Osamu Angst - Tumblr Posts

5 months ago
 " You Find This Recipe Card Stashed Away With Three Tickets To The Movie Challengers In A Random Drawer

💭ˎˊ˗ " you find this recipe card stashed away with three tickets to the movie challengers in a random drawer of the kitchen " ˚ ༘ 🎾 *。𖦹⋆。˚

 " You Find This Recipe Card Stashed Away With Three Tickets To The Movie Challengers In A Random Drawer

forty, love … ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ᯓ★ a tennis au! miya atsumu x gn reader x miya osamu series

꒰ there’s a constant back-and-forth in tennis. the in-between doesn’t matter. what does matter is if you can keep up when opportunity comes your way, to get your way. to be the winner. ꒱

 " You Find This Recipe Card Stashed Away With Three Tickets To The Movie Challengers In A Random Drawer

details : long form, based on the movie challengers!!!, NO MIYACEST HERE, atsumu x y/n & osamu x y/n are like separate things even if the twins are competing for y/n's attention at first, fluff, but then just so much angst, lowk highkey toxic, infidelity, mentions of struggling with mental health (self-pressure), mentions of drinking, several suggestive scenes!, each part starts off in present day but then goes into a flashback in time, ambiguous ending! (just come along for the ride, would'ya?)

 " You Find This Recipe Card Stashed Away With Three Tickets To The Movie Challengers In A Random Drawer

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ masterlist

– part one。

– part two。 *

– part three。 *

– part four。 *

– part five。 *

( * suggestive )

 " You Find This Recipe Card Stashed Away With Three Tickets To The Movie Challengers In A Random Drawer

💭ˎˊ˗ " ingredients for this recipe : sneakers squeaking on tennis courts , summer sun blanketing everything in neon hues , the scent of expensive cologne , the twinkle of shiny trophies and recognitions , slightly see - through sweaty polo shirts , the ruffling of duffels and the ruffling of clothes , sweat dripping down your temples to smirking lips ... - ro ♡ "

 " You Find This Recipe Card Stashed Away With Three Tickets To The Movie Challengers In A Random Drawer

🗒⋆ *. ୨୧⋆。 taglist (2/30) : @zumicho , @liillyliilly (just send me an ask if you’re interested! xx)


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3 years ago

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

image

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.”


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10 months ago

he doesn't mean to make you sad, you know that. it's just that, when atsumu's upset it becomes everyone's problem—yours especially.

you don't know how it starts. atsumu had been bouncing off the walls just a moment ago, drunk off of booze and the afterglow of victory. you don't know which one of his teammates had invited her to the after-party, just that right now, you can't help but hate them.

it's just for a second, but you catch it. the way his eyes immediately dim, how his hand falters around yours. you don't want to jump to conclusions, but it's obvious—atsumu's in love with her. painfully so.

he drops your hand as if burnt and turns away, letting himself be carried off into another conversation. atsumu laughs loud enough to be heard over the music, a deafening house mix that thuds through your chest like a second heartbeat. anyone else might not spare him a second glance, but you know that when atsumu laughs that loud there's something he's trying to hide. then, as if remembering that you're still there, atsumu turns over his shoulder. you answer before he can ask the question.

"no no, go ahead. go have fun!"

atsumu tilts his head, though you know he's only asking to be polite. "are you sure?"

you smile. "no worries."

it's a bold-faced lie, but atsumu's never been that good at paying attention. he returns your smile with an excited nod, letting himself be led away by the shoulders. "don't go anywhere!" he shouts, though you know later on he'll forget to come find you. that's the way it always is. always has been.

you nurse your drink against your chest—water, you don't have the stomach tonight—and try to look on the bright side, if there is one. atsumu had been the one to invite you, hadn't he? and though you're still "just friends", he'd held your hand earlier, so that has to count for something, right?

it's useless. you down your water in one go, figuring that if you treat it like alcohol it might work like it is. it doesn't, and now you're alone at this party with an empty cup and an even emptier hand.

you sigh and snake your way out of the kitchen, making your way up the stairs to the first door that opens. the upstairs is off-limits, but you hope that whoever owns this room is drunk enough to be forgiving. you don't even bother to turn on the lights, and instead flop backwards onto the bed. you feel the music downstairs rather than hearing it, a steady thump-thump-thump that shakes through you from head to toe.

you close your eyes, trying very hard not to think about atsumu and the girl he's still in love with downstairs. it's not your place to be bothered, that you know, but something in your chest still aches at the thought. you've loved atsumu since before he met her, after all. it's a shame he hasn't noticed. or maybe he's not noticing on purpose, which is considerably worse.

"woe is me," you say to no one, your voice biting with sarcasm. you're not shocked at how things are turning out, moreso that you thought it'd turn out any differently. with a sigh, you close your eyes. atsumu will find you eventually. and if he doesn't, then someone else will. you'd rather be cursed at for trespassing than anywhere downstairs, faking a smile as you wait for atsumu like a well-trained dog. at least here you can lick your wounds in private.

you don't know how much time has passed when you feel something press into your side, warm and solid. arms wrap around you: one slung over your waist, the other snaking its way under your head. you turn in confusion, seeing nothing in the dark.

whoever's holding you down reeks heavily of liquor, and their arm feels like a dead weight around you. when you try to pull it off they hold onto you tighter, mumbling something incoherent under their breath. "um, hey," you say loudly, voice hoarse with sleep. "get off of me."

the person beside you stirs, and the bed dips slightly as they prop themselves up. they mumble your name under their breath, and in the dark you can make out the vague outline of a face.

with a start, you realize you recognize that voice. "...osamu?"

he lies back down, bringing you along with him. "h-hey," you start to protest, but osamu's grip grows stronger in response.

"don't leave," he mumbles, as you try to sit up.

"but—"

"m'head hurts. shhh." osamu shushes you, curling up against your side. his hair tickles the side of your reddening cheek.

"hey, osamu." you try to move out from under his arm again, to no avail. "you're really drunk."

"and?" he counters, pulling you closer, almost possessively. "just pretend for a little while."

that catches you off guard. "pretend?"

"it's dark, so it's easier," osamu refuses to elaborate. "c'mon. it's my birthday."

"osamu, your birthday's in october."

"is it?" there's an uncharacteristic cheekiness to osamu's voice, one that makes you turn your head towards him in surprise. you can't see him, but you can tell from the warmth that his face is only inches away. "well it's somebody's birthday, somewhere."

something touches your cheek—osamu's hand? no, his face. somewhere near his chin, guessing by the stubble that scratches your skin. "just do me a favor and pretend i'm him," osamu says, and in that moment he sounds scarily sober.

"wh-what?" you can't help the way your mouth hangs open at the request, your stomach feeling like it's about to drop out of you.

"you heard me," osamu mumbles, back to being drunk again. "pretend i'm him. you know what i mean."

"you—what—that's not—"

"am i wrong?" osamu presses, raising his voice like he's imitating his brother. it works. osamu's fingers trace across your face, reading the shock on your face like braille. you turn your head and press your nose to his neck—no cologne, only the soft smell of skin. it can't be atsumu, but for a moment, you're fooled.

osamu tilts his head and sighs, slow and sweet. and when his lips brush your forehead, it's like everything you've ever dreamed. "i'm right," he breathes, nestling his head against your shoulder. it's not a question anymore, but a fact. "i'm right," he sing-songs, still painfully drunk.

"osamu—"

a hand covers your mouth, warm and firm. softer than atsumu's, and just a bit bigger. "don't say my name like that," he whispers, his voice hot against the shell of your ear, "say it the way you say his."

you swallow an audible gulp. "osa—osamu?" you try again.

osamu shakes his head. needy hands pull you in by the waist. you feel osamu's lips kiss up the side of your neck. "not like that," he murmurs.

"o-osa...mu..." you're breathless and dizzy. you feel osamu's smile against the underside of your jaw.

"better," he grins, and this time, his lips find yours.

it ends before you can even react. osamu pulls away with a shaky exhale, as if he's slowly waking from a dream. his eyes shine back at you in the dark, wide and unblinking.

he opens his mouth to speak. "i—"

"you're drunk," you say immediately, and push him away by the chest.

osamu doesn't let you. he brings his hands over yours and keeps them there, and under the thin cotton of his shirt you feel his heart beating rabbit-fast. "so? i'll still want you when i'm sober."

his words choke your own out of your throat. "osamu...i can't—"

"so don't. don't do anything. just stay the night." there's a desperation in his words that makes your stomach flip. osamu holds onto you like he's afraid to let go. "please."

it's late, and you're tired. atsumu's in love with someone that isn't you, but osamu's arms are warm enough to make you forget. you think to yourself: is it selfish if he's willing? are you cruel for wanting to pretend?

you wrap your arms around his neck and osamu relaxes, melting into you the same way butter does on toast. he's soft, comforting. familiar, but not the same. osamu's lips brush on your neck again and the impact shudders through your spine like electricity. he takes his hands and rubs them over your arms, thinking that you're cold. you don't want to tell him that in reality you're burning up, feeling hot everywhere he touches.

"thank you," osamu murmurs into your hair.

"for what?"

"stayin'."

and when osamu kisses you a second time, you don't have the heart to push him away.


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3 years ago

"that's salt, not sugar" with your choice of character!

"that's Salt, Not Sugar" With Your Choice Of Character!

BAHAHAHA IM SO SORRY ABOUT THIS kohi tysm for sending something in and im sorry I made it a crackfic (I think) it was just really fun to write

Synopsis: love is sweet but divorces can be a little,,, salty.

Send me a random sentence and I'll make it an angst drabble!

"that's Salt, Not Sugar" With Your Choice Of Character!

Marrying Osamu Miya was the best decision of your life.

You had your most beautiful memories with him, the best years of your life were the best because he was there with you, holding your hand, smiling into the kiss he presses on your cheek.

You loved him, with all your heart- but things sometimes go wrong, and this time what went wrong was his love for you.

"I don't love you anymore."

The moment he spoke those to you, you knew it all was over. What he said was something you'd been aware of for the longest time, you werent dumb, you could feel him drifting away, you could feel his kisses getting monotonous, his touch out of obligation, his words of love, of habit.

But as long as it wasn't confirmed, hope lived strong in your heart, hope that it wasn't true, you were reading too much into things, he was just tired, stressed- any excuse you could find.

But then came the inevitable.

As he stared at your tear-damp face, grey eyes cold and unforgiving- you only came to realize Osamu Miya had no love left for you.

"Please, 'Samu," you tried to reason still, despite his almost mocking gaze, "I'll try harder, I'll make you happy, I beg you to give us another chance!"

Your hands grasped around his hand, you were on your knees as you begged for this one thing- and you wonder what you've done to make him hate you do that he wouldn't even bring you up to your feet as you trembled on the cold ground of your shared home.

"Let me go," he had hissed at you, instead, shaking his hand to make your weak grip on him let go. "I'll send you the divorce papers."

It's unfair, you had thought. How easy it is for him to leave as you cried on the ground, alone and cold as you watched the one man you've ever loved leave your home.

The moment you had taken the cursed pile of white paper in your cold, shaking hands, the last piece of hope had died with it. Everything, the last six years you had spent with the love of your life, was now getting discarded that easily. You thought, you might- might hate him for how easy he made it look.

But you never really thought you'd plot in your head to kill him.

"What about-" you remembered sobbing that night he had left you, "what about our son?"

He hadn't answered that that night, but as you now scanned the paper you were holding, you had your answer.

The bastard was demanding full custody.

What first was an ache in your heart, shaking your body, leaving you so vulnerable because you had just lost your dearest person was now turning into blind, hot rage.

You don't even remember how you dialed his number, your heart beating in your ears enough to have you deaf, hands shaky as you waited for him to pick up.

"Wha-"

"I'll fucking murder you." You curse as soon as you hear his lazy tone. "I will fucking murder you, you hear me, Miya? If you ever try to take my child away from me, I will not let you live."

~

"Osamu, go help your wife in the kitchen!" Your aunt laughs somewhere in the garden, making you curse her whole existence.

Ever since you had learned about him suing for full custody, you and Osamu weren't exaclty on... good terms.

Your hands start trembling with anger as you hear his grunt of approval, lazy footsteps making their way into the kitchen.

It was your son's birthday.

The divorce was so sudden, you couldn't tell him or anyone in your families that you hated each other to the guts with your husband, and you sure didn't want to ruin your sons birthday toast with, "clink, clink! May I have your attention? Baby, congrats on your birthday, I love you so much- you're so different from your bastard of a father over here. Oh, also, we're getting a divorce."

"Hey," the gray haired man strolls in with all his seriousness, aware of your fury that would make anyone's skin crawl. Not his, though- no, Osamu Miya is immune to your anger. Instead, he squints his eyes at you, or rather what you have in your hands, and smiles.

"That's salt, not sugar." He laughs right before you add the substance to your son's birthday cake batter. "Don't even know the difference? This is why I'm demanding custody, I want my son to live-"

His sentence is cut together by a loud crash, followed by the sounds of broken glass.

Osamu's grey eyes widen as they close on to the dented wall only a millimeter away from his head, and then to the broken glass shreds and crystals of salt mixing together on the ground.

Did you just-

Yes you did.

You just threw a glass of salt at your husband's head.

Well, happy birthday to your son, I guess.


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2 years ago

Heartbroken

How the Haikyuu!! characters are after a breakup

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Ft: Hinata Shoyou, Kozume Kenma, Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu, Bokuto Koutarou.

should i make a part 2 for this with other characters?

Shoyou's ever-present smile faltered as he saw you again after what felt like an eternity. He was so, so sure he had moved on. Yet, there he was, feeling something warm bloom inside him the moment your eyes met. You smiled-awkwardly, not the one that he oh so loved-and moved on. You look like you're doing well, which he is happy about. Do you miss him? He hopes so. He misses you dearly, yes, but Shoyou swears he's happy. He's doing well, too. Because that's what matters right? Though he'd be happier if you were with him.

Kenma cursed as he lost the boss fight for the umpteenth time. He's been playing for so long and still hasn't been able to defeat the boss. Frustrated, he threw the console on his bed and laid back. That was a huge mistake for his mind immediately drifted towards you. He thought about all the things that don't feel the same, now that you had left. He couldn't enjoy games, streaming-everything was so bland without you. He wonders how he even lived before you came into his life.

Osamu is in a rush. It's a rush hour and he's busy tending to his customers. In between customers, he somehow manages to make extra onigiri for his dinner. Absent mindedly, he puts them in a container and goes on about his work. It's when he's finished closing the shop and ready to leave that he notices he's made enough onigiri for two people. He freezes as he notices how some of them are covered in your favorite seasoning. He laughs silently, because why would you be at his home? The two of you had broken up exactly two months ago. Pathetic. Osamu should be over you. He can't stop loving you.

Atsumu is scrolling through social media, laughing at cat memes. A particular one makes him laugh very hard. Trying to catch his breath, he sends it to all his friends. He scrolls through the list to find your name, he's sure you will love it. He's confused when he can't find your contact in the list. His eyes widen as realization hits him square in the face. We're not together anymore. He bites his trembling lip. He misses you so much. He tried pushing his feelings down knowing very well it won't work. Atsumu sobs into his pillow and wishes you would take him back.

Koutarou opens the door to an empty home. There is no one running into his arms to welcome him. No one to ask him about his day. No one to cuddle and kiss when he feels down. He feels an ache in his heart just at the sight of his lifeless home. Did you have this much impact on him? Did he take you for granted? He heats up the leftovers in his fridge and thinks how he would have to sleep in a cold, empty bed and repeat all of this again tomorrow, the day after that and so on.

Work by: @smolbean12

Heartbroken

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