched high with your need, eyes rolling back as Hoseok began to drag out his movements.
“Yeah? Then beg for it little girl.” His hand shifts, resting against your jaw gently, “Beg me to let you cum.”
His thumb slips into your mouth and you suck on it like you would his cock, tongue swirling around the digit. Hoseok groans low in his throat, cock twitching inside your cunt. Eyes trained on your mouth, he presses down on your tongue to pry your lips apart. “Come on, sweetheart.”
His fingers squeezing into the plump flesh of your thigh, hips rolling against yours, “Beg.”
“Please, please let me cum, Hobi.”
“Good girl.” Hoseok hips snap, wild and chasing his own release. Nimble fingers with jagged movements against your clit, your moans raise in pitch and it had Hoseok’s hips stuttering.
“Fuck baby, c’mon.” Hoseok’s eyes roll back, he rests his forehead against yours, “Cum for me, pl-please, baby.”
He kisses you, when you gasp his name and shudder - all tongue and teeth and a sloppy mess, pace slowing to measured thrusts, and then he was coming. His hips stutter as he mutters a string of curses that blends into your name. There’s stars behind his eyelids and he can’t hear past the rushing of the blood in his ears.
Your fingers are running through his hair when Hoseok finally feels like he’s not melting into a boneless puddle against you. He presses kisses to your skin, wherever he could reach, with a lazy smile.
“Hobi,” You grunt, though there’s humor in your tone as you pat his side, “Please get off me I can’t breathe.”
Hoseok sighs, long and drawn out, “But I like it here.”
“I will bite you.” It’s a threat, and a promise, and Hoseok takes it seriously. Carefully, he raises up and off you, sitting near the foot of the bed.
He rubs at your calf with a light touch, “Wanna change the sheets now or after a quick rinse?”
“After,” you mutter, “I don’t even think I can move right now.”
Chuckling, Hoseok helps you sit up, crowding your space once more to place a kiss against your nose.
When all is said and done, you’re both laying in bed again, on fresh, cool sheets. Hoseok has his arm around you, and you’re both sleepy enough to drift away in the comfort that you’d both created.
"I love you.”
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cloud-somersault · 6 months
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warmup with the whole "what if wukong got amnesia again and met macaque" situation
things aren't polished and this looks gross because it's a warmup like...i wrote this and didn't edit it or finesse it whatsoever
and there's some freenoodles in here. y'know. cuz why not.
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fangbangerghoul · 3 months
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Inside the Lodge
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clubkira · 6 months
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DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND .ᐟ
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oh future husband, better love me right!
premise. the nhk is hosting another special broadcast featuring the popular fiancées of the jnt’s lineup! and this time, it’s truth or drink! ❤︎
content. haikyu!! jnt / f!reader. (koutarou bokuto, morisuke yaku, kiyoomi sakusa & tobio kageyama). fluff. downbad fiancés. suggestive jokes & allusions to sex. petnames. alcohol. overseas!kageyama & yaku (LDR). reader lives in japan (does not equal being japanese). a little angst.
notes. this part is… a little long! sit down for it ❤︎
soundtrack. dear future husband : meghan trainor.
part one can be read here.
dear future husband m.list // hq. masterlist.
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KOUTAROU BOKUTO.
“Been awhile since I last drank,” Bokuto cracks his knuckles upon seeing the many selections of beer he gets to choose, fingers twitching eagerly as they hover over the bottles. “Wonder what I should get…”
You sigh beside him jokingly, nudging his shoulder with your elbow, “We don’t have all day, Kou.”
“I’m just looking!” He chuckles, holding his hands up in mock surrender.
He randomly picks up a bottle of Sapporo, rotating it in his hands before nodding to himself, “This seems good!”
You place your hand on the small of his back, guiding him towards the studio for a final run through before the broadcast, “Alright, Kou. Now let’s get this started!”
The NHK film crew do a final mic and sound check when you arrive as a staff member seats you both at the table in the centre of the studio, a pile of cards with questions written on them, two shot glasses and the Sapporo bottle your fiancé picked out lined on it’s top.
After fiddling with the microphones hidden inside your clothes, the crew give you two a thumbs up and rush back to their cameras to start the recording.
Bokuto’s entire body is turned towards the cameras, sitting on the edge of his seat as he eagerly greets the viewers, “Hey! I’m Koutarou Bokuto,” he catches your eyes with a bright smile, grabbing your hand from across the table, “And this is my fiancée!”
“And we’ve been together for three years now,” You finish for him, hands folded neatly on the table, the cameras pan to show off the engagment rings that sits prettily on both you and Bokuto’s fingers.
“Four months engaged.”
“And we’re playing truth or drink!” You and Bokuto announce happily together, smiling at each other before turning your bodies back to face the cameras. The film crew adjust their angles, moving their cameras off their stands to get better opening shots of you and your fiancé.
“You guys ready to play?” The head camera crew member asks, giving you the okay to start the game.
The studio lights illuminate the white backdropped room, enveloping your eyes in waves whenever you stare at the camera lenses for a little too long.
You and Bokuto nod as he shifts his gaze towards you, “Want me to go first, Baby?” He asks, already grabbing his shot glass and the bottle of Sapporo. You giggle, “So eager to get drunk, Kou?”
“I told you, it’s been awhile!” He beams, pouring out the alcohol carefully into his shot and grabbing the top card from the pile on the table.
“What do you like most about me?” he reads aloud, looking up at you curiously, “I’m pretty sure you’ve told me this exact answer before.”
“Have I?” you tilt your head in thought, thinking the question over, “I mean, probably. It has been three years, after all.”
Bokuto places the card face down on his side of the table, combing through his hair, “I think when we first started dating, you told me it was my hair.”
“It is nice,” you agree, causing Bokuto to start laughing and in turn making you giggle as well. The two of you are already giddy and snickering despite no alcohol being present in your systems yet, “But I think now that we’re engaged, I can give a more detailed answer.”
“Oh?”
He leans over the table excitedly, a wide grin plastered across his face, “Tell me, Baby! What do you like most about me?” His hand is still placed atop of yours, the perfectly cut gems in both of your rings twinkling in sync underneath the studio lights, perfectly complimenting you fiancé’s eyes.
You hum in faux thought for a moment before smirking, “Hmm, your muscles.”
Bokuto’s smile drops slightly to a pout, still keeping his bright composure while masking his lowered grin, “Awe, Baby I thought you were going to say something like, real deep and emotional!” He jests, “Like how you love that I make you smile, y’know?”
You throw your head back in laughter, nudging his shoulder with your free hand, “I’m kidding, Kou!” Your smile is genuine when you see how disappointed he was at first at your reply, looking straight into his eyes as a way reassure him.
“Yes, Kou. What I like most is that you make me the happiest every day I’m with you.”
His smile brightens significantly, a chuckle of his own escaping his lips as he leans back into his chair, “Damn, played by my own girl.”
He slides the pile of cards over to you with a mischievous smirk, “Not that I’m complaining.”
You take the top card off the pile and read it over, fingers twirling the empty shot glass in your hands. Your lips purse as you try to contain the giggles making their way up your throat while reading the question on the card, hands quivering in silent laughter.
“Have you ever wanted to fuck one of our friends while with me?” Bokuto’s eyes seem to pop out of his head at the vast difference and shift in questions, turning to the NHK staff while laughing, “Are you sure this is okay to broadcast?”
The film crew nod, to which Bokuto shrugs, “Alright, then,” before turning back to you. “Uhh, can I just like- take a shot right now?”
“You’d rather drink than not tell me?” You joke, pouring out the Sapporo for your fiancé, “Damn, Kou. Do I not satisfy you enough?”
“Of course you do!” He corrects himself hastily, “It’s just, uh..” he leans in closer to you whisper in your ear quietly, “I don’t want to say Atsumu on national T.V...”
Your hand flies to your mouth in shock, shoulders shaking as you try to contain your cackles, “Atsumu?” you repeat in a hushed tone, making sure you heard him correctly. “Him?”
“He’s got nice hair!”
You both start to laugh at how hair seems to be a common appealing trait you notice in people. Shaking your head in mock disappointment, you shove the stack of questions back over to your fiancé’s side for his turn.
“What is the most embarrassing thing you caught me doing when I thought I was alone?” Bokuto asks, reading from the card he picked off the top of the pile and glancing back up at you.
You hum in thought for a moment, pondering the question.
“Uhm, I think that time you were rehearsing your Valentines day speech to me before we went out to eat at that restaurant a few years ago,” you reveal cautiously, “but you were using a pillow with a photo of my face taped on it as a stand-in.”
Bokuto’s jaw drops at the revelation, nearly falling out of his chair from the shock of what you just divulged to him, “You were there? Watching me do that?”
You have to practically fight the cackle bubbling it’s way up your throat, a smile creeping onto your face when you answer, “Yes, Kou. But it was sweet, so I didn’t mention it to you.”
“You kept that a secret for two years?” He asks again, and you nod.
Your fiancé’s face remains stunned for a few more moments before breaking out into a smile of his own, hand running down his face while laughing to himself. “Damn, I must’ve looked so dumb.”
“I thought it was cute!” You attempt to salvage things, giggling as you pick up the next question card, this time it’s for Bokuto.
“What part of wedding planning is the most challenging part for you?”
“The money…” He pouts, taking the card from you to read it over again before turning to the cameras.
“Weddings are so damn expensive— Did you know wedding flowers can cost up to two million yen?” He exclaims in shock, “For flowers!”
You sigh, plucking the question card from his hand and setting aside on his pile with a smile, “This is why you should leave the financial decisions to me, Kou. Our floral arrangements will not be that expensive, I can assure you.”
“Of course, Baby,” he grins, “I trust you completely on that,” his hands move to pick up the next card, lifting the corner and taking a peek at the question before flipping it over and reading it.
“What is something you’ve wanted to try in the bedroom but haven’t told me about?”
“Impact play,” comes your answer a bit too hastily to be considered normal.
Bokuto has a silent stare off with you for a few seconds after before you both break out in hysterical laughter, your fiancé cackling at how fast and prepared you were when you answered while you exclaim that’s why you could never tell him.
“Baby, that was so fast!” Bokuto reels over the table, pounding his fist into the wood while howling with laughter, gripping his empty shot glass in hand.
“Were you— were you that prepared to answer?”
Wiping the tears from your eyes, you make an attempt to defend your response, “I know you’d absolutely wreck me if we tried, that’s why I never asked!”
“I mean…” He trails off, glancing at you and letting his eyes roam your ring finger as a smirk makes it’s way onto his face, leaning closer to you over the table. “We could always try it at home later—”
“Last question!” You interrupt him, pulling the cards over to your side and grabbing the last question from the stack, you see Bokuto’s smile drop when he sits back in his seat from how you changed topics until he sees you wink at him from the corner of his eye.
“What is something you wish to tell me before we get married?”
Bokuto’s eyes light up at his question, holding up his shot of Sapporo and beaming brightly. Despite not drinking much during your game, his cheeks are flushed like he’s been drunk on your love this entire time, eyes crinkling with glee when he smiles.
“I hope I can keep being this happy when i’m with you after marriage,” He declares, “I love you, Baby.”
“I love you too, Kou,” you smile with him, raising your own shot to clink your two glasses together and down them simultaneously, the cool smoothness of the beer running down your throats.
You can feel the mild bitterness on your tongue afterwards, it leaves it’s taste behind even several hours after your drinking game when you two return to your shared home.
But the sincerity in Bokuto’s eyes when they fell on you back in the studio, and the way he gazes at you like you’re the only thing in his world even with the several NHK staff and film members recording your every move washes that all away instantaneously, overpowering it with sheer sweetness.
It’s just not one you can taste as easily as the flavour of Sapporo.
You might not have gotten drunk that night, but Bokuto’s certain he’s been drunk on your love for the entirety of all three years you’ve been together and wouldn’t mind if things stayed like this forever.
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MORISUKE YAKU.
“You’re going down, sweetheart,” Yaku warns you with a teasing wink, lifting the bottle of Vodka in his hands to inspect the label, “Playing in the Russian League gives me an alcohol tolerance advantage that you don’t have.”
“I didn’t know just playing in Russia meant you were an experienced drinker,” you hum, playing along with his jokes for the fun of it. “I don’t think athletes are supposed to consume a lot of vodka anyways.”
“Well, you might as well back out now,” Yaku advises, shrugging with a sly grin, one of the camera crew’s members rushes up to fix the loose microphone on his suit before scurrying back to their position.
“Don’t wanna get beaten by your own fiancé now, do you?”
You merely roll your eyes at his antics, a reluctant smile making it’s way onto your face as you realign the messy stack of cards on your table, sounds of the director doing a final run through of lights and cameras are heard around you.
“Yeah yeah, save it for after you get wasted, Mori.”
The cameras start up as the director nods in your direction, indicating for you two to introduce yourselves to the viewers tuning in, Yaku holds your hand as he recites his lines.
“Hi, I’m Morisuke Yaku,” your fiancé beams, giving your hand a comforting squeeze, “And this right here, is my wonderful fiancée, whom I adore very much.”
Even several years later, Yaku’s swoon worthy words have an effect on you after all this time, making you feel like you’re still in that young and eager love stage. Attempting to hide your giddy face from him, you turn to face the camera as well with a wide grin.
“We’ve been together for four and a half years,” You gush, the sparkling engagement band on your finger being shown outwardly when the cameras zoom in for a closer look. “Engaged for eight months, now.”
“And today, we��ll be playing truth or drink,” Yaku reveals to the excited viewers, the cameras change positions to new angles while the sound crew makes sure your microphones are picking up your words.
After signaling to the director that they are indeed working, he asks you two, “Are you ready to play?”
You and Yaku both agree as he opens the bottle of Vodka, pouring it into your shot glass first before he pours out his own, “Hm, what a gentleman you are, Mori.” You joke, noticing he gave you your alcohol first before serving himself any.
“Always, for you.” He sighs dreamily, setting the bottle down beside him and pushing the cards over to you with his familiar cheshire grin. “And because I’m such a gentleman, you should go first, love.”
You stifle a laugh into the palm of your hand at the sudden switch in personality but take the top card off anyway, flipping it over and reading the question for Yaku written on it, “What is one thing you wish I did more of in our relationship?”
He groans, slumping down in his seat with his Vodka in hand, “Fly over to come visit me overseas,” he jokingly groans, faux-booing you with a thumbs down and all as he turns to the film crew.
“Did you know she doesn’t get on the first plane to Russia whenever I ask, can you believe her?”
You merely snicker at his jeers and turn your card over, placing it down on the table beside your shot. “Well I’m sorry, but I’m unable to predict whenever you’ll miss me spontaneously.”
“It’s not spontaneous,” Yaku argues, “I tell you like, two minutes in advance.”
You raise an eyebrow at his claims, “Wanna bet, Mori? I have screenshots.”
“Maybe I’ll just drink to this instead.”
You both giggle as he shakes his head in defeat, taking the next card off the pile and reading out loud the first question for you.
“Have you ever—” Yaku begins to lose his composure as he reads, holding back his giggles before sputtering out, “faked an orgasm with me?”
You burst out into laughter as Yaku discards the card to his side, head thrown back in hysterics while using the table to stabilize himself.
“Well?” He asks, wiping the tears that have begun to form around his eyes, “Have you?”
You begin to reach for your Vodka shot, causing your fiancé to break out into another, more excessive fit of cackles, “Are you serious, honey?”
“Okay well, maybe!” You confess wholeheartedly, raising the Vodka to your lips, “Back when we were first dating!”
Yaku scoffs disapprovingly, but you can tell he’s not seriously mad when you down the vodka and he’s looking at you worriedly, asking if it was too strong for you afterwards.
You dismiss his concerns, saying it’s fine and that you can handle it before he relaxes and pushes the cards back over to you.
“Have you ever had a dream about me cheating on you?” You ask him, Yaku’s face immediately sours at his question, you look to him expectantly and wait for his reply.
“… Ugh, yes,” he begrudgingly admits after a few moments of silence, eyebrows furrowing as he recalls it unpleasantly, “I had a dream once where you cheated on me with Lev.”
“Lev?” You cackle, “The— the 6’5 russian guy from your highschool volleyball team??”
Yaku’s hand moves to his vodka-filled shot glass, “Yes,” he moans, “It was awful. Hope I never see Lev butt-naked in my dreams ever again.”
“You don’t have to drink to this one, Mori,” you giggle as Yaku downs his vodka quickly, not even flinching at the burn, maybe he was right about the tolerance advantage. “Since you answered it.”
“Ah, don’t care,” he groans, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his suit, “After having to reimagine that scene, I needed the alcohol.”
Yaku takes the next card off the pile of questions skeptically, flipping it over and reading it out loud.
“Do you have any insecurities when it comes to me playing overseas in Russia?”
The question causes you to stop and think as Yaku places the card face down next to him, pouring another shot and sliding it over to you. “You don’t have to say anything, sweetheart.”
His gentle tone reassures you but you shake your head, pushing the vodka away, “No it’s okay, I don’t mind saying it.” Yaku looks surprised but nods understandingly, taking the glass back and giving you the room to process your next words while he remains quiet.
“I think my only insecurity is not knowing if you’re safe while overseas,” you admit to your fiancé. Yaku doesn’t say anything in response, knowing you have more to say as he lets you say what you need while silently encouraging you to elaborate.
“I hate not having you beside me because I don’t know where you are, and I just miss you a lot you know?”
Yaku’s cheek rests against the palm of his hand, concern washing over his face again as he looks across the table to you, “Awe, honey. I didn’t know you felt that way,” he coos, “do you hate whenever I leave for volleyball season?”
You shrug dismissively, the weight of your words beginning to catch up to you as your voice becomes quieter, trailing off at the end. “I mean, I don’t hate it, but like- I wanna know you’re alright while in Russia…”
Yaku’s about to speak when you shake your head dismissively, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” before you’re reaching for the deck of cards, already pulling the top question up and flipping it over to read.
Your eyes drag over the words as a pit begins to form inside your stomach. The next question for Yaku causes you to cringe, still reeling from the uneasiness of the last one as you awkwardly ask him, “Have you… ever regretted or had doubts about our engagement?”
Yaku’s face of concern turns into one of astonishment, he looks almost appalled at how unsure you look and sound while asking him.
“Absolutely not,” he states firmly, holding your hand that holds engagement band on it, you can feel the distress radiating off him as he reassures you in a hushed tone.
“I’ve never once regretted proposing to you, and I fully intend on marrying you.”
Yaku’s words dislodge the lump in your throat as you begin to chuckle to yourself, eyes looking down at his hand where the engagement ring he wears that matched your own. “I’m sorry if you thought I was doubting you, Mori. It’s just—”
“You don’t need to justify your feelings,” Yaku reiterates sternly, “I know, okay? You don’t need to explain this on live T.V.”
Knowing he’s only trying to make sure nothing of what you say can be interpreted wrongly later by media, you nod as he sighs in relief with an uneasy smile.
“I think this next question is our last one,” he announces, his smile morphing back into that familiar cheshire grin, the one that always brightens your day. You think he’s doing it in an attempt to lighten the mood, or maybe he just naturally makes you happy.
Yaku picks up the final question card and flips it over, reading it over with a calm smile, “What have you enjoyed most about being engaged to me?” His voice is gentle as he looks up to you, placing the card down on his pile.
“Well, love?” He encourages you, knowing he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable he gives you the choice, “Do you want to answer, or take a drink?”
You’d be a fool to drink at this question, there isn’t anything to drink for here but there’s just so much about being engaged to Yaku that you love that you can’t quite find the words for it. And while the majority of your engagement has been spent with Yaku being away in Russia, it doesn’t mean you enjoy it any less than if he were with you in Japan.
“… I enjoy knowing you will always be with me,” you begin to speak slowly, making sure your words are clear and concise while twirling your empty shot glass in hand absentmindedly.
Trying to fit all you want to say to your fiancé in a few words is tough, but you manage to shorten it enouhh to say all you want to tell him. “Because even while you’re playing overseas, I know you will always come back home to me.”
Yaku’s face unexpectedly heats up at your words, the apples of his cheeks turning bright red as his lips form into a shy and nervous grin, one isn’t anything like the mischievous and playful personality you’re accustomed to seeing while with him.
“I… I love you, sweetheart.” He manages to speak after some time, loosening the collar of his dress shirt nervously, but the smile on his face never falters. “I always have and always will.”
He extends his hand out to you, motioning for you to give him your shot glass. You hand it to him and he pours out some Vodka, sliding it back over to you once full before filling his own.
“Yes, honey,” he whispers unconsciously while pouring his alcohol, and it’s the happiest you’ve seen him all day. From his flushed complexion, dopey smile and euphoric demeanour, he appears to be glowing. Or maybe it’s the blaring lights behind him that are playing tricks on you.
Your fiancé has never looked so sure of himself until this moment, Yaku’s eyes never straying from yours as he raises his shot glass, breaking into his biggest smile yet.
“I will always come back home to you. No matter how long we are apart for,” and to that, you both cheer, clinking your glasses as you toast to your engagement.
Downing the alcohol in unison, the bitter sting of the Vodka attacks your throats relentlessly, but neither you or Yaku care about that in this moment or the next.
The world’s most intense Vodka brewed directly in the heart of Moscow, Russia could never be so strong as to have an effect on either of you when you’re in the presence of each other. You’re certain that Yaku would drown himself in the harshest of Vodka’s if it meant it was all for you.
A little Vodka is nothing compared to what he’d go through for you.
The way Yaku’s entire demeanour changes when with you, the largest of smiles etched onto his face for a side he only shows while you’re with him here, in Japan.
Remaining wholely committed to you even while seperated by land and sea is all a true testament to your relationship, and it puts your heart at ease.
Yaku may not always be at home; but Yaku knows that home is with you, and he knows he’ll always be with you in due time.
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KIYOOMI SAKUSA.
“Oh, he’s a lightweight,” you tell the film crew who are adjusting their camera stands nearby as Kiyoomi pulls out the chair at the table for you to sit at, giggling when you hear the faintest muffled groan come from underneath his face mask.
Sitting atop the table is a bottle of Scotch, the deck of question cards and two shot glasses on it’s sanitized surface as per request by your fiancé.
“This’ll be so easy for me.”
“As if,” Kiyoomi scoffs, taking his own seat across from you and scooching his chair forward, “I’ll beat you and then have to hear you drunkenly cry about it back home later for the next several hours.”
“Nope,” you declare mischievously, folding your arms over the table and laying your head in them while looking up at your fiancé, “Hey, did you know Atsumu told me you’re an emotional drunk?”
You can see Kiyoomi’s eyes twitch underneath his thick black locs, hand reaching to grip his hair in annoyance. “That fucking—”
The director interrupts him unexpectedly when he calls to the rest of the crew in the studio for everyone to take their places behind the cameras, Kiyoomi sighs deeply as his shoulders relax and he leans back in his chair waiting for the broadcast to begin.
“I’m Kiyoomi Sakusa,” he states to the viewers plainly, barely acknowledging the cameras pointed straight at his face when he motions to you, “And this is my fiancée of almost a year.”
You can hear the way his voice softens lightly when referring to you as his fiancée.
“We’ve been together for four years now,” You welcome the viewers much more warmly than your fiancé does, announcing eagerly, “Engaged for eleven months, and we’re playing truth or drink!”
Again, you’re a lot more excited than Kiyoomi is when the director asks, “You guys okay to start playing?” but he agrees to it nonetheless, the subtle nod of his head doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
Kiyoomi grabs the stack of cards full of questions and shuffles the deck around a bit, when asked by the director why he did so he answers, “So if anyone planted any weird questions at the top of the pile for her they’re pushed to the bottom.”
After reorganizing the cards, Kiyoomi hands the stack to you, letting you have first pick of the game. You try to argue, but he doesn’t listen.
“Ladies go first,” he says, expectantly waiting for you to start.
You take the first card of the newly shuffled deck and begin to read it for your fiancé, “Favourite memory of us, pre-engagement or post-engagement?”
Kiyoomi taps his empty glass against the mahogany of the table repeatedly for a brief moment, thinking it over before letting out a deep sigh-turned groan, reaching over and pouring out some Scotch for himself as you sit back in stunned shock at his actions.
“Wait, what—”
“Don’t question me,” he rasps, lowering his face mask and downing his shot with ease, there’s hints of floral notes in the Scotch he can taste.
He pulls his mask back up seconds later and looks up at you, you swear you can see a smirk forming under his mask from the way his eyes lift in amusement afterwards, causing your cheeks to heat up at what he could’ve been thinking about that he had to take a shot to get out of saying it.
Finishing off his Scotch, your fiancé takes both the top card off the deck and his empty shot glass before reading aloud his first question for you.
“What was your first impression of me when we met?” Kiyoomi reads monotonously, his stare hardens when he notices you jokingly reaching for your shot glass, tossing the card over to your side with a groan.
“Really?” He huffs, arms crossed over his chest and glaring halfheartedly at your tease. “Didn’t Motoya say you like… hated me at first or something?”
“I didn’t hate you,” you giggle, pouring the Scotch into your glass while avoiding your fiancé’s gaze, “I just.. am a little thirsty right now.”
“Haha,” Kiyoomi laughs dryly, watching as you down your shot quickly, the citrusy notes in the Scotch make it pleasant to drink. “You’re soo funny, dear. Must be really thirsty today.”
“I am,” you wink, placing your glass back down on the table before taking the next card off the pile.
“What is the most embarrassing nickname for me you have in mind?” Kiyoomi asks, and you snort.
“It’s only embarrassing because Atsumu came up with it…” you turn to the cameras to whisper to the viewers, facing your fiancé who’s giving you a skeptic look that soon turns into existential dread when you begin to snicker.
He groans, “I swear to god if it’s Omi-Omi—”
“It’s Omi-Omi.”
You can practically feel the annoyance radiating off of Kiyoomi while you bat your eyelashes innocently at him, playful shrug of your shoulders as you pull the cards back over to your side, taking the next card off the deck while your fiancé whispers something about killing Atsumu at the next practice from across the table.
“What colour or colours are your favorite on me?” You look up at the director almost immediately before Kiyoomi can even open his mouth, “Can I just say it— Because I know.”
The director nods, “He told me once it was black and gold,” Kiyoomi mumbles something incoherent under his breath, whatever he’s saying being muffled by his nask as he hides his face away from the cameras, the camera crew exchange a look amongst themselves.
“Aren’t those the colours of the MSBY Black Jackals?” One of the crew members mentions offhandedly and you smirk, looking over to your flustered fiancé with the most shit-eating grin you can muster, “Yes, yes they are.”
“Should’ve just let me answer instead,” he mutters while pulling out the next card from the deck to move the game along, coughing as his face slowly returns to it’s natural colour.
He chuckles when he reads it over, “How would you spend an entire week without me?” he turns to the cameras with his own smug face, placing the card down on the table. “She doesn’t.”
“I can,” you interject and he gives you a deadpan stare, “Yeah, can. Doesn’t mean you do, though.”
“Anyways,” you swerve back to your answer, taking the card from his side and reading it over yourself.
“I would have a very relaxing week without you, consisting mostly of singing and dancing in our empty kitchen without you to judge me.”
“I don’t judge you.”
“Yes you do.”
“Nope.”
You two could probably have this back and fourth for hours on end but you stop when you catch the director’s eye, one of his assistants motions to you hurriedly that it’s nearly time to end the broadcast.
With that in mind, you pick up the last question card, flipping it over and reading it for Kiyoomi.
“What’s one thing you’d like to tell me at the alter if you couldn’t say anything else.”
“That I love you,” Kiyoomi says almost immediately, tracing the rim of his shot glass with his ring finger delicately, you can hear the gentleness in his voice when he speaks. “And that I hope you’ll always be my lover, whatever that means for us in the future.”
“That’s more than one thing, Kiyo.”
“I don’t care.”
You scoff playfully, tossing the card aside and pouring out two shots of Scotch for you and your fiancé. Whilst handing him his glass your rings bump together momentarily, the clinking of the diamonds makes the two of you smile, though Kiyoomi’s is hidden underneath his mask.
“Cheers, my dear,” he mutters softly, lowering his mask again to drink and allowing you to finally see the beautiful smile he hides underneath, usually reserved only for you.
“Cheers, Kiyo,” and you two drink, the Scotch tastes lovely and refined on both of your tongues when it runs down your throats with ease.
It’s light and sophisticated, and the flavour profile fits Kiyoomi so well. You consider telling him that, but refrain because you think he won’t understand what you mean; not knowing he’s thinking the exact same about you.
Kiyoomi thinks you two may be a match made in heaven, if such a thing exists then it perfectly encapsulates the two of you.
As the cameras cut and several crew members rush around the studio, Kiyoomi doesn’t notice any of that in this moment— his gaze continues to be locked onto you wholly; lovingly enraptured by the beautiful image of you across from him that he hopes will be burned into the back of his head like the taste of this Scotch, but for many years to come and not just a mere few hours.
Kiyoomi can drink Scotch at any time he pleases, but being married to you is something he is excited for and craves everyday of his life as the days on the calender tick down to your wedding, it keeps him motivated to continue each day if he knows it’s just one day closer to a life with you, one where he knows you will be with him every day going forward.
The day you two will finally be united as one. Kiyoomi can’t wait for that morning to come, when night falls and after the ceremony is done he can finally refer to you as his wife and not just his fiancée.
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TOBIO KAGEYAMA.
Tobio gulps upon seeing the Sake being poured into his shot glass by the NHK staff member, being handed the alcohol before they pour out another shot for you, to which you graciously accept with a smile and nod of your head.
“Uhh…” His piercing gaze reaches across to you across the table, nervously fiddling with the glass in hand as he twirls it inbetween his fingers, “I don’t, really hold alcohol well, love..”
“Really?” You stare at him blankly, squinting down at the alcohol in your own shot, “what do you drink in Italy then, Tobio?”
“Limoncello,” he sighs, “but it’s supposed to be sipped slowly, not downed like shots usually are.” He makes a face as the thought of attempting to drink Limoncello like shots ripples through his mind, it would most definitely not end well for him.
You chuckle and give him a reassuring smile, placing your hand over his gently. The diamond on his ring is cool to the touch when you run your thumb over it, with sharp and well defined cut corners. “You’ll be fine, Tobio.”
He nods unsurely but allows the NHK camera crew to do their final run through, making sure everything is in order before the cameras begin to roll and the director is motioning for you both to recite your lines.
Your fiancé’s voice is a little strained, a faint stutter can be heard as he speaks slowly, “I’m… Tobio Kageyama,” he manages to say before craning his head to his left, across the table.
“And I’m her fiancé,” his eyes shift towards you as you give the cameras a polite wave, “We’re playing… truth or drink.”
“We’ve been together for five years,” You excitedly tell the viewers, holding up your ring finger to show off the dazzling diamond atop it, “And engaged for two.”
The director asks from out of frame, “Why have you two been engaged for so long?” A question that most viewers are probably wanting to know, Tobio answers it for you.
“I wanted to marry her sooner,” he timidly admits, looking down at his lap to avoid the harsh glares of the camera lenses, “But with me playing in Ali Roma, it’s hard to plan things out, I guess.”
You nod, “Besides,” you chime in giddily, taking over for him, “It’s fun to be in this little engaged stage for a long time, makes everyday that bit more exciting.”
You ramble on about how fun it is to call Tobio during his off days; calling him at three in the morning in Japan while in Italy it’s 7PM to tell him about a cute floral arrangement you saw earlier that day while shopping that you’d love to have at your wedding.
Facetiming him in the dark of the night, wrapped in blankets and wearing his highschool volleyball jersey to ask him what kind of food from Italy he wants to incorporate into the wedding menu, and texting him photos of different style of wedding dresses you’re considering wearing on your big day while getting out of the shower.
You unintentionally forget about your jittery mess of a fiancé while you speak, beaming as bright as the glowering studio lights as Tobio looks at you amazed.
Tobio’s nervousness slowly fades when he sees the ring on your finger and just how happy you are to be engaged to him. It’s always been a worry of his that you hate the long wait to get married to him, that playing overseas would hurt your relationship because of long he is away from home at times.
But your gleeful joy in telling thousands of viewers in real time that you love just being engaged to him for two years; that you don’t mind it at all, brings some peace of mind to his fragile heart.
“Are you two ready to play?”
Knuckles slowly unclenching as he takes a deep breath, he nods his head to the director, indicating the start of the game. He starts first, picking up the first card from the pile.
“What is the most awkward date we’ve ever been on?” Tobio’s face drops immediately upon reading, turning the card face down on the table and turning to the director, “Can I start over? Or make her drink?”
“It’s her choice if she wants to answer or drink.” The director answers.
Tobio turns to you hastily, eyes practically pleading with you not to say what you have on your mind, he’s already inside your mind and fears for what you could potentially reveal on national television, causing you to erupt in a fit of giggles as you reach for the Sake.
“Fine, fine. I won’t say, Tobio.” You’ve never seen your fiancé so relieved, almost seeing the metaphorical weight lifting off his shoulders with your own eyes when you take the shot.
The Sake is sweet, like sticky rice. It’s feels cool when it hits the back of your tongue and nice to drink, reminding you of the Italian sweets Tobio would send you from Italy. Noting that they’d pair nicely with Sake, you consider getting Tobio to send you more of them in the mail soon.
“You owe me for that one, Tobio,” you chuckle after finishing your shot, “Whatever the next question is you have to answer it.” He groans in protest but agrees after some convincing as you reach for the question pile and grab your first question for him.
“Have you kept a secret hobby or interest hidden from me?”
Shockingly, Tobio nods his head and unexpectedly calm about the question he was supposedly ‘forced’ to answer, “I got into gardening when I first came to Italy.”
“You what?” You utter, delightfully surprised at this revelation, “What plants do you take care of in Italy?”
“I have a few hanging Boston Fern and Ivy in some pots around my apartment…” Tobio tells you, adverting his gaze from your eyes the more your smile grows towards him. “I didn’t mean to keep them from you, I just… forgot to mention it everytime we call.”
“Tobio…” You laugh at how empty headed your fiancé can be at times, sometimes you think he’d forget his head if it weren’t secured to his body. “We call almost every day!”
“Yeah, but you usually call me late at night!” He defends himself, “I don’t normally leave my room that late at night, so you never see them!”
You shake your head in disbelief at this, faux disappointment at your fiancé for keeping this interest of his hidden for so long, “When I visit you in Rome, you have to show me these plants, deal?”
He nods in approval at that arrangement, a small smile creeping onto his face as he takes the next card off the deck, “Have you pretended to like a gift I gave you when you actually didn’t?”
You consider reaching for the Sake but reel your hand back at the last second, deciding to tell him straight up.
“Yeah, the lingerie you sent me a few months ago.”
“You didn’t like it?”
Tobio’s mouth hangs open, visibly swallowing his shame away as he sets the question card down on the table, a hand running through his hair in deep thought.
“Okay well, didn’t like isn’t the right word per se—”
“Was it the style?” Tobio begins interrogating you sternly, brows furrowed and that determined look in his eyes you’re so familiar with while watching his volleyball matches.
“Was it the colour, or was it too flimsy? I tried going to a new store that time, I knew I should’ve just stuck to the other one—”
“Tobio!”
He’s immediately brought out of his thoughts by your cackles, blinking as he’s focused on your laughing figure in front of him. His cheeks are tinted a dark shade of red, thinking he’s said something embarrassing when he whispers a low, “Yes, love?”
Through fits of giggles and laughter, you barely manage to sputter out, “It was just the wrong size, babe!”
Tobio’s eyes widen significantly at the reveal, looking down at his hands where his engagement ring sits comfortably in his ring finger, feeling his body shrink in on itself further into his seat while you’re howling across from him.
If you were seated beside each other he’s sure you’d be slapping his arm too for good measure.
“C-can we move onto the next question…” He mumbles just above the microphone strapped to his dress shirt’s minimum level to pick up sounds. If his old highschool teammates were here— if Hinata were here, god, he’d never hear the end of it. “Please?”
Finally settling down from your giggly high, you vaguely nod, still catching your breath when you reach for the next question card on the pile and flip it over as Tobio tries his best to calm down his reddened face.
“What is the most romantic thing your partner has ever done for you?”
After Tobio’s managed to relax himself, he thinks the question over, chin in hand as his gaze lands directly on the Sake bottle on the table beside him where he gets lost in thought while mulling over the question.
“I think…” he mutters to himself, “When you told me it was okay to go play in Ali Roma, instead of discouraging me to stay in Japan.”
His answer legitimately surprises you, “Is that, really your response, Tobio?”
He nods, hands reaching up to the nape of his neck. “Yeah… I don’t know if romantic is the right word, I guess.“
“But knowing you were there to support me; even if I could tell you were scared for me going overseas, it felt like the most romantic gesture someone could ever do to me.”
Tobio blinks, suddenly remembering his words are being broadcasted on national T.V and coughing awkwardly, “Uh, yeah, that’s my answer.”
He begins to notice the gazes of the rest of the film crew and director that are burning right through him, feeling the colour returning to his cheeks.
Tobio looks over to you anxiously, finding you with the brighest eyes he’s ever seen, he could get lost in them if he stared into them long enough. You purse your lips for a moment, before a smile blossoms across your face.
“Wow, Tobio,” you breathe out dreamily, “That was… so sweet of you to say,” Tobio has a hard time meeting your gaze, you can tell he’s still feeling anxious so you grab his hand and force him to look you in the eye.
“I will always support you, okay?” You tell him firmly, he’s a bit startled at how forward you’re being but nods before you quickly add, “Even if I don’t like being so far away from you, you don’t need to worry about me. Don’t be so nervous about this, alright?”
Tobio’s lips quiver into a strained frown before he sighs, “It’s not that simple,” you feel his hand give yours a light squeeze for comfort, interlocking his fingers with your own. “I wish I could just… not be so worried for you. But I love you too much for that.”
“Loving me means you understand that no matter what, I am right behind you,” you voice to him directly. “Maybe not physically, but no matter where you go, I will follow eventually.”
Tobio goes silent for a few seconds, even when he knows dozens of people in this studio— hundreds of thousands are watching him live, he’s only looking at you; having eyes only for you. With a shaky nod of his head, he finally manages to crack a smile.
“I understand.”
Releasing your hand from his grip, he pulls his next question for you from the pile, looking far more relaxed than he did at the beginning of your game. He’s comfortable in this stage of your relationship, even if he knows that others think it’s strange— the distance between you two, the long engagement period.
He knows the only opinion that should matter to him—that does matter to him is yours alone.
“When you hear my name in public, what comes to your mind?”
“That you have done another amazing set,” You answer with ease, allowing yourself to feed his ego for once. “Or won another game, who knows at this point? You can do it all.”
Tobio seems satisfied with that answer, even uncharacteristically relishing in your praise. “Ah, I am pretty good at volleyball, aren’t I?”
You lean over the table to punch his shoulder lightly, a teasing grin dances on your lips which matches his own, “Yeah yeah, you’re welcome for being so supportive of my fiancé.”
“Well thank you then, love.”
One of the camera crew’s members motions to the director, indicating it’s almost time to wrap up the broadcast. Feeling at peace, you grab the final card of the question deck, eyes flickering to Tobio as you read.
“Anything else you’d like to say to me about our engagement?”
Tobio takes a deep breath, steadying himself before he speaks. He wants to make sure he tells you everything on his mind, but maybe that will have to wait for another time— a more private time.
One that isn’t being broadcasted on national television. So he’ll settle for the next best course.
“I just wanted to say…” He hesitates for a moment, his mouth opening and closing at times until he can find his bearings. “That being engaged to you has taught me a lot of things.”
You’re about to say something in response until he holds his hand up, indicating he isn’t done yet.
“And… I wouldn’t mind if we stayed like this forever.”
Tobio notices the slight look of confusion in your eyes as he continues, “Wh-what I mean is, uh… even though we aren’t married yet, you make me so happy that I feel like I could be okay with what we have.”
“I still want to marry you!” He blurts out worriedly in an attempt to explain himself, “But knowing you’re not bothered by how long we’re engaged for is enough to reassure me that no matter how long we wait for, I’ll still be as happy as the day we marry.”
Tobio shuts his eyes, burying his head in his hands from sheer embarrassment, “Fuck, that was so stupid sounding-”
“Hey now..” You pry his hands away from his face with a pout, leaning across the table’s surface to cup his cheek, “That wasn’t stupid, that was sweet!”
“Really?” He asks, unsure if he believes you, “I’m not really good with my words, y’know.”
“Well I understood what you meant,” you smile, pressing a kiss to your ring finger and placing it on your fiancé’s lips, “And I feel the same way.”
Tobio’s face erupts into a bright scarlet red as you pour the two of you a shot of Sake each, downing them together with your rings on prominent display for all of Japan to see.
Your fiancé is still quite popular in Japan despite now playing overseas, overhearing the NHK film crew and the thousands of viewers who tuned in were watching his broadcast with you while dying in laughter.
It’s not laughter to mock him however— as he soon finds out when after the cameras cut and he can still hear the staff talking about how adorable he looked during the live special.
And his old highschool friends blowing up his phone, sending him clips of his broadcast with hearts and kissy face emojis, but you swear to him that it’s all well intentioned. Maybe not Tsukishima’s to some extent, but nontheless.
All Tobio knows he can do is sigh, turn his phone off and settle into your arms after everything’s been said and done. His time in Japan is limited after all, he has to fly back to Italy in a few days time.
He knows it hurts to leave you again, and you hate sending him off at the airport. He wishes he could marry you immediately— but there’s still so much to be done until that day can arrive.
Tobio doesn’t know when the lucky day will come when you can instead wear a wedding ring on your finger rather than an engagement ring, but as Tobio has discovered today; the two of you will be okay until then despite it all.
It takes a lot to make Tobio anxious about your engagement, but it also takes a lot to shake the strong foundation the two of you have built with each other over the years.
The two of you have planned your future with each other as the main component of it all in the centre of it for as long as you can remember, and he’s prepared to withstand any obstacles that threaten his happiness with you.
Tobio is at ease knowing you have his back, and he has yours even while separated by thousands of miles of stretching oceans and ground.
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reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
© property of shoyostar / thomae 2023. all rights reserved.
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a-cosmic-elf · 3 months
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Tales from The Viewport
a Starfield ficlet by a cosmic elf.
*contains spoilers for ng+*
“Hey, new here, huh? I can tell. Welcome to New Atlantis. I’m Nyssa, bartender here at The Viewport.
“Take a seat. Can I getcha something? I recommend a New Arrival, warm and sweet, with a little kick at the end to combat jump sickness. Just don’t ask for the recipe. It’s a family secret.
“Heading to the MAST district? I recommend avoiding the area; I hear there’s been some trouble up at The Lodge...
“It all began with the arrival of the strangest ship you’ve ever seen. Jim, the Service Tech at the port, said he nearly filled his flight suit when that thing landed!
“The next thing we know, there’s a shoot out at The Lodge, you know, Constellation’s HQ, heard of those guys? Well, sadly, you’re not likely to anymore.
“Security cordoned off the area and are staying pretty tight-lipped about what went down. But the word on the street is the entire place is abandoned. The members of Constellation have vanished! Not a single trace of them, only a handful of dead Va’ruun Zealots, can you imagine? Zealots, here, in New Atlantis!
“A strange ship, and House Va’runn, you can’t tell me those two things aren’t connected. *phew* that was one crazy day!
“I hope those guys at Constellation are okay. Hey, you didn’t hear it from me, but a UC Sec pilot told me their starstation is empty, too. It’s all too spooky for my tastes.
“And just when you think it can’t be any more bizarre, the owner of that ship strolled right into this very bar and hired this guy, Simeon; I believe that’s his name. He agreed to board that ship! That’s one brave guy, I don’t think I would have done it. He must have been very keen to get out of town for some reason.
“Aaanyway, never a dull day in New Atlantis, there’s always something going on. If you see anything else suspicious, I recommend telling security.
“And stay away from anyone in odd-looking spacesuits. Who knows where that Simeon guy is going to end up. I don’t know why they let that ship land in the first place. Just what was that security patrol in orbit thinking? Biggest case of ‘not my job’, if you ask me.
“I hope you enjoy your stay. Let me know if you need a refill.”
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meimi-haneoka · 1 month
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Cosmos - Akiho/Kaito one-shot
Once upon a time, when chapter 48 had definitively broken the cage to my admiration and support for the YunaAki pairing, I couldn't help but start imagining their future together.
And one of the first headcanons that came up to me was this one. Not in depth like you can see developed here, but the setting was definitely this one. An intimacy that didn't require for them to necessarily "jump on eachother". And for personal reasons, I needed to reclaim this headcanon so badly, write it down and release it to the world. Just because of that, I can already feel like this little thing spilled here will be one of my favorite writings.
I'm pretty sure this one, at more than 1600 words, is categorized as a fully fledged fic, right?
Now, this is another quite romantic one, but I managed to sneak in a tiny bit of delicious angst towards the end, just cause it's so much their element and I can't stand over-sugary stuff myself. I can't believe I also made actual research for this one. Get ready for some cosmic magic under the cut ✨
Genre: fluff, romance, a sprinkle of angst. Akiho is 17 years old. They haven't found a cure for Kaito yet, but! She has disclosed her true name to him. Snippet: "Akiho-san...do you know the origin of your name?" "...My name?" "Your true one."
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All the curtains were closed tightly. The spacious living room was completely immersed in the darkness, except for a couple of scented candles on the ground, faintly illuminating the floor. Any hindrance out of the way. A generous number of soft cushions of all sizes was arranged on the floor, on top of a large camping mattress, right between the two candles.
Akiho threw herself enthusiastically on the pile of cushions, while Kaito lay down in a slower motion.
"....Ready?" Kaito whispered with a soft smile, while the girl next to him nodded excitedly, azure eyes shining in the dark.
One press on a button of the remote controller, and the whole ceiling turned into a sparkling planetarium.
Akiho gasped. "Oh my god....this is amazing!" She instinctively brought her hands to her face, covering partly her mouth while her voice was choking with emotion, a quirk that even at 17 years old she couldn't drop yet.
The starry vault rotated slowly, while some stars twinkled, giving a quite realistic effect to the scenery. Every now and then, a shooting star would appear randomly, inviting to make a wish.
Kaito looked to the side to check the reaction of the girl, pleased with himself. The star projector had been his present for Akiho's 17th birthday, but between study, book repairs and moving out to another country, they hadn't found a moment of quiet to put it in function. That perfect moment finally came this evening of December.
Of course he bought the most expensive model out there, and this one could even add sound effects to the experience, which he had set on sea waves through the remote control. The idea was "we're lying down on a deserted beach at night, in the early summer", instead of the chilling winter they were actually in.
"Kaito-san..." - Akiho moved her finger up in the air, "what constellation is that one?"
He had vaguely studied astronomy as part of his magic education, but he had forgotten a lot of it...for a moment he was tempted to use a magic spell, but then decided against it, not wanting to irritate the girl beside him. She always reprimanded him whenever he lazily tried to use his magic for the most mundane things. They hadn't found a cure for him yet, so she wanted him to keep the use of magic at the minimum, to avoid affecting his health. Therefore, he pulled himself up and went next to the star projector, changing the little disc with a different one.
The projection changed to a similar starry vault complete with the constellations map, and plopping down next to her, he said with a smile "Akiho-san, that seems to be Virgo!".
"Really?! That's my zodiac sign!!" Her brows furrowed for a moment, then "Indeed, with a bit of imagination that could look like a maiden...without a head". Kaito chuckled. "Wait, where's Pisces?"
Kaito checked the constellation map on his phone (which he had downloaded precisely for this occasion), and after a moment he indicated it, pointing his finger towards the ceiling. "Over there."
"....That one?! Oh....that looks more like a flower with two stems than actually two fishes, doesn't it?" she blurted out, laughing playfully.
"...Akiho-san..." Kaito couldn't help but chuckle again, reveling in the cheerfulness of his beloved. Nothing could send tingles to his heart like the sound of her laughter.
"Akiho-san...do you know the origin of your name?" "...My name?" "Your true one."
Akiho stared at him with curiosity, cheeks tinted slightly with a pink hue. The topic of their true names was usually off-limits. They didn't make a rule for it, but being both very well acquainted with the customs of the magic world, the unspoken agreement was to never bring them up...unless it was something serious.
"I was named after a flower, right?"
"Of course...but do you know why cosmos flowers were named that way?"
The girl stared at him, thinking for a moment about the question. She realized she never actually thought about why cosmos flowers bore that name. So, she shook her head slightly.
"Back in the 17th century, Spanish priests found the flowers in Mexico and cultivated them in their mission gardens."
He looked away from her, turning his gaze towards the starry sky.
"Originally, Kosmos is a Greek word that means 'order' or 'harmonious arrangement'. The priests were fascinated by those flowers' orderly arranged petals, they found them...." He paused.
"...Breathtakingly beautiful. And perfect." His eyes were now twinkling, still fixed on the firmament over their heads. "Just like the universe, the cosmos. So, they named those flowers after it."
Akiho's heartbeat quickened, and if she knew the man next to her well enough, his heart was doing just the same. They had spent enough time together for her to understand all too well what he was trying to say.
Kaito felt Akiho's hand searching for his, and they intertwined them silently.
"Thank you...I didn't know all of that. I've always thought that cosmos flowers were pretty, yes, but not particularly remarkable or unique... It is nice to know that the right people could see the true beauty and worth in them."
As if replying to her, she felt him squeezing her hand.
After a moment of silence, Akiho's right index finger moved up in the air once again. "Wait, what about that one? What is its name? It's big, but the stars don't look particularly bright"
"Hmm...Aquarius, apparently. This one would be basically impossible to see by naked eye, from an urban area."
Akiho made a face once again. "The water-bearer, hmmm... I can see his legs but...these constellations all seem to be missing their heads!", she blurted out, feigning annoyance.
Kaito couldn't hold it in, and burst out laughing, causing her to do the same.
Yes, she was just perfect the way she was.
☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
Kaito groggily opened his eyes in the dim light of the candles, ceiling still covered with stars. The clock of the living room showed it was 2 am.
Clinging onto his right arm, Akiho was soundly asleep next to him. Consciousness rapidly washed over him, remembering what happened.
Akiho's exploration of the starry vault had gone on for more than an hour, but at some point her remarks and answers had become more and more absentminded, till he realized she had actually fallen asleep. Smiling tenderly at her slumbering form, he was ready to pull himself up to go pick up a blanket for her, and eventually arrange some cushions for himself farther away from the camping mattress (he didn't want to wake her up, but didn't want to leave her sleeping alone in the living room either), but he had quickly realized with dismay that she had turned on the side and literally latched onto his right arm.
He had frozen right there and then. He didn't want to wake her up, but he had started to overthink as usual - this is not appropriate, we shouldn't sleep together, what if-- The result was that the stress made him incredibly sleepy, and after a few minutes of ruminations, Morpheus had taken a hold of him too.
Now that he was fully awake, he mentally scolded himself for falling asleep, and proceeded to do what he didn't have the heart to do before: slowly, slowly, he tried to disentangle his arm from Akiho's grip. When he managed to slip away, he rose to go pick that blanket up, because he couldn't risk for Akiho to catch a cold due to his imprudence.
"Where are you going?"
Her tone made him stop in his tracks immediately. Turning around, what he saw made his heart drop.
Akiho was propped on her elbow, staring in his direction but not quite focused on him. She was clearly still half asleep, but what ripped Kaito's heart apart was her expression, halfway between a scowl and wanting to break into tears.
It didn't take him long to understand why she had that expression. Even after 4 years, the trauma he had caused to her resurfaced sometimes in her dreams, upsetting her when she woke up.
"I'm just going to get a blanket.....I'm not going anywhere." he answered, while painfully making sure to emphasize the last part.
Akiho blinked her eyes twice, awareness coming back to her. Her expression slowly turned into one of realization, then she looked briefly to her side, panicking. "Oh my god, I'm sorry...I didn't fall asleep on you, did I? ...I didn't want to bother you-"
"You've never bothered me once, Akiho-san."
The girl stared at him, misty-eyed. His expression was kind, but tinged with guilt. His figure against the starry ceiling reminded her of that fateful night, when he fought his stubborness and the monsters inside his head to go back to her.
The girl casted her eyes down and to the side, pink hue emerging on her cheeks once again. "Then...once you took that blanket...could you...could you get back here next to me?" she said softly, finding the courage to look up once again.
Kaito had already understood long time ago that he was done for. He knew that no matter how much he tried, he would've never been able to refuse anything to those blue eyes of hers. Especially if he wanted it himself, in the first place.
They stared at eachother for a moment, before Kaito breathed out the air he was unwittingly holding and said with a smile "I'd be happy to, Akiho-san."
Akiho beamed at him, sure more than ever that there wasn't any place on this Earth or in the entire cosmos where she could've felt safer, other than next to him.
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