SakuAtsu raising their adopted twins, an (Forever?) ongoing thread:
Atsumu’s torso is broad enough to hold both babies against his chest.

“That might be bad for your back.” Kiyoomi warns. He prefers to alternate the one in front.

Atsumu does it anyway. He always wants to see both his kids staring up at him at once.
Tw: food

Kiyoomi measures out formula and pasty vegetables carefully before each meal.

“That seems way too precise.” Atsumu teases. He prefers to play with their - and his - food.

Kiyoomi does it anyway. He never wants to see both his kids end up with Atsumu’s mess of a diet.
When the twins fight over possessions, Kiyoomi scolds them gently. “Sharing is caring.”

“Just let them battle it out.” Atsumu calls from the next room. “I turned out alright.”

Kiyoomi makes sure that they share.
Their daughter leans booksmart, while their son leans streetsmart.

Kiyoomi stays up late to make sure he helps with every question about homework.

Atsumu gets up early to answer all the random curiosities, even if he has to embellish sometimes. Most of the time. All the time.
Atsumu cries, a lot. Every birthday, every first day of school, every graduation.

Kiyoomi runs out of clean handkerchiefs each time, but he always keeps one handy to dab at his own teary eyes.
“20 seconds. Every time.” Kiyoomi teaches as he rubs soap in little hands.

“How long is that, papa?”

It’s one of the only times Atsumu hears Kiyoomi sing. He hums along from the kitchen.
Their daughter develops a crush first.

“Who is this???” Atsumu stares at the giant poster on her wall, its bottom border graced by a K-pop band member’s name.

“Mm. The language barrier might be a problem.” Kiyoomi mulls.
“Which one of you is me?” Osamu asks every visit.

“Me me me me me!” The twins argue over their claim.

“Which one of you is me?” Atsumu follows, smile wide.

“Daddy talks a little different.”

“Daddy’s from western Japan. He has what’s called an ‘accent.’”

“I hear it from you sometimes, too, papa. Just sometimes.”

“What are you doing, Atsumu…?”

Before their crawling infants rests a row of different balls, representing every sport there is.

“Just tryin’ to see how much we might hafta influence them.”

Both twins shift towards the basketball.

- Spring Cleaning -

“Daddy, were you a K-pop trainee??”


His daughter raises a dusty photo album, opened to records from the high school era.

“There is no other explanation for this hair.”
“Papa, is there a single off-the-court picture of you back then without a mask on?”

Kiyoomi takes the album from his son’s hands.

“There you go.” He flips to the last page, and points to a kiss shared on the Olympic podium.
“Wow, papa you jumped like you were flying!”

“How did you get the ball to do that? No one could get it!”

“Hey hey, what about me? I sent the ball to papa!”

“Oh, that was you, dad?”

“You made the ball high? I guess??”

(A/N: setter rights tbh)
The kids beg for a pet. Kiyoomi brings them to a shelter.

“Are ya sure, Omi?” Atsumu asks over the phone, ready to receive photos for his part of the family vote. “Some will shed a lot.”

“It’s fine. I already ordered another vacuum.” (1/2)
Kiyoomi watches the twins browse their way through dozens of little furry creatures, and waits for the ones that make excited eyes light up even brighter.

They come home with a cat AND a puppy. (2/2)
tw: vomit

They each cradle one infant, marveling at the serene faces in slumber.

But a gurgle sounds, and Atsumu looks up, terrified.

“Omi, lemme getcha a towel.”

“’s ok.” Kiyoomi doesn’t even grimace at fluids coating his shirt. “Let me put him back to sleep first.”
Not a moment, but consider:

Dadtsumu and Papakusa
“Da-da.” Atsumu enunciates carefully at two amused, chubby faces. “I’m your da-da. Can you say it?”

One of the tiny jaws moves up and down, imitating the motion with serious effort.

“Yes, that’s it...DA-DA…” (1/2)
“!” That barely-legible first spoken word soon dissolves into a fit of baby giggles.

“Ok. It’s fine. It’s fine. I’m not jealous…” Atsumu’s face twists into faux sadness. “Can...can I be ‘papa’ instead, Omi?”

“No.” (2/2)
“Ok. Repeat after papa. Lint rol-ler.”

“Lin-ta rol-la.”

“Fea-ther dus-ter.”

“Fea-tha dus-ta.”





“Omi.” Atsumu leans against the doorframe, arms folded and expression incredulous. “They’re two-years-old...”

“Daddy? We were watching your old videos again and…”

“Why did papa always have that grumpy look on his face whenever he enters the stadium?”

“Oh, papa didn’t like holding hands with people back then. And we had to do that with the kids next to us.” (1/2)
“But he always holds both our hands whenever we go to the park!”

“The whole way there...and back!”

Atsumu feels a rush of fondness. “Yah, he holds mine, too.” (2/2)

Motoya brings the worst toys.

“What. The. Hell. Are. Those.” Kiyoomi scowls.

“They’re called Furbies. Aren’t they cute?”

Atsumu is on the floor, staring at bobbing heads and wiggling ears with the same fascination as the twins.

“Ooo look kids! They talk to each other!!”

Bedtime seldom starts with tuck-ins, but with Kiyoomi finding three snoozing figures on the couch; two six-year-olds sprawled over a mattress-like torso.

He gently carries the smaller bodies to rightful places of slumber, & nestles himself into the couch's warmth instead.

“I want to dye my hair.”

They direct attention towards their teenage son.

“That’s mah boy!” Atsumu flashes a thumbs up.

“Color?” Kiyoomi squints.

“I’m debating between dad’s high school yellow--”

“Absolutely not.”

“--or Shouyo-san’s orange.”



“Um. You two have a hashtag?”

Atsumu nearly chokes on his dinner. He hasn’t thought about this in years, but there it is again, staring back at him from their daughter’s phone screen.

“We have at least ten.” Kiyoomi states flatly between bites. “Don’t look through them.”

“Are we REALLY twins, papa? We don’t look alike at all…”

“Yah, we’re so DIFFERENT!”

“Twins being different is a good thing.” Kiyoomi pets the crown of two little, worried heads. “That’s why I married dad, and not your uncle.”

Kiyoomi gives calligraphy lessons on Sunday afternoons.

Atsumu watches sometimes, and feels bursts of pride when the twins’ kanji strokes slowly begin to look better than his.

He has only ever mastered one character - 臣 - with his brush, and that’s perfectly enough.

“Did...did ya see what our daughter posted…”

“The picture of us two at the festival? Yah, it’s nice.”

“But did ya see the caption…the last line...”

Kiyoomi grabs Atsumu’s phone.

“Dad + papa + fireworks! 🥰
#SakuAtsu #佐久侑 #侑サク #사쿠아츠 #ซาคุอัตสึ #โอมิอัต

On some mornings, they each braid one side of their daughter’s hair to save time. Atsumu always follows a YouTube tutorial on his phone the whole time, but his final result is still quite messy compared to the other half - an immaculate finish from top to bottom.

“How are ya so good at this, Omi?” He gawks at the perfect overlaps, each one tempting him to unravel and redo his subpar work.

“I used to play with my older sister’s hair...she always kept it very long.”


A tally is scribbled on the whiteboard attached to their fridge.

“Papa Laughs Earned | September

Daddy: 正正正正
Kids: 正正正正正正正正”

Kiyoomi doesn’t laugh often, but each one is cherished and documented month-to-month. Winner gets ice cream.

Two pairs of Olympic medals are on proud display in their living room - one set Tokyo bronze, the other Paris silver.

Atsumu and Kiyoomi’s two gold medals, however, never sit still.

“Daddy, papa seems to like the cat better.”

“Yah, he even lets it sleep on his lap! But he doesn’t let the puppy come close…”

“Dun worry, the puppy just feels VERY annoying to papa at first.” Atsumu winks. “But one day, he’ll realize that he actually loves it the most."

“Papa, the cat doesn’t seem to like daddy.”

“It hisses and runs away from him whenever he tries to pet it! I hope daddy isn’t sad...”

“Don't worry.” Kiyoomi assures. “It’ll take some time for the cat to understand dad’s love. Once it does, you’ll have to pry them apart.”

“You and papa were on a lot of magazine covers together, daddy.”

“Yah! We were both pretty popular back in the day.”

“‘Most Annoying Player of Your Year? Sakusa Kiyoomi: Miya Atsumu’ weren’t very popular with papa, though.”

(Inspired by:)

“Ok, ok, you guys ready to show 'em??” Bokuto gently pushes the twins in front of him.

“Show us...what?” Kiyoomi mumbles, somewhat fearful.

“Show us!” Atsumu nods profusely.

“Hey.” “Hey!” “HEY!” The trio performs their rehearsed greeting seamlessly, each taking one part.

Their favorite family outing is the aquarium, where the amount of questions always rival the amount of colorful creatures gracing their sights.

“Look, papa! We see you!” Today, excited fingers point through glass.

“Hm? My reflection?” Kiyoomi questions curiously.

“No! That really prickly thing in the corner! Daddy said---”

Atsumu releases a nervous but loud chuckle, attempting to camouflage the rest of the words.


Foxes and weasels continue to be members of their household.

They show up as prints on the child-sized facemasks the twins wear; as plushes, big and small, sprinkled all over couches, beds, and the laundry hamper.

Atsumu has no idea how Kiyoomi finds so much weasel merch.

During the school year, they get up together. Kiyoomi’s work hours start earlier, but Atsumu joins him anyway in the kitchen. They chop, fry, bake, boil - for breakfast, and also the kids’ lunch boxes.

(Kiyoomi’s the better cook, but Atsumu knows all the cute arrangements)

“Bye, daddy.”

“We love you.”

“Love ya, too.” Atsumu grins & glances up. “And papa?”

“He said ‘we.’ That includes me.” Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, but still leans down to kiss him.

Laughing, Atsumu loops facemasks around the twins’ heads before sending them off for the day.

“Wow daddy, you have so many postcards.”

“Yah! Most are from Nishinoya-san, But we have lots from Brazil, Italy, Poland, Russia…”

“From everyone who went overseas to play, right? But you never did?”

“No.” Atsumu smiles fondly. “Japan had everything I loved the most.”

“Papa. You never went to other countries to play, either?”

“Mm...I didn’t feel comfortable leaving Japan back then.” Kiyoomi admits. “Better now, though.”

“So you got offers?”

“Yes, even for both daddy and me together. But he always let me decide where ‘home’ would be.”

X heyheyHEY

locations pls



Twinning 1

Twinning 2

hmm daddy sus

What?? I reported it?!

Vote dad, kids

Twinning 2

Twinning 1
Yah can’t trust daddy

- Daddy was not the Impostor -

"Omi...OMI! HELP!"


"I...I unswaddled them but I turned around 'n they rolled all over 'n now I can't tell who's who 'n I remember mom sayin' how she always mixed up 'Samu 'n me 'n what if I was supposed to have normal hair 'n--"

"Atsumu. Look under the diapers."

Their TV screen glows with scenes of a well-lit game, the genetically-blessed players upon it jumping, blocking, passing with utmost precision.

“Both of us wanna try out for the school team this year!”

The ball is orange, & the net - nets, rather - does not run across the width of the court, but Atsumu and Kiyoomi still flash thumbs up in sincere support.

After all, the kids had already made their choice at the tender age of 10 months.


His classmate always notices.

“Your dad do your hair today? It’s so fluffy.”


“Oh, your papa did it today, right?” The squint analyzes neatly styled waves.

“Why doesn’t yours ever change, Kageyama?”

“Doubt my parents know how. They’ve both had the same hair for years.”

“Daddy, is it your birthday?”

“Hm? Nope. It’s October 5th and today’s July 4th. Why?”

“Our teacher said that today is Uncle Sam’s birthday, so we thought it was yours too...”

“Just twist your lip to the side, and downward a little, like this…”

In the mirror, the twins imitate Kiyoomi’s expression perfectly.

“What are all of ya doin’?” Atsumu appears behind them. “It’s bedtime, y'know.”

The children turn around, unleashing their new secret weapon.

“Ahhhhh okay. OKAY! You can stay up ten more minutes.”

Kiyoomi smirks in victory. “And THAT, kids, is how you get dad to do anything you want.”


"Papa, how did daddy propose?"

"Yah! Did he get on his knees in front of the whole Olympics crowd or something?? Sounds like something he would do!"

Kiyoomi snorts, adding one more tally to the twins' laugh count for the month.

"I was the one who did that, actually."

"Daddy? Papa proposed to YOU??"

"Is there proof?"

"Yah...lots'o videos from back then. You can find 'em online if ya wanna, but yer uncle took better quality ones."

"We thought for sure you did it..."

"I was gonna! Papa just beat me to it by a few hours. I let him win!!"

"Uncle Samu! Show us papa and daddy's proposal!"

"Ya've never seen it? Here, in my favorites folder."

It's 6 min. & 51 sec. of Kiyoomi on one knee, crowd hollers in dozens of languages, & red uniforms lifting two giants into the air.

Atsumu sobs for about 90% of the clip.

"Awww--ow, ow--awww sho cute---owow."

"Atsumu, WHAT is happening?" Gently rocking their son to sleep in his arms, Kiyoomi watches with concern as their crawling daughter gobbles up his husband's face on the floor.

"I read--owww--that they do this--when they are teething!"

"Hey hun, what's wrong?"

"We...we b..broke up..." Their daughter stammers between sobs.

They instantly seat themselves at either side, four arms creating a protective web around quivering shoulders.

"It's gonna be a'right...cry as much as ya want...let it all out!"

"Does it...always hurt like this?"

"It might, but take it from us - one day you'll look back at all this with a smile."

"Take it from you?"

"Yah, papa and I weren't each other's first loves! Or even second..."

"Did...did you guys ever cry?" The sniffles begin to fade.

Atsumu exchanges a meaningful look with Kiyoomi above their daughter's head.

"Mmhmm! But not 'nemore!!"

"But Daddy, you still cry a lot..."

Kiyoomi smooths out her stray hairs. "Don't worry. Those are dad's happy cries."

(3/3; Idea from @gracieK11_22!)
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