[ahtsumu]

LOOK WHAT THE WIND BLEW IN. i’m flo to you and bbygirl<3 to miya atsumu. eighteen hundred years old, a freshman in college, and Trying My Best™ ! this blog is 70% writing, 20% dumb stuff, 10% really dumb stuff. i write for both jjk and hq! everything else is below the cut, g. 

current concern: how to say ‘thank you’ a million times over?

BOREAS ☴ important stuff

about ahtsumu: what i’m doin here

hq masterlist: evidence of my doin

jjk masterlist: listen i– i– have you seen gojo???

APELIOTES ☴ greatest hits

how the haikyuu boys fall in love

目送 ; OIKAWA TOORU

CEO!KUROO HEADCANONS

 NOTUS ☴ tags

#flo goes: lil tiny headcanons/drabbles with the boys’ names bolded

#fireside chats with flo: conversations between just you and me and the three people who like those posts (shout out to the homies!)

#odds and ends: usually not hq-related thoughts (yes i can have them)

ZEPHYRUS ☴ latest & ongoing

love persevering ; nanami kento [navigation, ch. 120 spoilers!]

vignettes from a simple and good life ; miya osamu

THAW ; oikawa tooru [navigation, the rest to come!]

[ahtsumu]

howdy! after some reflection, i’ve realized that tumblr isn’t where i want to be as a writer anymore. this isn’t a decision made on the whim – you’ll know it’s been a long time coming if you’ve been with me a while. i appreciate all the love and support you guys have ever given me, but three hiatuses over the past 8 months have shown me that i’m mentally better off of tumblr.

i'm leaving @ahtsumu up as an archive of every drabble, headcanon, and fic i’ve ever written. everything else has already been deleted (all of your sweet asks are safe on a private blog 🥰).

some quick i love you’s to people who made my time here so enjoyable: remy, moosh, ang, adri, lin, chloe, winter, erin, lola, gracie, yue, issy, hayley, sem, cj, faye, jan, and you who’s reading this! i’ll still be around to pester your inboxes and scream in the tags of your works. 👀

it’s been a wild ride! thank you for being part of my lil universe. 💖

love,

flo

[ahtsumu]

only two pictures of sakusa kiyoomi smiling exist on the internet.

the other three hundred live on your phone.

“twenty-five.”

“is one-fourth of a hundred,” he immediately replies, looking up from the video of his last match against the adlers. the slightest smirk on his face challenges you to go on. you play this game every year: he pretends not to know or care that he has a birthday at all, and you have to remind him that despite what the tabloids say, he is, in fact, an aging human (like everyone else).

grinning, you plop down beside him on the sofa and are immediately pulled closer to his side. “it’s your birthday, doofus.”

“really?” sakusa’s brows raise in mock surprise. “i had no idea.”

“shut up,” you laugh, giving him a light shove. naturally, he doesn’t budge – but a short and quiet laugh leaves his lips. “anyway, it’s time to pick your yearly instagram tribute.” the album, appropriately titled “omi :)” opens on your phone, revealing photo after photo of sakusa’s pearly whites (on a hiking trail on mount fuji, in a hotel room in paris, in the kitchen baking brownies…).

he sighs but the skin by his eyes crease ever-so-slightly. “can’t you pick for me?” though he’s never been a fan of having his face shown back to him, sakusa’s gotten used to the fact that you usually get what you want. (and that, maybe, he is kind of good-looking.)

“what if you don’t like that photo?”

“i don’t care.”

you study him skeptically. “i don’t believe you. sakusa kiyoomi? mister ‘can-you-make-that-black-and-white’? mister ‘no-face-pics-on-instagram’? mister –”

he laughs and covers your mouth with his hand. “that’s just my... what’s that word you always use? aesthetic.” the grin on his face doesn’t disappear even when you pry his long fingers off your face.

“i have nothing to say except that you need to choose a picture for your birthday post… or else i’ll have the team decide for you at dinner later.”

it’s not that the rest of the msby black jackals are out to embarrass him every chance they get (though that may be the case for a certain blond setter) – it’s just that they all, with the exception of his captain, have a terrible eye for style. hinata still uses instagram filters, for god’s sake. grimacing, sakusa shifts to let you show him your album.

none of the photos pique his interest – not even the one where he’s two thousand feet above the ground in a hot air balloon (which you were almost certain he’d pick). sure, he looks good enough in most of them, but they’re nothing post-worthy. he’s gotten four tributes with the same kinds of photos from you and he can’t just let you post anything time time around.

noticing the tension on his face, you give your boyfriend a soft nudge. “what’s up?”

“i don’t like any of these,” he admits, running a hand through his curly hair.

“hmm? why? do you not want to post this year?”

“no, of course not,” sakusa interrupts. “i really don’t mind. never did. i’m… thinking.” the living room is silent as he thinks and you watch his expression for any clues to his thoughts. one of sakuksa’s best and worst traits is his poker face and even you still struggle to fully read through it. suddenly, he sits up and unlocks his phone, opening up his camera roll.

and in his ‘favorites’ album, he finds what he’s looking for.

“this one," sakusa says firmly. he looks over at you and chuckles. it’s still a picture of him smiling. it’s not the best quality and he’s certain it’s a screenshot from a video that one of his teammates took months ago, but this one’s special. this photo has you in it. you’re on a yacht in the mediterranean, kissing his unmasked cheek as the sun sets behind you and he’s grinning so widely that he’s almost unrecognizable. god, look what you did to him. he’s a mess – a smiling mess. “post this one.”

there’s no better mess to be.

[ahtsumu]

LOVE PERSEVERING, EP 1. “The Plot Twist”

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader

synopsis: the nanami’s have an evening full of surprises – the most surprising of all, however, is the one that comes without explanation.

tag(s): loose (very loose) wandavision!au, humor, domestic fluff, suggestive content, profanity, can be read as a standalone! ; wc: 2.6k

love persevering m.list

“SORRY I’M LATE.”

Nanami Kento closes the front door behind him and changes out of his oxfords for house slippers. The traffic was crazy, there’d been an accident on the 101, a Maserati collided with a Ferrari and the two drivers were hashing it out in the middle of – no, that’s a horrible story and even worse lie. He doesn’t even drive to work. He takes the Caltrain to his job in San Francisco every morning and takes it home to Sunnyvale every evening.

Shit, Nanami thinks as he tries to hide the evidence of his… offense. Can he cover it up with something? Maybe if he held his briefcase in front of it… No, that’s so obvious. It’s so… red. And big. There’s no way it’d stay concealed.

It’s not that Nanami is in any way dumb or easily frazzled. No, he’s quite intelligent and levelheaded and the fact that he works as an Associate at Goldman Sachs should be proof enough. It’s just that he strongly dislikes the thought of lying to you. Technically, he doesn’t even have to make up a story to explain his tardiness. You probably don’t really care that he’s – Nanami checks his watch while setting his briefcase down – an hour late home. But having a story would quell your suspicions about the true reason he’s late.

See, today his co-worker Archie was talking on and on about how he surprised his wife with a bouquet of fifty roses the other night and, well, Nanami felt inspired. He’s not typically one for large romantic gestures, so he thought that maybe he should step up his game and at least remind you of how much he loves you the one day he’s given a sign to.

“First, you gotta lower her expectations, y’know?” Archie says like he’s giving a pitch. “Make her think the conversation is gonna be far from romantic. Say something totally boring. ‘Hey, honey, I had a great day at work today.’ Somethin’ like that, y’know? Then you just whip it right out. Bam.”

Nanami looks at the pink peonies in his hand with a small smile. Happy marriage, the flower shop attendee had said. Hearing your footsteps leading out from the second-floor bedroom, he quickly places the red bouquet behind the living room sofa before rushing back to his original place by the door. At first sight of your figure descending the stairs, Nanami starts (perhaps too exaggeratedly) loosening his tie.

“Ken.”

Oh. Oh, this doesn’t sound too good. Pausing his movements, Nanami assesses the damage. Your arms are crossed over your chest and your head is slightly cocked to the side, and you’re shooting him an expectant look. To be frank, you look a little pissed. You’re not even smiling. This definitely isn’t too great.

“Honey,” he starts, flashing you a conciliatory smile.

“Did you know that we were supposed to leave for our reservation an hour ago?” you interrupt.

Reservation? It doesn’t ring a bell.

Oh, is that why… fuck.

Taking your husband’s silence as evidence that he’d forgotten, you let out a sigh and walk up to his frozen frame, stopping when you’re right under his nose. “Did you?”

Nanami looks up at the ceiling as he tries to recall anything about reservations, but his mind turns blank. Actually, he thinks as he furrows his brows, he can’t even remember what he did yesterday.

“No,” he admits truthfully, looking into your eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m really sorry but I don’t remember at all. Listen, I –”

And then, you laugh.

“I was just messin’ with you, babe.” Still giggling, you pull him in for a hug. “The reservation’s not today.”

Nanami blinks as his arms wrap around you. There’s no reservation. “You’re ridiculous,” he chuckles. “I genuinely thought that I’d done something wrong.”

“No, definitely not. You’re wonderful.” Lifting your heels off the floor, you capture Nanami’s lips in a short kiss. He eagerly responds, pulling you closer into his firm body. This is, without a doubt, Nanami’s favorite part about coming home. You. Always there, at the end of the day, with your sunny little grin and sweet, adoring eyes. A little piece of paradise.

“You are so much trouble,” he murmurs as you pull apart. You hum at that, unable to disagree.

“We do, however, have a reservation at eight tomorrow.”

He frowns. “I genuinely don’t remember making plans for that, darling, I’m sorry.” Nanami glances down at your face and notices your surprised expression.

“Me neither. I was hoping you’d be able to tell me something about that.”

Well, that’s odd. It’s not often that either of you forgets anything, let alone something as easily remembered as a dinner reservation. It’s utterly peculiar that you would both happen to forget about the same thing. Today’s turning out a lot stranger than he’d ever expected. “How’d you find out?”

You pull your phone out of your back pocket and show him the email confirmation.

Dear Mr and Mrs. Nanami,

Thank you for making a reservation with us at Gary Danko. As a reminder, your reservation is for two people at 8:00 PM this Friday.

If you have any questions concerning your reservation, please feel free to contact us. We look forward to serving you!

Thank you,

The Gary Danko Team

“This is… strange,” Nanami notes, studying the little screen.

“Very,” you agree.

“Should we cancel?”

“Should we?”

“I –”  Nanami’s stomach grumbles, putting a pause on your conversation.

With a chuckle, you slide your phone back into your pocket. “Never mind. We can talk about it during dinner,” you say, helping your husband out of his suit jacket. As the blazer comes off, you affectionately rub a few circles on his back, feeling his posture relax under your touch. Honestly, he works too hard. You always tell him this but he really should take a few days off and drive down to the beach – maybe with you, if he’d like – and forget about the world for a while. God knows he could use the rest.

Nanami hums in approval. “You go on first.” He kisses your forehead before gesturing at the briefcase on the floor. “I should put this away.”

The moment you disappear into the dining room, Nanami moves his briefcase onto the coffee table and brings the bouquet of pink peonies out from their place behind the sofa, this time holding them behind his back. A reservation neither of us remembers, he suddenly thinks as he strolls quietly towards the dining room. Truly odd. Tucking the thought away in his mind (there’s always time to figure out mysteries like these), Nanami calls out, “Actually, honey, there’s a reason why I came home late today.”

“I was just about to ask. What was it?” You’re almost done setting the table when Nanami walks through the archway with a bouquet of flowers almost as broad as his shoulders.

“Holy shit.”

He laughs, filling the room with its bell-like sound. “For the lady.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you walk over and take the bouquet from his arms, cradling it like a baby. Each petal is fresh and alive and so vibrantly pink. It’s obvious that a lot of care went into this bouquet, and it only touches you further that your husband went to such lengths to guarantee you’d only get the best flowers possible. “Thank you, darling. What’s the special occasion?”

“No occasion,” Nanami says, shrugging. “Just that I love you. And I wanted to remind you that, even on days where nothing happens and it feels like we’re just going through the motions –” he takes your free hand and hunches over to kiss the ring on your fourth finger “– knowing I get to share every day with you gives me joy to look forward to.”

Happy marriage. It’s true and that’s all there is to say about it.

You’re unable to form words. Nanami Kento, the subtle, quiet lover, being loud with affection for once. An indescribable warmth spreads all throughout your body. “Ken…” Tears prick at your eyes as you set the bouquet down on the table and rush into his arms, peppering his face with kisses. “I love you,” you murmur in his ear. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you. Thank you.”

Nanami grins, cradling your face in his large palms. “I should do this more often,” he says, letting out a breathy chuckle when you nod instantly. “I’m sorry. I’ll work on – ” You cut him off with a slow but eager kiss, snaking your arms around his neck and tugging him closer to deepen it. If Nanami had been surprised by your interruption he doesn’t show it – his lips, soft and plump, move in complete synchronization with yours. He tastes like tea and honey and he smells like he always does, of wood and spice and the beach. It’s intoxicating and completely dangerous how irresistible he is and you can’t get enough of him.

The truth is, every real kiss with Nanami feels like the first. And you can never get enough. But you are running out of air, so you break the kiss first and rest your forehead against his, feeling his hot breath fan across your cheeks.

“You’re perfect,” you whisper, stroking his cheek with the pad of your thumb. “I wouldn’t want anyone else as my husband.”

Nanami quirks one corner of his mouth up and covers your hand with his, turning his head to kiss its palm. “If I had another life to live after this one, I’d marry you in that one, too.”

A prolonged growl from Nanami’s stomach interrupts your sweet moment.

“I think your stomach objects.”

“Maybe we should shove something down it, like dinner.”

Grinning, you slip out of your husband’s reach and beckon him to follow you into the kitchen.

“This salmon is delicious,” Nanami remarks, taking another bite off his fork.

“Thank you,” you beam. “I found a recipe while I was at work today and thought I’d try it out. Honey garlic salmon. My life is forever changed and so is yours, by extension. You’re welcome.”

Nanami chuckles, ready to respond with a dry comment about ‘having no choice,’ but then that odd email you’d shown him earlier resurfaces in his mind. “Speaking of changes. Should we cancel that Gary Danko reservation?”

You hum, thinking back to the letter as you chew. It seems like the most logical thing to do. After all, neither of you remembers making the reservation. The ambiguity surrounding its existence is unsettling enough to warrant cancellation, but something in you just wants to see what might happen. Swallowing your food, you say, “Don’t you think it’s strange that it has our names on it? I think we should consider going.”

“What if it’s a scam?”

“Then we go home, order Indian takeout, and watch a war documentary until we both fall asleep.”

Unconvinced, Nanami sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, the navy fabric of his button-up tightening around his muscles. “We should call them first, figure out if they know anything.”

“You’re right,” you say, and then you pause before adding, “And if they don’t?”

You’re done speaking but Nanami knows that sentence isn’t finished, and that the other unspoken half is: can we still go? The truth is – and he’s told you many times – that your unpredictability is the most predictable thing about you. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, eyes darting across your face as he contemplates his answer.

It’s not that Nanami is an overprotective husband or needlessly suspicious of every odd thing in life. It’s that he somehow cannot remember a single second of his life before today, the same day this email arrived. To be more accurate, he feels like he has those memories inside him. Somewhere, deep in his brain, he vaguely remembers what things like a “fifth birthday” or “first wedding anniversary” look like. They just feel out-of-reach. Regardless, he’s absolutely certain that things aren’t exactly right. But you look so excited and utterly unaware of his predicament, so it must be something only he’s experiencing and he doesn’t want to burden you with this problem.

“If you really want to go, then we’ll go,” Nanami concludes, taking a sip of his wine. “After all, the wife…”

“… is always right,” you finish for him. “Well, sometimes the husband is, too, but in this specific context, for unspecified reasons, the wife is most definitely correct.” The grin on your face almost puts his worries to rest.

(Almost.)

You call Gary Danko after dinner and they confirm your reservation.

“Sorry if this sounds, um, weird, but would you mind reminding me when we made this reservation?” you ask, walking in circles around the kitchen.

“Not at all!” Some typing noises travel through the receiver before the man you were talking to says, “Actually, you didn’t make the reservation.”

You make eye contact with Nanami who’s lightly rinsing the plates from dinner. “Pardon?”

“No, it was a Miss Amanda Priestly who called us and reserved the table for you two days ago on October 31st. Does that name sound familiar?”

Nanami raises his brows. That’s your boss.

“Um, yeah. I know her, thank you,” you say, frowning. What on earth is your boss doing reserving tables at Michelin-rated restaurants for you and your husband?

“She left a message, too, in case you were, quote, ‘confused,’ unquote. She says, ‘Mimsy, thank you for your help on the Modish Winter look book. Dinner is on me. Kisses, AP.’”

And suddenly, everything falls into place. All those late nights you spent analyzing old trends and predicting the next season’s rush into your memory. For a month, you pretty much lived in your office down the hall from your editor-in-chief. You barely even had time to sleep. It makes sense that Amanda would show her thanks for the effort you put into the project, but you hadn’t expected her to. After all, she’s Amanda Priestly. She still calls you Mimsy instead of your real name.

“Oh, of course!” you laugh, looking over at Nanami. He sends you a curious look before putting the rinsed plates into the dishwasher. “Thank you for your help.”

“My pleasure.”

The call ends and you tuck your phone in your pocket as you say, “Mystery solved.”

“Hmm,” Nanami says, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. “The Modish Winter Look Book. For some reason, I don’t remember you working on that.” In fact, he doesn’t remember you working at a magazine company at all, although he can’t put his finger on what job he used to think you had. What is going on?

“Really?” you ask, reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers together. “You don’t remember that time I ran into our office with four different tweed blazers and asked which one looked the most wintery?”

Nanami furrows his brows as a memory comes back to him. It was a sunny morning in early November when you ran into the home office with two blazers draped over each arm and forced him to rank them based on how well they exuded “winter energy.” Truthfully, he had no idea what he was doing, just that the one with more blue seemed most appropriate for wintertime.

“I just remembered,” he says, a look of amused confusion coming over his features. Today has been so strange. “Did the blue blazer make it to the final look?”

“One moment,” you say, disappearing into the living room and returning with an advanced, rough copy of Modish’s Winter Fashion Edition. “It’s not out yet, but…” you trail off as you flip through the pages, pointing when you get to the one you were looking for “… here’s your contribution to the magazine.”

The blue blazer, in all its glory, smack dab in the middle of the section that says “TRENDS TO SAY GOODBYE TO.”

“Ouch.”

“Well, you predicted something,” you giggle, placing a hand on his chest. “Fashion might be your calling, Ken.”

He smiles wryly. “I’m hanging up.”

[ahtsumu]

the entirety of seijoh are “choose your asian” boys and they’re all from the bay area idc idc

Oikawa definitely started it. It’s either him or Hanamaki. One of those two saw a TikTok on their FYP and the rest was history. 5M views. All the comments are like “she want the whole team shawty brave” and “I just saw 11 pretty best friends.”

But omg can you imagine them doing the “choose your Asian” challenge in 2019 with the Lil Tecca song??

Oikawa

volleyball team captain

chick magnet 🥵

smartie

Iwaizumi

ARMS

protective bf 😩

STEM king

Hanamaki

will always get you to laugh

soft boy

can COOK 🤩

Matsukawa

6′2″

corpse husband voice

big hands big feet 👀

Yahaba

gym shark

goofy

hopeless romantic

Watari

short king

total sweetheart

never gonna give you up 🙌

Kindaichi

number one nice guy

looks like a bad boy but is actually a soft boy <3

will drive you around

Kunimi

1570 sat score

6′0″!

tsundere

Kyotani

bad boy

will fight for you

hella strong

[ahtsumu]

[4:44 PM] the thing about you and him is that you’re two fortresses waiting for the other to crumble first.

after being closed in the sun, your eyes take a while to adjust to being open.

“tooru, what’re we doing?”

the brunet laying beside you turns his head and grins. instinctively, your brows quirk.

“what d’you think?”

you open your mouth, ready to reply with something witty. you don’t have anything particular in mind, but you know you want it to be witty.

“no, wait,” oikawa tooru says, moving so that he’s now facing you entirely, resting on his side with his head propped on his hand. “really think about it.”

heat spreads over your cheeks as you take in his new position, how he’s just slightly hovering over your lying figure now, his chestnut eyes fixed steadily on yours. his shadow overlaps yours by the thinnest sliver and that has to mean something, right? the air between your bodies grows scarce and your chest tightens ever-so-slightly in response.

this is vulnerability.

more questions spring to mind – what happens next? where are we going with this? are your pupils dilating or is that pseudoscience? can he even see them?

you turn your gaze away and look up, sinking into the blue sky like an anchor. knowing that oikawa still has his eyes on your face, you slide an easy smile over your lips. “i think we’re lying in a grassy meadow in the middle of nowhere–”

oikawa flicks your forehead. “no, you idiot.” he falls flat back on the grass again, folding his arms behind his head. the tension in your chest subsides. “that’s not what i meant.”

“what’d you mean, then?” you wait for him to answer as you run your palms over the soft grass, feeling each blade tickle and poke your flesh as if to say hello. cicadas in the distant oak trees fill in oikawa’s silence with their little songs about summer. the out-of-view gurgling stream, which you had tuned out earlier, lets out a small splash. “hey, did’ya hear th–”

“shhhh.” oikawa laughs and it’s light and boyish as always, except it feels far away, like the rest of him isn’t here in the meadow. something’s changed and you can’t put your finger on it. so you get up and sit with your legs crossed beneath you, determined to get some answers.

“say, you’ve been acting pretty weird today, tooru. everything okay?” under your eyes, the brunet furrows his brows, crinkling his pretty features with amused confusion. still, he says nothing, only continues to hold your gaze. you can’t tell if he’s thinking or waiting. 

waiting for what?

“define ‘weird,’” he finally says, sitting up and breaking the trance he’d put over the two of you. he mirrors you and crosses his legs, positioning them so that his knees rest against yours.

“well, you asked if i wanted to hang out and, when i said yes, you drove us to this meadow.”

“i did.”

“and then you lied down on the grass and told me to do the same.”

“yep.”

“and we just laid in silence for, like, ten minutes.”

oikawa chuckles. “that is pretty weird.” and then, he lies back down on the grass and closes his eyes. “but you said you were stressed earlier this morning. isn’t this relaxing?”

things fall into place. suddenly, you feel warm all over. “in a way, i guess.” without waiting for him to pat the grass beside him, you, too, lay back down. “is that what we’re doing? relaxing?”

the brunet turns his head and grins.

“you’re relaxing. i’m just waiting.”

[ahtsumu]

you have a crush on business major!kuroo tetsurou... and he’s catching on because of your linkedin incompetence

moosh (@mooshys) i’ve been thinking about your post 24/7 since i saw it LMAO i felt inspired, compelled, unfathomably motivated to make this

[ahtsumu]

canon things about nanami kento:

he’s responsible 😭

cares about everyone and i mean everyone

6′0″

would make a great father 🤰

quick-thinker 🧠

WEARS SUITS EVERY DAY HELLO

his tag heuer carrera watch cost $4,150...

💴 financial stability 💴

B U I L T

big ❗️ bread ❗️ fan ❗️

does that hot thing where he loosens his tie 🥵

part-danish 👀 okay mr. worldwide !!!

[ahtsumu]

gladiator!miya atsumu. the prince of a faraway land, the defender of his people, captured during battle and forced to fight in the games. he falls in love from the floor of the arena with you, the princess who dreams of adventure instead of power. he offers you a deal you can’t refuse: help him buy his freedom and he’ll take you with him, wherever he goes. 

[ahtsumu]

you vs. the guy she told you not to worry about

[ahtsumu]

LOVE PERSEVERING ; nanami kento

spoilers for ch. 120 ahead!

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader

synopsis: reports of nanami kento’s death have been greatly exaggerated. well, not exactly. they’re true – he did die. you saw him disintegrate into ashes with your own eyes. but now he’s alive... and kicking it in the suburbs of sunnyvale, california. with neither of you able to recall the events leading up to this bizarre scenario, you’ll have to navigate through suburbia, the ups and downs of married life, and even more surprises in total darkness. 

or will you?

tag(s): loose wandavision!au, married life aww, domestic bliss, humor, angst, fluff, chicken soup for the soul, i’m sure i’ll think of more later, possible multi-chap

warning(s): suggestive themes, profanity

table of contents

EPISODE 1. “The Plot Twist”

[ahtsumu]

i wonder if i can stump u..what do you think is Daishou’s type?

daishou suguru’s type:

sweet, kind. i can definitely see daishou’s attraction to nice people, especially since he’s... not really that way on the court. he likes pushing people’s buttons. tbh i think he acts this way because he struggles with internal turmoil over his self-concept LOL hence why he’d fall for someone who treats him with kindness. he probably doesn’t get shown kindness frequently either because of how he acts.

honestly i hc that daishou is really insecure or has a lil bit of an inferiority complex (which he compensates for with a superiority complex LOL)

assertive (but not in an in-your-face way). based on his current girlfriend mika, i think daishou’s drawn to people who can stand their own ground. like, just have a backbone. he’d probably find an s/o who’s typically reserved extremely attractive if they suddenly challenge him or another person. someone who doesn’t let daishou walk all over them would make him see them as equals.

to be fair, i think someone sweet or naturally gentle automatically makes daishou think they’re above him. 

honest (not blunt!)/good communicator. this goes with being assertive. daishou would probably like an s/o who tells him things as they are, but not in a way that’s hurtful. if they caught him being snarky to someone else, a “hey, that was mean” would do.

understanding. please omg did y’all see the way his face lit up when mika was finally like “i get why you love volleyball so much”???? daishou just wants someone who gets him and his passions.

playful. daishou’s a fun-loving guy, and an s/o who can make him laugh is ideal! i don’t think he’d like an s/o who has a really dark sense of humor – he probably likes cute or clean humor on an s/o. BUT, i can see him liking someone who can banter and be witty with him.

okay all this being said, i see him falling for the above type of person in a non-e2l setting. i think the sweet type does well in a f2l or love at first sight context, but daishou is also a top contender for e2l romances. someone who intrigues him, whether it’s by their looks or ability to match him in wit, can easily catch his eye. how their romance develops will be a lot different, though.

daishou would make such a good boyfriend though ugh once he falls in love he falls HARD !!

[ahtsumu]

BOKUTO KOUTAROU & KUROO TETSUROU

[ahtsumu]

alternatively, NISHINOYA YUU & TANAKA RYUUNOSUKE

[ahtsumu]

alternatively, HINATA SHOUYO & MIYA ATSUMU

[ahtsumu]

demon!miya osamu making you breakfast while humming along to a tune he’d heard on the radio the other day.

[ahtsumu]

in this house we believe ushijima wakatoshi uses contractions when speaking

[ahtsumu]

how to really hurt miya atsumu’s feelings

[ahtsumu]

head empty no thoughts just meian shugo (29) msby team captain