bananasandfruits

What do you even get someone who can afford anything you can buy? You sighed. Seriously, dating someone as rich as Seijuro can be really hard, like, it's always, always hard to get something for him for his birthday. "Ugh, why did you have to be so rich?" you mumbled. You had resorted to handmade presents the past two years, but you wanted something else this year. Racking your brains for whatever might be a good present, you stared off into space. Then an idea struck you... A very shallow and stupid idea. But who cares? YOLO. And besides, Seijuro actually wasn't so hard to please (as opposed to what most people think). He appreciates even

|Akashi Seijuro x Reader| (Kuroko no Basuke) Thud. Ow. You lifted your smarting forehead off of the paper-covered desk, raising a hand to rub it in an attempt to sooth the pain. Fantastic. Now the outside of your head hurt just as much as it didn't on the inside. The endless slew of formulas, symbols, models, and elements spun around in your head, creating a giant bowl of chemistry soup. And you couldn't understand any of it. This isn't good, you moaned in your head. You had a test coming up, and despite your countless hours of cramming and studying, you were no closer to understanding the subject than when you had started. Your grade wa

 //Some random, funny fluff. Gender neutral//     “Hello Satsuki.” Akashi held a luxurious phone to his ear, sitting upright in a black, leather office chair. Even his greetings reeked of dominant authority. “Huh… Oh! It's Sei-chan!” It took a moment to decipher the low, male voice, but it no doubt had the delivery only Akashi could manage. Momoi even wanted to add, ‘I almost thought you were a serial killer,’ but wisely thought better. “What's up?” There was a pause on the other end. “I have a favour. I just finished writing a love letter to (F/N) and I wa–” “

Parties. You never really liked attending them. Well, depending on the type of party, that is. But you resented this type. With an abundance of people, all dressed in the latest fashion, holding champagne flutes or wine glasses, chatting away, classical music flooding your ears (But was background music to those chatting away). Some individuals were dancing with another, swaying to the slow melody of the music. You, being the (son/daughter) of a prominent businessman and businesswoman, was forced to attend. You stood in the shadows, moonlight streaming through the windows as you observed others, watching them either chat, twirl or sip on thei