INACTIVE
♤ MASTERLIST; haikyuu, boku no hero academia, and attack on titan.
♤ WHATS GOING ON?; I’m not really into this acc anymore lol
filter ‘off work 🦈’ to not see my dumb posts
song of the day: the way you do ♤ crying city
INACTIVE
♤ MASTERLIST; haikyuu, boku no hero academia, and attack on titan.
♤ WHATS GOING ON?; I’m not really into this acc anymore lol
filter ‘off work 🦈’ to not see my dumb posts
song of the day: the way you do ♤ crying city
a/n: yall i’m out of it, i won’t remember this in the morning ✌️
matsukawa issei x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned) 367 wc
“Remember when you had a huge crush on me?”
Startled by his sudden words, the milk you’d just drank was spilling past your lips as you choked. “What?” You’d asked, a near shout, while you wiped at your chin. “Why are you bringing that up?”
Matsukawa shrugs, and a sense of pride fills him at your flustered state. “It just came to my mind just now.” A scoff elicits from you and he doesn’t hide the laugh that bubbles from his chest. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”
“Right, okay.” He picks up on the obvious sarcasm in your voice, following it with a roll of your eyes when he faces you with his palm in hand. “What, are you trying to tell me something?”
“Other than the fact I’ve liked you for the longest time?” You shake your head, stabbing your fork into the empty styrofoam box in front of you. “I’m serious.”
“And I’m done with this conversation and you.”
I only log into this account to change my song of the day
Nothing but love for the people in the fandoms (hsmtmts + sandlot) I was in two years ago still enjoying my stuff and being my main source of notes, y’all real ones fr
I gotta stop saying “fuck it we ball” after I go against company policy at work.
end of summer cleaning, say goodbye to any smau/text posts i have EVER made. save for the requested ones. they are getting demolished (deleted) i hate those things with a passion and get annoyed whenever i see someone has liked and/or reblogged them.
Hey guys how are we doing this fine night
I graduate in like 15 mins lmao
Oikawa's used to a lot of things. Cheering fans, confessions, smiling for pictures. He's used to his teams' antagonizing and him giving it right back to them. He's used to everyone relying on him and being able to live up to, no, exceed his role. He's used to Iwaizumi's aim and accuracy even when it's directed at the back of his head. But what he's not used to
Is you.
You, a desk neighbor who's indifferent to his presence. You're not malicious or judgmental but you're not friendly or trying to get his attention, either. You tolerate the hoards of other students who swarm the class for him and you tolerate it better than his teammates.
He's not used that.
When you're paired up as partners for classwork--much to the protest and complaints of others--he's kind of... relieved. He doesn't feel like there's a bias he has to overcome as he talks to you and you're flexible with his schedule.
He's not used to that, either.
And when he loses track of time, staying on his own after the team leaves...he's definitely not used to the way you greet him.
"You know...if you want extra time to practice, you can just let me know."
His shoes squeak with the surprise of his stop; you're not mad when he turns to you. "I missed the meeting time, didn't I?"
You nod, letting yourself into the gym and leaving your shoes by the door to quietly pad across the floor. He watches you settle in against the wall taking out books and getting to work. You look up in the silence in which he hasn't moved. "What?"
A frown touches his features. "What are you doing?"
"Working on the project?" You echo his confusion. "Aren't you going to keep practicing?"
Okay, he's definitely not used to that.
The moment it takes him to respond stretches inside of himself, your words soothing a tension that's been building up.
It's a tension from pressure to do his best, to be the best, better than all these other prodigies all while his best friend is telling him he's overdoing it.
But the way you're looking at him...he feels affirmed. Like he's right where he should be and you're not trying to change him.
Acceptance.
He feels a weight off his shoulders when you look back down, leaving him to do what he's going to do. To be who he's going to be. It makes his heart flutter in a way he won't acknowledge.
Spinning the ball in his hands he gives himself a toss, jumps, and launches the ball into a perfect service ace.
He's satisfied for now so he joins you on the floor, working on the project until he starts to get antsy.
"You can do more if you need to," you say supportively with a gesture to the court. He opens his mouth to make a cheeky comment. "No, Oikawa. I'm not looking to just see you play."
He laughs. An open-hearted, relaxed sound that he's not used to making. But he hops to his feet and serves until he feels good and then comes back. It goes back and forth like this for a little while until the work is finished.
You still haven't chided him for practicing so late.
As you pack up your bag he does something else he's not used to.
"Thank you."
You meet his gaze with a confused but easy smile. "For what? Meeting you here?"
He nods, fidgeting with a volleyball in his hands.
"Not many people make room for what's inside of you. Do they?" You sigh with a reassuring smile at his confusion. "I don't understand your passion or dedication to this" -you gesture to the court- "but you've clearly got something you're working towards. Is it anyone's place to judge you for that or try to sway you from it?"
He can tell it's a rhetorical question so he lets your words fill the space between you.
"Good luck with everything, Oikawa." You smile. "Thanks for your help on the project."
And you leave.
He's not used to interactions where someone doesn't want something from him. For the rest of the school year he sits next to you, exchanging respectful small talk. He almost tries to talk to you again, really talk, but there's a special feeling you planted in him and he's scared the weight of his future will crush it. So he just holds onto it.
At graduation he waves to you across the crowds of people, to hoards of people vying for a sliver of his attention, and you simply wave back.
He doesn't know where you go or what you do after that. Moving to Argentina eliminates the chances of casually crossing your path.
You're not at the forefront of his mind anymore, nestled somewhere deep in his subconscious, not because he doesn't want to think of you but because that's how life works. People grow up, grow apart.
He steps off the court at the end of the Olympic finals and gives a smile to the crowd, to fans, to the sports photographers. One of them lowers their camera and waves. He's hit with a wave of nostalgia and all these powerful things you made him feel so long ago.
He's still not used to you.
i started writing male readers because I became a male reader
i’m in love with him.
aone takanobu x gn reader (no pronouns mentioned) 312 words.
“I love you.”
Your head whips up to look at him, eyes wide from shock at his declaration said in the most monotone voice you’ve heard. “I’m sorry?”
Aone, with his cheeks blown red and hot to the touch, turns his head and averts his gaze. “I love you.” He repeats, fiddling with his hands.
“Oh.” You turn your head back to the papers in front of you.
tsukishima kei, 2.3k words, angst @hanayanetwork @hqlabels
“Tsukishima, you know how to fix these, right?”
He puts his phone face down on the table. His boss places a cardboard box on his desk, pushing off a pile of four stained, yellowed letters. Inside the box are black vertical bars stacked next to each other like piano keys. A few of them have rounded corners, others concave around the edges.
“What are these?”
“VHS tapes,” she says.
He plucks one out and runs a finger over the cassette. The holes on the outer shell have morphed into an irregular shape, its edges covered in a semi-transparent layer akin to dried-up glue. He turns it over. The label renders itself useless.
“Someone came in and said they salvaged this from a—”
“Fire,” he finishes. He takes a deep breath. A whiff of burned plastic piggybacks off of the cold office air.
“So you know how to restore them?”
Through its holes smaller than his cufflinks, he peeks at anything left for him to see. “I can try.”
That fic was a fluke and it shows.
a/n: so this is a really self-indulgent lil headcanon/ficlet since i’ve had so many struggles of wanting to be in love, but also being ace and feeling as if i don’t deserve that. so, if you fall into that spectrum with me, this one’s for you!
content warnings: reader is asexual. (in case that wasn’t clear) kita makes a joke about being able to ‘handle himself’. overall comfort that made me sob as i wrote this. 💜🖤🤍
Hello new folks who followed after I posted that Mattsun fic
i said “boy-kisser” in my mind as an insult to myself and blacked out and this was on my screen.
matsukawa Issei x male!reader (reader is called a guy but no pronouns are used) no major warnings, there’s an implication of the ick but it’s perceived as a joke.
“Can I kiss you?”
Matsukawa looks up in shock at your words, his phone nearly falling out of his hands when he’d loosen his grip. “I’m sorry?”
“Can I kiss you?” You repeat. You're standing more confidently now, though you aren’t sure where it came from, he only asked you to repeat yourself.
He looks to the side as if he’s waiting for someone else to answer for him, only turning back towards you when he noticed that everyone who was around him had found refuge behind a bush. How discreet.
Just seen aone for the first time since that illustration came out, I feel faint