♡

mark was livid.

why, for the love of god, does he find this childish, ridiculous, nonsensical game called minecraft so difficult?

to be fair, he wasn’t necessarily a gamer unlike his other members. sure, he had played video games before, but it wasn’t exactly a priority since he was too engrossed in his job. that is, until you came along.

you, the person who inevitably stole his heart, the person who he’d catch the stars and the moon for without question, was subsequently the biggest video game addict he had ever met.

when the two of you started dating, he noted that your favorite game was minecraft because it ‘relieved your stress’, as per your words (he knew minecraft existed prior to this day, he just thought it was a children’s game, so your words shocked him to some degree).

in order to become a good boyfriend, mark thought it was only right for him to indulge in your interests.

he had downloaded the game and played in survival mode (“it’s more fun that way!” you had said). four hours in and he can’t even properly design a house without a creeper blowing up his property constantly and zombies running around attacking him whenever he goes out at night. to add insult to injury, he got lost in the caves more than twice trying to scour for iron and whatnot, and lost his things in the process without hope of recovering them!

he hit the keyboard lightly in frustration and to your amusement. “it’s just a game, marky-poo.”

“this is so. .” he groaned.

“stupid?“ you chimed.

“yeah!” he exclaimed. “i’m sorry for saying this but this feels too tacky and difficult and— i just hate this.”

you giggled and attempted to sit on his lap, and then caressed his hair. “awww, it’s ok baby. maybe try playing in creative mode?”

he pouted, wrapped his arms around your waist and snuggled into your neck. “creative mode’s for kids.”

“the whole game’s for kids!”

mark let out a chuckle. “that’s true. but you know what’s for adults?”

you narrowed your eyes. “what?”

“kissing.” he joked and puckered his lips at you. you feigned disgust and jokingly pushed his face away. eventually, you gave in and peppered small kisses on to his face, and then finally giving a chaste one on his lips.

“i’m never playing minecraft again.”

“it’s ok, i love you even if you suck!”

tw / alcohol mentions & consumption

he never understood why broken hearts lead people to beer, to whiskey, to rum, or to anything that has an ounce of alcohol in it. alcohol makes us sick. the morning after an intense drinking session makes us feel even worse. akaashi keiji understood up to that point. the thing that is still curious to him is why people go back to the very thing that made them feel horrible.

“love makes us do stupid things” is a very famous quote he always came across when reading novels. keiji wondered, is love really that powerful to the point where we throw away all sense of logic out of the window? unless it ever happens to him, he believed losing one’s marbles is the most pathetic, worthless thing in the world.

but life was petty, it even turned him into a massive hypocrite as he did the stupidest thing he has ever done in his twenty-five years of living.

he wanted to smack himself to next week when he realized he was standing outside your door, tipsy as hell, drenched from the pouring rain, while holding a beer on one hand. with his body not listening to him, he knocked on your door.

your pitiful eyes followed with your soft murmur of his name was enough to ruin him.

“please come back to me.”

you sighed. “i can’t.”

he begged profusely. he was desperate, as you were the only thing he’s ever felt this strongly for. he made you know one more time: you’re his everything, and if you leave him alone, what more there is to him?

but unfortunately for him, you have to move on. you have to steer your life in a direction without keiji, so you closed the door and wished him well one last time. he cried out your name, only to receive no response.

he walked away from your house and blinked back his tears. he knew that no matter how much you push him away, he’ll keep coming back to you. the thing that is now clear to keiji is why people go back to the very thing that made them feel horrible.

it was love. and it’s because he’s pathetic, and he’ll stay that way.

maybe the alcohol will numb himself tonight.

-

if u can, buy me a coffee! it helps me sm <3

it was cathartic at first, letting it all out into song. that was until it wasn’t enough to give him peace. he thought about lyrics and the melodies, whether they were good enough or not. the sales, the reception, the opinions of anyone and everyone. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. his only form of relief became a chore, and it was more than exhausting.

“you’re dozing off again.” your gentle voice snapped him back to reality. “are you okay?”

“i’m fine.” he smiled weakly and tried to revert his attention back to the equipment in front of him.

you pursed your lips. “it sounds good, though.” you half-whispered. “i liked it.”

he was silent for a few moments, taking in your words into heart. you always say the same things — that you liked it, you’d listen to it everyday, it was a masterpiece, etcetera. your words were redundant, but alas, he knew they were honest. you never were one to lie, after all. chan closed his eyes and leaned back on his chair. the throbbing in his head simmered down, and for once, he was able to relax.

it was weird though, and scary, how your severe lack of adjectives can silence his mind, how your opinions seemed to be the only thing that matters to him once you open your mouth, drowning out the ever-looming pressure that was bound to him. he could get used to this, but deep in his heart, he’s aware that it’ll hurt like hell once things go awry.

was it love? maybe. maybe not. maybe it was too early to put labels on his ever-growing feelings for you. in fact, he doesn’t even want to think about it right now. all he knows is that he feels comfortable, thus he doesn’t want you gone.

“i’m tired.” chan said, breaking the quiet air between the two of you. “but i feel oddly at peace when i’m with you.”

you snickered in reply. “is this a confession?”

“dunno.”

his eyelids felt heavier by the second, his words slurring as if he were drunk. “i just want you near me.”

“i’m not going anywhere.” you assured.

his eyes were now closed, his mind now truly silent. your hands were loosely wrapped around his as you looped the song he played to you prior once more.

“this is a really good song, chan.” you whispered.

“i know.” he breathed out.

—

omg after so long im back! requests are open (for skz, haikyuu, cravity, & genshin) everyone! feel free to drop by my messages.

is it being obedient? is it following the rules? is it being kind? being soft? sensitive? or maybe, being conventionally attractive while possessing all of the traits mentioned before?

kozume kenma believed perfection doesn’t exist. he believed everything that people see or feel in this world has their own flaws. so why do people strive for perfection? why do they idolize those they deem as perfect when in fact it doesn’t exist? kenma knew the answer to this.

“we merely love things that fit our standards.” he’d say. “every little crack, every blemish, we tend to ignore it because it’s not perfect.”

he would sigh, close his eyes in disappointment and regret, and would speak again. “but it’s there. the fault’s there. it never leaves, that’s why perfection doesn’t exist.”

kuroo would frown at him and start to go against kenma’s stance. “perfection doesn’t have a fixed definition. what we deem perfect is most likely, if not always, subjective.”

“and?”

“you haven’t seen perfection yet.” kuroo would smile slyly. “and trust me, kenma, it’s very beautiful.”

kuroo’s right, kenma thought. he was right all along.

perfection is sleeping in until the afternoon. it’s playing games until your eyes would dry up. it’s giving each other eye drops and massages at dawn. perfection is lazy days, idle days, days where each other’s company would be enough. it’s ordering two boxes of pizza for dinner, food that could beat any home cooked meal just because he’s eating it with you.

perfection is the way your hair falls onto your face after tying it up in a bun. perfection is how your round glasses sit on top of your small nose. it’s the way your eyes twinkle whenever you’d talk about something you’re passionate about. it’s your little pimples on the side of your face, it’s your body rolls which he liked to squish every time he lays down on your lap. it’s your laugh which kenma swore could cure any disease on this planet.

perfection is the way you’d cry when he says something insensitive. it’s the way you’d cry when you offend him during your fights. it’s the way you always go back to him despite saying that you hate him and that you’d never want to see him again. perfection is you apologizing profusely and sincerely when you’re in the wrong. it’s you always forgiving him easily when he’s the one in the wrong. perfection is the way you would crash into his arms after yelling. perfection is the promise of forever the two of you made. perfection is fulfilling that promise, no matter what.

perfection is seeing you in that white dress, walking elegantly along the aisle, looking at him and only him. perfection is you giggling while wiping your tears with one hand, the other holding a bouquet of god-knows-what kind of flower. perfection is the way you spoke your vows, finally sealing the promise of forever. perfection is hearing you say “i do” and slipping the dainty ring into his thin finger. perfection is spending the rest of his life with you, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do the two of you part.

kenma barely stopped his tears as he remembered kuroo’s words. he’s indeed correct. perfection is beautiful, and he’s staring right into it, swearing to never leave it out of his sight and to love it even beyond eternity.

you are kenma’s perfection, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

why’d he breakup with her and how, would love to know

for newcomers, new readers, and to understand the context of anon’s ask, read this first.

hi! to be honest, i don’t know how to answer you because most of my fics are open for interpretation. and almost all of them start in the middle of everything (i guess i’m more comfortable with that lol). how bokuto broke up with y/n is up to you!

but if you really want an answer, i’ll give you a scenario from the top of my head as a reader. y/n and bokuto’s relationship just did not work. you know that there’s some relationships that seem to be going well, but then it hits an obstacle that the couple can’t get past? it’s something like that. people break up for various reasons: unfaithfulness, lack of communication, toxicity, jealousy, you name it.

but some relationships are just not meant to be, at least that’s what happened to bokuto and y/n.

i think that’s why bokuto broke up with y/n, and that’s why y/n just accepted the break up without any objection. they both knew it wasn’t working, and they have to stop before it gets worse.

however, there are a few couples who realize that they can’t live without their partners, and it takes a break up or any other form of separation for them to know. when bokuto broke up with y/n, they’re both absolutely miserable. i guess you could say it’s normal for every break up for the ones involved to grieve the relationship they shared for a certain amount of time, but like i said, it’s about realization. the pain was just so unbearable that it prompted them to go back into each other’s arms.

luckily though, the realization was two-sided. if only one of them wanted to get back with their partner, then it’s a sign that it’s not and it will never be meant to be, and that person would have to live with the pain and move on.

i hope this clears everything! like i said above, it’s mostly up to you. i’m just presenting my opinion from the outsider’s point of view and not as the author. please do tell me if you have other thoughts about it! i’d be happy to hear your own interpretations.

if people would ask you what’s wrong, you wouldn’t know what to say. the words “let’s break up” kept ringing in your ears. it all felt so. . fake, as if everything that happened these past few days were nothing more but a dream, or a nightmare, to be exact. the pain, his presence, and all of your memories with bokuto koutarou were still fresh.

you weren’t crying, though. but everybody at work noticed you were in a daze. you didn’t really want to talk about the break up with anyone, so you just kept quiet, brushed their questions off, and proceeded to do your work as usual.

you had to stop yourself from glancing at your phone every now and then. usually, he’d send you a cute message encouraging you to do your best at work with a picture of him wearing his jersey, smiling so adorably that it made your heart flutter. and then you’d reply, reminding him to stay safe and alert during practice for him to avoid any injuries. you sighed, trying to shake off the bulging worry you’re feeling at the back of your head. he’s going to be fine. he was the one who broke up with you, after all.

lunch came in, and you were not really in the mood to chomp on something. you looked around the office, staring blankly at your colleagues’ wet salads and cheap coffee. you stifled a chuckle, remembering the time you brought koutarou in for work and him telling you that the canteen in your office serves disgusting food. and he was right. ah, there goes my appetite, you said to yourself, realizing that your thoughts stepped in unwanted territory again. you made a mental note to get some food on your way home.

you couldn’t focus.

everything felt displaced and just downright wrong. you thought you were going to be okay, you were confident that everything’s going to be fine.

you couldn’t type on your keyboard because seeing your hands remind you of the times they were holding his. you can’t drink water because you were just going to worry that koutarou’s not hydrating himself much in practice. you couldn’t even blink, because everytime you close your eyes, he’s there. every movement, every single word, every little thing in your life reminds you of him, and to be frank, it was getting exhausting. it’s like he was always there. it’s as if he never left.

your feet dragged you to his house, which you once called your home. how many weeks has it been since you moved out? you weren’t keeping track. it probably hasn’t even been too long. dazed, you knocked on the door. “just a minute.” you heard him say.

his voice, it feels like forever since you’ve heard his voice. you felt tears well up your eyes, and for the first time since the two of you broke up, you were crying. you backed away, briskly walking away from his house. you were scared, confused, afraid. all of the emotions you were bottling up for weeks has poured out.

you were stopped in your tracks when you felt a firm hand grip your arm. the man turned you towards him, but you couldn’t see. your vision was blurry from the tears, but you knew who that grayish-white hair belonged to. you tried to speak, but no words were said. you just stood there. his hand on your arm, him looking at you, you sobbing as if there was no tomorrow.

“why’d you run off?” he said softly.

“i’m so. .” you tried to apologize, but the pang in your chest was too much for you to handle.

“i’m sorry, y/n.” he muttered, his voice shaking under his breath. “i miss you, so so much.” he added and hugged you, burying his face in your neck.

“koutarou. .” you managed to say as your tears stopped falling.

“i’m sorry for leaving you. please come back.”

you closed your eyes and hugged him back.

“just don’t ever leave me again.”

she was the most annoying person tsukishima kei had ever met.

he wasn’t really the type to pay attention to his surroundings, especially when the surroundings in question do not concern him in any way. to put into simpler words, if one isn’t yamaguchi, the karasuno volleyball team, or his studies, then expect that he isn’t going to give that something or someone a second glance.

oh but this girl pissed him off a lot.

she was relatively okay when not looking at kei’s persepctive. she’s very friendly, very smart, somewhat athletic, probably musically inclined, too. she’s also somehow conventionally attractive. she’s basically the stereotypical perfect japanese school girl that people see in anime. she’s a goddess and a sweetheart in every way.

and tsukishima kei hated that. he looked at her as if she were a challenge waiting to be dominated by him. he wanted to bring out the worst in this girl. so naturally, he spent every day teasing her, mocking her every move.

at first, she didn’t really seem to mind. she kept her composure and at times, even ignored his snarky comments, but all humans have their limits. her perfectly structured walls break down when kei opens his mouth, and for some reason, everyone in class just accepted their dynamic.

“you got a 98 in math? what a dumbass.” kei smirked as he waved his test paper in front of her face.

“fuck off, you french fry.” she rolled her eyes, trying not to look at the big red 99 on the top right of his paper.

“shut up, both of you. i got a 50. a fifty. i failed that fucking exam.” yamaguchi chimed in, attempting to end the conversation between the two that might lead into something worse.

“even your comebacks are lame, just like your damn grades. try harder, y/n. you’re better than that.”

“i’m not really in the mood, tsukishima.”

“aw, is it that time of the month?”

“can you please leave me alone?” she gritted her teeth, emphasizing the word ‘please’. her eyes looked desperate and well, frustrated. usually, that was the ideal look tsukishima wanted to see, but everyone is already staring at the both of you quietly, and he noticed her eyes well up with tears. he was about to say something when she suddenly bolted out of the room.

“you might’ve struck a nerve today, tsukki.” yamaguchi sighed and pat tsukishima’s shoulder. “just remember to apologize later.”

“whatever, yamaguchi.”

she didn’t come back for the next period. and the next. she was gone for the whole day. he didn’t try to think about it and instead tried to enjoy her absence. after all, that’s what he wanted since the beginning.

he walked towards the club room with yamaguchi when he noticed a figure sitting behind the gym, knees up covering their whole face, that person looked like they’re crying. he couldn’t care less if that was a normal day, but the person seemed so familiar that he had to go out and check.

he ran out of the club room without a word and bolted towards where the figure was hypothetically crying. lo and behold, his hunches were right.

“ah, there you are.” tsukishima tried to sound snarky and gave a smirk. he didn’t know if he pulled that off.

“shut up.”

“okay, jeez. so it is that time of the month.”

she didn’t reply.

he sighed and sat beside her, offering her his handkerchief without even looking at her direction or saying a word. she gazed at the handkerchief rather confused, but accepted it and muttered a small ‘thanks’. he tried to hide the blush forming on his face by clearing his throat.

the two of them sat in silence for a good few minutes until she suddenly spoke.

“are you high?”

he scoffed. “what the fuck, y/n. drugs are illegal.”

she squinted her eyes in suspicion. “then. . why are you acting so nice?”

“then why are you crying?”

she zipped her lips up immediately.

“none of your business.”

he sighed. “look, i’m sorry if i ever said something offensive.” he stood up and tried to leave as fast as he could because what he just said was enough reason for him to bury himself alive. “wait!” she stood up and held his arm, trying to stop himself from walking away.

“it’s not your fault.” she said in a rare, soft voice that tsukishima has never heard her use. “it’s well. . just a bad day in general. i just got fed up with everything and. . i’m sorry i lashed out on you.”

“oh. . kay.”

they stood in silence once more until he spoke in another attempt to get out of that awkward situation once more.

“i’m gonna go now.” he pointed awkwardly to the gym. she nodded and watched him trail off.

tsukishima didn’t tell yamaguchi why he walked into practice with an awfully red face. he also didn’t tell him why he never fought or argued with her the next day, and the days after that.

satori tendou

tendou was notorious for being, well, unusual. he had little to no boundaries, he freaked people out because of his monstrous volleyball talent, and he had barely any friends. to be honest, he was shocked at how easily you befriended him during your first day as shiratorizawa’s manager. you approached him like he was normal, and for the first time, he actually felt like a normal person.

hence, he wanted to make sure whether what you’re doing would result to something that would hurt him beyond repair one day.

“why are you doing this?” he asked.

“what?” you asked back, confused.

“you don’t want to be my friend, do you? you’re just doing this because you pity me?” he said in a rather snappy manner.

you pursed your lips and sighed. “you know, tendou, we all need someone in our lives.” you started, and he kept quiet. “i don’t know what you went through, but i know you’re somewhat lonely.”

silence enveloped the two of you for a few seconds too long for tendou to count.

“i really, really want to ease that loneliness, tendou.” you spoke again. “so i want to be your friend. i want to be someone in your life.”

tendou backed away slightly, blushing. he knew what you basically said was that you pity him, but he did not expect you to say that in such a heart-fluttering manner. he couldn’t get angry at your sparkling, sincere eyes. in fact, he was thankful. thankful that you were trying. thankful that you were honest. thankful that you weren’t afraid of him in any way.

“how did you know, though?” he asked once more, attempting to hide the redness of his face.

“how did i know what?”

“that. . i went through some things?”

you paused for a second. “just a guess.”

he huffed. “that’s a good guess.”

azumane asahi

asahi had insecurities, a lot of them to be exact. he doesn’t exactly show it because he didn’t want to become a burden to his friends: daichi, koushi, and shimizu. in his eyes, they are all exceptional. may it be academics or extracurriculars, the three of them were always the best.

but asahi? hell no. he couldn’t even get past their loss when they were matched against date-tech. he just had to have his junior, nishinoya, to bring him back up to his feet and play volleyball again. everyday, he was feeling pathetic.

one day, after one of the volleyball club meetings (and by meetings, they meant more practice matches until the wee hours of the night), asahi felt like he wasn’t performing well. his spikes were all over the place, his serves were weak, his body overall felt heavy. he immediately went out of the gym, clutching his bag, once they were dismissed. asahi was fuming, disappointed, and just wanted a hot bath when a petite figure that stood in front of him suddenly made him stop walking.

“y/n?” he asked, trying to suppress his emotions in his voice. “it’s 8pm, why are you still here?”

you didn’t meet his eyes and instead looked around and behind him, trying to see if there’s anyone from the team that was near earshot.

“um, here you go.” you said, meekly giving him a carton of strawberry milk. “it’s a bit warm now, so sorry for that.”

“thanks.” he said slowly, accepting the drink. he looked at it for a few seconds until he spoke again. “why?”

“you looked sick earlier in class, and i heard you were still attending practice.” you looked down, trying to hide your blushing face. “i hope this makes you feel better.”

he didn’t say it, but you making an effort in waiting that long just to give him strawberry milk was enough to improve his mood.