#nc.promptgame

[myelocin]

hiiiii nic 🥰 i saw your rb about fake titles (i think idk i’ve got bad memory even tho i legit just read it) but i was thinkin’ “cherry lipgloss” or “unspoken words”!!! anyways just ignore if you’re not doing these anymore 😌💗

hi!!! how have u been!! ;w; i’m still doin them yes but only when i actually think of sth asdfkjfdjk 

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Cherry kisses under cherry tinted lights in the backseat of Suna Rintarou’s car at 6 in the morning. He tells you hey, and touches your cheek, then laughs in your ear like it’s six at night. 

You think youth comes to you in a rush, stays like a high, and leaves with an aftertaste of something that has you craving for more pleasant against your lips. He rolls the windows down, lowers the volume of the song that you think has been on loop for at least four hours now, before he looks at you. And in that moment it’s just jade eyes against the hues of your own; bright and beaming like the morning it actually is, the smile on your face feeding into the high you’re currently in.

He licks his lips; once, then twice, before smiling at you after he lets loose a chuckle that echoes. 

“Cherry lipgloss?”

[myelocin]

at dis point m tired of being so serious abt everything so "laundry detergent" -🌾

Saturdays with Sugawara Koushi wasn’t really eventful. 

Grading some papers in the morning, a late brunch around noon, some phone calls by the balcony around three, then finally, a late load of laundry at five. He smiles, none the less, because he considers this as his favorite part of his day. 

A week ago you met with him at the supermarket; the one right down the block, with the automatic sliding doors that had a wonky sensor. A wave instead of a hello, both hands pushing the cart to the cleaning aisle, and some friendly conversation afterwards. 

Sugawara smiles when he remembers what happens afterwards; as he recalls how he went from a hello, to “this detergent is actually better,” then finally, to “do you maybe wanna get some dinner with me?”

[myelocin]

Sun soaked raindrops. Idk, I was just thinking about standing on my back porch and seeing rain falling even when the sun and the sky are still visibly clear.. Every time it happens it freaks me out but its still a beautiful sight.

i love this!!! i might have to actually write a story for this hmm (if i end up dm-ing you pls don’t b surprised KJBDFAJK i just vibe w ur description and the title a whole lot)

Sun soaked raindrops, and the teeny tiny fragments in the inbetween that show how the world looks if it was closed in water. Akaashi Keiji blinks; thinking the sun looks sort of like a memory in the moment. Where the dry patch of grass under the tree was home, and the sun that danced with the raindrops beyond was a boy who smiled like he was the center of existence itself. 

“Hey,” he says, then takes a step and reaches out a hand.

“Hey,” he says again, the telltale signs of laughter bubbling from his throat.

“Hey!” he eventually hears from a far, and when he looks on the other side of the grass-- he sees the sun. And he’s waving once, then twice, before eventually running past the shade, into the rain, and towards him. Golden eyes catching light, raindrops falling down, and Akaashi thinks of the sun soaked raindrops he thinks are so beautiful again.

“Bokuto-san,” he smiles.

((tears i actually wanna write this out i am inlove w how u described the rain fsdjkbsdfjksd im freaking out rn))

[myelocin]

how about 'rotten egg'?

that’s so cute ;w;

Hanamaki Takahiro had never been one to indulge in petty fights, or retort to fighting children for the matter. Truth be told, he was excited for this day. His morning had gone well too; grabbed a cup of coffee plus a scone on the way to work, his hair wasn’t giving him trouble, and the kids at the daycare seemed relatively calm today. 

Then three hours later enters you; smile in place and an aura he just knows will grab the attention of the children. The boy to the left of him, the youngest and arguably the most handful of the bunch, decides to take a seat next to you. That wouldn’t have been a problem, save for the way he stares straight at Takahiro, lollipop in mouth, smirk in place, and an all too familiar glint in his eye.

Takahiro swallows, suddenly remembering the story time from the previous week. If he thought hard enough he could remember that the descriptions regarding the character that his self inserted character fell in love with looked just like you. 

The boy grins, and Takahiro watches with a dry throat as he pulls at the sleeve of your sweater then says, “Takahiro-sensei has a crushhhhhhhhhh on you.”

[myelocin]

I saw the made-up fic title👉🏻👈🏻 what about candle's wick???

bro the vibe i get from this....

Oikawa Tooru loved the flame but didn’t exactly care to understand much about it. For him, a flame meant a drive. A physical reminder that he, who stands on a platform that lives to be consumed, burns and exists for the purpose to conquer. 

A flicker in the howling wind; raging scarlet with sapphire. Oikawa knew that through the fire he would emerge victorious. 

But it’s at the edge of his greatest triumph does he learn the purpose of a candle’s wick: that for it to cradle a flame, it must stand still and let itself be burned in return.

(bro i’m eyeing this rn hsdfjksdhfk) 

[myelocin]

aaa for the made-up fic titles thing: the price of resurrection?

UUUUUUUU this is an interesting one... thinking thoughts ;w;

Kuroo Tetsurou knew that there was a reason why he should have left that book closed. That there was a reason why there were layers of dust on the cover, a lock on the side, and scratches on the leather bound cover that gave him chills before he could even think of touching it. 

But he wanted to see you. He longed to see you dance in the rain and glimmer under the sun like the days of old before the sharp end of the arrow took you in seconds. 

A balance, he thinks. The world thrives on balance. 

So he breathes; steady at first, then a little shaky once he realizes the weight of what he is about to do. A balance, he thinks again. An eye for an eye.

Because if the price of resurrection was his life for yours, he swore that it was worth paying the price. 

[myelocin]

m a flower hoe so lavender lullabies -🌾

Sakusa Kiyoomi, at thirty four never thought he’d adopt a three year old after having a baby of his own six years and some months ago. But he’s here now, hands a little shaky as he grips a cloth and presses it into a shivering boy’s forehead, his eyebrows knitted together as he fights both the ache in his body and the sleep that wants to settle in his system. 

Sakusa sighs, and it’s somewhere between the hours of 12 and 4 where he finally takes a seat on the floor next to the bed whose sheets smell like lavender, while a small hand is on top of his own, little hands grabbing onto his thumbs as Sakusa lulls him to sleep with a familiar lullaby.

[myelocin]

Unfortunate Business - sleepless anon (im not dead!)

AAAAAAAAAAYYYYY how have u been!

Akaashi Keiji should have been used to things by now. Staple some papers here, run some copies there, answer a call and last minute cancel a meeting maybe if he were up to it. But six month into the job that should have been mundane enough to tolerate comes you, Bokuto Koutarou’s cousin who also happened to have a seemingly identical similar character to the firecracker. Long were the days of typing in silence and answering calls with a rehearsed flow in conversation. 

An allergy for pollen, a potted plant by his desk on a Monday morning, a smile from two cubicles over, and a love story waiting to happen. 

Maybe this wouldn’t turn out so bad.