elysium

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔ not a minor 聖臣’ ♡ s

[shiinyoomi]

sakusa&motoya cousin sleepovers where they just shittalk other teams, leaving some people wondering why kiyoomi suddenly dislikes a guy he barely talked to when in reality komori complained about him being an ass so they agreed to ignore him

[shiinyoomi]

Kiyoomi 100% has a weird thing for legs.

And I wouldn’t call it weird if he didn’t sulk every time you wore pants or jeans instead of shorts or skirts which he had an obvious bias for, judging by how his online shopping carts were always full of them, you know, just because he’s so insisted on spoiling you.

And it really doesn’t matter if they’re swollen after another flight to accompany him on an away game or a vacation during break season, cold, bruised, he doesn’t mind it, never did. Always insists on having them in his lap during movie nights, hand on your knee when in public, eyes trained on the ankles or watching the way your muscles shift when you walk.

You still find yourself laughing at how obvious and shameless he is about it, to the point where a good chunk of photos with both of you taken by strangers is just him staring stubbornly at your legs, knowing that later he’ll have them swung over his shoulders.

[shiinyoomi]

if kiyoomi had an even somewhat shorter partner he’d absolutely pick up an asshole habit of leaning down to be “at an eye level” when said partner is already irritated as fuck

[shiinyoomi]

Simon is like.. comically large. You used to joke about it, sure, with the way he loomed around the aisles in supermarkets or how easy it was to spot him in a crowd, always in a hoodie that you tended to steal when flat got colder during autumn.

He never minded it, thought you were exaggerating, yeah, but definitely didn’t get offended. He wasn’t blind to his own build and height, especially when others had to look up to talk to him. But the one time he figured out you were right was the evening you dragged him to a sauna. It was supposed to be relaxing, just a moment spent between both of you after a tiring day of doing chores, and it was up until the moment he tried to sit on the bench after you took your spot.

Thing is, he didn’t fit. Almost slipped off right on his tailbone the first time before stubbornly trying to sit again, his back alone took the whole spot, touching the hot wood while you laughed at him.

“Told you it wasn’t the brightest idea, love.”

“You know you can probably lay on the floor.”

Which he did, with a couple of grunts settling on the floor while holding onto the white towel on his hips, trying to have some dignity.

“Must be a bloody cremation trial.”

[shiinyoomi]

Simon appreciates routine.

Amongst the chaos that military had brought to his life, the lingering stress in the back of his mind that never quite fully leaves, the need to be ready at beck and call 24/7 in case another threat comes up, he could never let himself indulge in what was considered normal. An alarm set for the same time every day, ironing a shirt in the evening to wear tomorrow, he tried recreating it in his own ways, grocery trips on Thursday, unless he was sent off, which means that the trip will happen on weekend, gym three days a week, feeding some black cat around his block and at times letting the bugger in when the streets got too cold, but it never really satisfied him.

Maybe that was one of the major changes when you came along, stumbling down beside him on the bed to complain about your job like clockwork, making him want to plan dates for you at least once every two weeks, restocking on something familiar, pills, that cream you said moisturises the best during harsher seasons, specific kind of chips that are just right for a movie night. With you came the comfort of knowing what’s next, that instead of quick work of some beef jerky and water there will be a cup of tea and something to eat waiting before he has to get deployed again.

And he wasn’t sure of many things in his life, but seeing your face smushed against his pillow while you sleep cuddled up in his sweatshirt - he’s certain that everything else in his life could fail, but the relationship you’ve came to have has to work out.

[shiinyoomi]

Kiyoomi has always been clingy, that’s something his mother jokingly warned you about during one of the family dinners after another game he had won in the last year of high school. You’ve managed to grow into this family, whether it was making Mandu with his grandma on lunar new year or third-and-forthweeling his older sister and her at-the-time fiance around yet another mall or park, hangouts with both Sakusa and Motoya, watching the cousins practice volleyball while you sat to the side, guarding cups with boba.

You’ve heard the “embarrassing” stories from his childhood, from his brother about little Kiyoomi always insisting on being cuddled up during plane rides, or his mother about how he still naps in her lap like he always did, minus the drooling now that he’s somewhat grown up, his sister told you all about how cute he was, whenever he fell asleep in her room while she was preparing for her university entrance exam. He always got flustered, shooing them off with red ears and dismissing it as something from the past as to not embarrass himself in front of you. But the more and more comfortable he got, the more you believed every absurd story from his family. There were moments when he insisted on wrapping around you like a vine while lying in bed, other times he’d put his head against yours in long lines when everything seemed too slow and annoying, the older you got the bolder he became with expressing his need for physical affection, and safe to say you didn’t mind it one bit.

[shiinyoomi]

whoever came up with headcanons of Kiyoomi being half Korean and coming from a loaded family I owe you

[shiinyoomi]

not so successful fuck buddies with sakusa???

You’ve known each other since high school and somewhat ever since then grew to be close friends ever since that time he got your number during the first year, and at this rate, after graduating uni and having a full time job, while Kiyoomi was too busy with volleyball to try and date, or maybe that was an excuse on his part, you tried getting together with some people, dinners, walks, texts that led nowhere. And having to hear your complaints about yet another person that didn’t fit, about dying a quote unquote “old virgin” while both of you were sitting on the couch in his apartment, he suddenly asked.

“So you never had it?”

“Sex?”

He looked startled for a moment as you voiced it before nodding, shifting the glass of wine in his hand, “yeah… I thought you’d-“

“No, never. Can’t be sure with other people, I’m too picky for that.”

Kiyoomi stayed silent for a moment before meeting your eyes, “we could try, if you want.”

That’s about the way it began, people knew about you, Sakusa’s close friend, the one who stood in the stands waiting for him after games, whom he mentioned in some of the interviews, what they didn’t know is that you’re the same person he had bent over the kitchen island after yet another successful game, another time when instead of going to the team dinner he drove straight home where you already waited, hips driving into the plush of your ass with soft groans, dumping in a condom before throwing it away with a quiet “thanks”, to which you only replied “that’s what friends are for”.

He lived with those words for months, with pretending that kisses during meant nothing serious, that he didn’t get jealous when another man did as little as look your way, but with each day beside you it only became more and more insufferable instead of simply passing as he had hoped. It was after yet another evening of picking you up from work with a bag of takeout where it led to having you in his bed, propped on your side with your leg lifted in the air while he moved back and forth lazily, gasping for air when he spoke.

“I want you here…”

You could only chuckle at the words, thinking it’s another implication before he kept going.

“In my life… beside me, here in the morning and when I come home, want people to know that I’m yours, fully,” with his hand sliding up your thigh while he nuzzled into your neck, “is it too much to ask for?..”

He sounded sincere which almost made you stop altogether, but his hand had already reached out to take your chin in between his fingers, turning your face towards him, “Answer me.”

With a particularly sharp thrust of his hips you finally cracked open, hand finding his feverishly “I want it too…”

“Use your words for me,” you heard him mumbled, nipping at your neck.

“I want more, I want you.”

Kiyoomi’s stubbornness rarely failed him, growing up he learned that determination and perfectionism will get him about anywhere in life, which he only made sure of yet again when the next day your clothes started moving into his space, like your shoes were always supposed to be on the rack next to his, toothbrushes in one cup, watches on one shelf and you going to bed right next to him, like he had always wanted.

[sammroo167]

It cracks me up that Joy Kwon, an American Korean who Western media loves to slot into that duty‑driven overachiever and tireless‑workhorse stereotype, be the one to triumphantly claim her right to clock off on time.

Legend. Unionise that floor, diva.

[shiinyoomi]

Simon never felt like he truly had anything in his grasp, as long as he remembers himself things just managed to slip through his fingers before he could have a say in the way they changed. Growing up he'd lost friends, the kind of guys you'd see in Manchester back in the day, gangly, rude and too scared to be vulnerable, to them admitting feelings or importance of something meant weakness, and Simon stored it away in the back of his mind for the foreseeable future, days spent in military where it seemed that only fate truly had any control over the shifts in his routine now that he carved his way up to the special forces with that velcro patch slapped to his chest, like his captain's hand tried to translate the weight of his newborn responsibilities.

People his age had bigger problems, houses, talking to realtor companies over the phone while their kids whale in the background, crying for an ounce of attention from their parents which were too busy to take care of the life they created and instead dipping in strangers' beds to seek solace. Divorces, lovers on the side, stepchildren, the weight of bigger, "grown-up" emotions that laid heavy - like jealosy. And he dreamed of it, experiencing it one day should he overhear another soldier talking about who's waiting back home.

People say not to seek love, that it comes around when you least expect it, but nobody wants to admit the selfish tingling at the sight of others being happy with somebody like it's just a given should you become mature. How do even know that it's genuine, that they're the "one" people speak about? Simon wasn't sure if it was you, couldn't trust himself to hope when he met you in that shop just around the corner, face tilted upwards at the shelves of beer, lips a little parted as you stood wrapped up in a wool coat. He took a moment to stare, more so out of curiosity before reaching for two bottles of craft.

"Excuse me", you chirped out, noticing the man beside you, "what would you recommend?"

Simon didn’t pride himself as a man of refined tastes, that is to say that he only had an occassional pint outside with some people from work or like in this case - store bought beer to have later at home with a box of chinese takeout, but he still inspected the stickers with you, mumbling out something about the whole selection being shit and making you laugh. It came as a matter of course with you, first the stroll around the store, then helping you take the bags, a promise to see each other again for beer that was actually good, you slipped into his life like something that was meant to be long before you have the chance to realise it. He came to understand the boys in barracks whenever duty called, being away was torture in itself, the lack of your presence too heavy in his chest, daydreaming of coming back alive to see you again, to take you out and get another photo of a bra that was hidden behind a button up or your cat sitting on a jumper he left behind before the deployment, he had more of those ever since he joined the task force you knew little about except for the fact that there were three other guys beside him.

It felt like being grounded in the best way possible, he could feel the weight of his heart when the two of you were outside on the balcony of his flat, big hands snug on your hips while smoke rushed fom your lips somewhere to the city that just started waking up, it was a sight, one standing right before him in a tank top, hair a mess and face still puffy, harsh, cold air from outside forcing goosebumps on your skin. You felt like home, like what his mom would wish for him to have, and now Simon was sure in it more than ever, lying beside you with his phone blinding his face in the middle of the night in search of the perfect house for you to settle.

[shiinyoomi]

how does a relationship Sakusa Kiyoomi taste like?

Kiyoomi knew that with his job there would come distance in your lives, since every now and then he’d need to be away for games and won’t always be with you. So with time you had to start sharing a google calendar to see when you can call or pick him up from the airport, but one time he accidentally spoilt your birthday surprise by writing down his plan for the day in the shared calendar instead of his personal one. You still acted surprised by everything he had done, but the memory of the expression Sakusa made when you eventually said where he wrote all about it still makes you laugh.

He’s a sucker for subtle touch, although he doesn’t like PDA, linking pinkies or feeling your head on his shoulder in long lines grounds better than anything. Each time you have to attend dinner together, whether it’s with family or his team, Kiyoomi makes sure to have his hand on your leg under the table.

Doesn’t usually get into arguments with you, establishing middle grounds was one of the foundations of your relationship after all, but whenever you get into minor fights, he needs some time alone, not to punish with silence but to understand where both of you were coming from before suggesting a compromise.

Only time he ever willingly answered rumours was the time both of you were seen with his nieces and people assumed Kiyoomi managed to get married and have kids without anyone noticing, safe to say watching him type out a straight to the point post was about as entertaining as it gets.

Loves getting you jewellery, he’s seen it growing up, his father giving watches to his brother, mother gifting earrings or bracelets to his sister, so ever since the two of you got together it became a normal occurrence to look for pieces that would suit you. But his personal favourite is the promise ring on your finger that’s been there since the last year of high school.

Is conflicted 24/7, as much as he wants to show you off, with every ounce of attention you’re getting he wants to do nothing but keep you to himself.

His curls get messy every morning, some time ago it became the reason why he began styling it in the first place, trying to tame them, but when both of you finally moved in together - you brushing his hair and helping him keep it neat for the day became part of the routine.

Cherishes every moment spent together, people don’t take Kiyoomi for a sentimental person but there’s a plethora of photos and mementos plastered all him of you, the omamori you had made for him back when he was playing for his university’s volleyball team, polaroids tied to a string in your bedroom, you splayed out on the couch in his hoodie as his phone’s wallpaper. Atsumu has picked up on the keychains he carried on his bags, the only spots of colour contrasting with his otherwise minimalistic belongings.

You knew family means a lot to him, back in the day seeing them for the first time made you feel intimidated, like you had to impress them or prove your loyalty to their son. But now that you’ve practically become a part of it, Kiyoomi’s grandmas coo over you each time they see you at another family event. And seeing you fit so well at that empty spot at the table beside him is all he could ask for.

more kiyoomi here: 1 & 2

[shiinyoomi]

Sakusa didn’t have the word “like” in a romantic sense in his vocabulary, or maybe it was simply his insistence that he was only really capable of liking things that are either good or useful, he liked specific knee bands, having umeboshi his housekeeper back home always made, liked the feelings of sweat still hot on his skin after another victory, having control over his space and most importantly mind, where you managed to cause complete havoc.

He always kept it simple, whatever there was within his usual, routine thoughts, fillings meals with balanced nutrients, his favourite band playing in his earphones during warm ups and workouts, what to wear when he comes home after another day of practicing with the rest of the team but you wrecked that, you always did. Kiyoomi had known you for years, one of the few friends he had met in school beside well, Iizuna and a guy from the basketball team that turned out to be an IT specialist, you made leaving Tokyo harder than it was supposed to be, the day he graduated university was the day he knew he’d end up in Osaka with the rest of the Black Jackals. That evening he sat in front of you at a sushi bar you frequented, he had always insisted on coming here, a spot his sister brought him to whenever she could back in the day, but unlike any other time he was practically silent, usually it’d be talk about something from home or showing you clips from yet another match and complaining about other teams.

“Omi?” you finally spoke when he kept staring at his glass of rice wine.

He hesitated for a moment, eyes darting elsewhere, he shouldn’t get this nervous around his closest friend, “I’ll have to leave to Osaka, settle there with MSBY.”

“You got picked? Already?” you ask, grinning unlike how he’d imagined the reaction you will have, mulling over it for the past week.

“Yes, they saw me as the MVP and they’ve seen me play but I thought I’d.. be staying here.”

“It’s… great, good for you. New city, good team, new people.”

“And you won’t be there,” he blurted out, looking up at you, chopsticks discarded on one of the plates with sashimi.

That made you stop for a brief second, looking for the right words before managing a chuckle, “and I will stay here, doing my boring job and watching your games until you maybe get transferred here in five or ten years, who knows.”

“That’s not enough,” he replied, brows furrowing like you missed the entire point, “I.. I’m used to seeing you, on games or out of the court. It’s not the same, I don’t like it.”

“And what, you will just turn down the proposal like that?”

He wanted to protest again, to argue about it so you’d make him change his mind and look for a place here in his home city, meet in the evenings, go grocery shopping before sleepovers like you were seventeen again and life was a little easier. And you saw the uncertainty, the way his mouth curled like it did when he had to be benched because of minor injuries, so you reached out to hold his hand, curling your fingers around his palm to rub it soothingly, “it’s only two hours away, we can… meet each other, you can always come here and I can visit you anytime. We’ll be alright.”

We’ll be alright? It sounded like you’re about to go distance dating and not wave your friend goodbye on a Shinkansen and go back to your life for a month or so before he eventually comes back for the weekend to crash at your apartment.

But it wasn’t really as you pictured it, the first year he had as a professional volleyball player was long and spontaneous, first brand deals, trips to China, Western Europe and Southeastern Asia, texts from different time zones and hours spent wishing he could be with you instead of being squeezed with a bunch of sweating guys in yet another changing room with little to no privacy, and that’s being generous. At this rate he was ready to pray for a home game, with all the training camps he’d spent weeks at and games anywhere but where you’d get the chance to be present the distance became unbearable. Somehow in the usual flow of his thoughts throughout the day he got more and more distracted with the idea of you, how well you ate when he wasn’t there to nag you about your eating habits, what music did you listen to this morning when going to work, the occasional and annoying possibility that you might’ve met someone who managed to replace him and be there in a way he wasn’t brave enough to fulfil yet.

It all came swarming once again when he finally got a game in Osaka, sitting in the locker room and warming up his hands, there was chatting in the background he couldn’t care to decipher now, he wanted to get it over with, the game and the press right after, before he could even get a second to catch his breath because people seemed to pick an interest in him, as if privacy he used as a shield for his personal shenanigans was more of a mystery for them to unravel rather than a boundary to respect. He couldn’t wait to finally get the tickets away for their break and go back to Tokyo and see you, go to morning runs after taking a look at you still asleep and sprawled out on the bed, picking up breakfast that was more of a craving rather than the usual nutritious meal he’d go for, watch you walk out of the bathroom with wet hair and probably in one of his shirts he secretly liked seeing you in.

But the reality pulled back the moment he heard Meian speak about the match, the usual routine he followed to lift the team’s spirit, something about hard work and kicking asses before a slap on his shoulder made him head to the court. Kiyoomi was determined, he needed to win this alongside others and get to claim the promised days off after season, needed to see you and say the words he’d been rehearsing for so long to get it off his chest, his focus so torn between the ball’s trajectory and your face in the back of his mind, haunting every living second, that he didn’t notice the judge blow the whistle before he was suddenly crowded by the rest of the team, laughing and yelling when he realised that they’d won by a fair amount of points. He couldn’t fight the smile, looping two arms around the others when he suddenly heard a familiar voice from the tribunes, his head snapped up almost immediately when he noticed you, practically front row in his jersey and a pair of jeans, hands clasped together as you smiled from ear to ear. Sakusa couldn’t believe his own eyes when he pulled back from the rest, signaling frantically for you to come down, meeting you in the middle as his arms wrapped around you tighter than they ever did, inhaling the scent of your perfume, grounding and familiar, hand holding the back of your neck while his face nuzzled into your hair, his breath more shallow now as adrenaline spiked up again.

“You’re here,” he whispered, not yet noticing the cameras going off in your direction, too far gone in how good your hands warmed his back.

“Of course I am.. wanted it to be a surprise,” you murmured, grinning at him from under your baseball cap like it’d in any way help conceal your identity, “may I congratulate the winner?”

He smiled at that, brows furrowing cockily, “you may.”

Needless to say, just hours later the news outlets had gone wild over the unexpected revelation of the last game for one of Japan’s most promising teams this season, but no amount of articles covering the victory could be better than the scandalous photos of Sakusa Kiyoomi kissing a total stranger to the masses. Seems like one of the most wanted bachelors is not so single anymore.

[shiinyoomi]

Mrs. Wayne has never been one for sports per se, sure Gotham held occasional games, more often than not of hockey or basketball, closed spaces provided more comfort to those attending the events and frankly with city’s unforgiving weather better safe than wet like a rat under pouring rain. But of course there’s a first time for everything, and children of the Wayne family made sure that their mother had enough of those first times whether it was at the infamous “BatBurger” enjoying fries with all the sauces available, sitting backstage at the grand Gotham ballet hall at an extended invitation that you got for Cass to see how this world operates from the inside, running errands around Blüdhaven for Dick with Haley attached to you by hip and panting in line for a pup cup, hell even taking over a crucial role in the Enterprises for Bruce. Although one thing you haven’t expected was any of Damian’s interests, first the boy brings home a whole cow, next thing you know he’s already found his own Super, and one thing both you and Bruce were incredibly happy about - the boy’d already chosen what he wants to pursue in his life. It’s safe to say Damian has a tight schedule, school work, tutors, long hours of preparation for med school and on top of that vigilante business, it all just kept piling up but no matter how many times you’d ask if he was alright he always insisted that he can handle the workload, but whatever free time he could’ve had went tumbling down one evening when he came home from a sleepover at the Kents’, bag with clothes and probably comic books borrowed from Jon still on his shoulder, wearing a hoodie with dark pants and a coat over it, trading the usual business casual for comfort as he stood in the doorway to the dining room where you sat, scribbling something down in the notebook you always carried around.

“Mother.”

“Damian?”

He stared at you for a good couple of seconds before shifting his eyes to the floor, “I want to join a football club.”

Your eyes widened just slightly, placing the notebook aside and sitting up at the sudden words, you might’ve expected him to ask to stay over in Metropolis again next weekend or maybe go get dinner somewhere out in the city but definitely not something he barely showed interest in before. “Why football?”

Damian thought of it for a solid moment before blurting out, “because i want to?”, like he might’ve thought it was hard for you to believe.

And so week hasn’t passed before you had already signed him up for a club under the Gotham Academy, then came the uniform, schedule and the first time he ever stepped on grass with those spiked shoes while you Bruce stood on the sidelines, both dressed in jeans and polos, something far more casual than the usual suits and whatnot like you could fit in with the rest of the parents standing there watching kids run around and hoping Damian’s stamina would get low enough for their child to get ahold of the ball.

Bruce’s attention was fixed on his son, eyes going back and forth and hands holding onto the fencing so tight his whole body went rigid, making you laugh and reach out to lightly rub his shoulder.

“Relax, it’s his first time practicing, stop watching him like a hawk.”

“Am not.”

“You are.”

He sighed and leaned back, hands on his hips before looking aside right at the moment Damian scored another goal and his head snapped back to look at it.

“I think we owe him a run to batburger after that.”

more batmom!reader with damian .✦ ݁˖

[shiinyoomi]

let’s emote with father

[shiinyoomi]

people would rather complain about the lack of content with certain shows/characters than actually start making it themselves

it’s not always about disinterest, many people care about the feedback and the reactions their work gets so authors and artists shift their attention to bigger fandoms or more well known characters but of course it’s easier to whine about how no one “actually appreciates” your fave rather than making the content you want so bad yourself

[shiinyoomi]

hii! I'm not sure if you take requests, but if you do then I have a little idea!

Simon Riley x figure skater!reader when he sees her skating for the first time, and he thinks he's just watching her practice regular skating and then all of a sudden she's doing jumps and twirls and performing an entire ass routine like it's nothing?

No rush or pressure at all, and I totally get if you don't take requests too!!

first ask ever oh my god i need a manager now,, no problem with requests by the way

Simon was a man of many skills, that's one of the things that came with the job, whether it was becoming a coding specialists against his will or swimming through water dirtier than the Thames river without any complains. He was quite confident that there wasn't anything he couldn't get the hang of after a couple trials but then came you. And it wasn't even the relationship part that he couldn't fulfill, quite the opposite actually, as despite being called to do his job at any given minute he still tried to be present and meet whatever expectation may come with dating you, planning dates, having a list of likes and dislikes in everything from food to the fabric of your clothes and most importantly taking part in your hobbies. Now, he could guarantee that he'd have no problem whatsoever with meeting you in the middle when it came to interests, he'd expected building a home library together book by book or doing pottery on the weekends but definetely not getting dragged to ice rinks of all places possible.

It was the first day off post-mission, his ideal plan for the day consisted of nothing but sleeping in and maybe watching a movie in the evening with some takeout and you by his side and not anyhow being awakened by the light from your phone hitting his face which, sure, he tried hiding in the crook of your neck, still seeking your warmth, but the flashing images from one app to another were too overwhelming, especially first thing in the morning, even though it was already ten thirty.

"Wot's the matter, love?..'' you heard him grumble from behind, eyes barely parted as he stared at you.

"Sorry, did i wake you up?" you spoke up in a tone too sweet for him to handle.

"Don't worry about it, yeah?" he replied, sitting up on his side of the bed, checking the time and whatever notifications he got through the night.

"I was just trying to find the ice arena working hours, thought you might wanna tag along this time,'' you said, leaning against his shoulder, "after breakfast maybe.''

Simon looked at you with slightly furrowed eyebrows, he was well aware of the fact that you loved skating, but usually it'd be your friends accompanying you there instead of him. He mulled over your words before reluctantly grumbling and falling back on the pillows, taking you with him, "only if we stay in bed for a bit longer..''

He was new to all of this, standing at the entrance of a huge building that reminded him of a football stadium from where they had to evacuate civilians a couplr years ago, all he could do was stay back and watch you rent skates for him while your pair, the fancy white ones that he had to sharpen a couple of times, were slung over your shoulder.

Seeing Simon on actual ice was a whole different thing, it was funny enough when he wobbled down the hall to the rink itself, but watching him grab the skirting, shoulders tensing and eyes glued to his feet was priceless.

"Honey, you need to bend your knees a little..'' you tried to guide him through the process, hand on his back while you were practically floating on ice beside, laughing as he practically crouched down in a full blown plie, "not that much. Straight legs won't hold you on ice, it's like.. walking but smoother and a little bit to the sides.''

"Think i got it,'' he whispered, still holding onto dear life, "I'm alright here you can go."

"You sure?'' you asked hesitantly, hand pulling away from his back to see if he was actually okay on his own.

"Yeah, gimme me a lap or two to get used, i'll catch up."

And well that was bad lying on his part. By the time thirty minutes had passed, he had already contemplated life choices, the tiny penguins and whales that kids used to skate, which seemed a little too embarassing for a grown man, and just sitting back on the bench to watch you do laps on your own. He was so busy staring at his hands clenching the railings and trying to move his feet the way you've shown that when he finally lifted his head he was surprised to see you standing to the side with a teenage girl dressed in thermal clothes with skates that looked very similar to the pair you wore. She was holding a bottle of water, chatting with you about something he couldn't yet hear with sparkling eyes, nodding to every word you said before watching you skate off to demonstrate something he didn't quite have the name for, as in a span of mere seconds you managed to go from point A to point B with a twirl in the air, seamlessly falling on one foot and circling back to her. Simon knew that to say you loved skating was an understatement, remembered your family members recalling years spent on training and your mother complaining about how many pairs of skates you had to go through and how chipped your hands got from the cold, but seeing you in your element even years after your actual training had ended was nice.

That day Simon learnt things he never really even considered before, one, that the spin you do is apparently called an axel and the bigger one is a Salchow, and two - that even with all the preparations that came with being a part of the SAS he was not willing to show his face at the rink again.

[shiinyoomi]

Sakusa Kiyoomi who’s not so subtly obsessed with his girlfriend.

It all started lowkey, back when he just went pro and questions about the life of a promising player piled on to him, the clip of one of his first ever interview that happened off-court, and not in a conference room when they were all still covered in sweat and trying to breathe evenly, is still circling social media, the interviewer went with the anticipated question, “fans wish to know if there’s someone special outside the gyms, perhaps a partner?” to which Kiyoomi only nodded with the same level of sternness he carried during a match point.

Overtime it seemed to become much easier to let others in, he still appreciated privacy, but to know that people loved seeing him break out a grin whenever mentioning you after a good game was priceless. It was one time after an away game in Malaysia that they’d won in just two sets, he was approached by local reporters, swarming him with questions but one in particular stood out for him. So when he was asked “what do you miss about Japan?” he didn’t hold back the smile, instead leaning closer to the microphone and bluntly saying “my partner”.

Kiyoomi had already prepared for the worst when faced with the fame that’d come alongside success, he’d seen it happen before, the gossip and tabloids, people breaking up or even getting a divorce over others’ opinion, but seeing the feedback from his supporters each time a new photo of both of you walking around Osaka or visiting his family in Tokyo popped out only encouraged him to share you with the world further.

Eventually he had a whole highlight dedicated to photos of you in his instagram profile, stories piled up each year, sometimes domestic, candid ones where you’d be making cocoa or simply rearranging and cleaning his memorabilia that Sakusa had earned throughout his career, or less private moments of you walking around the streets of Rome when he took you with him to the training camp, moments from all across the world with you beside him.

It’s all gotten to the point where people recognise you in the stands when the Black Jackals are playing, some of Kiyoomi’s fans had even asked for a photo whenever you were wearing the jersey or jacket with his number.

One time on Valentine’s Day Kiyoomi had posted a photo of you sprawled out on your shared bed, hand on your heart and phone almost up your nose with a caption saying “sleeping through the special day”. He deleted it not even ten minutes later, but of course people had already screenshot it plenty of times, to this day remembering the random exposure that was gone in record time.

Safe to say one thing Sakusa was always good at was hard launching, brand deals, important events, friendships with players people wouldn’t even expect him to know, but one particular time outshined the rest of his shenanigans. It was nearing evening after a tough home game where they walked out with another win that Kiyoomi was stopped by a fan with camera angled at him, filming a video when they suddenly asked “what are you looking forward to after today?” when he simply lifted his hand, showing off the golden band on his finger, “seeing my wife”.