#sunshine crow

Come trick or treating in my inbox! Leave a “Trick or Treat” and a character or ship in an ask, and I’ll treat you to some autumn-themed fluff or trick you with some twisted spooky aus! Treat

A bonfire seemed like a great idea on the last night of a MSBY camping trip. Meian had a stick in his hands, poking at the flames in that way that dads do, swatting at Inunaki’s hands when he tried to do the same. Bokuto had brought along a guitar and Adriah was plucking out some English song on it while Barnes hummed along. Even Sakusa was there, looking relaxed as he ever did.

But Atsumu only had eyes for one teammate.

It wasn’t anything new. Osamu had teased him for years about his stupid crush on the little orange-haired crow, teasing that had turned into incredulous, wheezing laughter when Atsumu had mentioned him among the new recruits back in 2018. Bokuto had noticed right away, and Sakusa not long after. The only two mercies in Atsumu’s life were that Inunaki had not yet noticed, and that neither had Hinata himself.

But now, watching Hinata, seeing the way the slowly-dying flames lit his face in softer shades than usual, watching the way his smile was just a tad sleepy and slow, Atsumu let himself wish that Hinata would notice. Because at least then Atsumu could know definitively, and could move on with his life.

Hinata’s eyes caught Atsumu’s, and he smiled such a soft smile that Atsumu’s entire soul ached with its longing. He dragged his eyes away, looking at the fire instead and trying to ignore the quiet scoff from beside him.

“This is just sad, Miya.” Sakusa’s voice was quiet enough that no one else picked out the words. Atsumu shook his head.

“Ya think I don’t know that, Omi-kun?” he hissed.

“The saddest part of it all is that you keep looking away,” Sakusa continued, because he loved watching Atsumu suffer. Bastard. “Maybe next time, keep watching.” Atsumu looked up at him, confused, and he shrugged. “You might be surprised what you see.”

With that, Sakusa stood, ignoring the team’s goodnights and trudging off to his own tent.

One by one, the other players split off as well, until with a final check-in from Meian, Atsumu was alone by the barely-cold ashes. He tipped his head back with a sigh, thinking of how few stars he could see in Osaka, trying to remember when the last time he’d visited home had been, holding off a daydream about seeing those Hyogo stars with—

“Tsumu-san, what are you doing out here by yourself?”

Atsumu let his head turn lazily, enough to hide the way his heart jumped and started hammering in his chest. He smirked at Hinata, then turned back skyward.

“Nothin’ much, Shouyou-kun. Just thinkin’.”

“About what?”

To Atsumu’s surprise, Hinata lowered himself onto the log next to Atsumu, letting their sides press together. Probably just for warmth, Atsumu told himself firmly. With the fire dead, the mountain air was a nippy enough to allow for huddling. Atsumu hummed, shrugging. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hinata look up as well.

“In high school, I used to wake up when it was still dark out, to bike over the mountain to get to Karasuno.” Hinata’s voice was soft, dream-like, almost. Atsumu turned away from the gaseous bodies above them to look at the star sitting next to him instead, and waited. Keep watching, he told himself, letting himself wonder if maybe Sakusa was on to something.  Hinata was smiling. “There were always so many stars on those bike rides,” he said. “When I moved to Rio, I’d still see them sometimes, but not as often. And of course, there’s so much light pollution in Osaka…” Hinata sighed. “I miss it sometimes.”

“Samu and I used ta go campin’ with our uncle at the end of every summer,” Atsumu said. “A lot like this, actually. He owned land on the far side of Kobe. Actually, not that far away from where my old senpai has his farm now.” Hinata looked at him, and something about the night, about the starlight washing out the color in Hinata’s hair but dancing in his eyes, about the chill in the air that wasn’t actually enough to justify how close they were sitting, about the lingering scent of campfire smoke clinging to their clothes, something made Atsumu want to be brave. And then Hinata smiled, moving the arm squished between them until his hand could snag Atsumu’s where it hung from his knee. He looked back up at Atsumu, still smiling, and squeezed.

“You should take me there sometime,” he said, and it sounded to Atsumu like he was really saying something else. Atsumu nodded.

“I’ll show ya all the places I knew as a kid,” he said, and he knew that Hinata could tell he was saying something else as well. Hinata’s smile softened for just a moment, then he turned back to the heavens and leaned against Atsumu’s shoulder.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen the sunrise in the mountains,” he murmured. Atsumu knew that wasn’t true, that Hinata had been up before dawn just that morning, and that he had risen early when living in Brazil, too. But rather than point any of that out, he simply rested his cheek on top of Hinata’s head and closed his eyes.

Come trick or treating in my inbox! Leave a “Trick or Treat” and a character or ship in an ask, and I’ll treat you to some autumn-themed fluff or trick you with some twisted spooky aus! Treat

Most of the time, Daichi’s seasonal job was more boring than anything else. He only ever worked here during the autumn, an extra hand as a favor to a friend of his uncle’s. This was the sixth - seventh? Who knew - year in a row of this, and by now the novelty had worn off.

Sure, the kids were often cute. They would run around, exclaiming at pumpkins larger than themselves, chattering about what they had learned during the educational segments, clamoring to go on the hay ride or to the petting zoo. Daichi’s uncle’s friend had been uncertain of this idea at first, but the very Western-style farm activities were a hit with the kids every year.

Still, Daichi wished they would stick him somewhere - anywhere - other than at the weighing station. It was cold here, and dull at best and aggravating at worst. Sure, he was one of the few part-timers strong enough to lift the larger pumpkins onto the scales, but that didn’t mean he wanted to spend all day here. It was boring, to say the least, and he was sick of listening to people argue over prices, or try to haggle, or smuggle an extra pumpkin out under their—

Holy shit that’s a lot of pumpkins.

Holy shit that’s a cute guy.

Send me a color and a character/ship and I'll write you a ficlet that feels like that color.

The coffee shop was largely empty, which was strange for nine in the morning on a Saturday. Shouyou sat with his latte, blowing away steam and smiling to himself when he walked in.

Shouyou had noticed him roughly a year before, probably on his second or third trip to this coffee shop. He had noticed that, no matter what the weather or the condition of his stress, Ushijima showed up every day. Much like Shouyou himself. They sat on opposite sides of the shop and rarely exchanged more than a friendly nod.

Shouyou was desperately in love.

He was in love with the way Ushijima’s shoulders slanted, easy and calm as he read his texts, or sharp and tense as he read the newspaper (and who read the newspaper any more, I mean, come on-). He was in love with the soft smile Ushijima would give the barista, or the way he’d ask after their mothers or their kids or their dogs. He was in love with Ushijima’s order, a double-shot caramel macchiato with whipped cream, and the laugh he’d give when a new barista would look at him incredulously for the topping.

But today, today was special. Today was the day Shouyou was going to talk ot Ushijima. So he stood up, took one last swig of his latte, and started striding across the shop.

“Listen up,” he said, jabbing a finger in Ushijima’s face. “I’ve been watching you for a year, and it’s high time you man up and take me on a date. We’re going to dinner next Friday, at that restaurant by the park, and then you’re gonna hold my hand and we’re gonna walk through the park and you’re gonna tell me about your dog and your grandmother and it’s going to be perfect. Got it?”

Ushijima blushed a deep red, but he looked at Shouyou evenly. “I had planned to take you for a picnic instead, but if you would rather have a formal dinner, that can be arranged,” he said.

It was Shouyou’s turn to blush, but he powered through. “Picnic is better,” he said. Then he nodded to himself more than Ushijima and turned on his heel, dumping his empty latte cup in the trash, and strode out of the door.

As soon as he was out of sight, he let himself bury his face in his hands and grin. He had a date, with the most perfect man in the universe.

Come trick or treating in my inbox and I'll surprise you with some autumn fluff or something sad and twisted!

Trick

The song floated sweet and strong. Wakatoshi had known what he would find, and had ordered the crew to stuff their ears with wax. But it hadn’t been enough.

There were stories that sirens were more powerful than any thought. That they could reach into one’s mind as well as one’s ears, if they found one intriguing enough. No one else on the crew seemed effected. Not even when the laughter rang out among the rocks.

Wakatoshi stepped up to the helm and nudged Shirabu aside. Shirabu let him take over, his trust in his captain complete. But Wakatoshi would do anything for that laughter, anything at all.

Semi was the first to realize what was happening. He was strong, but Wakatoshi was stronger. It wasn’t until Tendou and Reon realized what Semi was trying to do that they managed to get Wakatoshi away from the helm.

Desperation clawed at Wakatoshi’s ribs. He had to get to that voice. That beautiful, laughing voice that promised him the world. The crew was advancing on him, hands held out plaintively, but he couldn’t hear their calming voices. All he could hear was the promise, and the laughter.

So he turned and dove off the side of the ship.

As he sank, as the wax fell from his ears, he thought he could hear the panic of his crew, his family. But then he saw him.

Small, with curling orange hair and brown eyes alight with mischief, the siren was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Fangs sprang from behind smiling lips, and Wakatoshi knew he had made the right choice.

Darkness began to cloud the corners of his vision as the little siren swam closer, his tiny hands on Wakatoshi’s cheeks.

Right here was Hajime’s favorite place to be. Tucked into Hinata’s arms, nuzzling at the crook of his neck, listening to him blabber on and on about his day. Hajime was only half-following, enough to know what was important to his love, but more focused on the sound of his voice than the actual words. 

“Are you listening to me?” Hinata asked, a laugh in his voice and his fingers in Hajime’s hair.

“As long as you keep doing that? Absolutely,” Hajime replied.

“No, really.”

“Yes, I’m listening,” Hajime laughed. “You were telling me about Kageyama’s failure at the jump-float serve.”

“He sucks at it!” Hinata shouted.

“Mhm,” Hajime said, nuzzling closer. “I love you.”

“Wha-?” Hinata’s fingers stopped moving and Hajime made a displeased noise. 

“You are the sun in my sky and the light of my life,” Hajime said, butting his head up against Hinata’s hand.

“That was so sappy, I might vomit,” Hinata droned.

“Whatever, just keep petting me,” Hajime said. 

“All right,” Hinata laughed, and his fingers resumed their circular motions on Hajime’s scalp.

Hajime thought about it as Hinata launched into another description of Kageyama falling flat on his ass. Hajime was so, very, incredibly in love. He’d thought he’d known love before, but that was nothing compared to this. That was a single star, while this? This was the sun, the moon, the Milky Way at night. Hajime snorted; he’d been hanging around Oikawa too much.

“Whatcha thinking about?” The question startled Hajime, and he realized that Hinata had stopped talking some time ago.

“Sorry,” he said. Hinata tweaked his nose.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Just answer the question.”

“I was thinking about you,” Hajime admitted.

“What about me?” There was the smug, competitive air in Hinata’s voice that Hajime loved so much. 

“I was thinking about spending the rest of my life with you,” Hajime said.

“Now I know I’m gonna vomit.”

“Please don’t,” Hajime said. “At least not until I get through this proposal.”

“Pro-”

“Shouyou,” Hajime said, leaning up on his elbow so he could look at Hinata properly. “Marry me.”

“I-” Hinata began shaking. Then all at once his eyes lit up and he yelled, “No fair!”

“What?”

“I was gonna do it!” Hinata shouted. “I had this whole plan, a ring and everything, and we were gonna go out to this surprise dinner tomorrow night, and ugh, you’re the worst!”

“Is that a yes?” Hajime droned.

“No! Not until I get my fancy dinner over with! Then yes!”

“Okay,” Hajime laughed. “That’s fine by me.”

Hey hey hey, look at me, doing prompts, like a good Cal!

Send me a color and a ship and I'll write a ficlet that feels like that color.

There was paint all up Hinata’s arms, and his tongue was sticking out between his lips in concentration. Asahi wasn’t much better, his hair escaping his bun and a smear of blue on his cheek. Tetsurou stared at the two of them, his throat going dry and his own painting forgotten.

“Tetsu, what’re you doing?” Hinata laughed. “You’re like three steps behind!”

“Oh,” Tetsurou said, intelligently. He reached over and backed up the video tutorial they were watching.

Try as he might, Tetsurou simply wasn’t an artist. His brain was more wired for numbers, chemistry equations and physic problems. If train A left the station at twelve-thirty…

Asahi wasn’t much better, but at least he enjoyed it. He loved laughing at his own awkward drawings and muddy paintings. For Tetsurou, it was a stress he endured only because it made his lovers happy.

Hinata, on the other hand…

“And done!” he said, grinning triumphantly at his finished painting. Tetsurou looked over at it and groaned.

It was beautiful. Probably better than the example that the lady on the video had painted. It was full of Hinata’s signature wild strokes, but it was delicate in a way that Tetsurou’s simply wasn’t.

“You’re perfect, Shou,” Tetsurou said, and Hinata blushed. He shrunk in his chair ever so slightly, like he did every time someone praised him for something other than volleyball.

“Hey, what about me?” Asahi laughed.

“You’re perfect too, babe, but this is Shouyou’s moment, okay?” Asahi laughed again.

“No, no, let’s talk about Asahi!” Hinata cried. Tetsurou shook his head, grinning smarmily.

“Nope. You’re perfect, beautiful. From your curls to your toes.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Hinata’s cheek, and Asahi picked up the game.

“You do everything with a passion that leaves me breathless,” Asahi said, picking up Hinata’s hand and bringing his fingers one by one to his lips. “You’re beautiful, inside and out.”

“Guys, it’s just a painting!” Hinata protested. Tetsurou shook his head.

“If you think that’s all we’re talking about then we’re gonna be her a while, baby,” he said. Hinata groaned, snatching his hand back from Asahi and shoving Tetsurou away so he could bury his head in his hands.

“You’re both horrible,” he muttered.

“That’s why you married us,” Asahi quipped. “Now, are you going to help us clean up or what?”