Solivagant

"I'll stop loving you when the sea stops receding back and forth,"

[vvnothinspcial]

"first impressions are everything right?"

✚ ͝ །　　 ◟　　shiro , 6TEEN , 09

　𓏫˚｡　　།　　𓏴　　she　╱　her !?

　. .　　⤷　random hiatus ?!

　̥̈◟ ͜　　 𓎟𝄄𓎟 　interaction rules !?

ᛪ ͜ 　　ʾʾ　　𓏵　　masterlist ( wip )

| ͜͝ ̫ 𓐆　　┈֯　　multi-fandom 　　▬̸⃨▬̸⃨

"but goodbyes tend to linger longer?"

crds of banners and dividers to original owners + pinterest, I do not claim.

[vvnothinspcial]

What app do u use for ur messages?

hi!! I use Memi message cause personally I find that easier to work with but you can also use ifake I think? Hope that helps !

[vvnothinspcial]

TEXT WITH BOYFRIEND?! OHYUL

notes: this is a work of fiction, ofc none of it is real and merely for content. this is also my first time doing a smau. I hope it's accurate but if it's not pls be mindful with the criticism. along with this, I'm currently working on request! but as stated in interaction rules, I tend to go on random hiatus, my exams are also coming soon so I'll be inactive. rn I'm currently on a holiday so expect rlly late updates. But I also have other ideas to work on one day. thanks for reading. Also...I'm pretty sure we can tell who my bias in lngshot is..

this was a very lazy post while I'm working on a req...

[miisodiary]

‧₊˚⋅𓐐misos Lngshot recs 𓎩‧₊˚

⤷ “6th member reader ˎˊ˗.

Everywhere expect with your members @eu4mi

Pack it up @skullzshooter

⤷ “OHYUL ˎˊ˗.

OFF THE RECORD @tokryuu

"I'M STILL ROCKING YOUR HOODIE" @vvnothingspecialvv

feeding you @noivee

one hour wait @lngshotty

⤷ “RYUL ˎˊ˗.

Blind leading the blind @mytwinsung

BIG FAN @zombilit

HOT GIRL SUMMER SHIT @eu4mi

Gonna Be A Problem @inisfreegreentea

MY BOYFRIEND THINKS HES SPIDERMAN @yuesning

⤷ “WOOJIN ˎˊ˗.

Don’t tempt me @rinawxrld

I'm not Cool Anymore @inisfreegreentea

You already do @emmzywemmzy

Whipped @emmzywemmzy

⤷ “LOUIS ˎˊ˗.

ʙᴇsᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ @imhaechanshoe

CUPID'S CHOKEHOLD ! @bunnykao

denial’s a river in egypt @meeoowchi

Paper Rings and Promises @unogellii

[vvnothinspcial]

Edited reblog: I just realized today...i think you tagged the wrong account huhuh T T but I still managed to find this! I appreciate you putting this in your recommendations especially since that was my first post after a long while. Thank youu 🥹❤️‍🩹

[vvnothinspcial]

"I'M STILL ROCKING YOUR HOODIE"

↬featuring: ex!? (implied?) kwon ohyul x fem reader (implied)

⋮ sypnopsis

when two ex lovers reunite years later, they then reconnect over memories, their old feelings, and admist all this, a familiar hoodie that never truly left them.

warnings: english isnt my first language, inconsistent writing cause i switch between laptop and my phone, maybe there's repetition?

content: long one shot, imagine, angst (slightly soft ig?), also fluff...? kinda slow burn, comfort, open ended one shot. reader (you) are implied to be an idol however there's no specific company or group mentioned. inspired by the song "hoodie" by hey violet (if u were a gacha kid, I think you'd know) mostly written from ohyul's pov...sorry

notes: I'm begging I need req, I wanna start writing more, this is my first post for LNGSHOT, and my first post after a long time not writing. navigation.

The stage lights...still lingered behind his eyes long after the performance ended

Even after the screaming crowds, the deafening music, the cameras constantly pointed toward him from varying angles, even after stepping off stage and bowing one last time with the other members beneath blinding lights, ohyul could still feel everything buzzing faintly beneath his skin.

Tonight's performance had been exhausting. however, not in a bad way.

Actually, it was a satisfying kind of way.

The kind that left his muscles sore and his chest heaving afterward, sweat sticking uncomfortably to his skin beneath layered stage outfits.

LNGSHOT had only debuted a few months ago and yet somehow, after everything, all their hard work before their debut, all the hate, or all the flying and concerts, the packed schedules, everything already felt overwhelming in the best and but also worst ways possible.

To this day, Ohyul still finds it quite shocking how some people recognize him more often now when he crosses the street, be it in seoul it or the country he visits abroad and during their performances on stage, there are people actually screaming his name.

And honestly, it still felt unreal sometimes.

By the time the members finally returned to the dorm, everyone looked half dead.

Woojin disappeared straight into his room without even saying goodnight, Louis dramatically complained about starving before immediately lying face down onto the couch instead of actually getting food, and Ryul went to scold Louis.

Ohyul only laughed quietly at the sight before heading for the shower himself.

Warm water eased some of the tension from his body, washing away sweat, hairspray, and the lingering stickiness from performing under hot stage lights. By the time he changed into more comfortable clothes afterward, exhaustion sat heavier against his shoulders.

Now, most people, normal people at this time would've probably gone straight to sleep.

But not Kwon Ohyul.

He still reached for a hoodie.

Still slipped on his shoes.

Still left the dorm.

Because no matter how busy life became for him, Kwon Ohyul, never skipped his runs.

To him, running had always been one of the few things that cleared his head properly. Especially after long performances where adrenaline still lingered long after the stage ended.

And tonight, the weather felt nice enough for it.

The summer heat had finally calmed after today's evening rain earlier, leaving the air cool and damp instead of the unbearably humid. The streets still shimmered faintly beneath the city lights, the puddles reflecting neon signs and passing headlights as he ran through the quieter roads.

The rhythmic sound of his footsteps against the wet pavement slowly drowned out the noise in his head.

Out here, nobody could really bother him.

There were no cameras. No managers. No expectations from crowds.

Just him running through the cool air that hits against his skin, and the steady burn in his lungs as he ran.

Oh how he liked that feeling.

Liked how the city softened at this quiet night.

Eventually though, his pace slowed little by little until he finally came to a stop near a familiar street corner, his breathing heavier now as he dragged a hand through his slightly damp hair.

A nearby convenience store glowed warmly against the dark street ahead, bright lights reflecting across the rain slick pavement.

Right now....food sounded good.

Or at least a cold drink.

Something small for him to consume before heading back to the dorm.

Adjusting the face mask resting over the lower half of his face, Ohyul started walking toward the store,

Before slowing again...

There was someone sitting outside near the small tables beside the convenience store.

A girl.

A hood pulled over her head slightly, one leg tucked beneath the other as she scrolled absentmindedly through her phone.

The steam rose from the cup of ramyeon sitting in front of her, drifting upward into the cool night air. Beside it sat convenience store sushi and an opened drink can that had probably gone warm already considering how long it had...sat there.

Music leaked faintly from her earbuds whenever she shifted.

And draped around her shoulders—

Was a familiar blue hoodie.

Ohyul's steps slowed unconsciously.

Because something about it felt incredibly familiar immediately.

His chest tightened before his thoughts fully caught up.

Because he knew that hoodie all too well.

He knew the exact shade of blue faded from too many washes. Knew the sleeves stretched slightly from someone constantly pulling them over their hands.

For a second, it felt like time stopped on him. Ohyul forgot about the convenience store entirely. Forgot about the exhaustion weighing down his body. Forgot about the city around him.

Because suddenly all he could see...

was you.

And even after all this time,

he recognized you instantly.

The memory hit him quietly first.

Not like a sudden flash like you'd get when a camera clicks at you with it's flash on.

It was more like a soft tugging at the edges of his thoughts...soft, uninvited but impossible to ignore.

And suddenly

He was no longer at the convenience store.

He was back to that day.

Where it had been raining non-stop.

The kind of rain that didn't stop properly, just shifted between light drizzles and sudden heavier bursts as if the sky was indecisive that it couldn't decide what it wanted to do.

Ohyul had already walked out from Morevision's studio earlier that evening. An umbrella is hand, his navy blue jacket pulled tighter around himself than usual. He didn't mind the cold too much.

In fact, he almost preferred it like this. It was quiet, the streets were empty and there was no unnecessary street drama. If that makes sense.

A small cafe sat near the corner he passed on weekends. Warm lights spilled through its windows. Soft against the gray outside.

He only meant to stop in for a drink. Something warm, something simple. Just a small break before heading back.

The cafe was quiet when he entered. A few scattered customers. Mostly a couple of students hunched over laptops and papers. Someone reading by the window as the soft hum of music and rain tapping against the glass filled the space comfortably.

Ohyul ordered a drink without much thought and ended up choosing a seat near the window. He stared at the glass pane, looking outside, where the rain blurred into the streaks of grey and reflection.

That was when he saw you.

You, who were rushing under the rain from one stop to the cafe, head slightly ducked as if that alone could help. You, who clutched tightly around a large sling bag—pressed over your head in a failed attempt of shelter from the heavy rain.

And obviously, that didn't work and you ended up drenched. Not completely soaked enough that your clothes clung slightly to your figure. Ohyul noticed you, a stranger, your steps that looked increasingly frustrated with every second.

Eventually, the stranger stopped right outside the cafe entrance. Eventually stopping under the table outside with a large parasol attached to it.

You cursed under your breath, unbeknownst to the boy staring at you from the glass inside the cafe.

"seriously, of all days..."

Although the boy couldn't hear what you had said from inside, the irritation was obvious.

You adjusted the bag slightly, clearly debating whether to just run through the rain again or wait it out even though it didn't seem to have any plans of stopping anytime soon.

Ohyul blinked. His mind wandering in his head. Where have he seen you before. And eventually it clicked.

He did know you, though not well...or perhaps not yet but just vaguely he knew where he recognized you from.

A classmate. Someone who attended hanlim arts highschool along with him. One of his closest friends—Woonhak's friends. He never spoke to you before but he'd seen you wander around the halls enough to recognize who you were.

Eventually, his eyes caught the way you shifted again, clearly cold now, shoulders slightly tense as you looked at the reflection from one of them glass panes of the cafe as if it had personally betrayed you.

Something about that...made him pause.

And before he could overthink it—

Ohyul stood up.

The chair, scraped lightly against the wooden floor. A few people glanced over but paid no real interest to it—eventually looking away.

He grabbed his umbrella and walked towards the door. When he stepped outside the cold hit him immediately. He slowly walked to the table, to you standing under the parasol.

And you noticed him instantly.

"...uh?" she made a small sound of confusion.

Ohyul stopped right in front of you, when he realized too late that he hadn't thought this through. And for a second, there was just...silence. The sound of rain slowly muffled.

Then he cleared his throat slightly.

"you're drenched.." he said bluntly.

You blinked, confused. "I'm aware...?"

A pause.

"Right..."

That made you exhale through through nose, almost a laugh but not quite one. "Did you come out here just so you could tell me that..?"

"No.."

Another pause

"Are you...going to wait for the rain to stop?"

You chuckled before looking at the heavy rain. "I'm hoping it does." you muttered. "But clearly it had something against me...so I doubt it."

That got a small huff of air out of him. Almost a laugh.

Ohyul hesitated again...then without really thinking it through. He took off his hoodie.

"What are you doing?" you asked, perplexed at his actions. He outstretched his hands, the hoodie held out slightly for her to take it. "You're cold."

You blinked. He was right but... you've never been the type to admit vulnerability. "I'm drenched." You corrected, out of pride. "There's a difference."

"I know."

Eventually silence filled in again.

You stared at him, as if trying to figure out if he was serious or if he was just...strange.

"You don't even know me.." you pointed out.

"I know." He said simply.

That didn't help his case at all. But he still held the hoodie out, waiting for you to take it. After a few seconds of hesitation, you sighed. Your hands remained hugging your figure due to the cold.

"okay...this is either really kind of you, really weird."

"it's just a hoodie. It's not a big deal." He replied.

"From a stranger."

"Not exactly, we're classmates."

Eventually, you decided that...there was no way you could argue with him. You did recognize him, you saw him in hallways, you saw him with woonhak in class. So...he was technically not a stranger.

"Fine.." you muttered, reaching for the hoodie.

Your fingers didn't really touch him, but both of you felt something shift that day.

The hoodie was warm... probably from body heat. You immediately pulled it on, the oversized fabric swallowing you slightly.

"This is...definitely going to be weird to return." you muttered.

"Then you don't have to return it." he replied without thinking.

You paused. "That sounds even worse." That made him laugh.

"You're really strange."

"I've been told." He has, a lot. By Ryul. By Woonhak and by the staff of Morevision.

Another beat of silence.

But it wasn't uncomfortable. Just unfamiliar.

Your head tilted slightly, looking at him properly now for the first time.

"…Why did you come out here anyway?"

He glanced at the cafe behind them.

"You mean why I'm at the cafe?"

"Yes"

"…Warm coffee."

"That’s it?"

"It's cold today."

She nodded slowly like that made more sense.

"…Yeah, okay, that tracks."

Then, after a pause—

"I'll return this later," she added reluctantly. "Probably."

"You don't have to," he repeated.

"I'm going to," she insisted. “It’s basic respect.”

He didn't argue this time. Just nodded slightly.

The rain continued falling around them, softer now in the background of the café’s warm light.

"…You should go inside," he said after a moment.

"You too," she replied.

He paused.

"…Yeah."

Neither of them moved immediately.

Then finally, she stepped slightly toward the cafe door. Before entering, she looked back once.

"…Thanks, by the way."

He gave a small nod.

And somehow…

That didn’t feel like the last time they'd speak.

And it wasn't, because after that day, seeing each other somehow became normal.

At first, it happened through coincidence more than intention. You guys would pass each other through the schools hallways. There would be brief greetings exchanged during classes. Small acknowledgements whenever Woonhak dragged one of you into conversations with the other because he found out that you've conversed before and in his words it felt like he missed a whole chapter. Sometimes you'd end up walking together without really planning to, simply because they were heading the same direction anyway.

Then slowly—it stopped feeling accidental. The hoodie became an excuse at first. A reason to talk again where you kept insisting you'd return it eventually, yet every time you brought it up, something interrupted it and both of you would get distracted, be it during another shared walk with eachother or another afternoon where you two would linger around each other longer than necessary.

And somehow, somewhere between all of that—you two became close, so close it became obvious to others except the two of you. It started with little things. the shared drinks during breaks. The late night calls and messages, or the the moments of him sitting beside you during lunch while you kept rambling tiredly about something crazy you eavesdropped from someone as he rested his head on the table with you knowing well that he wasn't fully listening. But what mattered was that he cared enough to stay.

Back then, It was just you and him. Just two exhausted teenagers due to school, practices and other stuff life had offered them. Two teenagers who were trainees under different entertainment companies with big dreams who found comfort in eachother. Because somehow being with eachother felt so easy. so warm.

As time passes on, somehow and somewhere, being around each other made it easier. Like you could breathe properly for a moment.

Where some nights ended with long phone calls after practic and neither of you wanted to hang up first. There would sometimes be days where you both would barely even talk, just listening to eachother after after a long and exhausting day.

And other times, you would both talk until the sunrise threatened the edges of their windows through the blinds. You both would talk about dreams. About your hopes and wishes before and after debuting. About fears neither of you would admit to anyone else.

The closer you became, the more natural everything had felt.

Waiting outside each for eachother after school just to walk home together beneath the flickering streetlights. or the times where the both if you were sharing umbrellas during lazy rainy afternoons while his shoulder always ended up damp because he kept tilting it more towards you. The first time he held your hand happened naturally enough that neither of them even mentioned it afterward.

And when you both finally started dating, nothing really changed. Well....at least,

Not immediately.

Because you both already loved each other long before placing a lable onto it. Back then, the relationship felt soft in the way only first love could. It was messy. Young and overwhelmingly sincere.

The two of you loved each other through the exhaustion, through sore muscles after a long day of a workout or dance practice and through the nights where everything felt suffocating.

So maybe that was why losing each other later hurt so much.

Because for a while—both of you had been everything to one another. But of course growing older changed things quietly. Your schedules didnt line up with one another which led to less frequent hang outs. because when one of you had a break, the other would be busy.

Then thats where it started.

There were fewer shared walks home. Fewer late night calls with eachother. Replies became delayed, and that was not because either of you simply stopped caring and loving one another,

but because both if you were simply too exhausted to give more than what's already there.

And before you could notice, in just a blink of an eye, conversations turned into arguments. They weren't explosive. Just tired frustration and built up stress spilling onto the wrong person.

And suddenly there was a huge gap between you and him. a distance. Too many apologies spilled out from eachother. And eventually, even being together started feeling heavy. It no longer felt warm and easy. Instead it felt like trying to desperately hold onto something while slowly losing yourselves in the process. You both still loved each other dearly.

And that was the problem wasn't it?

Both you and Ohyul loved each other enough to notice how unhappy the other had become. Enough to realize neither of you knew how to keep giving without completely emptying yourselves. So both of you made a difficult decision.

Before graduation.

You chose to let go. And so did he. It was quiet. It was painful.

Because you the love for eachother never disappeared.

And afterward, life simply…kept moving. Graduation came. The preperations for debuting intensified. Your paths diverged naturally after that. That's it. No dramatic ending.

Just a distance settling where your love used to live.

And somehow—that hurt the most.

The steam from the ramyeon had started fading by the time Ohyul finally sat down across from you.

He didnt know why he chose to sat down, every part of his bone had screamed at him that it was a bad idea yet...his brain refused to listened and his instincts acted.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Strange isn't it?

How someone could become a stranger and still feel familiar at the exact same time.

"I see you still go out late at night to run" you pointed out eventually, pulling one earbud out completely this time.

Ohyul let out a quiet breath through his nose. "And you still have a habit of buying food but not eating it."

You glanced at the untouched ramyeon in front of you before giving a small shrug. “Fair point.”

Silence settled again. Not awkward. Just careful. It was evident that both of you were trying to figure out where to place years of distance between an attempt to have an ordinary conversation.

Then—"You debuted," you said softly.

And to Ohyul it still sounded slightly unreal coming from her. "Yeah..." Ohyul laughed quietly. "So did you."

You blinked surprised that he was aware. "You know?"

"I've seen clips online." He leaned back slightly in his chair. "Seems like you're doing pretty well."

A small sound left you, somewhere stuck between embarrassment and disbelief. "That’s… weird."

“What is?”

"You knowing that."

"You thought i wouldn't?"

"I don’t know." You looked down at your drink for a second before letting out a quieter laugh. "I guess I just didn't expect you to know about it."

Ohyul nodded slowly. Because to be frank, he understood that feeling more than he wanted to admit. There was another pause before you spoke again.

"You’ve changed." you laughed, admiring his new features now that his hood was down and so was his face mask that had concealed his face. "Your hair's longer and your braces gone..."

"Hopefully i changed in a good way..."

"Mmmm....I'm still deciding."

That made him laugh properly this time. God. How he forgot how easy talking to you used to feel.

"So how's the others? Woojin, Ryul." you asked.

"They're...well them?"

"So nothing changed."

"No not much."

A small laugh escaped your lips again. and God Ohyul found himself staring for half a second too long before looking away.

And somehow, little by little, as the night continued, the tension eased. The conversation started flowing more naturally after that. The two of you talked about schedules. About how exhausting debut life actually feels like compared to how glamorous people thought it looked online. But even so, everything felt exhilirating in a good way. At one point you started laughing while telling a story about your members and Ohyul found himself laughing hard enough that he had to lower his head slightly.

God...it felt familiar. Dangerously familiar. It was as if they were stepping into an old memory. And for a second, it almost scared both o of you, how easy it was to just slip back into this version of themselves. The version before things became complicated with eachother. Before distance they created together, before silence, before things got so exhausting.

At some point, your laughter softened.

and his gaze had drifted again. But not to your face this time. But to the familiar hoodie you were wearing. The navy blue hoodie that once belong to him.

It was subtle at first—almost absentminded. Like his eyes had simply fallen there while his mind was elsewhere. But then it lingered longer than it should've.

Until it wasn't absentminded anymore. You noticed eventually.

"…What?" you asked, glancing down at yourself before following his gaze. "What are you looking at?" Ohyul blinked once, like he had just been pulled back into the moment. Then he let out a quiet laugh. It wasn't dramatic, just...surprised.

That caught your attention immediately.

"What?" you repeated your eyes narrowed slightly.

He shook his head lightly, still smiling a little to himself. "I was just wondering…" he started slowly, voice calmer now, "…if you ever fixed that zipper."

That made you pause. Then you looked down at the hoodie too. “…Clearly not.” There was no hesitation laced in your answer. He hummed, leaning back slightly in his chair. "Yeah, I can see that."

A beat. Then, almost like he couldn’t help himself—

"You broke it, didn’t you?"

Your head snapped up immediately.

"I did NOT break it."

"Oh, you definitely did."

"I didn’t even do anything to it?!" You defended instantly. "It was already fragile when you gave it to me."

"That’s not true."

"it is so true."

He tilted his head slightly, like he was genuinely considering her argument, but the faint smile on his face ruined his seriousness.

"You used to fidget with it all the time," he said, slower now, like he was recalling it. "You'd just keep zipping it up and down while talking whenever you wore it. Like it was a habit."

"That does NOT break a zipper."

"You also never stopped doing it."

You frowned slightly. "That's not why it broke."

"Yes it was."

"How are you so sure huh?"

"It literally broke while you were doing it."

"If i don't remember it, it clearly never happened."

Ohyul laughed under his breath at that.

"Oh really...? how conveinient."

You leaned forward a little now, fully engaged in the argument despite the fact that neither of you actually sounded angry.

"I'm telling you, it was cheap ass material. wherever you bought it."

"I beg to differ...it survived me wearing it. It survived during rainy days. It survived before i gave it to you," he listed, ticking each point off casually, "but it didn’t survive you."

"That’s insulting. and very offending"

"Oh c'mon, it’s honest."

"It’s wrong."

"Is it?"

You stared at him for a second..becuase it wasn't wrong. you were just to prideful to admit it did break because of you. Eventually, you let out a small exhale through your nose, giving up on winning.

"…Whatever."

That should've been the end of it. But instead, the silence that followed didn't feel empty. It felt… reflective. Your fingers, still wrapped in the sleeve. And your eyes looked down at the hoodie again.

"…Do you… want it back?" The question hung there differently than everything before it. Ohyul sensed it. The hesitation that was laced in your question. Like you weren't sure if you should even be asking.

Ohyul didn’t answer immediately. For a second, his gaze dropped back to the hoodie too.

And suddenly—it wasn't just a hoodie.

It was the rain. The cold air biting at his skin. The cafe doorway. The memory of you standing outside, annoyed at the weather, soaked at the edges of your clothes, holding a bag over your head like it could fight the sky.

Then it was him stepping outside without much thought of it. It was warmth leaving his jacket and settling onto her shoulders. It was a stranger he didn't know then—

who somehow ended up becoming someone he couldn't really forget.

And then—memories came flooding one by one. The laughter in empty hallways. The shared beverages and snacks. The late night quiet conversations that lasted too long be it in person, through messages or calls. The running around in the rain when he had worked so hard to keep the umbrella on your side. The times where you'd share an earbud, your head resting on his shoulder. The version of life with you that felt simpler, even when it wasn't.

His gaze softened without him noticing. Then he let out a small breath. A faint smile appeared after and you can't lie, your heart still tugged because of it. That smile, that damn smile.

The smile he gives to you after a long day, the smile he'd have whenever you're feeling down telling you everything will be okay even if he wasn't sure himseld. The smile he'd show you to reassure you. It was so familiar, so warm and so genuine.

"…No," he said quietly.

You blinked confused.

"No?"

He shook his head once.

"Keep it."

A pause.

"You kept it for this long," he added, tone lighter now, almost teasing again, "why return it now?"

The tension on your shoulders, one you didn't even realize you were holding eased slightly.

and you leaned back a little. clearing you throat.

"…I was just asking."

"Mm."

There was a beat. Then he smiled faintly, eyes flicking back to you.

"Though I doubt you actually planne'd to give it back anyway."

That earned an immediate reaction. "I did."

"You didn't"

"I did!"

"You said that every time," he pointed out smoothly. "And every time, somehow you conveniently forgot."

"That was back then," you insisted. "I meant it this time..."

He raised a brow slightly. "Sure you did.."

"Don’t 'sure you' me mister."

His laugh came easier this time.

It was warm. Familiar in a way that made the moment feel less like two strangers catching up—but more like something that had briefly been paused rather than ended.

You huffed slightly, but there was a small smile tugging at your expression now too.

"You’re still annoying,"

"You're still wearing my hoodie"

"I'm wearing it."

"Same thing."

"It is not the same thing."

"Is it?"

"Yes it is—"

But you stopped yourself mid sentence. And your eyes drifted to look at him. And for a second, neither of you spoke. The laughter didn't fully disappear.

It just softened. Hung in the air a little quieter than before.

And something about it—something about sitting there like this again, arguing over something so small, so stupid, so normal—

made everything else feel strangely distant.

Like time hadn't completely erased them. Just stretched them apart. And it felt like you two were teenagers again...just a little older this time.

Until finally—

you exhaled slowly. you laughed, because god how you missed this feeling. how you missed talking to him like this even if things had clearly changed between them, even if they grew older, maturer into the perso they are now.

That caught his attention. For a brief second, neither of them said anything. But God. Ohyul missed this as much as you did.

Then quietly, unexpectedly—

"I miss this."

His gaze lifted towards you, surprised that you had chose to acknowledge the elephant in the atmosphere.

"You know…" you murmured, glancing down at the untouched food in front of you, "when it was just us."

A pause.

"Talking like this." you added.

Ohyul swallowed slowly.

"…Yeah."

Another small pause.

Then softer—

"Me too."

Silence settled between them again, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. If anything, it felt almost warm. Like finding something you thought you lost years ago. Eventually, Ohyul glanced down at his phone.The time made him exhale quietly.

"It's really late," he muttered.

"It is..."

He pushed himself up from the chair reluctantly, adjusting the mask resting beneath his chin again.

"I should probably head back before the others notices I've been gone too long."

"I can imagine the fuss they are gonna make" you chuckled.

He laughed again, shaking his head lightly.

God. There it was again. That feeling. Like no matter how much time passed, talking to you still came so naturally. He hesitated briefly before speaking again.

"…Hey."

You looked up. Ohyul rubbed the back of his neck once, suddenly feeling strangely nervous.

"Is your number still the same from back then?"

A small flicker of surprise crossed your expression. "…Yeah," she answered slowly. "Why?"

He glanced away for a second, embarassed, nervouse and hesitant before looking back at you again.

"If it’s not too much trouble…" he started quietly, "and if you’re not busy sometime…"

His voice softened slightly.

"Maybe we could catch up properly"

For a moment, you simply looked at him.

Then slowly—

"…Yeah," you said softly.

A small smile appeared afterward.

"I'd like that."

And somehow, beneath the luminiscent convenience store lights and the remains of the rare summer rain from this evening,

it felt a little like fate had decided to give them one more chance.

thanks for reading <3

edited: it didn't save my first draft I'm gonna cry, hopefully it's still good cause I ended up rushing it.

[vvnothinspcial]

hear me out: the professional volleyball players with a significant other who plays badminton as a career and is a pro-athlete of that sport as well. I mean, both sports have their similarities, it's on the court, it requires a lot of footwork too right. (FLUFF) (unedited, will reread for mistakes soon..)

a/n: okay so I haven't been posting (exam seasons soon) but like I was recently playing badminton, and like c'mon, just try to imagine a volleyball player falling in love with a badminton pro? just two athletes who speak the same language of passion and discipline. Gah!

characters: timeskip!! miya atsumu, oikawa tooru, hinata shoyo, kageyama tobio, ushijima wakatoshi, suna rintarou, sakusa kiyoomi, bokuto kotaro, hoshiumi kourai

𐔌 MIYA ATSUMU -

atsumu definitely DOES NOT KNOW how to sit STILL when watching you play.

I mean like—bros gonna be standing the whole match, fist clenches, screaming "HELL YEAH," or "LETS GOOO," at every point you score.

The audience has practically learned to accept it...

boy...yk hes definitely the type to say volleyball >> badminton

Until he watches you play and absolutely OBLITERATE someone with a smash. Oh yeah fuck he's gonna start reconsidering his whole view on sports...

The type to insist for the two of you to have "friendly matches" during his off days from volleyball.

Which..ends with him dramatically falling to the ground because you keep aiming and smashing at his legs...

"Ya can't just target at me like that babe!"

"it's called strategy 'tsumu..."

"no that was called BETRAYAL UGH,"

His competitive side doesn't stop there, if you get interviewed after a tournament and they mention having training partners oh boy...

He would immediately text you, "hey babe ya mean me right 🥹," it's so ridiculous HAHAHA

But even so, on the real side—we know he's definitely your biggest fan. He'll arrange flights to make sure he can catch your finals if it's overseas.

And if he cant since he's a pro athlete as well, he'll stream it on his phone during his practice games with the black jackals

"MIYA PUT YOUR PHONE DOWN,"

"But coach?! THEY'RE SERVIN', ya won't understand this is important!"

Yes, whenever you get anxious before your matches, atsumu would distract you by jokingly doing commentator voices or perhaps even challenging you to mirror warm ups

"if ya win this, I'll cook dinner,"

"you mean order take out...?"

"oh the details the details..."

he also claims badminton is easier than volleyball until he plays seriously once with you...

And boy you were ruthless that he nearly trips trying to pivot 😭😭

"this court is cursed, 's all I'm saying.."

𐔌 KAGEYAMA TOBIO -

kageyama is the type to pretend to be calm about you being a pro athlete

But inside, oh he's a full blown nerd about it,

Just for you, he studies badminton serves like volleyball serves and recieves

When he watches you play, he sits completely still—but his jaw is clenched, eyes locked on every movement like he's analysing a volleyball play

"you moved...really fast that time.."

"Do you...mean the whole game?"

"Yeah."

he's a man of few words, but the way he supports you is through his actions—

carrying your training gear, checking your water, making sure you eat between matches, texting you to not overdo yourself,

Sometimes you'll drag him to a friendly doubles match with your grandparents (who somehow could move even at an old age)

You pick up the light in his eyes and he's so focused it's not even funny 😭😭

"tobio...it's not a tournament."

"But if we lose—" "

We're playing against my grandparents for gods sake..,"

He somehow develops a rivalry with your coach?

No it's not because he dislikes your coach but because they tell him to not "distract" you during warm ups.

And He stands five feet away with a blank expression like: 😐

When you win tho? he would be quiet for a moment but—he smiles, rare and soft

"You're...amazing,"

"Woah? that's high praise coming from the king of the court,"

"...Shut up."

If you ever get anxious before matches, he doesn't talk much but he'd hold your hand and mutter...

"Don't think too much, just do what you always do,"

The steadiness in his tone works everytime

Occasionally he does try badminton too, he's too precise, too powerful too and somehow he would end up hitting the shuttle through the racket strings.

Your poor racket 😓

𐔌 OIKAWA TOORU -

Oh the drama king himself...he LOVES that you're a pro athlete because now it's one of his favorite things to brag about

"Oh you play badminton too? My partner plays badminton, internationally. They're amazing!"

He actually learns badminton terminology just to sound smart in case when he's spotted during your matches by interviewers

"Oh yes yes, the shuttle speed was incredible, right? What a smash!"

He records your matches, makes ridiculous edits of it's and even post them with captions like:

"they're faster than when I serve 🥹,"

When he visits your training, annoyingly he somehow manages to befriend everyone...yes including your rival...you would glare at him like—

"You cant be charming everyone tooru.."

"oh darling, it's practically my gift,"

He is also lowk jealous that you play a sport where jumping and spinning to get a smash looks graceful

He tries it once and misses...lands flat and you never let him live it down 👎

"STOP LAUGHING THE FLOOR WAS SLIPPERY,"

But he also is incredibly soft after you lose a match

He listens to your rants, helps massage your shoulders and whispers reassurance like

"Even the strongest players have bad days my love, it just means your next victory will be even brighter,"

"Even you sometimes?"

"mhm even me."

He occasionally would bring his volleyball to your practice (you play with him sometimes) to teach you how to "spike" properly

Your coach now has a restraining order (emotionally) 😭

He's supportive to a fault. Yes loud cheers, and teary eyes when you win.

It gets to the point where he called iwaizumi once just to say—

"They did it iwa-chan, they did it!"

"Oikawa calm down you're not even in Japan..."

𐔌 USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI -

To everyone else, ushijima watching badminton looks like a statue appreciating silence.

He sits perfectly straight, arms crossed, eyes locked on the shuttle like he’s decoding battle strategy.

But if you look closer—his lips twitch whenever you score.

That’s his version of cheering.

He respects badminton deeply because it’s a one-on-one sport.

The mental endurance and footwork fascinates him and sometimes you’ll catch him rewatching your matches just to understand your court movements.

"Your reaction time is impressive. The shuttle reached 300 kilometers per hour."

"…That’s the point, toshi."

Whenever he seems to have time he'd train with you but...

Training together is unintentionally hilarious 😭

He’s so used to volleyball footwork that when you try to teach him badminton stances, he moves like he’s blocking a spike.

" 'toshi you don’t have to jump."

"But that’s where the smash comes from."

"This isn’t volleyball!"

He’s the type to appear at your tournaments quietly

It gets to the point where you don’t even know he’s in the crowd until someone whispers— “Is that Ushijima Wakatoshi from the Schweiden Adlers?” "really where?!"

When you’re anxious, he grounds you with presence, not words.

He’ll stand behind you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder, his voice calm and deep

"You’ve trained for this. Your body knows what to do. So trust it."

After you win, boy oh boy he gives the smallest but warmest smile. So rare to the crowd.

"You were incredible."

"You watched the whole thing?"

"Of course. I’m not the type to miss something important."

He doesn’t understand why you laugh when he tries your sport, but he accepts it with pride

Even when he hits the shuttle out of the gym.

"That was too strong my bad."

"You sent it to orbit, 'toshi."

"...Power is my strength.*

𐔌 SAKUSA KIYOOMI -

Sakusa is lowkey obsessed with your precision.

To this man, you’re his definition of control and composure

He respects the focus it takes to play badminton at a professional level.

But oh boy...he’ll never admit that at first.

“It’s… impressive, I guess.”

"You just watched me win a championship."

"…You’re impressive."

When you invite him to your training, he stands off to the side with arms crossed, analyzing.

You can almost feel the mental note-taking: footwork, grip, serve style.

He’s way too competitive during friendly matches.

You can tell he’s not trying to “win,” he’s trying to “not lose.”

"Kiyoomi, you know you can relax."

"I am relaxed. You’re just underestimating me."

"You’ve hit the net six times."

"…That’s part of my strategy."

The first time he gets a proper rally going with you,

He WILL smirk so smugly you know he’s going to bring it up for weeks.

He’s not big on PDA at your matches—

He prefers quietly waiting by the exit with a towel and water bottle ready for you.

"You forgot to stretch your wrist again."

"You noticed?"

"I notice everything."

Sakusa’s idea of supporting you during anxiety is quiet, steady grounding.

He’ll coax you to slow your breathing and talk softly until your hands stop shaking.

"Hey, don’t spiral. Just focus on now. You’ve got this, yeah?"

"...You’re not even smiling."

"Don’t need to. You’ll still win."

He secretly loves your sport because it’s played indoors like volleyball (cleaner, less chance of germs)

(a/n: ik he's not a germaphobe but if I'm not wrong it's his ocd, an intrusive anxiety where he thinks something unclean could harm him or the people he loves)

and your coordination genuinely impresses him.

Sometimes he jokes about it too...

"We should swap for a day. I’ll try your sport if you can handle the sweat in mine."

"No deal."

"Coward."

𐔌 SUNA RINTAROU -

Oh he's annoying about it

He's the KING OF TEASING.

From the moment he finds out you’re a pro badminton player, his favorite new hobby is calling you "featherweight."

"Look at you, professional birdie slayer."

"Say that again and I’ll smash the shuttle into your face."

"See? Aggressive. Very athlete like of you."

Sometimes when he's tired after a match, He shows up to your matches wearing a hoodie, half-asleep, claiming he’s "just there for moral support."

Five minutes later, he’s clapping way too hard when you score.

"That’s my partner."

"You said you were sleepy."

"Yeah, but watching you destroy that person woke me up."

If you ever drag him into a badminton match, he plays it lazy on purpose—just to get you riled up.

The second you start trash-talking him tho, he suddenly turns into some olympic finalist

"Fuck you, you weren’t trying before!"

"Yeah, you looked cute when you were mad."

He’s actually a quiet observer of your career.

By that I mean he keeps track of your tournaments, remembers your stats, sends you little messages like..

"Congrats on winning, featherweight."

"Wow, you’re proud of me."

"..Yeah. Don’t tell anyone."

During your anxious moments, Suna is the type that uses humor as a grounding tool.

"You’re overthinking again."

"I can’t help it."

"Then think about this, how many interviews do you think I can crash by saying you beat me and humiliate me in badminton?"

"…That’s actually helping."

He takes photos of you mid-swing and makes edits with dramatic music just to annoy you.

"I made you look cool."

"You added flames and weird stuff to it rin."

"Exactly."

Despite the sarcasm, he’s the quietest kind of supportive

He's there to show up when it matters, hugs you after losses, and murmurs things like...

"You did good, y’know. You always do."

𐔌 HOSHIUMI KOURAI -

When he first found out you were a professional athlete, he got super excited. And I mean SUPER EXCITED.

“Wait—you’re a pro? Like, internationally?!”

“Yeah?”

“THAT’S SO COOL WE’RE BOTH SPORTS ELITES!!”

He immediately starts calling you his rival, even though your sports are completely different....

"Let’s have a speed match. Your shuttle serve vs my spike serve"

"Kourai, no, that’s—"

"—SCIENCE DEMANDS IT."

Watching your matches turns him into a one man cheer squad. He yells, jumps, gestures wildly,

He's basically your personal mascot with hirugami thinking it's ridiculous..

"YES, THAT’S MY PARTNER!! LOOK AT THAT FORM!"

"Kourai, please, you’re scaring the officials."

He loves practicing with you but has zero chill.

You tell him to take it easy for warm up rallies and he’s already diving like it’s a national final.

"You don’t need to do a receive roll for badminton!"

"It’s muscle memory!"

Despite his energy, he’s very observant of your emotions.

If you ever seem anxious, he’ll crouch next to you with that small, sincere smile that only appears off-court.

"Hey, don’t think too much, yeah? You’ve got this. I believe in you."

After your wins, he practically tackles you in celebration, lifting you off the ground and spinning.

"You were amazing! You looked like lightning out there!"

"So did you when you were screaming."

"We make a perfect team."

He definitely tries badminton seriously once but his jump is too strong

and he accidentally slams into the net mid-air.

"I’m fine! Totally fine! The net’s fine too—right?"

"You snapped it, Kourai."

"...It had a good run."

𐔌 BOKUTO KOTARO -

The most enthusiastic boyfriend ever.

You could tell him you won a small local scrimmage and he’d react like you brought home Olympic gold.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! YOU’RE INCREDIBLE!!"

"Taro...that was just a practice match,"

"HEY EVERY MATCH COUNTS RIGHT?"

He becomes your loudest supporter at tournaments

The audience and other players recognize him for being your biggest supporter and being a volleyball player atp...

"That's Bokuto-san right? He plays for the MSBY Black Jackals in volleyball right?"

"Yeah and he’s ridiculously waving a badminton racket like a flag again."

He begs you to teach him how to play...and it goes exactly how you’d expect.

His swings are way too strong, he nearly takes out a light, and the shuttle explodes into feathers.

"Whoa!! did I win?!"

"You broke it."

"Cool."

Actually he also accidentally threw the racket and received the shuttle using his hands..

He’s ridiculously proud of you and never misses a chance to talk about you during interviews.

"I get my motivation from my partner—they’re a badminton pro!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, they can probably beat me in an arm wrestle too." (You can't he's exaggerating it)

When you panic or overthink, Bokuto becomes surprisingly gentle. He lowers his voice, cups your cheeks, and says..

"Hey, hey, it’s okay! You always say I can do it, right? Then I’m saying it now. You can do it."

He’s the type to buy matching tracksuits and schedule "couple training days."

You suspect he just wants to show off, but you go along with it anyway

"We’re the ultimate duo!" "We look like a PE commercial." "Exactly!!"

After your matches, he’ll absolutely run to you full speed

I mean like run and leap into a hug, and almost topple both of you. Security now knows him by name.

"Bokuto-san, please—"

"BUT THEY WON!!"

𐔌 HINATA SHOYO -

Oh boy...Hinata ADORES that you’re a badminton player.

To him, it’s like watching a version of his own sport in fast forward.

"You move like, like a bird!"

"That’s... kinda the point?"

"Exactly! You’re amazing!"

The first time he watched your match, he couldn’t stop bouncing in his seat.

"Did you see that jump?!"

"Sir...you’re the only one talking."

"I KNOW, THEY’RE SO GOOD!"

He loves training with you

You teach him balance and footwork while he teaches you stamina and jump control.

"How do you move that fast sideways?"

"How do you jump that high?"

"Magic."

When he’s in Japan and you’re playing overseas, he stays up to stream your matches.

He texts live reactions in all caps

His teammate Meian caught him though..

"THAT WAS SO COOL OMGGGGGGGG"

"You’re supposed to be sleeping, Hinata."

"CAN’T. ADRENALINE."

He’s SOOOO hyper but so genuine when comforting you before matches.

"Hey, remember that one time I missed, like, five serves in a row?"

"...Yeah?"

"And I still got back up. You will too. You always do."

He’s the type to celebrate with small gestures

A home cooked meal (thats...questionably edible), silly dances, or surprise banners in your apartment.

"You made a banner that says ‘SMASH KING/QUEEN.’"

"It’s accurate!"

The first time you beat him in badminton, he demands a rematch.

Then another....then another.

You eventually realize he’s just using it as an excuse to hang out more.

"Sho...you lost eight times."

"That’s called persistence."

I plan to do a part two with this...by part two I would say a sequel with short drabbles of it instead of headcanons but idk if I should?

Thanks for reading though, if you made it this far <3

like and reblogs are highly appreciated

[vvnothinspcial]

. having a significant other who rambles and talks too fast when they have a panic/anxiety attack is not easy to handle, so in a situation where it does happen...how do they handle it?

featuring: haikyuu men and blue lock men !!

Authors note: I tend to do this tbh, and sometimes my friends have a hard time telling me to calm down because they can't seem to cut me off. this is a bit of a personal post but why not? also I'm accepting requests because...I just started writing and I'm in need of prompts if ygwim? haha feel free to go on my ask box. Also maybe some of the names will repeat since I'm indecisive...

ᛪ ͜ 　ʾʾ　𓏵　THE PATIENT LISTENERS

The words tumbled out too fast, they were a stream of jumbled syllables that barely made sense. Their hands twisted in their lap, their breaths were shallow, and the more they tried to slow down....the more frantic their words became. They hated it. “Wait, wait, hey it’s okay,” he interrupted softly, but it wasnt to silence them. His voice stayed steady and grounding. “You can talk. I’m listening. Just breathe with me, alright? I promise it'll be okay...” He leaned closer, nodding slowly in rhythm, exaggerating his inhales and exhales until they had something to follow. They tried to match him, but the panic still buzzed sharp in their chest. The words kept slipping out, broken, incoherent. “I don’t understand everything right now,” he admitted gently, “but that’s okay...you don’t need to make sense of it now. All you need to know is that I’m not going anywhere.” When they finally paused, even just to catch a breath, his hand found theirs—warm, steady and anchoring. “See? You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

—those with a grounding presence and heart, these people twon't rush you and instead what they'll do is simply talk to you and give you the time and space to talk without interruption. They’ll listen without pressing for an explanation—guiding you to breathe since they know best that...at this moment, what you need is reassurance and to take a well needed breather. Hey, they might use soft breathing cues, a few light touches, or gentle nods to make you feel heard and seen and that's okay because they understand that your words aren’t just words—they’re part of the release you needed.

- hq: SAWAMURA DAICHI, Koshi Sugawara, Azumane Asahi (timid but he would), Kageyama Tobio (awkward yet surpassingly sincere), Yamaguchi Tadashi, Komori Motoya, Akaashi Keiji, Tooru Oikawa, Iwaizumi Hajime, OSAMU MIYA, Kita Shinsuke. Eita Semi

- bllk: Isagi Yoichi, MIKAGE REO, Chigiri Hyoma, Kurona Ranze , Yukimiya Yuu, Gagamaru Gin.

ᛪ ͜ 　ʾʾ 𓏵 THE FIRM INTEREUPTERS

—they'll gently stop you when they see you spiraling to help you focus. To further explain what they'll do is noticing the moment when it seems like your thoughts are spiraling too fast, and instead of letting the panic drag on even longer, they’ll step in. Not with force, but with firm words that feel safe, at least safe for you. They’ll also encourage you to slow down by guiding your breathing or giving a phrase to repeat, Right now it’s not about silencing you but more of giving you a stable point to hold onto till the moment passes.

Their rambling picked up speed, words tripping over each other. He frowned slightly, not out of frustration but out of concern. “Hey—hey...hey, listen—slow down for me,” he said firmly, reaching up to lightly tap their shoulder. His tone wasn’t harsh, but it cut through the noise just enough to break their spiral. “Look at me.” His eyes held theirs, unwavering. “One word at a time. We’ll get through it together.” When they nodded shakily, he squeezed their hand, repeating quietly “One word. One breath. At one time.”

- hq: TETSURO KURO, Satori Tendou (shockingly enough I see it), MIYA ATSUMU, Kiyomi Sakusa, Futakuchi Kenji, Terushima Yuji, Haiba Lev

- bllk: ITOSHI RIN, Shoei Barou, Ikki Niko, Micheal Kaiser, Tabito Karasu, Otoya Eita, Jyubei Aryu

ᛪ ͜ 　ʾʾ　𓏵 THE DISTRACTING TACTIC

—they will see when panic makes you spiral, these ones seem to know that sometimes the best thing is to break the rhythm entirely. Yes you heard me...break it. Stupidly enough they risk it and they’ll throw in humor, playful banter, or unexpected antics—however not to dismiss your feelings, but instead to redirect your mind elsewhere. Their distractions can range from goofy jokes to absurd gestures, and they’ll always stay close enough to anchor you if the anxiety returns. How sweet...

The panic spilled out in frantic words, fast and uneven, until they were tripping over every thought. He reached out suddenly and held something up—a very and utterly ridiculous object, like his water bottle balanced on his head. “Hey, what do you think? does this look stylish on me?” he asked seriously. The rambling stuttered, confusion cutting through the storm. “…W-what?” “Now there you are,” he said, smile small but relieved. “You’re listening again!” His hand brushed theirs as he set the bottle down. “Hey...you don’t need to explain anything right now. Just…please stay here with me and know that’s enough.”

- hq: HINATA SHOYO, Morisuke Yaku, NISHINOYA YUU, Inuoka Sō, RYUNOSUKE TANAKA, KOTARU BOKUTO, TSUTOMU GOSHIKI

- bllk: BACHIRA MEGURU, Kunigami Rensuke (I think T T), Jingo Raichi, Hiori Yo, Nijiro Nanase, Zantetsu Tsurugi, Bunny Iglesias

ᛪ ͜ 　ʾʾ　𓏵　THE SILENT ANCHORS

—To put it simply...these ones won’t speak much, but their presence will speak volumes. Hey I mean...they won’t try to talk over you or rush you or anything and instead, they’ll stay quietly beside you, their calm presence anchoring you like gravity. Their touch might be minimal, perhaps they're not the affectionate type. Its either just a simple brush of the hand or they might just sit with you in silence. Either way it works, and they trust and believe that just being there for you—steadily and without judgment...is enough.

The rambling didn’t stop, words spilling fast and broken. But he didn’t say a word. He simply sat down beside them, close enough for his shoulder to brush theirs, and slid his pinky finger around theirs in a quiet tether. When they finally looked up, confused by his silence, his expression was steady, calm. “You’re not alone,” he said softly. “I’ll stay until it passes.” And he did. There was no rush nor any judgment—just presence. Just him.

- hq: SUNA RINTAROU, Kita Shinsuke, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Michinari Akagi, TSUKISHIMA KEI, Kozume Kenma. KENJIRO SHIRABU

- bllk: NAGI SEISHIRO, Itoshi Rin (begrudgingly?), ITOSHI SAE, KIYORA JIN, Kunigami Rensuke (after wildcard..)

Likes and reblogs are highly appreciated <33

[vvnothinspcial]

"something happens and I'm head over heels.."

starring characters: oikawa tooru, miya atsumu, kageyama tobio, ushijima wakatoshi..

disclaimers: nothing but fluff, maybe grammar and some spelling mistakes, probably the misuse of oxford commas and the em dashes? I'm still learning. tropes: childhood best friend (oikawa tooru), next door neighbor (miya atsumu), classmate (kageyama tobio), vb manager (ushijima wakatoshi).

　̥̈◟ ͜　　 𓎟𝄄𓎟　　OIKAWA TOORU

The sun had dipped low, spilling streaks of orange and violet across the horizon as Oikawa walked side by side with them, grocery bag swinging lazily in his hand. The cicadas were loud, and the summer air was thick, but somehow, it didn’t feel suffocating. Not with them there.

It was evenings like this that Oikawa secretly cherished. He might not look like the type to admit it—too prideful, too wrapped up in his own image...

But he loved them.

“Honestly, Tooru, you bought too many snacks again,” they said, glancing at the bag. “You’re supposed to be a top athlete, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be eating… I don’t know, actual food?”

Oikawa laughed, tilting his head toward them with that trademark grin he wore like armor. “Snacks are food. Besides, my childhood friend should know by now that I’m fueled by sugar and charm.”

They rolled their eyes and looked ahead, the corner of their mouth twitching like they were holding back a smile. The gesture made something warm stir in his chest—something familiar, something he’d buried under layers of showmanship and volleyball drills.

A breeze pushed through, sudden and playful, and Oikawa’s carefully styled hair whipped across his forehead, sticking out in ridiculous angles.

He cursed softly, running his fingers through it, but before he could fix it, their hand reached up instead.

“Hold still,” they said, stepping closer. Their fingertips brushed against his temple as they smoothed down a stubborn strand.

It was nothing, barely even two seconds.

It was just an unconscious kindness.

Yet Oikawa’s world narrowed, time stuttering like it always did in the rarest and most crucial moments of a match.

He froze, staring at them, unable to breathe properly with their hand so close on him. It's funny, their touch wasn’t grand or deliberate, but it lodged itself under his skin all the same.

“There,” they said, withdrawing their hand as if the contact meant nothing. They kept walking. “You know you're pretty hopeless without me.”

He blinked, snapping back into motion with a laugh that came out a little too high-pitched. “Hopelessly handsome? Hopelessly charming? Hopelessly charismatic? maybe.”

They snorted, unconvinced, and continued down the path.

But Oikawa stayed behind for a beat, eyes tracing the faint outline of their profile against the bleeding colors of the sky. His heart was still hammering, loud enough that he worried they might hear it if they got too close.

Why now? Why from something so simple? He’d always been good at keeping people at a distance, even when he was surrounded by admirers and his fangirls. Volleyball was his world, and everyone knew it. That was the center of his attention.

Yet here he was, undone by the way they smoothed down his hair like it was the most natural thing in the world.

When he finally caught up, they gave him a quizzical look. “You’re quiet all of a sudden. Did the snacks knock you out already hm?”

Oikawa grinned, masking the chaos in his chest. “No, I'm just thinking about how lucky I am to have met someone like you.”

They laughed at that, shaking their head. But Oikawa knew he wasn’t joking.

Oh no no no...

not this time.

Because something had happened today, something small and fleeting. And now, Oikawa Tooru had pieced up the pieces...

He was head over heels, whether he liked it or not.

　̥̈◟ ͜　　 𓎟𝄄𓎟　　MIYA ATSUMU

The rain had been falling in thin, steady sheets since practice ended, soaking the pavement until the streetlights shimmered on the slick surface.

Miya Atsumu jogged toward the school gates, cursing under his breath when he realized—again—

....that he’d left his jacket at home.

His jersey clung to his shoulders, damp and cold.

“Seriously?” a voice called, familiar and sharp with exasperation.

He glanced up to see them waiting just outside the gate, umbrella in hand. Their brows knit together as they took him in, hair plastered against his forehead, shirt clinging uncomfortably.

“You’re hopeless,” they said, stepping closer and shoving the umbrella over his head before he could protest. “Do you ever think ahead 'tsumu...?”

Atsumu smirked, trying to shake off the embarrassment prickling at his neck. “Course I do. I thought ‘bout how lucky I’d be if yer here waitin’ with an umbrella.”

They rolled their eyes so hard he almost laughed. “Okay now don’t flatter yourself.”

Still, they didn’t pull the umbrella away. Their shoulder brushed his as they angled it to cover him more than themselves, rain dripping off the edge in soft patters. The warmth of their presence cut through the chill seeping into his skin, and for once, Atsumu didn’t feel like filling the silence with jokes.

Then, without warning, they sighed and tugged the scarf from around their neck. It was a deep maroon, soft wool that still held their body heat. Before he could blink, they looped it loosely around his neck.

“You’ll catch a cold like this,” they muttered, fussing with the ends to make sure it sat right. “You’re always so reckless 'tsumu I swear....”

Atsumu froze. His mouth worked soundlessly for a second, all the snappy retorts he usually had slipping out of reach. The scarf was warm—their warmth, their scent...clinging to him in a way that felt far more intimate than it should have. His chest burned hotter than any sprint he’d run in practice, and he swallowed hard, afraid they’d notice the sudden flush creeping across his cheeks.

“…Oi,” he managed, voice lower than usual. “d'ya really think I’d look good in maroon?”

They gave him a deadpan stare, lips twitching. “You’d look good in anything if you stopped running around like a soaked golden retriever....”

He laughed—

too loud and too fast, trying to mask the thunder in his ribcage. The sound of their words were so simple and so them like, it tangled in his head like a song he couldn’t exactly shake off. He’d been on the receiving end of plenty of cheers and plenty of attention. But this?

This small gesture of care, unthinking and so casual had knocked the air right out of him.

As they walked home together, he tugged the scarf higher around his chin, hiding a smile he couldn’t suppress any longer.

“Something wrong?” they asked, glancing at him.

“Nah,” he said quickly, flashing a grin. “Just thinkin’ maybe I’ll forget my jacket more often now. What'd ya think?”

They simply let out an exasperated groaned, nudging him with their elbow, but Atsumu barely noticed.

His world had shifted in a single moment.

He was enraptured by them.

and he himself knew—

there was no coming back.

　̥̈◟ ͜　　 𓎟𝄄𓎟　　KAGEYAMA TOBIO

The gym was nearly empty. All was left was the squeak of sneakers and the echo of volleyballs long since faded.

Outside, the late-winter air pressed against the windows, a dull chill creeping in through the cracks.

There, Kageyama sat on the bleachers, unwrapping a convenience store sandwich, shoulders hunched against the cold.

“You’ll catch a cold if you keep eating that junk every day you know?”

He blinked, his head snapping up. They were standing at the base of the bleachers, clutching a small thermos in their hands.

A classmate—

Someone he always seemed to run into after practice when they stayed behind for their own reasons. They were not a teammate or a manager, they weren't even part of the volleyball world at all, the world that swallowed him whole. They were just…them.

Kageyama frowned, he was halfway defensive with his response. “It’s food. It’s fine.”

“Well...fine doesn’t always mean good.” They climbed the steps, settling beside him like it was the most natural thing. Without waiting for permission, they pressed the thermos into his hands. “Here. Luckily I made extra.” Whether that was a lie or not, he was unsure.

He froze, staring down at the container that was now in his hands. The steam curled faintly from the lid, carrying the savory smell of miso and vegetables. The flavor seeping out and it smelled fairly good.

For a long moment, all he could do was stare and enjoy the warmth in his hand during this winter.

“…You made this?”

“Yes?” they said flatly, amused by his suspicion. “C'mon...It’s not poisoned, Kageyama-san. Just drink it. I promise it'll be worth it..!” the last part was stated in a sing song tone.

Awkwardly enough, he unscrewed the lid and took a cautious sip. Heat spread across his tongue, rich and comforting, and he nearly startled at how good it was. His grip tightened around the thermos. “It’s…very warm.”

They raised an eyebrow. “Well that’s what soup is supposed to be no?”

He ducked his head, ears burning red. “I mean—uh—it’s good.”

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the muffled hum of the heater trying—

and failing...to warm the gym.

They sat shoulder to shoulder, close enough for Kageyama to catch the faint scent of their soap, something clean and familiar. He drank slowly, not because he was cautious anymore, but because he wanted to make the moment last.

No one had ever handed him something like this without expecting anything in return. His teammates cheered for him, his coaches pushed him, but this?

This was different.

Someone worrying if he was eating enough, if he was keeping himself warm. It sent a strange ache through his chest, one he couldn’t quite name.

“Thanks,” he muttered finally, voice low. “For… this.”

They leaned back on their hands, gazing out across the empty court. “Well you work hard enough. After all someone’s got to make sure you don’t collapse one day...and I don't mind being that person.”

The words lodged in his throat like a perfect toss he wasn’t ready for. He gripped the thermos tighter, staring at the court that had always felt like home—and realizing that maybe...

just maybe,

they could feel like home too.

He didn’t know how to say it. He probably never would. But as he sat there with soup warming his hands and their presence warming something deeper, Kageyama knew.

Something had happened, small and unremarkable to anyone else. But not to him.

To him, it was everything.

He was smitten, and there was no stopping it.

　̥̈◟ ͜　　 𓎟𝄄𓎟 USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

The school grounds were alive with spring.

Cherry blossoms drifted lazily on the breeze, scattering across the wide paths and clinging to shoes and uniforms alike.

Ushijima Wakatoshi—walked at his usual steady pace, his gym bag slung over one shoulder with his manager or well...the volleyball team's manager trailing just behind him.

“You walk too fast,” they complained lightly, quickening their stride to match his slightly panting at the speed they had to walk to match his pace.

“I walk at a normal speed?” Ushijima replied without looking back, tone even as always.

They let out a small laugh, shaking their head. “Right....normal for someone with legs twice as long as mine..sure”

He didn’t answer, because in his mind, it wasn’t an argument—

It was simply fact. He was used to their small remarks, the way they filled the silence around him with little pieces of color.

The breeze shifted, carrying more petals across the stone path. Ushijima’s focus was forward, on the gym looming in the distance, when the ground beneath him dipped unevenly.

His step faltered—just slightly, but enough for him to feel the jolt in his balance.

Before he could right himself, their hand reached out instinctively, fingers curling around his wrist, steadying him.

“Careful,” they said softly, almost without thought.

Ushijima looked down at the hand on his wrist. Their grip wasn’t firm, not strong enough to truly keep him upright if he’d fallen, but that didn’t matter.

The contact, the easy, unhesitating gesture, struck him with a force far greater than the stumble itself.

“I am not usually careless,” he said, voice quieter than usual.

“I know,” they replied, smiling faintly as they released him. “That’s why it sorta surprised me.”

He didn’t move for a moment, watching as their hand fell back to their side. The absence of their touch lingered, ghostlike, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he wished they hadn’t let go so soon.

They stepped ahead, brushing petals from their shoulder. “Come on, or we’ll be late.”

Ushijima followed, but something had shifted inside him. He’d been admired before, praised even for his strength, his skill, his reliability.

Yet this small, unthinking gesture of theirs, reaching for him in that fleeting second, had unsettled him more than any compliment or cheer ever could.

As they walked, he glanced down at his wrist where their fingers had been, his mind repeating the moment with startling clarity.

“Thank you,” he said simply, after a long silence.

They blinked, glancing back. “For what?”

“For steadying me.”

They laughed softly, brushing it off. “It’s nothing, Ushijima. Really.”

But to him, it wasn’t nothing.

God...It was everything.

The cherry blossoms swirled around them, the path ahead bright with spring sunlight. Ushijima’s steps matched theirs now, slower, more deliberate. And though his expression remained unchanged, his chest felt unsteady in a way he had never experienced before.

Something had happened, something so so small, so simple.

Yet in that moment, Ushijima Wakatoshi knew—

He was simply and completely infatuated with them.

reblogs are highly appreciated !!

authors final note: if you get the reference from the top congrats hehe! I'm thinking of making 3 other versions of this for the other fandoms I'm in. Anyways hope you enjoy!! (why's this not posting pls post..sighs ITS NOT APPEARING ON THE TAGS - updated at 6.46 pm)

. I am accepting reqs (hc, drabbles etc) for haikyuu, bllk, tokyo revengers sakamoto days.

[showhay]

no thoughts, just her

— tobio forgets his jersey number but remembers the exact time you first sneezed in front of him.

ts!kageyama tobio x f!reader

c: fluff!!

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

kageyama tobio is the kind of man who could probably forget his own shoe size if volleyball didn’t require footwear. which is fine. understandable. tragic, even—because he’s a professional athlete, his body is the business, and yet his brain… sometimes takes detours.

like the time during practice when he blankly stared at the back of his own jersey as if someone had written quantum physics instead of a simple number. his teammates swore they saw smoke leaving his ears.

“kageyama,” ushijima asked, patient like a saint. “are you… lost?”

and kageyama, with that blunt honesty of his, replied, “i don’t know what number i am.”

silence. echoing silence. the kind of silence that could age wine.

“your jersey,” hoshiumi said carefully, as though speaking to a feral animal. “has the number. right there. on your back. it’s been the same for so long, kageyama.”

“oh,” he muttered. “right. i forgot.”

the entire adlers team collectively had to sit down, not because the revelation was earth-shattering, but because they could not comprehend how a setter of his caliber could erase his own numerical existence.

but then. oh, then.

someone (a random guy named berto) made the mistake of asking why—if his memory was apparently this hole-ridden—he somehow, without fail, could recall your birthday down to the exact minute.

and kageyama, red in the face, ears blazing like twin traffic lights, shouted so loudly the rafters shook:

“BECAUSE IT MATTERS MORE!!”

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

and that, dear reader, is when everyone realized: kageyama’s brain runs exclusively on two modes—volleyball and you.

and unfortunately for volleyball, it had to share space with the gravitational pull that is you, his girlfriend, his universe, the reason he knows the exact second you once tripped on a crack in the sidewalk two years ago (“2:47 pm, april 16th,” he recites without blinking, as if the event is carved into marble).

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

kageyama doesn’t just love you. he lives you. eats, sleeps, breathes you.

example:

you once offhandedly mentioned you liked the smell of strawberries. normal boyfriend move would be to buy you strawberries.

kageyama’s next move?

he bought enough strawberries to make the kitchen look like a crime scene. then panicked because “what if she doesn’t like them that much” and ended up googling “can strawberries expire faster if i stare at them” at 2 a.m.

another time, you told him you liked how warm his hands were.

and suddenly, every chance he gets, he’s grabbing your hand, clutching it like he’s trying to convince fate itself that you’ll never let go. even during games. ushijima once had to physically pry him off your wrist before a match because, in kageyama’s words, “her hands get cold if i’m not holding them. what if she dies?”

the dramatics are unparalleled.

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

the obsession devotion reaches its peak whenever your name comes up around the team.

someone starts, “so, y/n—”

kageyama who’s whipping his head around so fast doctors would warn about spinal damage “what about her? what did you say? do you like her? YOU CAN’T LIKE HER. SHE’S MINE.”

ushijima, calmly sipping water, “i said she made good cookies.”

kageyama blinks, “oh. yeah. she does. really good. amazing. the best. she’s the best. you’re not allowed to have any.”

hoshiumi snickers, hand covering his mouth, “she literally gave me some yesterday.”

kageyama, scandalized, gripping the floor like it betrayed him, “WHAT—”

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

and yet, despite being a human disaster in love’s clothing, he is also the sweetest kind of devoted.

he sets reminders for every tiny detail you’ve ever given him:

your favorite pen ink color (0.5 mm, black, smooth tip, no exceptions).

the exact shade of sweater you once said made you feel “like a cinnamon bun” (he ordered three in bulk).

the minute you first laughed at one of his lame volleyball analogies (“10:36 am, august 3rd. it was about pancakes. she laughed at pancakes. it was beautiful”).

he doesn’t forget these things because they matter. to him, you are a library of holy scripture and he’s memorized every verse.

and when you ask him why he can’t remember his own jersey number but can rattle off the date and time you first sneezed in front of him, he simply answers—face serious, eyes sharp, heart loud:

“jerseys change. numbers change. but you—” he pauses, as if words aren’t enough. “you don’t. and i don’t want to forget anything about you. ever.”

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

you laugh, because it’s so him. clumsy, blunt, desperate, the kind of love that’s too big for his chest.

“tobio,” you tease, ruffling his hair, “you sound like a stalker.”

he frowns. “no. stalkers don’t care about birthdays.”

and honestly? fair point.

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

he may forget his jersey. his shoe size. his locker combination.

but he’ll never, ever forget you.

to him, you’re the game. the victory. the only scoreboard that matters.

and if he has to scream it from the rooftops until the world finally gets it, he will:

“BECAUSE IT MATTERS MORE!!”

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

a: HAHA! I’M ALIVE, PRETTY PEOPLE!

<taglist>

@lsirria @cvntyandfasionable @the-bloopsters @trulyylee @highandalive @nelinkythoughts @kukikoooo @sleepykeijiii @n-o-b-o-d-y123 @averys-place @reverd-ck @sxnnee @anzuuhoshi @evilari111 @rabbitcola @midnights-with-him

© showhay — don’t copy nor translate without my permission. i do not own any of the photos that i have used. credits to all the rightful owners. (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

iloveu

[vvnothinspcial]

shiro's rulebook .ᐟ

avoid interacting if you . . .

𓏵 judge my writing style harshly. i’m still learning, english isn’t my first language, and i honestly i just write for fun. constructive criticism is okay, hate is not.

𓏵 don’t respect boundaries. i’m a minor (16), so please keep interactions respectful and appropriate.

𓏵 expect nsfw content. most, if not all, of my works will stay sfw.

𓏵 dislike x readers, ocs, or self-indulgent writing. i write what i enjoy and what makes me happy.

𓏵 expect constant updates. i’m multi-fandom, a student, and often go on very long hiatus due to school or lack of motivation on what to write.

i’d still love to make friends and interact with people so...

[vvnothinspcial]

"math and a confession...?" - starring kageyama tobio

It all started from there.

That one moment back in middle school.

Back in Kitagawa Daiichi.

You were just an ordinary girl then, but even you had heard the rumours about the infamous “King of the Court” Kageyama Tobio.

They said he was tyrannical, barking orders like a commander, scowling at anyone who failed to hit his sets perfectly, and speaking harsh words whenever mistakes were made. His presence alone seemed to carry a warning.

You were familiar with the rumours, but somehow…you still wanted to see it for yourself. Back then, you must have been either ridiculously naive or stupidly brave.

The gym smelled like dust and worn sneakers, a scent that still clung to you when you remembered it now.

You were small then, a year younger, clutching a worn textbook to your chest like armor. The chatter of teammates filled the space, the rhythmic thud of volleyballs bouncing in the background. And there he was at the center front, commanding the court with sharp, precise movements, his scowl fixed as he barked instructions at his team.

When practice slowed for a break and everyone moved toward the water cooler, you stepped forward. Your shoes squeaked softly on the polished floor.

He looked up at you, his eyebrows knitted and his expression hard. “Who’re you?” he asked, voice clipped with that same harsh tone he had with everyone.

You didn’t answer directly. Instead, you crossed your arms, tilting your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “If you keep going any longer, you’re going to break,” you said matter of factly.

His scowl faltered for the barest second before returning.

And that

Right there....was where it all began.

From that moment on, you found yourself slipping into his orbit. You were the one who handed him water when he left practice, the one who matched his pace on the walk home when the streets outside felt too loud. When others tossed gossip back and forth like a volleyball, “king” this, “cold” that....you didn’t care. Instead you looked and ventured deeper.

You noticed the small things in him, the way his shoelaces were always knotted incorrectly, the way he retoured his bandage absentmindedly when he was nervous because he hated the tape around his fingers back in second years whenever he got an injury (and always complained about it), the way he flared up with irritation whenever he wanted to hide how much he cared deeply.

Those things weren’t rumours, they were pieces of him no one bothered to look for.

Except you.

A soft quiet settles over the library as you finish telling the memory aloud. Kageyama sits across from you, hands folded over his notebook, eyes fixed on yours. He doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t need to.

You snap out of your daydream with a small sigh, stretching your fingers in preparation for the long overdue study session that had been delayed because of his endless hours of practice.

“Okay,” you say, smiling warmly, licking your lips as if trying to get your a-game on.

“So since exams are coming up...what exactly do you need help with?”

“Math…” he mumbles, almost sheepishly. His voice is low, unfamiliar in its hesitation. Usually it's japanese literature but you assumed that someone like Yachi or Tsukishima have helped him out with those.

You laugh softly. “Math, huh? Of course. That’s fine, let’s get to work.”

.

..

...

It’s been approximately thirty minutes.

And you’ve been patiently explaining the graph of the quadratic equation, the shape of a parabola, and what the maximum point means, yet he still hasn’t grasped it.

“It’s not that hard, I swear! Tobioo…” you whine, leaning your forehead onto your folded arms on the table. “I just… want you to get it already.”

He doesn’t look up. His pencil scratches in the margin as he stares at the paper, expression blank.

“Do you even listen to me?” you tease softly, lifting your head to glance at him.

“I’m listening,” he mutters without conviction. “It just… doesn’t click.”

You pout dramatically, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I’ll make it so simple I'm sure even SHOYO could understand it.”

He finally looks up, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. “You’re going to explain math using volleyball terms again, aren’t you?”

You grin mischievously. “if it's what makes you get it THEN YES..”

You straighten yourself from your slouched position, leaning closer so your face is just inches from his. “Okay, TOBIO… look here.”

His eyes snap to you, startled. “What—”

“Shush, shut up!?” you interrupt with a smirk. “Just listen.”

You grab a clean sheet of paper and quickly draw an exaggerated but very poor and weird volleyball court, the net in bold lines, a spiker mid-jump, and a curving arc above the net.

"Your drawing sucks...is that me? And is that—"

"THE DRAWINGS NOT THE ISSUE HERE OKAY—" you coughed out and calmed down...taking a deep breath before being in that zone that kageyama is familiar with. You were determined to make sure he could get this.

“Think of a quadratic like one of your perfect quick sets to Hinata,” you begin. “When you set the ball, it arcs through the air in a smooth curve, that curve is just like the shape of a parabola in math. The path the ball takes is the graph of the equation, and the court floor is the x-axis. Where the ball lands—the two spots where the arc meets the floor are like the roots of the equation. The highest point of the set, where the ball is at its peak and Hinata jumps to spike it, is called the vertex, and in math that’s the maximum point of a parabola!!”

Kageyama narrows his eyes, listening intently.

“How steep or flat your set arc is depends on the ‘a’ value in the quadratic," you continue while flicking your pen on the paper countlessly to each part of the diagram that matters in this explaination. "—a quick set has a sharper, tighter arc, while a slower outside set has a wider, gentler curve. So basically, understanding quadratics is like understanding how to control a perfect set knowing where the peak in this case the highest point the spiker can hit should be, where the ball will land on the court, and how steep the arc is so your spiker can dominate.”

For the first time, his expression softens. His eyes flicker with realization, and a faint smirk plays at his lips. “That… actually makes sense.”

"You're a weird tutor.."

"Hey IT HELPS,"

he laughed. A laugh that was so rare for others to hear but to you...it's always been normal and you never took any of these soft moments for granted.

“I guess I’m your math coach now,” you tease, leaning back and stretching your arms. “Don’t forget it or else itll be such a pain to explain to you again..”

The quiet of the library returns. You can hear the faint tapping of rain against the window outside. Tobio leans back in his chair, his eyes on your notes, but there’s something softer in his expression now....

An openness that only you ever get to see.

You take a breath and close your notebook. “We should call it a night soon. It’s getting late.”

He nods slowly, gathering his things. “Yeah.”

Once both of you finished packing, you both walked out, side by side towards the exit, the muffled sound of your footsteps blending with the soft patter of rain. The world outside feels still, as if the moment itself is stretching out, holding you both there.

Before either of you speak again, you hesitate. There’s a quiet weight in the air, one that makes your chest feel heavy. You’ve been holding the question for a while. Since you both enrolled in karasuno...You glance at him, and then finally brought up the courage to ask him...

“What are we....Tobio?”

The question hangs between you, simple yet it was loaded. He stops walking, turning his head toward your direction. For the first time, the usual scowl he had was gone...it had no sharpness to it...it was just gone, but then again with you there was never a scowl on his face...but right at this moment was just that rare stillness in the atmosphere, like he’s searching for the right equation, the right answer to such a simple yet complicated question.

“We’re…” he starts, then pauses. His eyes don’t leave yours but then he averted, his face flustered, his ears red and his lips touched in embarrassment. “I don't usually like metaphors like you but we’re like a set and spike. The perfect combination. You know the arc, you know the landing point, and you know exactly where the power comes from.....”

He takes a step closer. His voice drops softer. “We’re the ones who keep showing up for each other. You're always there for me whenever and whereever and I hope that it goes to same way of me to you because I want to be with you, always. That’s what we are.”

You swallow, heart skipping, and he closes the distance between you until there’s barely any space left. His hand brushes yours, fingers curling gently around yours.

“If you want a direct answer?” he murmurs. “We’re together....that is if you want to be mine..”

Before you even had time to respond he continued....

"I'm asking you..can I court you? Can I be your special person...I don't think I can handle seeing that person as someone else..."

What a dream come true, and with that, the two first years barely noticed the rain falling and hitting harder outside...

A smile spreads across your face, warm and quiet, the knot in your chest tightened and if anything it did a flip...it was as if the weight in your chest just lifted. “Yeah,” you whisper. “We’re together. I'll be yours Tobio...”

...

How could they?

When all they could focus on was eachother.

bonus:

(I tried!)

headers and dividers are not mine I do not claim.

my first post !! 🥹

reblogs are highly appreciated

mistakes are not edited...yet..

[enchanthings]

could I possibly request black and grey themed dividers? something dark, kind of misty maybe? Just kinda of late night cemetery vibe if that's alright!

hi! here are some dividers with those vibes. I've also made them to be light & dark mode friendly!

◦˚~ DARK CEMETERY DIVIDERS ~˚◦

Info: these were all drawn & made by me. please reblog/like if use!

[beckwrth]

　　　　　 simplyplural　messy　layouts

　　　　　credits　required　if　reposting

　　𓏼𝄄†̥̈ ༙༙　　 ͜ །　　name

　　 ͜͝ 𓐇 ͡　⠀࣪⠀˖　　prn　╱　prn

　　་།࣭ ࣭ ͜　　𓄧　　txtxtxtxtxtxt

　　𓏶　　𓎟 ͏͡⏝　　txtxtxtxtxtxt

　　txtxtxtxtxtxt　　𝒢　　𓏽　　♪۪۪

　　 ┈֯　　txtxtxtxtxt　　◞།| ͜͝ | ͜͝ |།ིྀ ͝

　　✚ ͝ །　　 ◟　　name　

　　𓏫˚｡　　།　　𓏴　　prn　╱　prn

　　　̥̈◟ ͜　　 𓎟𝄄𓎟　　txtxtxtxtxtxt

　　 ᛪ ͜ 　　ʾʾ　　𓏵　　txtxtxtxtxtxt

　　𓍚ᚐ ݂۫𓏼　　txtxtxt　　⁺　　txtxtxt

　 　| ͜͝ ̫ 𓐆　　┈֯　　txtxtxtxt　　▬̸⃨▬̸⃨