#SakuAtsu After a match a 5-year old fan attempts to adorn Sakusa’s hair with flowers. Except he’s allergic. He sneezes and backs away, looking apologetic for once. He knows the kid meant well by the quiver of her lips and the tears in her cheeks, sorrys spilling from her mouth.+
One week later the kid watches another match. Atsumu watches wide eyed as Sakusa falls on one knee. The little girl takes out a plastic flower crown and gently places it on curly, raven hair.

“Now you can wear it anytime, Sakusa-senshu! It will never die or make you sick!” +
The girl reaches out to stroke Sakusa’s hair. He lets her. “You can clean it, too!” Sakusa smiles brightly at that, his lips curling with the twisting in Atsumu’s stomach.

Atsumu lost track of the conversation, eyes locked on the faux flowers and the definitely-not-fake smile +
when Sakusa turns towards him. The smile is still there, eyes glinting with the blinding smile, enamoring his senses so much his ears belatedly register the energetic “Miya-senshu! Miya-senshu!”

The kid walks towards him, another flower crown in tow. It’s only then that he +
sees the rest of the team sporting flower crowns that fit their personalities. Hinata’s is an blinding mix of yellows and oranges and Kageyama looks like he’s glitching on the side. Bokuto has humongous black & white flowers with fake thorns that he’s been flexing at Akaashi. +
Sakusa’s is filled with yellows and fake foliage, reminiscent of his high school jersey. He stood out then and he shines now, so radiant it’s infuriating.

Atsumu looks down and sees a flower crown of reds and golds. The kid is ecstatic as Atsumu bends down and she sets the +
crown on Atsumu’s blonde hair. “Sakusa-senshu is right. You look good in red and gold!”

A beat. A blink. Another. “What?”

But the kid is gone, running towards her mother. So he goes straight to the horse’s mouth. +
“Hey, Omi,” he begins, walking towards Sakusa as he tilts his head. The flowers sway with him. “What do ya mean when ya said I look good in red and gold?”

An eyebrow rises, hiding under locks of hair. “That snitch.” There’s fondness in his tone, though, accented by a small smile
“You don’t think you look good in that?” He shrugs and gestures his hand vaguely towards Atsumu.

Is it the gold medal on his neck? His hair? The gold accents in his jersey?

Atsumu tries not to think about it too much. /He’s thinking about me now./

“What about the red, then?”+
“You’ve always looked good in your high school jacket even if it clashed with your hair,” he says ever so bluntly.

Atsumu tries not to think about what that implies. /He thought about me before./

“And the national team’s red is becoming a near possibility for you, so.” +
He finishes it with a nonchalance shrug as Atsumu tries not to think about what it means. /He’s thinking about me days, weeks from now./

Red, huh? Like the blood rushing to his face as he turns away. “Cut the crap, Omi.”

Another steely glare, futile amidst the plastic flowers.+
“You’re stupid if you think you’re not making the team, Miya.”

Atsumu looks up and Sakusa is already—/still/—staring. He looks at the guy who has thought of, is thinking of, and will be thinking of him.

He looks back at his own history, unfolding the timeline of his life. +
There are several moments, several items vacated by the person who has him in mind, his name tacked beside the bullet points of his life like moles on skin—stark and profound.

A nasty spin on Interhigh, a seemingly once in a lifetime set on a training camp shifting to tentative+
tosses on a tryout before cementing towards daily drills and sets tailormade for hypermobile wrists.

There’s only the unknown future ahead of Atsumu. No bullets set in stone, no names yet to dry, only a mass expanse of uncertainty. +
He realizes, then and there, that he wants those bullet points. Those moles. That name.

That goddamned yellow-green plastic flower crown and the man wearing it.

He realizes that he wants Kiyoomi in the canvas of his future, on the grooves on his skin. +
All because of a /flower crown/. How stupid is he?

“You better make it to the team too, Omi-kun.”

“Of course, Miya.” There it is: that smug grin curving like a surefire service ace, solidifying his spot in Atsumu’s future.

A stance. A declaration. +
“Better change yer flower crown then. Could use some reds in there.”

Sakusa huffs a laugh. “Nah. She’ll kill me if I do. Besides…”

Sakusa walks towards Atsumu, taking off his flower crown and removing Atsumu’s. Red and gold sit atop raven hair. “I can just borrow yours.”
// end

sometimes i think of a prompt and i get carried away. this is one of those moments lol

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More from @liliapocalypse

26 Mar
WAIT #SakuAtsu SOULMATES AU but their soulmates chose someone else (Waka w/ Tendou & Kita w/ Aran). They can’t quite move on but they want to show their soulmates that they’re fine, so they sign up for a blind dating app with others who have been left behind by their soulmates.+
They both leave early from training, acting way too suspicious about their evening plans. Then they see each other on the bar where the matches are supposed to meet. Sakusa looks sharp in his navy blue button-down and Atsumu is dashing in his red silk top. +
They bathe in denial for a while. They approach other people, checking phones to see if the codes match with literally anyone else but their MSBY teammate. Sakusa is /livid/ as Atsumu approaches him with a sigh, the code similar to his unmistakeably flashed on Atsumu’s phone. +
Read 12 tweets
19 Mar
#SakuAtsu Prof Mama Miya lowkey showing Atsumu off (not Osamu, he’s taken for years now) by putting his pictures in her slides whenever she can hoping her students take an interest in him. A subtle advertising technique befitting the class. Sakusa is her student. It works. 👀+
Mama Miya uses Atsumu for memes. Omi thinks his prof’s son has no right looking /that/ hot with a bedhead. Mama Miya places family pictures whenever she can, sometimes letting the laptop linger on her wallpaper. Kiyoomi thinks the blond shouldn’t look that good in a maroon suit.
And if Prof Miya catches Omi reading through the papers pinned on the College of Architecture’s bulletin board (Mama Miya has mentioned her son’s course SO many times), hoping to know the boy’s name, what then? What if she says, “It’s Atsumu, Sakusa-kun”? Omi might just drop out.
Read 12 tweets
14 Mar
#SakuAtsu Everyone in MSBY is still shocked whenever Kiyoomi sits beside Atsumu, pouting and nudging his head on Atsumu’s shoulder with a hairtie between his fingers.

Atsumu smiles endearingly, taking the tie. “Donut?” Omi nods as Atsumu ties Omi’s long curly hair to a bun. +
That’s how they got together, after all. Because of Covid, Omi’s hair grew so long that he has to tie it. He often went for a ponytail because he can’t do a bun but he hated the way his hair flicked against his face as he played.

Until one day Atsumu offered to tie it for him. +
Kiyoomi let him. It’s not a big deal, he thought, until Atsumu’s fingers carded through his hair, the pads brushing softly against his scalp it made Kiyoomi sigh, his body pliant.

“How do you know how to do this, Miya?”

“Our town is a small so my nieces are always around. +
Read 22 tweets
12 Mar
#SakuAtsu hurt/comfort

On days when everything’s too much, when Omi is so overwhelmed he can’t even hold a conversation, he either wants to be held or to be left alone.

It’s hard to figure out sometimes, but Atsumu found a solution: he’d nudge his nose against Omi’s. +
Atsumu will sit beside Omi in the couch, mindful not to touch anything else as he leans in to peer at Omi’s eyes. Then he’ll brush his nose against Omi’s. If Omi presses his nose back, Atsumu will hold out his arms and wrap them around Omi as Omi melts against his body. +
Today, the second scenario makes itself known as Omi bumps his nose back briefly before pulling away. Atsumu wants to hold him now more than ever, but he knows better.

So he stands and makes tea for Omi, still steaming as he sets it down the table. +
Read 7 tweets
5 Mar
Dating #SakuAtsu combing through their things as they get ready to move in together when Sakusa sees a photo of Atsumu's middle school team.

"You're making fun of our Itachiyama jersey when you used to wear yellow?"

"Omi, at least it's not a gradient. With green. GREEN, OMI." + ImageImage
"Besides, I have ensured that doesn't happen ever again! Look, I have black for Itachiyama /and/ MSBY."

"Atsumu, love, did you go to MSBY because they have a black jersey? If Adlers had a black jersey would you have chosen them instead?"

"..."

"Atsumu..."

"..."
"What about the JNT jersey then? It's red. Does that mean you won't even try out for it?"

"Of course I will! That's the /Olympics/."

"..."

"And I was okay with the red Inarizaki jacket anyway."

"..."

"Also I look /hot/ in red. Are ya kiddin' me, Omi?"

"Oh my god, Atsumu."
Read 5 tweets
2 Mar
#SakuAtsu Kiyoomi, in all his athleticism, has two left feet; a 6’3 uncoordinated lump of bones.

Atsumu makes up for the few centimeters in grace and rhythm, his body in time with the music.

So when Sakusa freezes at the news of a V. League ball, Atsumu offers to teach him.
He’ll say it’s out of concern. It’d be fun to see Sakusa stagger around the gala, stripped off his smugness for once, but it would feel more like laughing /at/ him, and Atsumu didn’t like that.

He’d rather see Sakusa, 6 foot of bones and muscle, trip over himself in private, +
where Sakusa can flip him off and make fun of Atsumu’s faux expertise so it would be more like laughing /with/ him.

That’s not what he says when Sakusa asks why he even offered.

Instead, he says, “I’m the best teacher ya got right now, so take it or leave it, Omi-kun!”
Read 19 tweets

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