#ohbirds

You deserve all of your followers, your art is simply gorgeous, keep up with the good work! We all support you! Thanks for being in the sinja fandom, we are so lucky to have you.

AAAAAAAAAWWWW that was so sweet! ;____; Thank you very much for this lovely message! 

Welcome to the club maya. *open hell doors*

Eh no cazzo hai ragione ti capisco macchecavolo ma poi che senso ha? cioe' sta tizia mi segue pure o sei scema o sei scema, che la riposti a fare? mah chi la  capisce la gente.

Submission for ohbirds and simplyfx's AoKise fic contest.

As always, all the AoKise inspired by Sachi. 

Everything always came easy for Aomine Daiki when it came to basketball. But with academics, not so much. He had failed his few first rounds of practice exams and even with as much studying as he did, the countless hours he spent with Satsuki going over her notes and lecture books, it still hadn’t been enough. 

Kise had offered to help, though Aomine wasn’t sure how much that would make a difference either, considering Kise’s grades weren’t much better than his.

"College is stupid anyway. I’ve taken these goddamn practice tests for the entrance exams three times and each time I’ve failed. Maybe I should just give up."

"The test tomorrow will be different! I believe in Aominecchi! Besides, if you give up, how are we supposed to get into the same college?!" Kise asked, his signature pout forming. Suddenly his face lit up and he leaned over the table littered with books and paper, his warm lips pressed against the ace’s. 

Aomine’s eyes went wide. He stumbled back, knocking his chair to the ground in a loud crash. “What the hell was that?!”

"For luck?" came Kise’s reply, golden eyes all innocence as he paired the answer with a casual shrug. "People kiss for luck all the time, right? I thought I’d try it!"

"For lu— how the hell is that supposed to help?!"

"Silly Aominecchi! Just take the luck and stop asking so many questions!"

"But you kissed me!"

"For luck!" Kise’s cheeks flared with heat, the crimson spreading right up to the tips of his ears. "Just for luck, okay?"

"Well… I guess it couldn’t hurt."

"I could always do it again? Make you luckier?" Kise teased, his face still flushed as he braced himself on his forearms. He gave a suggestive wiggle of his brows and for a moment, Aomine was tempted to let him do what he wanted.

Kise’s lips puckered in that exaggerated way that made Aomine laugh. He felt his own face warm and he turned away, eyes rolling at the offer. “Don’t be an idiot. I better pass this test tomorrow.”

Author (your tumblr url): deiafonia.tumblr.com

Title: Mailbox

Characters: Kise Ryouta, Aomine Daiki

Rating: T (for minor language)

Genre: Romance, Friendship

Warnings: slash

Summary (optional): But it’s okay, because they communicate with words and pictures and trinkets and a rusty mailbox with mixed up labels.

—

They haven’t spoken before. They’ve never seen each other face to face. All they have are letters and notes, post-its and messages scrawled on half completed assignments.

But it’s okay, because they communicate with words and pictures and trinkets and a rusty mailbox with mixed up labels.

—

It was originally Kise’s mailbox though.

The workers had misplaced one of the mailboxes for the apartment complex and ended up forgetting about it. So Kise and Aomine ended up sharing one mailbox, although they didn’t know it at the time.

—

“What the- this isn’t my mail. Did the postman drop it into my box by accident? I guess I should find this ‘Aomine Daiki’, and give his mail to him, -suu!”

—

“…who the fuck has a name like ‘Kise Ryouta’?……tch, whatever.” cue mail tossed into the trash carelessly.

—

“…again? The landlord didn’t listen to me when I asked him to label my mailbox properly, mou…”

—

“…” no words were spared this time and the mail once again landed in the trash.

—

Aomine preferred going to university class during the evening / night, so he collected his mail later in the mornings, while Kise took day classes and collected this mail at night, so they often missed each other and collected the mail meant for the other, and only occasionally received mail actually meant for them, which was a pity.

—

This continued for a while, until Kise found his mail…

In. The. Trash.

The only way his mail could have ended up in the trash would be if someone had collected his mail from his mailbox.

Time to talk.

—

A yellow lined of paper with a note written in pen, folded in half, dropped into the mailbox.

“ ヽ(ｏ`皿′ｏ)ﾉ!!!

ヽ(#`Д´)ﾉ <To whoever keeps on throwing my mail in the trash, halt and stop throwing away my mail, ok?

PS This is my mailbox, -ssu. Butt out, it’s mine. (¬､¬)

Kise Ryouta~”

—

A sheet of recycled paper, ripped in half, tossed into the mailbox in reply.

“no”

—

Kise’s eyebrow twitched.

“Oi! I’m serious here. (/｀ε´)/ boot out, it’s my mailbox, you came into the apartment complex later than I did, I have proof. It’s minnnneeee. (*￣m￣)”

—

Aomine stuck his pinky in his ear and yawned lazily.

“does it look like i give a crap”

—

A purple post it note with green ink scrawled over the sheet.

“shove. off. ヽ(●-`Д´-)ノ”

—

A half completed assignment crossed out and pencil marks all over it went in the mailbox and made a muted ‘clunk’ as it reached the bottom.

“u r a loser, no one would listen to your threts anyway”

—

Kise reached into the mailbox and grabbed the note from his mailbox-associate. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the spelling.

“Says someone who can’t spell ‘threats’. “ψ(｀∇´)ψ”

—

Aomine scowled darkly and hastily scribbled a response on a piece of paper, then shoved it into the mailbox.

“Shut up u stupid”

—

Smiling slightly at the penned response, Kise replied hastily and placed his response in the mailbox.

—

And so time went by, and Kise and Aomine began to look forward to receiving a response from each other. Each day they would respond, talking about trivial things each day.

“Ah, I work part time as a model-ssu! ;DDD”

“My favorite hobby is basketball”

“So there’s this friend of mine, we were on the same basketball team in high school, Kasamatsu-senpai, he’s called…”

“…I had a teammate who I owe my life to….he doesn’t have much of a presence…but he’s stubborn as heck…is an idiot who doesn’t know the meaning of ‘give up’…”

“I like the color yellow…”

“When I was a kid, I dreamt of being a police officer…”

—

Kise kept each and every note in a box, carefully stored away and kept far from prying eyes.

Aomine never threw away each note, but the notes were scattered all over his apartment. ( he would never admit not being able to throw away the “stupid” pieces of paper given to him by an “airheaded idiot”).

—

Day after day, time went by, Kise and Aomine continued to pass notes.

Day after day, Kise began falling in love with a basketball loving idiot with dismal writing.

Day after day, Aomine began to think of notes with doodles and stupid emoticons, of a stupid model who just may have joined basketball for his sake, who he spilled all his thoughts to, who he just may have… fallen for.

—

They haven’t spoken before. They’ve never seen each other face to face. All they have are scrap pieces of paper with ink on them.

But it’s okay, because they communicate with words and pictures and that’s how they share their love— through a rusty mailbox with messed up labels because a construction worker had misplaced one of their mailboxes.

—

Kise rubbed his eye sleepily as he shuffled along into the cafeteria. On his way in, he bumped into someone.

"Oh! I’m so sorry, -ssu!"

The tan, dark (blue? Who had blue hair?) haired man in front of him clicked his tongue irritably before stalking off. Kise watched him trudge off, noticing the man’s quiet, lethal grace. For a moment, he was reminded of someone he wrote letters to. Shrugging the encounter off, he continued on his way to the cafeteria, intent on getting something to eat.

—

Submission for ohbirds and simplyfx's AoKise fic contest.

Light peeks through between the drawn shades, a slanted piece of the early morning sun angled along the rumpled covers. It's comforting, calming, the dawn of a new day. This is Aomine's favorite time, when the day is waking and he's laying there, basking it in, watching it unfold as the light creeps farther along until it barely grazes the pale fingertips of the blond who sleeps beside him, dead to the world. 

Kise's even breathing inhales and exhales with every rise and fall of his chest. The sound, while relaxing, makes Aomine's heart beat faster as he continues to watch, silently reverent. The new day is beautiful, but he's preoccupied with something else, something that trumps whatever awe the new day holds. 

He grabs his phone on the nightstand and angles it just so. The flecks of dust dance through the filtered light as it hits the side of Kise's face and Aomine is left breathless. With a quiet shutter, the camera clicks. It's long gone before Kise begins stirring, the quiet groan alerting the ace that it's time to get up, time to share Kise with the world again. 

Submission for ohbirds and simplyfx's Aokise fic contest

"Aominecchi is so talented!"

"Don't try and flatter me, baka. I'm no where near as good as the professionals who photograph you all the time."

Kise pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. "But I like Aominecchi's pictures. They're more... real." 

Aomine scoffed and returned the pictures to his portfolio. Ever since Kise had bought him his new, high-tech camera (something he accepted only after days of protest) he had been taking pictures non-stop. Of everything. Even he knew he was improving. 

He kept every single picture he took, comparing the old with the new. Kise saw them all. He always brought his newest portfolio to the blond and spread the photos out before him just to watch those golden eyes sparkle with excitement. Maybe it was a deliberate ego boost, but sometimes he needed it. Kise admired him, yes, but he was not beyond offering criticism where criticism was due. 

The blond was no photographer, but he had enough experience with the medium to know where improvements could be made. Sometimes his word choice got on Aomine's nerves. He was certain Kise was insulting him in some way just to be the pain in the ass he naturally was. Despite his frustrations, he committed every word to memory, sifting through the tease to find the nugget of advice. 

Then he would bring more pictures and the process would start all over again. 

~

"Does Aominecchi show these to anyone else?" 

"No."

"Not even your parents?"

"Well, they see them sometimes when I visit. But I don't go to them and show off."

Kise face flushed and he beamed that thousand-watt smile. With the park as their setting, the freckled lighting that peered through the treetops glistening like diamonds in Kise's golden hair, Aomine really wished he could pull out his camera and snap a picture. 

But that would be weird. He doesn't need to know.

There were a select few pictures Aomine kept from Kise. He kept them from everyone. They made a home in the darkroom he'd built in the guest bedroom of his apartment. 

"Ah, I'm so happy! I'm the only one who gets to see these!" Kise hummed and rocked back and forth in his seat as he studied the new spread of pictures before him. 

~

Kise had a signature knock. Maybe it was better to say he was the only one who pounded on the door as if he were being pursued by a murderer. Even in the quiet solitude of his darkroom, Aomine could hear the incessant thundering coming from the apartment door. 

With a sigh, he switched off the safelight and backed out of the room. He was too distracted to notice that the door had not clicked shut behind him. 

"I'm coming already. Jeeze." He grumbled, rubbing at his nape as he pulled open the door. "One of these days you're gonna break it down, Ryouta." 

Kise barreled inside, ignoring the comment. It was a common complaint coming from Aomine. "But if I hadn't knocked like that Aominecchi wouldn't have heard me!" 

"It's impossible not to hear you." He chuckled. 

Kise huffed and made his way down the hall. "Did you even pack your bags?"

"I was just about to finish! Get your ass back in the living room." 

Kise returned to Aomine's side with a petulant frown plastered to his face. "I thought you'd be ready to leave."

Aomine reached out and ruffled the blond hair. "In a few minutes. The resort isn't going to shut down if we're late, baka." He was just as eager as the blond to begin their little "romantic" getaway. He turned and made his way into his bedroom to finish packing the necessities for their long planned trip. 

Unable to sit still, Kise moved around the ace's apartment. He had been here numerous times before, spent the night more times than he could count. Aomine's home was as close to his own as any. As he paced, however, there was a door that caught his eye.

What is that? 

It seemed there was one room Kise had yet to discover. The door was propped open just a hair, but that was invitation enough for the blond. Kise stepped inside and was instantly bathed in darkness. He knew enough about photography to take an educated guess on what the room might be. He slowly closed the door behind him to avoid letting in too much light, only after his eyes had discerned the location of the safelight switch.

He tugged on the small chain that hung from the ceiling. The safelight flickered to life, offering only a dim glow, but it was enough for Kise to see what Aomine had been working on. The sight left him speechless, breathless even. Every picture that clung to the walls, hung from the lines, and bathed in chemicals–they were all pictures of him. Pictures of Kise laughing, of Kise eating, of Kise sleeping, of him in various states of undress, of him pouting, crying, complaining, playing basketball.

His fingers skimmed over the dry photographs. This was a side of him no photographer had ever captured before. All of his shoots were pre-planned, posed, fake. These pictures, all of these pictures were...

"Ryouta, what the hell are you doing in here?" 

Kise had been so enraptured he had noticed the bright light coming from the open door. Flinging himself around, he met the blazing eyes of the ace. "I... er... The door was open so I thought–"

"You thought that was an open invitation for you to waltz right in to someone's private room?"

Kise's face flushed and he averted his gaze to the floor. When Aomine put it like that, he felt nothing but shame. It was rather childish of him to assume that all open doors were meant for exploration. 

"I'm sorry, Aominecchi, but I was just..." He turned and glanced at all the pictures. "These are all–"

"Yeah."

"When did you–"

"Obviously when you weren't looking." 

"But how... why?"

"I see all your pictures in those damn photo books. They're nice and all. I like them. Kinda. But I like these better." He took a step inside the darkroom and closed the door behind him. Once more only the dim light from above was their only offered illumination. "These candid photos... they're the real you."

Kise bit his bottom lip and watched as Aomine's dark eyes scanned across every photo on display. He watched as those lips quirked into a faint smile. 

"You don't look like that when you laugh for a shoot." He pointed at a picture of Kise laughing so hard he was clutching at his stomach, there were tears that clung to the corners of his eyes. "In those stupid seductive shoots you do, you don't take clothing off like you do when you're around me." His fingers brushed across a picture of Kise with his head caught in the neck of a sweatshirt. "You don't ever cry or pout in your photo shoots. I like all your faces, Ryouta, and I wanna preserve them."

Kise took a step to the side and pressed his arm against Aomine's. He was surprised, pleasantly so, when the ace laced their fingers together in a rare showing of affection. 

"These are beautiful." Aomine whispered.

"Because Aominecchi took them."