Date Headcanons

date headcanons

eita semi, hajime iwaizumi, keiji akaashi and kiyoomi sakusa

eita semi

⭑ dates with semi are just vibing !!!

⭑ ideal date would probably be just to peruse around a record shop discus your fave albums and songs

⭑ coffee break after shopping and you’d take cute pictures with your sweet treats and your silly trinkets

⭑ i think peoples posts with their snacks and their sonny angels or calico critters or smiskis are so cute

⭑ he’d repost it on his story if you posted your date with your trinkets on insta !!!

⭑ song on story is from the album you bought too !!

⭑ n then you’d go home n listen to whatever album you bought at the record shop and just chat while holding hands and being silly <3

hajime iwaizumi

⭑ proud filo iwa believer !!!!!!!

⭑ he’d take you out to get filipino food !!! loves eating his childhood favorites with you <3

⭑ he’d let you eat the last piece of lumpia 🙏

⭑ i see him wanting to take a walk around a local park either in a comfortable silence as you just enjoy the others company or just mindlessly chatting about each others days

⭑ he makes sure you get home safe !! asks you to text him when you get home and then responds with how much fun he’s had today with you <3

keiji akaashi

⭑ bookstore frequenter !!!!!!

⭑ if you’re not a reader he gets it!! he’ll prolly ask if you find certain books interesting and get them and read them and let you know if he liked it

⭑ definitely reads out his favorite books to you if you’d allow it !!!!

⭑ per bookstore date tradition you always get coffee and a snack to fuel you for your walk around the bookstore !!!

⭑ very relaxing, feels like it’s just the two of you there, which it probably is but… what more could a man ask for !!? books, coffee and his lovely partner !!

kiyoomi sakusa

⭑ locking pinkies > hand holding

⭑ or at least it’s like that to sakusa !!

⭑ this would be like at least once a month type of date !!

⭑ you both wake up early enough for you to go the farmers market and pick yo stuff to make lunch or dinner together!!!

⭑ very domestic and cute <3

⭑ sakusa likes the farmers market because he likes knowing where his food comes from and supporting local businesses !!!

⭑ it’s okay if you can’t cook, he’ll help even if it turns into him doing most of the work, he’s making a meal with you and fits for the both of you !!! it’s made with love <3

⭑ short but i think it’s cute !!! i was struck with inspiration at practice and was madly typing at my phone during my water break !!

⭑ sorry for the inactivity!!! i will find a healthy balance soon i just needed to get into the groove of school and figure out when i have downtime to wire <3

⭑ might do a pt.2 of this just lmk who you want in it !!!

good morning guys ❗❗🔥🔥🔥🗣️🗣️🗣️

PATTERN BANNERS | galaxy.

okey, I love this set so much, I’m so happy with it. I love all things space and stars and galaxy related. I have many colour sets coming so keep an eye out for those ! i really like what i did here ahahahah. 🤍🤍🤍

colours : 001 / 002 / 003 / 004 / 005 / 006 / 007 / 008 / 009

feel free to use; please like, reblog, and credit 〜

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playlists

a collection of my playlists for my fics <3

in step

❥ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒? ↳ 𝐰/ 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚, 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢, 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢, 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚, 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮, 𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 & 𝐎𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

a/n: reader is gn! back with my drabbles; i just love trying to convey a very specific mood or scene in 200 words or less, it's SO fun and challenging. i already have longer HQ fics drafted but those really help me getting a grasp of those chars (and i don't have to decide on only one boy because there's so many who have my whole heart heh). i hope you enjoy this boquet of sweets from me to you ♡ some additional thoughts at the end of this because apparently i have PLENTY ok bye

word count: 1.3k

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 scoffs softly. Of course he got you flowers. He would have bought everything inside the damn florist shop if you had enough space for it in your tiny apartment. This bouquet of wildflowers must do for now; it’s so huge, it makes you vanish behind it completely when he shoves it into your hands the second you open the door for him. He can hear you laugh in surprise and that is enough for him. A few minutes later you watch him from where he sat you down on the kitchen counter, rummaging around the cabinets and searching for a vessel that can serve as a vase because the ones you have are way too small for the size of this bouquet. Under his breath he mumbles something about how you stubbornly refuse to let him buy you a house already, one with endless fields of flowers surrounding it; then he wouldn’t have to waste his time searching for a vase big enough and could just kiss you in a sea of petals. You both know that it’s only a matter of time till that happens.

𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 doesn’t fully remember when this tradition started. Years ago, it must have been in high school, when you were down with a cold and he brought you your favorite snacks and a bundle of flowers from the conbini after school. They were nothing special, wrapped in plastic and close to wilting soon, the price tag still on, but he can never forget the ways your eyes lit up when he put them down on your bedside table. Your voice had been so hoarse that day, you barely managed to get a Thank You out, and Iwaizumi didn’t know what else to say either, so he just sat on your bed and held your hand till you dozed off again shortly after, leaving him with all those buzzing feelings inside of his chest. How many flowers has he bought you ever since, week after week? It must have been hundreds. How many times has he kissed you somewhen between bouquet 84 and 931? Countless times. He won’t stop doing either of that in this lifetime.

𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 is overthinking again. One finger rests on your doorbell, the other is nervously fidgeting with the wrapping paper. Should he have read more about the language of flowers before coming here? What if he accidentally picked some that actually say “let’s just be friends” or “I like you only mediocrely” and not “you’re the light and love of my life, and my heart has never been fuller ever since you claimed it as yours, please will you be mine forever–in this life and each one that comes after that, beloved”? His hand clenches around the bouquet and he’s one heartbeat away from turning around on the doorstep and walking back to the flower shop, when you open the door smiling, so bright that Akaashi thinks he must have walked into the burning sun. Your fingers brush over his when you reach for the flowers, and he doesn’t register the words coming out of his mouth at this moment, his mind clouded by the thought of what your future wedding bouquet will look like. He will do some research for that later tonight, after giving you a hundred kisses. 

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 laughs quietly when he opens his mailbox in Animal Crossing. You sent him the Hello Kitty items, including the matching hat and dress for him to wear next time you stream together, paired with a sweet love note that he immediately saves to his favorites. Needless to say that he keeps all of them. Under the thick blanket you (wearing one of his sweaters) rub your cold feet against his, and giggle next to him when you unwrap the flowers he sent you in-game. Lying on top of both of you is your cat named Apple Pie, who purrs and makes biscuits, ensuring neither of you would be able to get up anytime soon. You mentioned once how you liked the in-game flowers better than real ones, because it made you sad to see cut flowers wilt and wither over time and the pixel ones would stay like this forever–just like the two of you, hopefully. Kenma leans down to press a kiss to the side of your neck and wonders briefly how he managed to get so lucky. If he had the magic power to freeze time, he would, but until he levels up he will keep you in his arms like this for a little longer. 

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 is looking proud of himself when he puts your plate on the counter and nudges it towards you. The three onigiri on it are decorated with tiny edible flowers, and your loud complaints about how they’re too pretty to be eaten make him laugh. So are you, and yet he still gets to devour you night after night. You look so ravishing, taking photos of your food from every possible angle to post them on your food blog later, with your tongue poking out between your lips like it always does when you’re focused. Osamu thinks that out of every person in the whole world, he must be the luckiest of them all because only he gets to call you his. He doesn’t have it in him to tell you to hurry and eat up already, knowing there’s some things you just can’t rush–food, love. The latter he learned from you and your incredible patience, and how you molded his heart into the shape of you with time, with gentle hands and stolen kisses, till he was all yours, only yours. 

𝐁𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 nearly drops the flowers in fist when he fumbles for his keys, his sports bag almost sliding off his shoulders, one shoe untied. It’s messy, but he can’t wait to see you. You’re probably asleep by now, sprawled out on the couch with the remote still in your hand, re-playing his game on repeat. Seeing you cry earlier because you couldn’t go to watch him play in person broke his heart a little; he simply hates seeing you upset like this (and maybe it was also on him for telling you the leftovers in the fridge were probably still good to eat). He doesn’t flick the lights on, just walks straight over to the couch, a big hand brushing strands of hair out of your sleeping face. No feeling in the world can compare to you nuzzling your face into his palm and mumbling out his name drowsily. Bokuto drops the bundle of dandelions he picked on his way home into your nearly empty water glass on the table before carefully scooping you up in his arms, carrying you back to bed. For once he’ll be the big spoon tonight, making sure you sleep safe and sound. 

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 insists on facetiming you, even if it’s 2AM for him and you’re still jetlagged, being back in Japan after visiting him in Argentina. By now you’ve found all the little notes he left in your luggage, hidden between your shirts, souvenirs and in your toiletry bag, but there’s still one surprise left now that you’re back home (even though home is when you’re with him, but whatever). You’re busy complaining about the horrid traffic and your shitty boss and Oikawa barely listens, mesmerized by your face and the sound of your voice, and thinking about the ring he’s gonna put on your finger soon. On his screen you look up when your doorbell rings and the camera gets a little shaky when you rise to your feet, opening the door to the delivery of a bouquet of your favorite flowers, so big you struggle to grab it with one hand. For a bit all Oikawa can see is blossoms in the brightest colors and can only hear your surprised laughter, along with some curses because how dare he be so sweet when he’s an ocean apart where you can’t kiss him right now. Soon, he’ll be there again soon.

❥ 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭…

i REALLY like old money Omi who just wants to spend all his money on you but also kinda enjoys the cramped little apartment you live in. it feels like a bit of a cave and he likes that there's only room for both of you in there

Hajime childhood friends to lovers trope my beloved. how long it must have took you both to sort out your feelings for each other, one boquet at a time

i think Akaashi would write the best love letters

Kenma bullies ugly villagers off his AC island and he's really good at terraforming and will help you out with your island (this is based on me being terrible at terraforming and giving up after ten minutes)

Osamu and you started off as enemies to lovers because you left a bad review about Onigiri Miya once and so he invited you over to prove you wrong, and you fell in love one bite at a time (i really wanna write a SMAU on this but idk if i can pull this off, so if someone wants to grab this idea let me know so i can kiss you)

LITTLE SPOON BOKUTO AGENDA 🗣️ listen just imagine snuggling against this broad back, kissing the back of his neck, his butt wiggling as he gets comfy...

Oikawa idk what to say. i love him dearly but he feels the hardest to write to me

wouldn't it be nice 𓇼 semi e. x reader

prologue: promises

warnings: angst. very brief mention of divorce (will not be a part of the story at all), brief mention of pet death

𓇼 sounds like: surfer girl, the beach boys

prev. / mlist. / next

If you know one thing about Semi Eita, it’s that he makes a lot of promises. Growing up constantly nipping at each other's heels, you learned that keeping them was a different matter. 

At 7, you got your first board. The world was opened to you, like seeing colors for the first time. The air felt cleaner, water felt warmer, life had a new purpose. 

At 8, you got bullied off your first wave. Naturally, you didn’t take it well. The new boy didn’t seem that frazzled. He promised that he would steal every wave you ever had.

At 10, you placed above your arch rival in the little surfers league, and couldn’t wipe the grin off your face all night as your families celebrated over dinner. He promised that you would pay for this.

At 12, Semi showed you a new trick he learned and you had to blame your flustered and breathless expression on the sun glare. He promised to show you how to do it one day.

At 13, you overheard the older girls talking about their boyfriends, and you started compiling notes. He made you promise that you’d never talk about boy stuff with him. 

And then at 14, right when you’ve got everything figured out, failed promises all come barreling at you and knock you flat on your feet.

The door handle creaks open impossibly slowly, and you hold your breath so that the door won’t squeak. Prying it open with your shoulder, you manage to get just enough space where you can slip out, finally breathing once you’re outside. 

“Come on!” 

A not-so-quiet voice hisses out from behind the sea oats lining your porch, and you can clearly make out the light brown eyes blinking up at you.

“One. Second!” you hiss back through gritted teeth, and a bright white grin materializes under the eyes. 

You slowly click the door back into place, heart skipping a beat when the lock snaps back, but when no one stirs you turn quickly on your heel and jump into the sand below. 

“That took you long enough! We agreed to meet at 10, remember?” You can tell Semi’s not that mad due to the lack of bite in his words, so you sneer in response and yank him away from the front door.

He wrestles away from your grip, cackling louder when you try and cover his mouth. The two of you are a sight to behold, a tangle of limbs racing around each other in the dead of night. This is how it’s always been, ever since he moved here.

Born from a ‘healthy’ rivalry, Eita became your counterpart in every sense of the word. You could never be found without the other, even going as far as scheduling your surfing lessons back to back so that the other could heckle from the sand. It’s always been you and him, and you couldn’t imagine what your life would be like now if you hadn’t met him.

He escapes your grip completely, turning and sprinting down towards the waves where his board lays waiting. You scowl, not wanting to get left behind and take off towards your board, tragically in the other direction.

As you’re tugging at the ankle strap to pop loose from behind the wood where it’s wedged, you hear the tell-tale sign of Semi beating you, his board landing with a loud splash into the water.

When you pivot, hoping that your ears are misleading you, you’re met instead with those eyes staring back at you in triumph. The same ones who have recently made you start breathing a bit shallower, knees just barely giving way.

Crushing on Semi was a development you should have seen coming. Your mom has been teasing you about it relentlessly, giving you a knowing look every morning when he knocks on your door to pick you up for the day. 

The two of you being together feels inevitable. You just happened to come to that realization first, which makes sense. You heard the older girls saying that boys aren’t nearly as mature as we are, so of course Semi isn’t as mature as you. You just needed to ‘show him what he’s missing.’ 

You have yet to figure out what they meant by that. 

Finally freeing the ankle strap, you lug the board under your arm and take off towards the water, no longer caring about the noise you might be making to wake your mom up. All that matters right now is the cool night breeze filling your lungs, and the boy waiting for you. 

Once you take to the waves, everything feels right with the world. The warm water of the island carcasses your hand with every push you make through the water, the moon full and bright ahead of you.

You pull yourself up to sit atop your board, finally caught up with Semi. You take a moment to admire him in the soft moonlight, noticing how the moon seems to pool in his eyes.

He catches you staring and pulls a face, which makes your face warm. Somewhat embarrassed, somewhat even more attracted to him despite his dumb expression. 

Tonight is a good night, you notice, to execute your plan. The ultimate plan to make Semi Eita realize he loves you and give you your first kiss.

You quietly paddle closer to him, letting your board bump into his and your legs to follow. Very subtle.

You just barely make contact with him before he pushes your board away, sending you spinning the other direction. You yelp, not expecting the movement and he cackles again. 

You should’ve known he would misread that. Maturity, you remind yourself. You’ll just need to be a bit more forward.

You paddle back, smacking his hand away when he tries to get you again. The feeling of your fingers on his hand makes it burn so you pull back quickly. 

You figure it must have been uncharacteristically so, because Semi quits his teasing.

“Sorry, are you okay?”

You hurriedly wave him off, trying to show that he’s not affecting you as much as he is.

“Yeah. Just not trying to get tipped.”

Mentioning that might have been a mistake, as his eyes take on their familiar mischievous glint. You start to panic, preparing to paddle away the second he makes a move.

But to your surprise, when he grabs the nose of your surfboard he doesn't tip you. He tugs it closer to him, bringing your bodies closer together.

You still nearly topple, not expecting forward movement, and your hands slip as they give way beneath you.

You’re lying on your back now, and decide to stay here. It's easier not having to look at him sometimes. He’s starting to overwhelm you at every turn.

“Hey. Sit up.”

“No.” You let your fingers flow back and forth in the water, enjoying the lapping it makes against your board. 

“I’m trying to talk to you.” Another tug at your board, until he’s in your line of sight.

The two of you share a saccharine grin, knowing how stupid you’re being. “What do you think we’re doing?” 

“Fine.” He mumbles, looking up and away from you, staring at something distant on the coast. “I don’t want to talk to you anyways.”

Your laugh is clear and bright, echoing along the quiet water. He smiles down at you again with a glance from the corner of his eye and your heart does a treacherous flip. 

There’s a moment of stillness after that, only sound to be heard is the soft rumble of the waves on the shore.

“Why did you invite me out tonight?”

Night surfing had become a tradition for the two of you when something serious needed to happen. You were never good at confronting the other, but sitting together in the water, letting the current take you every which way provided a space where you could.

Your first excursion into the night sea was when Semi was upset that you beat him at the little surfer leagues finals. You caught him sitting out there alone, and went out to comfort him. He flipped your board in pure spite at one point, but by the end of the night he was smiling again.

It evolved into where you would go when you had disagreements; when he broke your moms plate and let you take the blame, when you punched him so hard you made him cry. 

Then to a place of somberness. When his pet turtle died. When your dad left. 

Then back to anger; when he found out you liked a guy. “There’s no time for things like that.” He had chastised, shaking you around by the shoulders. “We have so much time left to be cool!”

Now, night surfing was anything you needed it to be. Sometimes you two would paddle out and say nothing, just needing to be in the other's company.

“Oh. Right.”

Semi suddenly looks scared, eyes darting around, looking anywhere but you. 

“I had something I needed to tell you.”

Your eyes widen, in momentary shock and fear. A thousand things start running through your head, the most dangerous of them all being what you had set out here tonight to do. Your heart rate starts to kick up, throat threatening to close. You sit, leaning in closer and watch him intently.

“Okay. I have something to tell you too.” If he was about to confess then obviously you would reciprocate. 

He gestures at you to finish what you were saying, effectively skipping over him.

Still attempting not to panic, you kick at his feet, feigning nonchalance. “You’re going first, obviously.”

He opens his mouth to retort, then shuts it. A nervous sigh. 

“Yeah, I was planning on it. You distracted me.” He grumbles under his breath, clearly annoyed he lost his edge. You’re trying not to burst from excitement. 

“So… god this is hard.” He lets out a strained laugh.

“I’m moving.”

Your vision goes black. The water rapidly filling your lungs makes it impossible to breathe, bubbling up and up until it spills out of your eyes. Ragged gasps leave you, trying not to break into sobs as your world gets turned on its head.

So, not only does Semi not like you. He’s leaving you for good. Your counterpart is being torn away from you with nothing you can do about it. The pain in your chest starts to spread to your arms, threatening to overtake you.

“Why?” The question is barely audible, your throat scratchy and choked.

“My parents want me to go inland for school. I guess they’re not happy with ours anymore.”

“For school? Does that mean you can come back in the summer?” 

He shakes his head solemnly, and the broken fragments of your heart shatter open even further. Maybe if you stop asking questions, they won’t come true.

“They said until university at least. Probably later though.” 

“Oh.”

He sits petulantly, kicking his feet around in the waves instead of stomping his feet. Your tears have hardly subsided. 

“That sucks,” is all you can manage to say. Not while your heart, hopes, and dreams are all disintegrating in front of you.

“Yeah. I’m gonna miss you so much.”

He says this as if it’s not obvious, which somehow makes it hurt worse. He needed you to know that, when right now you're wishing he didn't care about you at all. That would be easier than this.

All is quiet for a moment, just the soft crashing of the surf and the drips of your tears onto the plastic of your board. When Semi hears that, he pulls your board impossibly closer to him.

And he places a shaky hand on your shoulder, bringing your watery gaze up to his. A small spark emerges in the ash in your chest as you think, for however fleeting a moment, that maybe he’ll kiss you anyway. But he tucks your head to his shoulder, letting you cry all over his shirt and the flame is smothered once more.

He holds you while you cry, dropping a couple tears of his own. They roll down between your shoulder blades, leaving a scorching path in their wake.

And then, as if he couldn’t break you enough, he helps you out of the ocean with a lend of a hand and holds on as he walks you back to your home.

His hand feels perfect in yours. Two jagged edges sliding together just so, smoothing everything else out around them. He’s warm and rough and rubbing his thumb across yours and ruining your life with every pass.

“Oh.” He remembers, tugging at your hand to get you to stop. “You had something you wanted to tell me?” 

You wonder how many times a heart can physically break before you collapse to your knees. You must be rapidly approaching that number.

“I can’t remember now. It probably wasn’t important.” Your voice threatens to give out but you soldier through it all, giving a soft, pathetic smile to seal the deal.

“Okay. If you think of it.” He whispers back, noting your quiet tone and probably thinking you don’t want to wake your mom. When all you want to do is not let him leave you.

You both walk up to your porch in silence, soaking up the last moments you have with the boy who might be the love of your life.

He squeezes your hand twice, your lucky signal, and the tears come back. You have to drop his hand, but you regret it the moment you do. The feeling too final for your comfort.

Leaving the broken pieces of your heart on your front porch, you turn away towards the door.

You stop after a second of slowly turning the handle, hearing a strained whisper of your name.

Semi’s back in the sea oats, looking up at you with those treacherous eyes, more watery than they had been before.

“We’ll still be best friends. I promise.” 

And his eyes are so sincere, his words so hopeful, that despite all you've learned from knowing Semi Eita for 6 years, you believe him.

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