#the only one whose name i knew from the get go was haruki for some reason. idk why bc i didn’t even listen to hatsukoi no ehon till honeypre | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanfickittycat · 3 years

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First Glance

TITLE: First Glance

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One Shot

AUTHOR: fanfickittycat

FANDOM: Haikyuu!!

CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

GENRE: Romance/Fluff

FIC SUMMARY: Ushijima doesn't know why the girl tasked with covering the team for the school paper won't leave his mind

RATING: G

AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: I’m putting this below the cut but you can also read it on AO3 here

“Is she back already?” Ushijima didn’t flinch when Tendo joined his side, only nodding stoically in response. He was observing the girl with such rapt attention, that Tendo was genuinely surprised; usually, Ushijima only had eyes for volleyball. Girls seemed to be out of the question. Even when the topic of girls was brought up in the locker room, he never paused to pass comment. In fact, he didn’t look like he was even listening to the conversation, instead methodically doing up the buttons on his shirt or neatly folding his kit.

“I hear she’s from the journalism club” he said, watching his friend’s face carefully for any changes in his features. The day had been so boring, and finally something interesting was happening. “Hmmm”. Nothing. “I guess she must want to cover the team going to the finals.” “Hmmm.” Nothing again. “Maybe she’ll want to interview us?” Ushijima cleared his throat “hmmm.” Ah, bingo. “You should talk to her” he nudged Ushijima in the side “you’re the captain after all.” Ushijima finally broke his gaze, looking down at the water bottle in his hands “I’m not good at talking.” Tendo opened his mouth to say something encouraging; to bolster his friend who always seemed to be confident in all his abilities on the court, but the squabble between Semi and Shirabu stopped him.

“Hey” Ohira said “don’t fight in front of the press, it makes us look bad.” The two setters continued to scowl at one another but stopped bickering. “It’s no way to act in front of a girl” Tendo added, slapping a hand on his teammates backs “especially a cute girl.” His eyes trailed over to look at Wakatoshi who’s impassive face was betrayed by the way his hands mindlessly fiddled with the blue bottle in his hands. “I guess she’s cute” Semi agreed “if you like that kind of girl.” “What kind of girl is that?” Ushijima asked, making his teammates look up at him in shock. “W-well you know…” Semi struggled to come up with the words to describe her “she’s clumsy, did you see the way she almost tripped coming in here?” “Yeah, but she got up again with that super determined face” Shirabu interjected “like she was so nervous she was overcompensating.” “She seems energetic” Ohira said “and tenacious.” “Those are good traits” Wakatoshi said offhandedly. “They are” Tendo agreed, egging him on “and she has pretty, long hair. I usually like short hair on girls but even I have to admit that it’s very becoming on her. Right, Miracle Boy?” Ushijima looked up at her again, observing the waves of thick, dark hair that flowed past her shoulders. She tucked a strand behind her ear as she continued to speak to Coach Washijo and note down the things he said in her notebook. “Yes” he agreed “it is.”

Ushijima continued to think about the mystery girl as he got changed. Who was she? Tendo had said she was here on behalf of the school paper, but usually whenever they were written about, it was a sandy haired boy who came by. Why had he never seen her before? He idly put his jacket on, pondering what the feeling in his chest was. A sort of warmth and tenderness. He hoped he wasn’t getting ill.

“Before you all go” Coach Washijo said, stopping the boys from leaving the gym “remember we have practise on Saturday, and I expect you all to be there bright and early at 6am. No excuses. Also, we’ll have a member of the journalism club with us this week so watch your mouths.” He looked pointedly at Semi, who’s cheeks flushed red, much to the enjoyment of Shirabu who nudged him. Ushijima wanted to ask what her name was, but they were dismissed in the next instance and it seemed pointless.

The girl stayed on Ushijima’s mind. That evening he had several hazy dreams all involving her. In one, he just remembered her looking at him and smiling so brightly that he managed to miss a relatively easy receive. In another, she was interviewing him, and he was struggling to answer coherently. He didn’t remember the last one very well, but in it she was holding his hands. He woke up with her phantom touch still on him. He turned his head to squint at his alarm clock. It was almost five am, way too early for him to consider rising. He closed his eyes again, but sleep didn’t find him. He took his phone off charge and looked for Tendo’s number to text. He had insisted that he get a phone, but he didn’t use it much.

U: Tendo, are you awake? I have a query. 4:58am

He didn’t expect to get a response and instead went to take a cold shower to focus his mind. The cold water was a welcome distraction, and he felt his body leave the dreamy warm state it was in. Today he had practise until noon, but nothing especially pressing to do afterwards. Perhaps he’d take a jog before dinner. He knew he should probably make time to review some tapes from their last practise game too. Despite him concentrating on his own schedule, his mind once again wandered to her. What would she do today?

He left the shower, padding back to his room with a towel around his shoulders. His phone buzzed.

T: What query could you possibly have at 5am??? 5:08am T: Lay it on me, Miracle Boy 5:09am

He picked up his phone, struggling to come up with a coherent sentence.

U: The girl has remained in my mind. I think I must be getting ill, should I tell coach today? 5:12am T: Sounds like love sickness to me ;) 5:12am U: I’m not familiar with that illness 5:1am T: -_- It’s a good thing you found volleyball 5:14am U: I don’t understand 5:14am T: We’ll talk about it later 5:15am U: Ok 5:15am

“She’s here” Ushijima blinked at the girl, standing before them. She looked sleepy, clutching a thermos as she greeted the volleyball team members. Her hair was tied up into a ponytail, which Ushijima didn’t like nearly as much as her hair being out. Still, there was something admittedly quite cute about seeing her like this; dreamy eyed, red cheeked, and cosy in her fluffy jumper. She shouldn’t be out here in the cold, watching the boys do laps, she should be tucked up in bed with her hair being petted gently. The thought made Ushijima flush. He resolved to himself that he was going to concentrate on practise and not on this girl, whose name he still didn’t know.

“So, lover boy” Tendo teased, as he shrugged off his track jacket alongside his friend “you like her?” The boys had entered the gym now to do some routine stretches before doing drills, and Tendo had taken the opportunity to speak up. “I don’t know her.” “But you think she’s cute?” Ushijma paused and swallowed “yes, I suppose so.” “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.” Tendo winked at him and Ushijima frowned. Surely, he had his back? In their current formation he tended to be behind the Guess Monster. He shook his head free of the thought and went to join the others.

“Take a twenty-minute break and then we’ll do three on three!” “Yes, coach!” The lapse in practise was a welcome one, and Ushijima wiped the sweat off his brow with his towel, grateful for the moment to breathe. “This is your chance” Tendo sang, jutting his chin out at the girl who was speaking to Semi. “It’s rude to interrupt” he said, feeling a sinking feeling in his chest as she laughed at something Semi said. What was this? He felt something brew in his chest that made his teeth clench in annoyance at his teammate. He gripped the water bottle, turning away to drink. “Don’t be angry” Tendo chided “I’ve found out her name…”

*** You stood, trying to follow the game but it was difficult to really grasp what was happening. The ball was shot back and forth with such ferocity that you worried it would hit you. How embarrassing you cringed, picturing yourself getting smacked in the face with the volleyball. You took a step back for safe measure, trying to remember what Haruki had told you.

“The piece is about emotion as much as it’s about sport.” “What kind of feelings can hitting a ball possibly inspire?” You said skeptically. Haruki smiled apologetically “I’m sorry you have to take over for me” “You didn’t ask for a family death” you said, feeling sorry “I’ll do my best.” “You’re a talented writer. Just put your own spin on it, like you always do. I promise this is the last time you’ll have to write a sports piece.”

You had to admit, that despite the dread and the unmistakable sinking feeling in your gut from being out of your depth, you were also in awe of the players. The way they were able to make split second decisions that ensured the ball’s return to the other side of the court; the constant movement… It was actually impressive.

The red-haired boy – you still didn’t know them by name – had an almost eerie gift for knowing what the opposing side was going to do. You scribbled it down, annoyed when you dropped your biro.

“Look out!” Your head tilted up to see your worst fear coming true. The ball was flying towards you and you felt like you had frozen, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. You braced yourself for impact, lowering your head again but the hit never came. You heard a scuffle near you, and you opened your eyes to see the tall one with the olive hair hit the ball away. He met your stunned eyes with his formidable ones. You’d heard of this one. Ushijima the captain of the team. Haruki had assured you that despite his daunting exterior and intimidating manner, he was nobody to legitimately fear. Unless you were on the other team that is…

He looked away first, running back to the court to be alongside his teammates without a glance back. You felt winded. Whatever had just happened felt so intense that it was strange to believe that it was only a couple of seconds long. The sound of a whistle blowing, and the shouts of the demon coach did nothing to snap you out of it.

“Are you alright?” you looked up again to see the captain looking down at you. “Um, yes” you felt your hands go clammy “thank you.” He nodded at you and a silence followed. “Is it always so…” you looked for the right word “dangerous?” The corner of his lip twitched upwards “sometimes.” “Why do you play it then?” He hesitated, looking wistful “I’m good at it and I like it.” It was a terribly blunt answer, but it made you smile. “You’re funny” you said which made him cock his head to the side. “I’ve never been described as humorous before.” “It’s a special kind of humour” you said, rewarded with a faint blush colouring his cheeks. “How is your article progressing?” He asked, clearing his throat. “I think I found my angle on it” you looked up at him “but I need to do more research. I don’t really know too much about volleyball.” “You can ask me. I know about volleyball.” You felt flustered “are you doing anything after practise? Maybe you could help me clarify all the technical stuff?” He nodded “I’m free.” “Cool.” “Yes… cool” he nodded at you, excusing himself to run back. You felt your heart race as you watched him go back to the court. For the first time since you’d been assigned the piece, you felt excited about volleyball.

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blushoseoks · 7 years

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FRAGILE LINES. (M) PROLOGUE

Kim Taehyung had always loved the small and simple things in life. He enjoyed taking broken things and trying to fix them. You suppose that's why he always had his eye on you. Always took interest in you when nobody else ever did.

But, Kim Taehyung should have known that broken things don't stay fixed for long when the glue that was used to pave them back together is taken away.

He should have known that people can't fix people. And that leaving, was never a way to fix your problems - that leaving never did anyone anything good.

cr.

“That night I lost you, I lost something inside me. Or perhaps several things. Something central to my existence, the very support for who I am as a person.” - Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

›› Pairing: Kim Taehyung / Reader ›› Word Count: 1,810 ›› Chapter Index and Warnings ›› Highschool!AU, Love Triangle(?)

If you were asked your opinion on love, you would honest to God, not know how to answer. It's not because you didn't believe in it, that was out of the question. It was hard not to believe in it, when you witnessed it every day of your life, when you're reminded of it everywhere you turn.

Out of all the different types of loves you have seen, out of all of the examples you've beheld, you had decided awhile back, that the love between your parent's was your absolute favorite.

You liked it best between your parent's because it was able to be perceived in the simplest of their actions.

The gleam in your father's eye as he stares at your mother like she's the only source of beauty in the world. Like she's Picasso's greatest masterpiece, the finest piece of artwork to ever be created.

The forced laugh that falls from your mother's lips when your father tells a repeated and painfully unhumorous joke.

Love, you think, is the blush rising to your mother's cheeks as your father whispers compliments into her ear. Not because he wishes for sex, or because there's an ulterior motive behind his words, but just because he wants to remind her that she is beautiful.

It's definitely easy to dismiss the idea that love doesn't exist when you grew up in a house where love was never nonexistent. – When you feel it every time your mother plants a sweet kiss to your forehead and whispers a slow, “I love you,” into your skin.

You had always believed that love could be expressed in the simplest of methods. Whether it be in form of words formulated by Shakespeare's greatest works, or just muttering out an unenthuastistic, 'Be sure to wear your seatbelt.' Or rather in actions, demonstrated as easily as a hand wrapping around a waist, a kiss to a shoulder, a hand rubbing a thigh, or perhaps a hug even.

So the question wasn't whether or not you believed in love, you believed in it.

But just because you believed in love, didn't mean you necessarily liked it.

Because even though love could be sweet, powerful, and positively beautiful. It could be painful, dangerous, and toxic,, bringing out the absolute worst in people.

You had always believed that love was a fickle thing, that it wasn't always permanent. You had thought that love wasn't as extraordinary as it was made out to be in romantic songs, or chick flicks – because you had experienced the not so happy sides to love.

You had been kissed passionately and fucked roughly by a man who whispered sweet sounding, “I love you's,” into your ear as he reached his high, only to roll out of the bed minutes later, dress himself, and leave the rented motel room as fast as he possibly could.

You had been in a relationship where love was there one second, and gone the next. Disappearing so quickly that you had wondered if it had been there to begin with.

But the thing that had pushed you over the edge, and caused you to dislike love so immensely, was your personal experience of it being unrequited.

You had given your heart to a boy, had loved him so irrevocably intensely, only to be disappointed when you had found out that the love you had for him, was in fact, one-sided.

So, after numerous bad experiences all in the name of love, or what you thought was love, you had stumbled upon the conclusion that you definitely didn't like love.

You didn't like how it had a way of invading every inch of your being. Like a disease, it crept under your skin and seized you whole, eating you alive in the most torturous of ways. It infected your bloodstream, made your heart race uncontrollably fast, even swam in your veins. It became a part of you, slowly devouring every thing in it's path, destroying you from the inside out until it became you.

Your very own disease was in the form of a person going by the name of Jeon Jungkook.

He had slipped into your heart like a ninja and stole it like a thief. Made it his home without ever asking for permission. He took over every inch of your brain, you're fairly certain that if someone were to peel back different layers, that every corner, every crevice, every twist and turn would lead back to the boy whose name was stained to your heart like lipstick to an expensive wine glass.

So you found yourself stuck in a rut. A conundrum had taken form as your beating heart - because you didn't like love, but you loved Jeon Jungkook. And you wanted to love him, even if he would never love you back.

Because you decided awhile back, that even if you couldn't love Jungkook liked you wanted, as a lover, you'd love him the best way you could as a friend.

Love didn't always feel great.

You had discovered this years ago, but it only ever made itself known to you recently. And you're reminded of it as you stand inside of your kitchen, staring into the living room of your house and watching as Jungkook snakes his arm around your sister's shoulder and tugs her closer into his side.

At the sight you find your stomach turning in knots, and jealousy in the form of teeth sinking into your bottom lip, and red rising up your neck, occurring, you certainly did not feel great.

When his nose presses into your sister's hair, and his cherry colored lips – ones you've dreamed of more times than you can count - whisper something into her ear, something that makes her cheeks turn a maroon color, you do not feel great.

You find your teeth then gritting together, anger flowing through your veins as much as the unrequited love you have for Jungkook does, as much as the alcohol you've consumed that night does.

Love is unfair.

You think, as you watch them from afar. Secretly wishing that she was you.

You know it's unfair because it's not your sister who is up at one thirty one in the morning, but infact it is you - dark brown eyes peeled to the ceiling, lanky and thin body wrapped up in a million different blankets as Jungkook sneaks into your head, like the wind gushing through the crack in between your window and windowsill.

It is not your sister who had been there for Jungkook in his darkest times, when he needed someone most. But in fact, you. It was and will continue to be you who has and will answer your phone at three in the morning on a school night, it was and will be you who will drive thirty minutes just to pick him up from a party to make sure he gets home safely.

And it's just so unfair, you think, because you had done so much for the boy, and she had done so little. But for some unknown reason, he was able to find love within her, that he just could not find in you.

Love was painful.

Because the only thing you feel when you find yourself wondering what it would feel like to be wrapped in Jungkook's arms, bodies pressed together, legs intertwined. Is hurt.

Your heart clenches together slowly, the beating, you swear, ceasing when you think about the way his lips would feel on yours, think of the way it would feel to be loved back by him.

And these thoughts circulate your brain, and it's like you are living in your own personal hell. Thinking and imagining things that will be never occur.

And you're once again reminded that it will never occur for you because you are not the one Jungkook kisses a minute later, chuckling afterward, as your sister pulls back immediately and wipes her lips, cleaning off Jungkook's saliva.

You drop your head at the sight, no longer interested in the couple who aren't even a couple, but instead, finding the liquid of your wine cooler to be a whole lot more interesting all of a sudden.

If Jungkook was going to reside in your head and live in your heart, then the least he could do was pay the rent, or, fuck, love you back.

But, it wasn't going to happen. Not when he was head over heels for someone else, especially not when that someone was your sister, someone you completely differed from.

Your sister, was without a doubt, one of the prettiest girls to live in the crummy town that was Clifton Heights, Korea. With long dyed blonde hair, that cascaded ever so perfectly down her shoulders, evergreen eyes that shined with a gleam when hit by direct sunlight, and a body with all the right curves in all of the right places, it wasn't hard to see why she was.

You, on the other hand, were nothing like her.

Where her hair was long, yours was cut to your shoulders. Your dark black hair was no match for her glistening blonde, and your boring brown eyes could not compete with her green.

Where she was vivacious, captivating, and vibrant, you were – dull, boring, nothing that could be considered special. She turned heads effortlessly, and you had to try with all of your might just for the least bit of attention.

You were a contradiction of each other.

So if Jeon Jungkook fell for a girl like your sister, he would never be able to fall for a girl like you.

And even though it hurts as your brain runs over the thought, you knew that you'd continue to love Jungkook anyway.

Because you know, deep down in your heart that loving Jungkook is more important than being loved by Jungkook.

And as your eyes bore down into the liquid that remains in your wine cooler, the liquid that will be tossed back as effortlessly as snapping your fingers in hopes to rid your head of the boy your heart belongs to, you stumble upon your answer.

If someone asked your opinion on love, you'd tell them that it was a neutral feeling of everything happy and everything sad.

Mixed together like your favorite cocktail.

That's when you take a moment to really think about love, and how you don't believe in it for yourself.

Because if Jungkook, your bestfriend who knew everything about you – from the extraordinary amounts of ugly hidden deeply beneath your skin, to the twisted vines of beauty somewhere carved inside of you, couldn't find the right feelings, couldn't quite reciprocate the exact feeling, then who on Earth would?

Who could possibly love you as much as you loved Jungkook?

You find the beginning to that answer in the most unexpected place.

A/N: It was foolish of me to ever think that this could be a oneshot. To say I am excited for this fanfic, is a complete understatement. But, with that being said, I make no promises that this will be updated frequently. My first priority is GREY AREA.

Any who, feedback is encouraged and welcomed as always. Should I continue this? Does it interest anyone? Let me know your thoughts, and please stay safe! ♡

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recentanimenews · 7 years

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Sagrada Reset – 20

Urachi strikes the first blow, and as soon as Kei commits to preserving the abilities in Sakurada, all the abilities in Sakurada go bye-bye in an instant. After some momentary disorientation from the memories clashing in his head, Kei finds himself in a new world.

But from the moment this world “begins”, Kei doesn’t seem comfortable in it. How can he, when he has all his memories from the previous one? And how can he live life here knowing there’s a chance he can reverse Urachi’s handiwork and bring abilities back? If he can make it so Haruki’s last text to him isn’t an unnecessary apology?

In this world, Souma Sumire attends his high school and is an ordinary girl who likes him. But she notices something’s ‘off’ about him and through some discussions about the fallacy of memory, the five-minute hypothesis and being happy with the simple, unflashy life one has been given, Souma can help but feel rejected.

But it’s not just her: it’s this entire world. Kei can’t stay; not as long as he has those memories. And due to his ability, his memories will never go away.

In this world, Kei was born in Sakurada, while in reality he was born elsewhere and only moved to Sakurada in the sixth grade. In this world, his parents are dead and he is adopted. But he remembers the apartment he grew up in, and also remembers the taste of his mother’s curry. So he pays a visit to that hometown.

What I didn’t expect was that he would meet his mother, and the sister he never knew he had, whose name, Megumi, shares the same kanji has his name, Kei: both represent deep love, as their mother says to them; since names are what others use to call you.

Of course, Kei’s mother has no idea Kei is her son, so when he brings up something horrible he did to his parents and doesn’t think he has the right to seek forgiveness, she firmly corrects him. She may not know who his parents are, but they surely love him, even if they can’t forgive him, so he should apologize.

Of course, he can’t. Leaving his family was the price of remaining in Sakurada.

Little did I know (and possible little did Kei know himself) that his visit with his mother and sister would be crucial in his plans to undo what Urachi has done. When he visits Haruki, she’s back to her robotic, emotionless self of two years ago, and does not remember or trust him.

What she does do is humor Kei quite a bit, coming along on a bus ride, conceding a text was sent from her phone, proving they are acquaintances, than helping him hold a Polaroid of the cherry tree they’re standing in front of.

That photo, which was in Haruki’s hidden diary, turns out to be Kei’s key to getting back in the fight, as it transports him and Haruki to the time the photo was taken, back when she had the reset ability. All her memories rush back, but they’re a jumble, and she struggles to stand from the stress.

For whatever reason, she still can’t quite remember him, and when he tells her she should Reset, she tells him she can’t, because it “doesn’t feel like the right time.” That time comes almost immediately, however, thanks, again, to Kei’s experiences earlier in the day.

He thinks about the home and family he can never go back to, and the true meaning of his name, and dearly wishes for one last chance to undo some of the things he’s done. He didn’t cry over his past experiences on this day, but he does cry here, and Haruki remembers that that is her cue to Reset: when she sees someone crying. So she Resets.

And what do you know, Sumire Souma is also crying, by the water, in that very moment, upset that even after everything that happened, she’s not the one.

Back on the evening of October 22nd, Kei and Haruki are outside her house, and he can’t help but steal a big hug, so happy he is that his Haruki is ‘back.’ She can tell a lot has happened, and is worried about him. Kei tells her what’s going to happen the night after tomorrow unless they do something…they, not just him.

Haruki asks if abilities are really necessary, and Kei says no…the town would be fine without them, but he likes them, so he’ll do everything he can to protect them. With her help, he’ll attain the MacGuffin.

By: magicalchurlsukui

#Anime #News #RABUJOI – An Anime Blog

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