#risse writes

[tsukkiscookies]

welcome home | s. kiyoomi

500-ish words of a reunion and missed feelings with sakusa kiyoomi.

-

seventeen then, twenty now- three years seems like so little, and so much has changed. 

sakusa wasn’t a man of many words, and he certainly wasn’t a man of many feelings, either. or at least that’s what he thought from the very start. his stature, quiet as ever, always loomed in the shadows of others, as his stone-cold demeanour seemed to intimidate everyone who dared to approach him.

needless to say, he wasn’t a very approachable person outside the court. 

people always wondered why you were always so close to sakusa, and how hasn’t he shooed you out of his life, describing you to be “the flame to his ice” or “the light of his life”. it sounded flattering, but it wasn’t exactly the case either- sure, he didn’t burn the insides of your soul with his judgemental stare, but that didn’t mean that he welcomed you with open arms, either.

frankly, you were tired of it- you always seemed to be the one initiating things and making the first move in the relationship. it didn’t sit right with you, either- you constantly doubted his love for you. could you even call it that? but he wasn’t one to be hostile, either- he always made time out of his busy schedule for you, even if the two of you weren’t doing anything much together. that’s why you couldn’t really complain, either.

as the last snow of winter melted into the first petal of spring, you felt as if a bridge had set itself up between the two of you- it felt different. not exactly in the best way, so to speak- you realised that you couldn’t be as comfortable with him as you used to be. maybe it’s because of all the times he kept silent, or all the times he looked like he cared a lot less. from that point on, the bridge didn’t seem to budge either, and you were convinced that maybe the feelings you had for him weren’t mutual. 

blame it on the fact that the two of you were young, or it was both of your firsts- adding on, he probably didn’t have a clue how relationships were supposed to be like. no one teaches you about these things. sure, he did treat you differently from everyone else, but you couldn’t call it “love”. everyone has different definitions on what love is. 

so here he was, three years later, staring at a screen that emitted a soft white glow. on the very top of his screen was your name, the last message from you being a simple “thank you.” for all the times you spent together, good or bad, and for all the memories. his hand hovered over the “send” button, eyes squinting at the contrastingly bright screen. 

frankly, he didn’t expect your response at all- after all, he was the one who faded away from the relationship. but grudges were never meant to be held, and the same goes for hard feelings- after all, it wasn’t like he did anything in particular that ticked you off. you couldn’t deny the feelings that you still had for him after all this time. 

“welcome back,” was the response he was greeted with, and the three years of silence seemed to have disappeared with the passing leaves- as he embraced you with his arms, it felt as warm as the cups of hot cocoa set on the table, rich and bittersweet, that always came as pleasantly nostalgic.

“i missed you,” he smiled, as you felt his soft breath against your neck. 

- taglist: @yams046 @akaxshii @sugasugawarau @straymackerel || info

tbh it was kinda rushed and my brain can’t register if there’s any plot holes but i’ll come back and edit this when i feel like it >n< it’s been too long since i last posted here but i’m glad that i’m done with my exams for the moment :D

[tsukkiscookies]

clair de lune | tsukishima kei

light of the moon- how bright do you shine for hearts that love?

to him, it wasn’t a question of how, but of why, and when.

the world around him was tainted in blue- the pale blue hospital tiles, the deep shade of blue on the hospital gowns, the boring shade of blue on the blankets. heck, even the sky beyond the small glass window was almost always in shades of blue and gray.

he came here so often that he practically knew the compound inside out, but he wasn’t the one lying on the creaky hospital beds- rather, he was the one always sitting on the side of it, eyes always fixated on whatever was beyond the window.

it was a great distraction from reality, he thought.

the reality where there will be a day when the moon doesn’t glow and when the bed feels a little lighter.

tonight was no different than usual- the clock beside your bed blinked with the time amidst the dark room, tinting his silhouette in flashes of red with his face tilted up to gaze out the window.

“ne, tsukki-kun, why did you choose to stay?”

he blinked, before pausing to think.

“no reason in particular.”

a lie. why would tsukishima kei, out of all people, put himself through this?

“nope, try again. you don’t do anything without reason.”

“i’m scared.”

kei? scared of anything?

“...of what?”

“that there’ll be a day when i wake up to find that you’re not here.”

you looked at him, hair ruffled up from your sleeping position. feeling his weight shift in your bed, you felt his amber eyes locking themselves on your figure.

“as long as you’re here, i’m invincible. i feel like i’m on top of the world, that i can do anything. i’m so lucky to have met you, and in this life, or the next, or the one after next, i’d choose to be with you over and over again- a thousand times over.”

you snickered.

“since when were you a sentimental guy?”

he took your palm in his, tapping it repeatedly with his calloused fingers.

“it’s your fault. you made me like this.”

“oh, come on. don’t be so pessimistic. i hate it when people treat me like i’m dying,” you joked, rolling your eyes at him.

“but you are-“

“you don’t have to rub salt in my wounds, tsukishima-kun.”

he laughed.

“alright, i’m sorry.”

you nodded at him, lifting your fingers up to count them one by one.

“i’ve made so many memories, and i want to relive them and make so much more new ones. people like you- my friends, my family. all of you were there supporting me every step of the way, and i can’t be more grateful.”

he squeezed your palm a little tighter, his hands trembling around yours.

“why? out of all people, it had to be you? that life had to put an uncertain expiration date above your head? i never know anything anymore- it never really dawned on me that-“

“then, we should just cherish every remaining moment together, shall we?”

a single tear fell on the back of your hand.

“here, have this- a little present from me to you.”

gesturing to a thick leather bound book on the table, you gestured for him to open it.

“a planner? why?”

“just read it,” you smiled.

with the flipping of pages being the only sound in the room, he traced his fingers across every labelled date.

january 1- let’s visit the shrine and pray for good luck.

march 23- let’s have a picnic under the cherry blossom trees again.

april 19- let’s go to school at night and play on the piano again. you sound good.

june 27- happy three years, my love.

july 28- let’s watch the fireworks again.

the list went on and on, as his sniffles grew louder with each word he read.

“you’ll be here long enough to stay with me, right?”

“no promises,” you chuckled, “say, why don’t you take me out?”

the gloomy hospital room didn’t seem that lonely anymore- with tears mixed between snippets of laughter, the moon shone on each and every droplet of tears, dimly illuminating the room with a silver light.

“sure,” he said, voice cracking with tears.

-

sorry that i’m not tagging my taglist here- tumblr’s algorithm is kinda screwing my posts up and i wanna see what’s the issue :c

[tsukkiscookies]

love as told in the colours of sunsets | iwaizumi hajime

post-timeskip iwaizumi hajime x reader, 573 words of angst. hints towards intimacy, not explicit but please be warned :D

orange was the first gleam of sunset, like the first shimmer of love- a little more hopeful and a lot more youthful. like the first leaf of autumn, or the first bloom of spring, ever so gentle and curious. in between all your lunches was a post-it note with a cute message, or the ring of the phone at 12:00 sharp. it was a small gesture, but it never failed to brighten up your day, just as it never failed to brighten up his, just as he always praises you for brightening up his life. “it’s young love,” he would say, after being teased by his co-workers in the gym, and you swore you always blushed at the most random of times. perhaps that could be the reason? “when the love’s still young, you should keep it the same later in life,” he would reply.

red was the colour of fiery sunsets and his heated passion. he was never one to show his love through the words that he spoke- he’d hold you as gently as how the blue-ish flames caress the bottom of a boiling pot. passionate, to say the least. short lasting too, sometimes. like how the fire just goes out with the turn of a knob, or how a little blow puts out the flickering fire wobbling on the wick. you’d find yourselves lost in the rom-com playing in the background, your body wrapped around his and his lips on yours. the tv was really good for ambient noise, admittedly, because the only sound in his eardrums were the sounds of you asking for more as he felt his heart beat in sync with yours. 

pink was the afterglow that left you wanting for more- the sunset was beautiful, but it would all be over in the blink of an eye. it’s the subtle yearning; a subtle plea- one more minute, and the outcome would be different. one more hour, one more day. but things never changed; it remained a constant. like how the earth had been orbiting the sun for millions of years, like how the sun rises and sets. the table, too, with it’s half-set demeanor, was a constant. whenever the hum of his car engine was in the vicinity, the food would lay cold on the table, the chairs empty. the clock strikes ten, and the house is all dark except for the street lights that peep in through the door.

purple was the colour of dusk; the last glimmering minutes of the tainted sky. like dreams of love; of hope, they all set into the horizon, leaving nothing but the shell of an empty heart behind. the gym bags sat abandoned in the corridors, with his clothes all over the floor. they say loneliness makes for a dishevelled man, and he thought that that was true. all the little things reminded him of you- from the little polaroids stuck to the fridge or the faint perfume of yours lingering on the snow-white sheets. amidst the darkness, your phone would occasionally light up with the banner of a message- who in their right mind would send a message in the wee hours of the morning?

it wasn’t just a message, but a voice message.

“i know it’s too late, but i’m sorry i took you for granted. i…” a pause,

“think i still love you.”

that’s okay. it didn’t matter at all. you never loved him anyway. 

-

I GOT LOCKED OUT OF TUMBLR I SWEAR THE INTERNET HATES ME RN HAJGHGD anyway i realised i haven’t posted in a whole month? time flies so fast i swear- (also this is not proofread for grammatical errors please forgib me)

taglist: @yams046 @tobios-queen (bolded: could not be tagged) 

[tsukkiscookies]

springtime daisies

お誕生日おめでとうございます, 菅原孝支!

genre: fluff / angst

pairing: sugawara x reader

warning: mentions of blood, but not graphic

word count: 1.1k

a/n: this was written for the cheesy cult’s hanahaki event! go check out all the other amazing works from the other cheesy babies too! <3

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

i. first spring of us

in a corner of the world you shared with him lies a rustic, wooden bench. around it were patches of grass, adorned with dainty little daisies that gleamed with innocence and purity. whenever spring rolled around, their earthy fragrance filled the streets; the scent ever so welcoming- reminiscent of a feeling that is so familiar yet so hard to pinpoint.

a gentle yearning, or a soft plea, perhaps.

just like your feelings for him.

It sparked a little flame in your heart- small enough to put away, but not small enough to be put out, each flickering flame leaving a trail of flower petals in its wake- so gentle yet so sharp, cutting you up on the inside, leaving behind voids of unrequited feelings and paragraphs of unspoken words.

-

you wished that you could spend all your days like this- with him, on this bench, in this pretty weather. the earthy scent of the daisies fills the street as the spring breeze gently caresses each of its delicate petals, swaying them back and forth ever so lightly.

in the corner of your eye you saw him- brows lightly furrowed and tense, yet his brown eyes seemed natural, reflecting the azure skies above; the sun shone gently through the clouds, giving out a soft warmth that felt so natural; so comfortable.

days like this were just like daisies- so simple, so innocent, so pure.

just like him.

the way he stood out in your eyes was special- you were hopelessly in love with all the little things about him. you loved how his brows would scrunch up when someone made a joke; you loved the way his lips pouted when he was jokingly upset; you loved the smile on his face when he gets a compliment. everything about him was so pure, so simple- dreamlike, almost.

too pure for this tainted world.

he’d point out the way the ants crawled up those blades of grass, or the speckled, glistening feathers of the birds that perch on the branches. the way he spots these ordinary things and get so excited over them made you wish that you could see what life is like through those hazel eyes of his.

how do you see me?

his eyes still fixated on the clouds, he opened his mouth to speak.

-

was this a dream?

the words he spoke pacified the roaring seas of your heart.

the flame in your heart flickered violently, but the petals didn’t entail- it felt full and warm. it no longer felt empty; deprived of feelings- for once, the flame flickered on without cutting you up on the inside.

so, he liked me all this while?

you could hear him let out a small sigh of relief when you flashed him a smile.

either way, i hope things would stay this way.

-

he promised that he wouldn’t change.

there are so many pains in this world- you could say that this feeling hurts the worst, yet it’s the hardest to describe.

it seems so insignificant, really. it starts off as a faint pang in your chest, a dull pain- somewhat tolerable yet always there. like a sprained joint, almost. and the longer you hold it in, it cuts you up on the inside- slowly, when you try to brush it off, then all at once, when you finally accept defeat.  

the unrequited feelings nested itself in all the little things- his eyes no longer glisten with the brightness of a starry sky, his hair seemed to have dulled down a little from the light gray it used to be. his smiles seemed forced, actions unwilling- it hurt you in the chest each time, each day.

you missed the little kisses he would plant on your cheek whenever he bade farewell, you missed the feel of his hand in yours. he grew distant, you could say.

you didn’t tell him, of course. because you had to swallow your pride.

“it will be okay right? you two are dating, after all. it’s been two years.”

you wished you could agree.

but the blood-stained petals in your palms suggested otherwise.

the petals were ivory white, but they didn’t come for long. instead, they were replaced by whole flowers, complete with their stems.

they were daisies. the very flower that was symbolic of the start of your relationship; of him. could it be him? it has to be.

do i still love him?

the blood stained petals said it all. white, delicate and fragile, but stained with blood that held so many thoughts and had so many scars.

but does he still love me?

-

he saw the petals you tried so desperately to hide.

you were glad he did, because you didn’t know how to bring this up.

crouched in the corner of the room, you were surrounded by heaps of blood-stained petals.

tears were streaming down your face- from the pain swelling in your lungs, from all the agony of love.

each fallen petal eased your breathing, emptying your lungs, but it left you hollow; deprived. desperation and longing started filling up the empty spaces within you, sowing the seeds for more flowers to grow.

he wasn’t a stranger to this disease, it seems.

you hated that his features shone more beautifully in this light. his eyes were like pools of warm honey, his beauty mark below his left eye complimented his features so well, his hair just seemed so soft and silky.

it only made you want to throw up more flowers.

“who is it?” he pleaded.

picking up a petal, he let out a small yelp.

you figured you forgot to tell you that they cut. a stream of blood trickled down his palm, leaving a shocked expression on his pretty face.

“i still love you.”

silently, he stood in shock- for the lack of a better response, he sheepishly looked away, his gaze avoiding yours.

-

weeks passed, and the flowers told you that he no longer saw you in that way. the scent and the taste of the daisies became all too familiar and horrid, and the petals grew to be sharper, cutting you more deeply each time.

-

i

am

in

pieces.

the flowers never seemed to stop.

can you take it away,

one last time?

-

-

-

i guess not.

-

-

-

ii. spring without you.

he brought you to a bench, the grass around it scattered with dainty little daisies. so little and fragile, so pretty and innocent.

he told you his name, and that this bench was a little corner of the world that belonged to the two of you.

he told you about all the times you got ice cream after school together, all the times you came here to talk your feelings away, all the times you munched on savory pork buns on this very bench.

but you don’t remember any of it.

not anymore.

-

in another life, you remember looking back at the park bench one last time, looking for a gray-haired boy with warm, hazel eyes.

as expected, as always- he wasn’t there.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

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