#powerhoused

█ ▓ ▒ ░ 【 ♛ 】჻ K I N G

KIYOKO PAUSES ABOVE the pot of curry, stilling her stirring spoon for a moment’s breath. it’s not really that cold, she thinks to herself, pursing her lips. but the stove has a tendency to warm up the kitchen when it’s on, & she’s been cooking for the past ten minutes with it turned up. maybe ... it’s cold ? 

she sets the spoon down & turns the stove dial down to a lower simmer. with her head craned towards him, looking curiously, kiyoko steps out of the kitchen-- into the cold of the next room, where it catches her with a shiver. at once, her shoulders tense, & she clasps her hands shut into fists against the feeling. perhaps she’d been too busy cooking that she hadn’t realized ...

but she resolves to warm up quickly, as is only reasonable. a cup of tea would be nice, & when the curry is done, it will be warm, too. she shuffles back to the heat of the kitchen quickly, her slippers making a soft swish swish against the floor, & she picks up her spoon again. if she brews the tea now, maybe she can ask him to set up the kotatsu at the same time.  ‘  ne -- we can sit under the kotatsu to eat, if you want ...  ’

      “  wait ...  wait , you have them already ?? what the hell ... how ?? i haven’t even gotten raymond to come yet ... ”

“Okay, whoa, whoa, just ‘cause I’m from the city doesn’t mean I’m crappy! And just ‘cause I’m a first-year doesn’t mean I’m crappy either! I’m just... new to volleyball, that’s it!”

* let me enable you // accepting

free: nagisa, momotaro, rin, or kisumi

“Taaa----naka-kun!” He sneaks into the second-year class as soon as it ends, his hands out to either side like a penguin-turned man. He waddles excitedly up to his kouhai. “Tanaka!” He whispers, demands, right in Tanaka’s ear. “This is TOP secret. And I don’t know if we can handle it.”

He stares over his shoulder suspiciously before back at Tanaka. A finger to his lips, Suga drops the bomb.

   he can’t stop staring ... and, of all things, it was a dream that brought upon such fixation. don’t ask him, don’t ask him ... ! he’s practically begging himself, fists clenched as they had sat across from one another ( they were on the gym’s floor, practice just ended ). but he’s shaking a bit, face looking as he had just eaten a piece of sour candy, and it’s not long until he shoots up and points at the second year.  

get’cha headcanons here!  get’cha headcanons!  /  accepting.  /  @powerhoused

kumi frequently pays off entire gofundmes, donates to randos on twitter who need it, and et cetera.  there’s a fairly large online rumor mill about the mysterious benefactor.  kumi doesn’t care about it.

calling her any variation of ‘ito,’ even if it’s an overtly friendly way, will piss her off.  she might hit you.