Osamu - Tumblr Posts
I had a dream where yuma kuga himself warped into existence at the foot of my bed. He called me a "motherfucker", then dissolved into the moonlight.
The Way You Don’t Love Me -Miya Atsumu
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A/N: Fun fact! This was actually originally a Yoongi fic but I decided to make it for Atsumu. The original work is quite a bit shorter than this, so if you want to see the Yoongi version let me know! It’s not all that different from this
Warnigns: N/A
Genre: angst (reference to smut)
Pairing: Timeskip!Atsumu x reader
Main Masterlist
pt.2 pt.3 pt.3.1
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Maybe it was the way he stopped answering his phone every time you called or ignored your texts. Maybe it was the way he emotionlessly said hi to you when he came home from work. Maybe it was the way he repeatedly missed dates for work. Maybe it was the way his face lit up when the boys mentioned their new manager. Maybe it was the way he didn’t love you anymore.
You and Atsumuhave been together since high school, and whereas you felt your feelings evolve as you grew older, it seems that Atsumu grew out of the,. You always thought you were enough for him, but Atsumu was always changing, always wanting more out of life. It just never crossed your mind that that could mean you too.
The worst part of all of this that you know Atsumu would never in his right mind cheat on you. But his heart really did have a mind of its own. So as much as you want to kick and scream at him for letting you love him all alone, you couldn’t. You couldn’t fault him for you not being enough. At least that’s how you felt.
And while his heart moved on to someone new, yours stayed dependable, still loving and longing for him like you always did.
Keep reading
The Way You Don’t Love Me -Miya Atsumu
__________________________________________________
A/N: Fun fact! This was actually originally a Yoongi fic but I decided to make it for Atsumu. The original work is quite a bit shorter than this, so if you want to see the Yoongi version let me know! It’s not all that different from this
Warnigns: N/A
Genre: angst (reference to smut)
Pairing: Timeskip!Atsumu x reader
Main Masterlist
pt.2 pt.3 pt.3.1
__________________________________________________
Maybe it was the way he stopped answering his phone every time you called or ignored your texts. Maybe it was the way he emotionlessly said hi to you when he came home from work. Maybe it was the way he repeatedly missed dates for work. Maybe it was the way his face lit up when the boys mentioned their new manager. Maybe it was the way he didn’t love you anymore.
You and Atsumuhave been together since high school, and whereas you felt your feelings evolve as you grew older, it seems that Atsumu grew out of the,. You always thought you were enough for him, but Atsumu was always changing, always wanting more out of life. It just never crossed your mind that that could mean you too.
The worst part of all of this that you know Atsumu would never in his right mind cheat on you. But his heart really did have a mind of its own. So as much as you want to kick and scream at him for letting you love him all alone, you couldn’t. You couldn’t fault him for you not being enough. At least that’s how you felt.
And while his heart moved on to someone new, yours stayed dependable, still loving and longing for him like you always did.
Keep reading
The Way You Don’t Love Me -Miya Atsumu
__________________________________________________
A/N: Fun fact! This was actually originally a Yoongi fic but I decided to make it for Atsumu. The original work is quite a bit shorter than this, so if you want to see the Yoongi version let me know! It’s not all that different from this
Warnigns: N/A
Genre: angst (reference to smut)
Pairing: Timeskip!Atsumu x reader
Main Masterlist
pt.2 pt.3 pt.3.1
__________________________________________________
Maybe it was the way he stopped answering his phone every time you called or ignored your texts. Maybe it was the way he emotionlessly said hi to you when he came home from work. Maybe it was the way he repeatedly missed dates for work. Maybe it was the way his face lit up when the boys mentioned their new manager. Maybe it was the way he didn’t love you anymore.
You and Atsumuhave been together since high school, and whereas you felt your feelings evolve as you grew older, it seems that Atsumu grew out of the,. You always thought you were enough for him, but Atsumu was always changing, always wanting more out of life. It just never crossed your mind that that could mean you too.
The worst part of all of this that you know Atsumu would never in his right mind cheat on you. But his heart really did have a mind of its own. So as much as you want to kick and scream at him for letting you love him all alone, you couldn’t. You couldn’t fault him for you not being enough. At least that’s how you felt.
And while his heart moved on to someone new, yours stayed dependable, still loving and longing for him like you always did.
Keep reading
The Way You Don’t Love Me -Miya Atsumu
__________________________________________________
A/N: Fun fact! This was actually originally a Yoongi fic but I decided to make it for Atsumu. The original work is quite a bit shorter than this, so if you want to see the Yoongi version let me know! It’s not all that different from this
Warnigns: N/A
Genre: angst (reference to smut)
Pairing: Timeskip!Atsumu x reader
Main Masterlist
pt.2 pt.3 pt.3.1
__________________________________________________
Maybe it was the way he stopped answering his phone every time you called or ignored your texts. Maybe it was the way he emotionlessly said hi to you when he came home from work. Maybe it was the way he repeatedly missed dates for work. Maybe it was the way his face lit up when the boys mentioned their new manager. Maybe it was the way he didn’t love you anymore.
You and Atsumuhave been together since high school, and whereas you felt your feelings evolve as you grew older, it seems that Atsumu grew out of the,. You always thought you were enough for him, but Atsumu was always changing, always wanting more out of life. It just never crossed your mind that that could mean you too.
The worst part of all of this that you know Atsumu would never in his right mind cheat on you. But his heart really did have a mind of its own. So as much as you want to kick and scream at him for letting you love him all alone, you couldn’t. You couldn’t fault him for you not being enough. At least that’s how you felt.
And while his heart moved on to someone new, yours stayed dependable, still loving and longing for him like you always did.
Keep reading
i like serene 15skk and i think we need more of it
Dazai Osamu~
God!! How does Tumblr work ヽ（≧□≦）ノ ?!!
I just wanted to come and publish my drawings and I spent half an hour trying to publish this (╬▔皿▔)╯
Anywayyyyyyy, I hope at least someone sees my art, I don't want to die ignored (≧ ﹏ ≦)
Social Media ~(￣▽￣)~*:
Deviant Art: https://www.deviantart.com/cut3k111tty
Insta: https://www.instagram.com/cut3k11tty./
┊PASILYO┊˚✧
┊ONE SHOT┊DAZAI OSAMU X GN!READER┊
words: 1,941
unrequested
additional/warnings: ooc (?), cringe, nausea, mentions of throwing up (light), minor swearing typical Dazai suicide mentions (light), public display of affection, and uhh kising
Happy birthday to my glorious princess, y'all 🗣️‼️
Rays of sunshine outlined the furniture of the Armed Detective Agency. Dazai was at his desk, folding origami when he was supposed to be doing a report. It was one of those quieter days in the office, a rare day where there weren’t many cases to finish.
A buzz from his pocket. Dazai checked the notification, reading a message from none other than you.
|[Nickname]: sneak outside 🙏|
And they say he’s a bad influence…
———
Standing outside the building, you wait for him. It was the perfect weather, the sun decided to be warm—and not in the way where it’s painfully hot to the point that just a short walk would leave someone sweating.
“[Name]!” you easily spot the familiar caramel coat through the small crowd, Dazai happily escaping work to join you. “I got your message,” he remarked, walking until he’s right next to you.
“Happy birthday,”
A beautiful bouquet of flowers entered his field of view, forget-me-nots wrapped in a beautiful light blue. A silk white ribbon tied the thing together, a gift looking alike to the summer sky.
What’s next was a pretty sight, flushed cheeks and a surprised detective. Dazai couldn’t help but go speechless, not one to be used to affection. You almost wanted to tease him about it, but decided not to, showing a twinge of mercy upon the man.
“Hey… Earth to Osamu?” he snapped out of his daze, feeling you tug on his sleeve.
“Ah– uhm,” he makes a poor attempt to cover his embarrassing reaction, covering his face with a hand. It was fun to make him flustered, a feeling you rarely see him have. “Thank you…?”
You scoff at that dry reply, placing the bouquet on his hands before tugging his sleeve again, starting to pull him somewhere. “Come on, I’m spoiling you today, so we better start early if you wanna make the most of it.”
Dazai followed after you, letting you drag him on. It took a while, but he came back to his senses, a soft expression gracing his face at your words. “Really?” he asked, almost tauntingly as he tried to get a specific answer out from you.
“Yeah, yeah,” you answered, walking slower so that you’re side by side. “Whatever you want,” you say, looking at the pathway ahead as you barely conceal the smile on your lips.
“Whatever I want?” a cheeky grin. “Even a double suic–?”
“Anything but that,” you cut him off, turning your head just to see him laughing softly, slightly covering his face with the blue flowers.
The soft appearance of genuine happiness is a great look on your lover.
———
“Let’s try that one again!”
The sheer look of horror on your face was picture worthy. Dazai decided that the perfect way to spend his birthday was to try the roller coasters having motion sickness written all over it. “God, no.”
Sure, you did suggest going to the amusement park, but these aren’t the rides you expected to go to. Dazai was milking everything out of this opportunity, trying out every single attraction in the park but the calm ones.
How many times have you gone to the same roller coaster, now? Thrice? Four times? That drop still gets you. “How the fuck are you not even dizzy…?” you ask, sitting down on a bench to collect yourself
Dazai was laughing at your predicament, earning a glare from you. “Fine, fine, we’ll take a break from the rides,” finally some mercy on your nauseous self.
You sigh, before hunching over slowly, seeing black in the corners of your vision. “Fuck, I think I’m throwing up.” a pat on your back, but the brunet’s not very discreet giggles made it feel like it didn’t help at all.
Luckily, you didn’t start vomiting. You ended up buying him lunch despite his claims of not being hungry, making him sit down on a shaded table to eat. The park had a few food stalls around, so you two had plenty of choices to pick from.
His eyes scanned the selection of food stalls before his gaze landed on one. He perks up a little, tugging on your hand to get your attention. “Hey, let’s get takoyaki.”
You nodded, holding his hand as you went to the food stall, buying him the food he wanted before buying food for yourself. Dazai of course just had to steal your food, taking bits and bites here and there. You didn’t mind… mostly.
“... If you’re gonna end up eating my fries anyway, why didn’t you just buy some?” you ask, as he stole another bite with a shrug. You could only brush it off, wanting to get it over with so you could make most of your time here.
“Because stealing yours tastes better,” he replied, a terrible excuse. A mischievous glint can be seen shining in his brown eyes as his fingers stole another one, not even hiding it at this point now that you pointed it out.
You gave a sigh of defeat, letting him steal as much food as he desires. It was a quick snack break, before you two continued your little birthday celebration, so you just let it pass.
The sun was already shining right above you when you finally got back on your feet, fully recovered to try more attractions. His hand had found yours, as you looked for more things to try out. Dazai’s eyes found themselves following the path of the ferris wheel, the sight of it catching his eye.
Slow, scenic, peaceful—the complete opposite of the previous rides you two have gone on. A grin appeared on Dazai’s face, and he tugged on your hand, pulling you towards the entrance to the ride. “Let’s go on that one,” he says, a hint of eagerness in his voice.
You couldn't help but let out a breath of relief, seeing that he finally chose a calmer ride. The procedure to enter was short, buying a ticket, going in line, before entering the ride.
The gondola was simple, the sleek white car fitting the both of you on one side perfectly. It was slow and gentle, moving bit by bit as it got turned higher into the sky. “Much better than those adrenaline-fuelling ones, huh?” he mentioned, looking at you through his peripherals.
“Yes, actually. At least we can actually converse instead of screaming our lungs out,” you retort, turning from looking out the large windows to him, meeting his gaze with your own.
Dazai held in the laugh settling in his throat, shamelessly seeking your hand to hold again. He loved the contact. “You’re the one screaming out of fear, though,” he pointed out, pulling himself closer to you.
You roll your eyes, allowing him to be as close as he wants—as close as he needs. It took a while, but your capsule eventually reached the top of the circle, getting the highest view.
The brunet decided that you were a headrest at the moment, leaning his head on you before turning to the window on his side, slowly falling silent.
This was what you hoped you could distract him from. That faraway look was in his brown eyes as he looked at something long gone. It was another year. Another year without him, another year he'll slowly grow older than he could ever get.
Another year, and this time, he'll remember him longer than he's known him.
The view outside the windows was breathtakingly beautiful. Yokohama in clear view to both of you. From high-rising buildings to the crystal lake near the park, everything was graced with the warm afternoon light. Yet those brown eyes couldn't find the same warmth you could.
That solemn longing was a look you didn't want to see him make today. You wished his mind wouldn't have to think like this just for a day. Just for a moment. Just for now.
So, you nudge his leg with yours, earning his attention. “You wanna get crab later?” you ask when he turned to look at you, hands on his to hold. You'll distract him for as long as needed. You'll keep him away from those thoughts and bring the warmth he needed on a day he would otherwise hate.
Dazai turned around, snapping out of his train of thought at hearing your question. A smile stretched on his face, grip lightly tightening on your hand. “Of course the answer is yes,” he answered.
At least he doesn't look so solemn now. You subconsciously bring a hand up, brushing a strand of his dark brown hair behind his ear, your touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Way longer, actually.
“...touchy today, hm?” he teased, a cover up to him growing flustered under your affection. “What, can't keep your hands to yourself?”
“Don’t even start,” you reply with a threatening edge. Dazai raised his hand in surrender, keeping his silence with a cheeky smirk.
———
Crisp wind blew on your hair, you closed the door behind you in a rush. “Slow down, we just ran up a bunch of stairs–” you gasp out, out of breath as Dazai dragged you to a rooftop. The Agency building's rooftop.
The brunet only chuckled at your reaction, stopping to let you catch your breath. “Alright, alright! We're here anyway.”
You take a deep breath in, the air finally getting in your lungs properly. “We’re here early, you didn't have to– you did not have to drag me and run all the way up,” you groan, wheezing in suffering.
The sun was almost setting, hanging just above the horizon. You two wanted to catch the sunset, deciding that this is the best spot to watch as it settles down the city skyline.
Dazai held your hand, tugging you along to the edge of the building. “This would be a romantic time to die,” *he remarked, making you deadpan.
“Nuh uh,” you retorted, looking at his steps just a little more cautiously in case he decided to swan dive over the edge. “Would be a great time to watch the sunset though.”
As you said that, Dazai looked up, catching the way the skies were painted in pink and orange hues. It was an ethereal scene—one that should be painted to preserve.
You glance to the man beside you, seeing him gaze off into the sunset. It wasn't a lie that he was pretty, with how the sun outlined every feature on his face, basking him in a warm light.
“You’re staring,” he hummed, brown eyes glancing at you, already prepared to send a barrage of teases for catching you in the act.
Confessing you were was the only way out, then. You let out a scoff, the sound half a chuckle. “Yeah,” he turned to you, the sun leaving its last trails of warmth before letting the moon reign in the sky. “Happy birthday.”
Dazai smiled, a soft look on him. “Shouldn’t I get a present?” he asked, leaning towards you with a hint of what he wants. The brunet reached for your hand, pulling them to cup his cheeks.
A fleeting kiss, before another, dragging him closer to press your lips on his. You could feel how the warmth spreads to his face under your touch, feel how he smiles against each kiss.
You hear him giggle, leaning back just enough to speak, still holding his face. “More?”
“More,” he nodded, feeling giddy with each touch. Just for the moment, he felt that life was worth living. You pull him closer, resting your forehead on his.
“Whatever you want.”
divider credit: @/cafekitsune
No match - Atsumu Miya
Atsumu is a simple man, even with a tunnel vision for volleyball, he did think about others. He thought about his twin when he saw an ugly character on the back of the comics you read. Atsumu thought of his mom when he saw you cook for him, thinking back to the time he brought you to meet his mom the first time on Christmas, a few years back. As soon as December rolled around, Atsumu would already be drooling for the cookies you and his mum baked on Christmas every year since.
He has always been big on Christmas, receiving gifts, food, cookies and throwing you in the picture, and it becomes even better than it has been. Now that Atsumu was older, one responsibility that he had as someone who earned his own money was buying gifts for his family and friends.
To say, Atsumu was good at thinking of gifts would be a lie. He was absolutely uncreative when it came to gifts, he would buy everyone the same gifts every year if it wasn’t for you. He loved every single minute of Christmas shopping with you.
The blurred golden glow from the lights that hung from the trees by the sidewalk, under the giant Christmas tree that stood tall in the center of the street, Atsumu couldn’t help his heart from swelling up in the happiness he felt in that single moment. He couldn’t have seen a sight prettier than you in the Christmas lights, soft white snow falling on your head while your cheeks and nose blushed red from the cold weather, laughter tipping from your lips. At that moment, he couldn’t hear anything but the giggle that left your lips and the jingle that the kids sang around him.
Pulling your beanie higher on your head, Atsumu crouched, pressing a kiss on your forehead fondly. The laugh that he started was from his suggestion to buy his twin brother an ugly sweater because;
“Samu, can suck it up and take it or leave it, I don’t care, I am gifting his ugly ass an ugly sweater to match ugliness, tho it won’t be any match for his level”
And so, began the search for an “ugly sweater to match samu’s level of ugliness” or so he thought.
“Pooh, look, we HAVE to buy this”
“‘Sumu, we were looking for a gift for samu, it’s already getting late, let’s speed this up”
“But–”
Atsumu knew exactly how to convince you to buy these couple sweaters. As you dragged him away from the rack which held the sweaters he wanted, Atsumu knew to have his eyes stuck on them, staring longingly with tears sitting on his waterline.
“Pooh, but what about us, we don’t wanna look ugly like samu” He forced you to look at his eyes glistening with tears.
“Just — yeah, whatever. We can get them” you said, rubbing your temples to express your annoyance even with the smile growing on your face as he grabbed your face, showering your cool skin with warm fleeting kisses to show his appreciation.
Atsumu was basically vibrating with happiness while he paid for his sweaters, hanging from your shoulder with his arms draped over your form that he was back hugging, insisting that he was doing his boyfriend duties of keeping you warm. Heading home with Atsumu still hanging from your shoulders was something. While you appreciated your boyfriend’s warmth, you would still prefer his boisterous laugh not being directed straight to your sensitive ears.
Being whipped for his girlfriend had its own disadvantages. The same night, he fell asleep in your arms, totally forgetting the gift he set out to buy for his brother. Waking the next morning as he gloated in love and the cold snow, it still had set in that was missing a gift for his brother and instead of reminding you the same when he did remember, he sneakingly wrote his name beside yours on the gift you had planned for his brother.
“Sumu, do you have all the gifts in the car?” you said, pulling over the sweater Sumu had bought from yesterday.
“Uh, yeah, yeah, I counted them too, don’t worry” he said, tugging his sleeves impatiently.
“Pooh, let’s head over already, ‘wanna have your cookies” he continued while resting his chin on your shoulder, tired from all the late night packing.
“MA, ‘SUMU FORGET TO BUY ME A GIFT AND WROTE HIS NAME ON HIS GIRLFRIEND’S GIFT FOR ME”
“YOU UNGRATEFUL SCRUB, I DIDN’T FORGET, I JUST —- I JUST DIDN’T WANT TO BUY YOU ANYTHING AND ALSO WHATEVER MY GIRL BRINGS IS ALSO FROM ME”
“THAT IS NOT HOW IT WORKS AND IF SO THEN, FINE I’LL KEEP THE GIFT I BOUGHT YOU THEN”
“WHAT?? YOU DON’T GET TO DO THAT, BABE, say something”
“Good going ‘Samu” you said, fist bumping Samu while your boyfriend whined to his mom about his girlfriend being unfair.
“BTW, ‘Sumu You’re banned from Onigiri Miya for the next whole year” Samu said, draping an arm around your shoulder, directing you towards the kitchen.
“YAH, ‘SAMU THAT’S MY GIRL” He said, stomping his steps, smiling softly at the view of you in the kitchen with his mum and brother, icing on your fingers as you offered him some.
Atsumu was a simple man, he thought as he licked the icing off your finger, his mood immediately brighter. His Christmas never ran smoothly, but with you here in the lights always shone brighter, the laughter louder and the days lasted longer. He was glad he could shop for Christmas with someone, although in the end he always ends up buying things for himself, and you, buy gifts for him to give. Samu was lucky he received the gift you bought for him instead of an ugly gift like himself because surely there was no match for “Samu’s ugliness”.
Prompt list:
1. "U don't love me do you? "
2. "Just take my hoodie will you?"
3. "Move a little closer so i can breathe u in, wrapped in this enclosure, how long has it been? "
4. "I think I love you, is that okay? "
5. "I hate you, I am sorry it took so long to realize"
6." It's not a date? "
7. "I told to distract them not feel them up! "
8. " You're sleeping with me tonight."
9. " Shut up and kiss me asshole, I'm lightheaded"
10. "I never stopped loving you, even when it didn't make sense anymore"
Please send ask, using the prompts and a character of your choice. I will bbe writing only for haikyuu, my hero academia and bts (if anyone wants that is) I would love to write you something so please send an ask or just dropped by and rant if u feel like it, I am open for everything u wanna say.
I JUST PUT ON LIP GLOSS
req
character/s: tsukishima kei x f!reader, iwaizumi hajime x f!reader, miya osamu x f!reader
genre/s: fluff
warning/s: none
gwen’s notes 🤍: not proofread. currently experiencing miya osamu brain rot.
MASTERLIST | TAGLIST
tsukishima kei is petty. so when you reel back from his kiss, he instantly frowns with an eyebrow raised and a look of disbelief. how dare you shy away from his kiss? you laugh dismissively, bringing a small mirror up higher to admire your reflection, lightly touching up your face. "sorry, babe. i just put on lip gloss." he stares at you incredulously before rolling his eyes and scoffing, annoyed. you think nothing of it until later when you try to cling onto his arm and nuzzle to his side and he all but peels himself away from you. you pout. tsukishima gives you a mocking, childish look. "sorry, babe i just put on cologne. i don't want you rubbing on the scent." "that doesn't make any sense," you laugh. he narrows his eyes at you before clicking his tongue and looking away. "well since i can't kiss you, you shouldn't be able to touch me," he grumbles. but his eyes widen in surprise when you quickly stand on the tips of your toes to place a fat, juicy kiss on his cheek, giggling manically at your antics. he frowns, feeling the stickiness but you stand to place more kisses all over his face. "alright, alright! damn," he pushes you away, palm on your face. "fine, i get it. you can stop being annoying now." you happily skip towards him, successfully hooking your arms together while you watch him struggle to wipe it off. you did offer him makeup wipes after a good few minutes of him struggling.
iwaizumi hajime cannot get his hands off of you especially when you look that good. he can barely wait for you to get settled in his passenger seat so that he could finally kiss those sweet lips of yours. to his disappointment, you gently push him off and smile apologetically. "why, what's the matter, angel?" he asks, puzzled. he watches you reach for the sun visor, flipping it open to peak at your reflection in the tiny mirror, fluffing up your hair and lashes a little bit. "i just put lip gloss on," you giggle, eyes still trailed on the mirror above your head. in a swift motion, he clasps your cheeks between his hand and turns your head to face him. he leans in to give you a kiss which startles you at first but melt into nonetheless. you point to his now shiny lips when you pull away, a wide smile etched on your face. “how do i look?” he jokes before reaching for some tissues to wipe off the gloss smeared all over his mouth. “pretty,” you chirp, tilting your head to the side to admire him. “i can’t promise i won’t mess up your lip gloss again. you look too pretty to resist.” he gives you a brief side glance, winking at you and sporting a boyish grin before he drives off. you sink further into your seat as you feel your cheeks heat up with his remarks.
miya osamu is petty (2). the bell rings as you enter the restaurant and he’s practically pouncing on you, not even thinking about how a customer could walk right through the door at any second. he tries to kiss you but you explain to him you don’t want to mess up your lips. he frowns at you, a childish pout ever so slightly noticeable on his lips. “your vanity is more important than my kisses?” he challenges overdramatically, wrapping two strong arms around you. “yes,” you chuckle, earning a whine from him. he leans his head on your shoulder. “please, just one,” he tries again, lifting his head up and mustering the cutest puppy dog eyes as he juts his lips out. you stick your tongue out, causing him to push himself off of you with a huff. “fine, but don’t think i would serve you any onigiris for that.” your mouth gapes open in disbelief. “what? if you don’t want to kiss me, you must not want to eat,” he smirks triumphantly, watching you make a fuss. he throws a white towel over his shoulder, making his way back into the kitchen. “nooo,” you whine padding after him. “i’ll give you kisses, i’m sorry.” you feel him chuckle as you press your cheek against his back and barely wrap your arms around his torso. he could almost see you pout even with his back turned to you. “good.” he turns to face you, plopping his black baseball hat onto your head before giving you a smug kiss.
@singularly-gifted-witch @mirakeul @realityisabitch-blr @erinoikawa @haji-bby @seijohoe @szeonn @banananaa4 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @thezebra12 @iwaizumisunshine @stffychn @vvvselfindulgence @devilgirlcrybabiey @ebiharachan @coco96 @knmsapplepi @strawberryzos @iwasunshine @bidisaster1307 @jesssobs @asaitashi @duhsies @devilsbooksworld @littlemochi @mikeystomanjacket @noitsmrleorio
do i write angst for the twins bday or do i write angst for the twins bday 🤸🏻♀️
the miya’s birthday
characters: atsumu, osamu; post! timeskip
wc: 989
warnings: spoiler at the beginning about osamu
a/n: kinda angsty, maybe even bittersweet?? it’s still october 5th in calfornia so bite me, ‘kay? this isn’t proofread either so if you catch anything please let me know
It was October 4th, just a few minutes before midnight, before October 5th, and Osamu was closing up Miya Onigiri. He twisted the key in the lock, pulling the key out after hearing a soft click, and begins the short walk to his car. The night was quiet save for his footsteps against the pavement and the buzzing of the lampposts lining the sidewalk. He was tired, to say the least, and wasn’t exactly looking forward to his birthday.
Don’t get him wrong, sharing his birthday with a twin can be fun, and he would say he cherished each and every birthday spent beside Atsumu; however, this birthday would be different, it’d be quieter, less exciting. He didn’t hold anything against Atsumu, after all, his brother was just doing what he loved.
They both were lucky enough to be doing what they had only dreamed of as high schoolers. Osamu chuckles, noting that they were such kids when attending Inarizaki. That time of their lives seems so far away now, like a hazy fog in the morning that is gone by midday. Osamu unlocks his car, getting in swiftly and turning the key in the ignition. The engine purrs as the car awaits to be driven. Osamu knows he won’t make it home before midnight, so he waits in his car instead, waits because he knows his brother will call.
And just a minute before midnight, his phone lights up with a call from his twin brother, from the person who he can always count on no matter what. Osamu rubs his eyes to clear his vision, which had begun to blur due to how tired he is. He answers the call and Atsumu, sticking to his very nature, begins to obnoxiously sing Happy Birthday. Osamu laughs and sings along, sleep long forgotten because Atsumu can make you forget whatever it is you’re feeling for a moment, can make you forget your sorrows while he’s with you.
Once the off-key singing is over, they both speak.
“Happy birthday, ‘samu.”
“Happy birthday, ‘tsumu.”
They look at each other, not all surprised they spoke at the same time because they’d done that plenty of times before. And true to their nature, they both burst into a face-splitting fit of laughter, both probably reminiscing about how they used to speak simultaneously so often as kids that it freaked their mom and other kids out.
Osamu manages to calm down first, and at seeing Atsumu wipe tears from the corners of his eyes, he blurts out, “I miss ya.”
Atsumu’s joyous smile turns into one of nostalgia, a smile that seems equally sad as it is happy, as he reminisces of moments from when they were kids. “I miss ya too, ‘samu.”
In the midst of the silence that fell after the quiet confessions, Atsumu finally takes notice of Osamu’s surroundings. “Ya still at work?”
“Nah, just in my car.”
Atsumu shakes his head. “But at work.”
“Well...yeah. In the parking lot of my job.”
“Ya mean yer dream job.”
“Where are ya taking this conversation, ‘tsumu?”
Atsumu sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed as he ponders. With one hand, he begins to pick at the skin of his thumbnail, because where was this conversation headed. Truthfully, he knew what it is he wanted to say, and he was never one to hold back, so why was he struggling to just say what he needed to say.
Osamu picks up on his brother’s inner turmoil, having a gut feeling as to what Atsumu meant. “‘tsumu...I don’t hold it against ya. Yer where you need to be, the same way I’m where I need to be.”
Atsumu looks at his brother through the phone, eyes glossing over with tears desperately wanting to tip over. And he recalls to when they were in grade school, when they had finally made it to the double digits.
They stood under a big tree, about to bury a time capsule that they promised to open after another decade. Both were covered in dirt from head to toe, and Atsumu had even gotten some in his hair. You’d think they used each other to dig a hole instead of a shovel with how dirty they were.
Under the big tree that enveloped them in it’s cool shade they also promised each other to always celebrate every birthday together, no matter what. It didn’t matter if they were in the middle of a fight or if they were too busy, they promised to do whatever it takes to be together for every birthday. And so they upheld that promise, a promise so special, a promise that held the weight of the world, every year. That is, until...
Until today, with the Miya twins staring at each other through a phone screen, turning 26 away from each other. But Osamu couldn’t blame Atsumu. Atsumu was doing what he wanted with a passion so intense it was enviable. But Osamu was on the same page with that same passion, so he understood Atsumu. And it would’ve been hypocritical of him to expect Atsumu to fly back, when he could’ve flown to his brother all the same.
“Yer not mad?”
Osamu offers a genuine smile. “No, ‘tsumu. I could never be mad at ya for doing what ya love. Volleyball needed ya elsewhere, and my shop needs me here.”
Atsumu smiles a relieved smile, yet his eyes water again. “‘m still sorry I couldn’t make it.”
Osamu waves him off. “We’ll have next year.”
Atsumu smiles, because he knows he can count on Osamu the same way his brother counts on him. No matter how many fights they get in, they’ll always have each other. Atsumu nods in agreement, wiping at his eyes so he can see Osamu clearly. “Yeah, we will.”
My entry for @augustinewrites’s Simple Pleasures collab! Chaos corner, this one’s for you 💝
Miya Osamu knows better than most that life is volatile and sometimes unkind - and more than often inopportune. He knows because he grew up with the embodiment of life, wearing a face that looked exactly like his.
At 7pm, standing in the doorway of your shared room, he can’t help but wonder when he met the other side of life; the side that was more like himself than Atsumu. Because life wasn’t always about crashing head-first into the worst decisions. Sometimes it was this:
Sometimes it was watching you cuddle your baby while he does the dishes and prepares the milk bottle. Sometimes it’s the quiet into which you speak promises to the Mini Miya you’ve created. Sometimes, it was complete wonder and awe at your messy ponytail and three-day-old T-shirt - and how it’s still one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen in his twenty-odd years of life.
Sometimes it was reveling in the fact that you existed.
You’ve saved his life more than once, he thinks. When no one else believed in Onigiri Miya, you did. When everyone else asked after Atsumu and never Osamu, you were the one whose lips always held his name.
Osamu. A name he used to resent. It was too often followed by “and Atsumu,” reminding him that he always coexisted with another half. Now, he doesn’t mind. It’s followed by “my dear,” “my love,” and the like.
Sometimes, life was laying next to you, waiting until the baby was burped and fed. Life was his baby on his chest, napping or curling her tiny, tiny fingers around his own. Life was you, pressed into his side, stroking the baby’s back and telling him your life story with a baby voice to entertain both members of your tiny family.
He doesn’t know how or when he got here. He doesn’t know what accident of the universe granted him this blessing - not that he’s complaining.
“Samu?”
He hums, glancing downward to see if Mini Miya was asleep yet.
“Thanks.”
“For what?” It can’t be the dishes. He does those all the time.
“For staying.”
Two words, but he knows what they mean to you. A lot. Because you didn’t trust easily, and too many people had given up before you were ready to hand them your heart. But not Miya Osamu. Miya Osamu was thankful to have you in his life in any capacity. He didn’t care how long you made him wait, because waiting was half the fun.
It was existence with you, either way, and that’s all he’s ever wanted. That’s all he ever hopes to do for the rest of his life.
“You can’t get rid of me,” he murmurs. “Ever.”
miya twins as your brothers! with atsumu and osamu miya (duh!)
tags haikyuu smau, miya twins, miya atsumu, miya osamu, miya atsumu au, miya osamu au
CAFE AU ━ o. miya
GENRE ━ fluff + the smallest amount of angst
WC ━ 770
Ever since Osamu has aged and settled into his new life as a shop and home owner, it seems like couples have been miraculously popping up everywhere he looks. He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a bit of loneliness seeing couples in booths sharing the food he made. Him being a romantic never helped either—the fantasy of seeing his s/o after a long day at Onigiri Miya plagued his mind constantly, as well as the domestic feeling of coming home knowing that someone will be there waiting for him.
The brunette began to put himself out there more, but not like his blonde counterpart. It was more subtle; making more conversation with his patrons and posting a little more on instagram. He became a fanatic for a short while—constantly stalking his notifications and dm requests even though he knew there would be nothing new. He contemplated giving up on the whole romance act, maybe it's a luxury only certain people can have.
Sighing for the fifth time this morning, Osamu shoves his phone into his back pocket. A past friend of his posted some pictures from his wedding. “Must be nice,” he mumbles under his breath. After washing his hands, he prepares to head to the back before hearing a delicate voice break the silence of his early morning shift.
“Hi, can I get a coffee?” Osamu froze as he heard the voice of this customer, he’s never heard anything like it. He looks up to see a smile adorning your face as you wait for him to confirm the order. The shop owner hopes he doesn’t look stupid as he quickly wipes his hands on his apron and clears his throat.
Osamu quirked up his brow in curiosity,”just a coffee?” The request was quite vague, there’s a million coffees in the world, he’s not a mind reader after all.
“What kind? we carry a bunch of flavors y’know!” He watched as an amused expression took over your face as you listened to him.
“Well, I actually don’t know since your menu up there is quite empty.” Osamu looked up at the digital menu screen above him to realize that it is indeed—blank. a wave of embarrassment washes over him as he grabs the remote off the counter behind him and presses the on button. The menu soon lit up with a bunch of options for you to continue your less detailed coffee order from earlier.
“I'm really sorry about that,” his face feels flushed from the embarrassment of the moment and because of the sound of your laughter entering his ears.
“It's fine, I'll take an espresso.” Osamu nodded as he entered your order into the system in front of him. “And your name?” You looked up quickly with a small ‘hm?’ and gave him your name, “Y/n L/n.” The tapping noise resumed as he typed in your name, smiling softly at the fact he knows you a little bit more. As you leave the counter to find a seat, the shop begins to fill up slowly as people come in for breakfast.
Usually Osamu calls out his customer’s names for them to grab their items, but he felt as if you deserved the delivery. He calms his nerves before walking over to your table by the window, “Here you go Y/n,” he says softly as he hands you your mug, telling you to be careful because it's hot. He slowly retreats back to his spot behind the counter to make the orders since his coworker has shown up to take them. Watching you out of the corner of his eye, he smiles seeing that you’re enjoying your drink as you gaze out the window. “Osamu!” His co worker snapped to get his attention, the amount of drinks he had to prepare had piled up. Sending her an apologetic look, he got back to work.
After making and sending off the last coffee, he looked over to where you were sitting to see an empty table with a lonely mug. Osamu sucked his teeth, he planned on asking you if you enjoyed it. As he walked over to the table to clean it, he noticed a slip of paper poking out from under the mug. He grabbed it and read its contents.
“Y/n L/n: XXX-XXX-XXXX. here’s my number, I’d like to talk to you some more. P.S: I saw you staring at me ;p.”
Smiling to himself, he pocketed the note and cleaned up the previously occupied table. Maybe this romance thing isn’t so hard after all.
timeskip osamu x gn!reader fluff :-)
“is it bad if i say i wish you kept playing volleyball?”
osamu hears your question before he feels your arms wrap around his waist, his arms crossed over his chest moving to hold yours.
you lean to rest your cheek against his bicep and he looks down at you, pinches your arm as a playful threat. “depends on the reason.”
“is ‘’cause you look good in this jersey’ good enough?”
the black and gold jersey in question, wrapped snug around his arms and chest, had his last name splayed across his back, but not for him, not with his number sitting underneath. there was a match tonight—the first one back from off-season—and osamu would damn himself if he wasn’t repping his twin, even if he couldn’t be there in the stands.
“seriously?” the corner of his lip twitches, and he teases, “y’don’t wanna wear ’tsumu’s? it’s the same last name anyway.”
the bolded MIYA greets you when you pull away to look at it, and osamu wonders if it’d be selfish to say he wanted you to say no, if he confessed his heart jumped at the immediate shake of your head—“it’s not the same, though.”
you gently tug at the fabric and name, twisting it between your fingers. “i love ’tsumu, but in a very different way than i love you.”
your boyfriend does his best to tuck a stupidly lovesick smile away, along with the satisfaction and pride swelling in his chest, all behind a deep sigh and hum in thought.
he turns to wrap an arm around your shoulder where he picks stray lint off your shirt. “we have my old high school jerseys somewhere.” and he almost laughs at the speed you gasp and let your jaw fall.
“wait, really?”
“yeah, kept most of our school stuff after we graduated. wanna see if one fits?”
“yes?” you shove his chest, not trying to, but unable to move him all the same. “i can’t believe you’ve been hiding your old high school stuff from me.”
“well it’s not like i did it on purpose! had no reason to go lookin’ for it,” he defends himself. and you know he’s right—you met long after the twins’ graduation when it had all been packed up ages ago, and osamu no longer felt the need to take his jersey out just to see it, mind filled with business instead of volleyball, a new black uniform fitted to his form.
“well now we do, miya,” you tease, the last name an old acquaintance sitting oddly on your tongue, “so you better get looking before i change my mind and ask atsumu’s for his instead.”
and osamu, for once, raises his hands in surrender instead of pushing his luck; he doubts you’d do it even if he didn’t find his old jersey, but just the thought is enough. “yeah, okay, alright, anythin’ for you.”
🏷️ | @pelicanpizza @godoffuckedupcats @causenessus @priv-rose @ur-local-simp @respitable @hasti-666 @deepenthevoid
with you, i'm first | miya osamu x reader
in which miya osamu is used to coming second to his brother. but with you, he's always first.
wc: 1113 | gn!reader | fluff
Miya Osamu is used to coming second.
It starts with Atsumu, like most things do. October is cold and gray and Atsumu comes first, a small body with a large presence that fills the warm hospital room. His cries are loud and he’s a little underweight, but with him comes the sun.
Atsumu is born under a partly cloudy sky but the nurses swear he was shrouded in sunlight.
Osamu comes twelve minutes later. His parents are crying and his Ma is close to passing out. If he thinks really hard he can almost feel her warmth, Atsumu’s sobs, and a mumble of prayers that October has safely brought Atsumu and then Osamu.
He asks Grandma one day what the weather was like when he was born. She says, with confidence, it was foggy.
Atsumu doesn’t get along with his classmates. He is too loud and too rash and lacks social cues, and Osamu is angry because Stupid ‘Tsumu cares too little: and he wants everyone to know Atsumu like he knows Atsumu.
They fight and they yell and they argue until Atsumu says,
‘Samu, I don’t care about ‘em. Why do ya care so much?
And Osamu throws him across the room. The argument ends there, he says sorry, and Osamu lies awake that night thinking about his brother. Atsumu is hotheaded. And an idiot. A loud snorer, too. But he turns on his side and curls into a ball because he knows it was sunny when Atsumu was born and all of a sudden he really wants to be his brother.
Atsumu dyes his hair first: it’s a shitty box dye from the pharmacy down the street, and it looks terrible. It’s a little yellow and a little neon, and Osamu laughs until his sides hurt when Atsumu shows him.
But Atsumu is proud, and he is confident, and he goes to school with a hundred watt smile and a group of girls trailing after him.
Osamu goes to the pharmacy that night and buys a box of gray, cloudy dye. Atsumu helps him bleach his hair under their bathroom sink with the faulty tap and tells him he looks like the moon.
His Ma says that Atsu is hot and Samu is cold after the two have a particularly bad fight. Atsumu is gleeful and smug as he gloats that he was born to be hotter and warmer and better, and Osamu punches him.
He remembers his Ma sitting on the porch, an arm around his shoulders as he pouts.
“‘S not fair,” Osamu had said, his chin in his palm. “Why’d ya name Tsumu that?”
His Ma had laughed, quietly, leaning her weight into his side. And she had held his cheeks between her palms and told him with a fire in her eyes that Osamu means To Rule.
He meets you for the first time in February.
You were standing in front of him, a little sheepish, with a box of chocolates in your extended palms. He remembers feeling something heavy in his chest. Because, yeah, Atsumu was definitely going to accept your confession.
You had said, IReallyLikeYou, and Here’sSomeChocolates, and Please Accept Them.
You were shorter than him, and your hair was done nicely, and you were blushing and nervous. And you were really fucking cute. But Osamu is used to coming second, so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is, Why? And then, Tsumu’s in tha next classroom ov’r.
He doesn’t remember what happened next, only Atsumu’s laugh and the slap echoing through the halls. You leave with his cheeks stinging and hot. And Atsumu had teased him the next day, behind his mountain of chocolates and confessions, because Osamu’s face was still red twelve hours later.
He sees you a lot the year after.
You’re in the same class as him and ‘Tsumu, and you smile every time you see him. You sit two rows in front of him and you’re not very good at tying your uniform. Every lunch, Osamu watches you pull out the same gray bento with a wrapped onigiri on the side. He tells you one day that he really likes onigiri. And then, Osamu watches as every lunch, you pull out the same gray bento with two wrapped onigiris on the side.
With you, it’s always Hi Osamu, first, and then, Hullo Atsumu. With you, it’s an onigiri dropped on his desk when the lunch bell rings. With you, Osamu thinks back to a conversation with his Ma on a porch.
Osamu means To Rule.
The menu is this: Tuna mayo on Mondays and Thursdays, Ume on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Friday is plain. You don’t ever bring onigiri for his brother.
He asks you, on a hot night in June, what your favorite type of weather is. You had your knees tucked to your chest, a sparkler in hand, and then told him cloudy. Cold. Foggy. Winter. Snow is nice, too. You say it all with no hesitation.
Osamu kisses you for the first time that night.
It’s New Years and you’re cooking Ozoni on the stove. The curtains are open, it’s snowing outside, and Osamu wakes to the smell of miso and the sound of carrots on a chopping board. He gets out of bed, padding to the kitchen with half-lidded eyes and a stifled yawn, and then he thinks his heart stops when he sees you.
Because what Miya Osamu is not used to is this: coming first and having something unequivocally his.
But you’re bent over the counter, fiddling with the oven as you read the instructions on the back of the packaged Yakimochi you bought the other day. And you’re wearing his shirt, it falls right below your thighs, your hair is still messy from using his chest as a pillow, and you look beautiful.
“Mornin’ ‘Samu, come help me with this.” You say, looking back at him with a smile, pointing to the fresh pot of rice on the counter. “You’re in charge of onigiri.”
He hugs you instead, his arms around your stomach with your back to him.
“But I like yer onigiri,” He says, his chin on your head. His eyes are watering and it must be from the steam of your boiling dashi.
“‘Samu,” You complain, giggling as he presses kisses into the crown of your head. “I made enough for ya in high school.”
It’s cold outside and snowing, and Osamu knows he’s going to make the onigiri.
He also knows that if his name means To Rule, he’s okay with coming second if it means you’re by his side.
“out of us three, i never thought atsumu would get married first.”
miya osamu turns to face you, approaching him with two glasses in hand. he steals a second to admire you in the wisps of moonlight—you looked ethereal, always have been, but tonight most particularly. osamu rolls his eyes as he takes the glass from you, part disdain, part cheeky happiness for his brother.
“yep. never would’ve thought someone would want ta be with that idiot.”
you laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “give him some credit, ‘samu.”
it is but a nickname, one that you’ve called osamu since you were kids, but it still yields the power to soar his heart into the clouds.
“‘tsumu’s always been a charmer,” you continue, “getting confessions left and right.”
“i remember that one time, that girl from another class? she mistook you for ‘tsumu and ran away after she gave you a bunch of snacks along with a sappy love letter.”
osamu snorts, recalling all the instances that he was mistaken for his twin. growing up, they had similar hairstyles and interests. it was no surprise that people had a hard time differentiating between them.
maybe that was part of the reason why atsumu chose to dye his hair piss blonde as a first-year. of course osamu was roped into it, but he chose an unassuming grey finish instead. ma didn’t receive the change very well—she was angry for weeks—but osamu always thought it was worth it because of you.
he still remembers the first time you saw him with grey hair, bubbling worry in anticipation to what you’ll say. you noticed atsumu’s new style first, mocking his ridiculous shade in front of the whole team. even kita-san cracked a smile as you hurled insult after insult, immune to atsumu’s whines about how it was fashionably empowering.
“so did ‘samu get his hair done t—oh.”
your eyes met osamu’s, and you float over to him across the hard vinyl floor. your hand reached out across the air to brush the strands on the side of his head. in that moment, osamu realises he’s never felt so raw, so exposed. logic snaps at him to get himself together, but your touch was intoxicating. what was he thinking?
“you look good, ‘samu.” your soft smile is ingrained instantly in his head, as well as the words that follow after: “grey suits you.”
osamu brings himself back to the present, with only you and the cool night air for company. the wedding party inside is still going strong, but out here is a world of its own. out here, it’s quiet, and out here it’s only the two of you.
“you know, ‘samu. i’ve always wondered why you didn’t date back in high school up ’til now. i betted on you tying the knot first.”
all words seem to die in osamu’s throat—how can he explain that it’s you? it’s always been you? you, who stuck through all the late night cramming sessions. you, who came to each and every volleyball game. you, who stood by him at every hurdle that came at onigiri miya, until his onigiris were renowned all over hyogo.
he doesn’t want to imagine the day you text excitedly in the groupchat about someone you’ve met, the first date, and the second, and the third. he can’t place himself in that position, not now, not ever. but he keeps his secret to himself, for one more night. for the foreseeable future.
“i don’t know,” he replies. “guess i haven’t found that someone yet.”
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