chasingchaosinwonderland

[chasingchaosinwonderland]

Awkward Yodelling [KuroTsuki]

Ao3 Account:

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Ship: Kuroo Tetsurou x Tsukishima Kei (M/M)

Rating: General

I wrote this awhile ago, because I absolutely adore both Kuroo and Tsukki, therefore Kurotsuki together is just... well, perfect. I love them so much and I plan to write about them more in the future, hopefully.

The two of them are lounged on Kuroo’s couch, after a seemingly endless week and Kuroo’s socked feet are gently rubbing against Kei’s thigh from the other side of the couch while he holds a mug of coffee in his undoubtedly chilled hands. Kei side-eyes him, knowing he’s too distracted by the match on the TV to notice Kei’s gaze if he’s subtle enough. Kei takes in his overly wrapped up appearance, Kuroo has always been extremely susceptible to the cold, it’s actually ridiculous. Adorable, but ridiculous. Kei scoffs lightly, thinking briefly about the first time they met and the sound causes caramel eyes to turn slowly towards him, and for the life of him, he doesn’t understand why his heart still stutters after all this time.

“What ya thinking about?” Kuroo asks, inquisitive as always. He’s smiling softly, which doesn’t correspond with the mischievous poking of Kei’s side with his big toe. Had he been ticklish like Kuroo himself, he would have jerked violently. Instead, Kei glares at the offending navy sock.

“Keeeiii,” Kuroo prompts and Kei huffs at the childish tone.

“I’m thinking about the first time we met and your ridiculous ice block extremities,” Kei smirks.

“Ice blo-,” Kuroo squawks, but cuts himself off. “Well, I can’t really argue with that, can I?” he mumbles softly to himself while looking into his mug. His eyes return to Kei’s after a fraction of a second.

“The first time we met, huh?” His smile is fond and beautiful and Kei wants to punch his heart in its metaphorical face, because it needs to calm the fuck down.

Their first meeting wasn’t anything too eventful, definitely not as exciting as Bokuto and Akaashi’s first encounter, but the memory was pleasant. The emotions and feelings and what it eventually lead to were what made reminiscing enjoyable every once in a while, when the two young men get too used to the comfort of each other’s presence and forget that they were once awkward idiots fumbling over their own thoughts and feelings about the other, so full of doubt and insecurities.

“Sometimes I forget about how far we’ve come, how it felt like it took so long to get to a comfortable stage, and now we’re sat here like this and it feels like everything occurred in a matter of minutes,” Kuroo says and it’s true.

“Time sure is a crazy thing,” Kei adds and he grabs Kuroo’s foot and places it in his lap, tired of the incessant poking and Kuroo chuckles.

“I’ll never forget that day,” Kuroo says as Kei thinks it.

It was in the university canteen, it was busy, but not overly so, which is why Akaashi and Kei chose to come at that time. Kei prefers Kuroo’s side of the story, so whenever people ask, rather than his magnificent mental rendition of ‘oh shit, oh shit, oh shit’ coupled with internal yodelling, they choose to tell it from Kuroo’s point of view.

Kuroo was sat with Yaku and Tora, discussing god knows what nonsense ( I mean it was the Nekoma boys after all), when Akaashi and Kei made their entrance. It was a normal entrance, super casual and low-key.

Only it wasn’t.

That is, because everyone who’s anyone knows that Akaashi Keiji is some sort of super beautiful being. Like, there is literally no actual way to put his ethereal beauty into the perfect words. This coming from Tsukishima Kei, who has absolutely no need for exaggeration or flattery.

Anyway, suffice it to say that the entire canteen’s eyes slid to land onto Akaashi (even the people staring blatantly at Kuroo – this is one part of the story Kei always adds in, as Kuroo’s obliviousness is just plain exasperating, the fool) and his own obliviousness almost caused Kei to face-palm, because what the actual hell.

This was when it happened, Kuroo’s gaze met Akaashi’s form for a fraction of a second only to lazily move to the right and meet with none other than Kei ’s . Rather than huge sparks flying , the world freezing and a burning passionate gaze, Kuroo and Kei’s eyes skittered away from each other. Kei’s instantly went to the ground and Kuroo’s to god knows where, Kei was looking at the tips of his Vans, obviously he wouldn’t know.

Also, this is where the ‘oh shit, oh shit, oh shit’ took place, because Kei had never seen eyes as beautiful before, cliché as it was. So yeah, Kei was freaking the hell out, which is why Kuroo tells the story.

Ironically, Kuroo was freaking out about Kei’s honey brown eyes behind those black frames too, only he found the courage to actually look back at Kei after the initial awkward eye skitter. The way Kuroo explains it always makes Kei embarrassed, but also undoubtedly overjoyed.

“Holy shit, who is that?” Kuroo had asked toward the group closest to him. Yaku and Tora turned to him and Tora gave him a suspicious look which, well, rude.

“Akaashi Keiji, dude everyone knows who he is, you dumb? I mean look at those raven curls, makes your bedhead look like even more of a disaster zone,” Tora says bluntly and Yaku attempts to withhold his snickering , to no avail. Rude , again . Also, not what he was asking.

“I was talking about the blonde, actually, ” Kuroo says, and he’s not even annoyed at the rude remark, because his eyes are back on the nameless blonde and he feels a bit like someone has dropped lead in his stomach and scared a bunch of chickens into violently fluttering about . He is incredibly beautiful.

“Hmm, the blonde? That’s Tsukishima Kei, if I remember correctly,” Yaku says thoughtfully and turns back to Kuroo curiously.

Tsukishima Kei. It suits him. Of course it suits him.

Kuroo always said that he seemed especially confused that everyone was so fixated on Akaashi. He wasn’t denying Akaashi’s attractiveness at all, rather he was trying to fathom how everyone seemed to overlook Kei.

Kuroo never believed in love at first sight, never even took it into consideration actually, however to this day he swears he fell body and soul for the beautiful blonde and practically free fell once he actually got to know the young man.

Nothing ever actually happened that day, Akaashi and Kei got their food and left. The two university students went on with their lives, with the thought of a split second of eye contact with a certain stranger on their minds. It was a few days later when everything sort of came together.

Kuroo was rushing to class, late and exhausted to the point that he was almost hysterical, it was a dark time, really. He stumbled through the science block and almost dragged someone down with him while cursing every being that took to hindering his day, but was cut short just before apologising to the poor student (or rather, probably student).

It was a student.

It was Tsukishima Kei.

So cute, so pretty.

“What?” Kei asked and his beautiful eyes were wide with shock as he fixed his slightly slanted glasses.

“What? ” Kuroo echoed and they awkwardly stared at each other in silence for a while.

(Cue the internal awkward yodelling and oh shit’s, dammit Kei)

“You just…” Kei eventually said and Kuroo could not take his eyes away.

That is until he realised what just transpired, then he just wanted to pull a Simon and dig into the ground, maybe even find his own Gurren Lagannand escape this situation, honestly. He just said that out loud, didn’t he?

“I just said that out loud, didn’t I? The ‘so cute, so pretty’ bit?” Kuroo asked and honestly he wanted to frame the look on Kei’s face, wanted to make it his wallpaper, wanted to put a sticker of it on his car. He was blushing up to his ears and it wasn’t even pretty, it was a blistering embarrassed red even falling down to cover his neck and Kuroo was transfixed. He was adorable.

Kei nodded slowly and Kuroo had honestly forgotten about their collision, especially because none of them had fallen over. Kei interlinked his fingers together in front of himself and Kuroo’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the clearly nervous habit.

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo blurted and Kei ’s eyes shot up from the ground to meet Kuroo’s.

“Actually, that’s a lie. I ’m not sorry at all,” Kuroo corrected as he simultaneously created an information overload within his own mind because of trying to take in every detail of Tsukishima Kei. A now seemingly annoyed Tsukishima Kei.

“Wow, thanks,” Kei had mumbled even though his hands were still clasped and he was looking down his nose at Kuroo , seemingly condescending. Kuroo wanted to laugh, so many contradicting non-verbal cues. He wanted to laugh and tease, like usual, and yet…

“It’s true though, you are adorable, beautiful really,” yup, Kuroo had no doubts. Kei lit up like a Christmas tree again , embarrassed and Kuroo felt fondness develop at the contradicting scowl on his face.

“Wanna go get something to eat or something? What do you like? ” Kuroo asked with a smile. Kei had barely said five words, but Kuroo had always been good at reading people, never mind the obviousness in Kei’s awfully contradicting actions. Though he won’t deny physical attraction being 95% of what is pulling him in.

“Something to eat or something?” Kei asked sceptically, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Yeah, like…. Cake?” Kuroo smirked at the sudden expression change, he wanted to learn everything about Tsukishima Kei. Along with the fact that he loves cake, apparently. Damn, who gets that excited about cake?

(‘Me, obviously. Cake is life, cake is what makes the soul, Tetsurou.’

‘Shush, Kei. I’m telling the story.’)

“We can go to that bakery just off campus, that way you don’t have to worry about this random being a creep,” Kuroo adds, to ease any reluctance of a stranger asking him out. Though Kuroo didn’t know that he wasn’t actually a random and that everyone on campus knew who the Kuroo Tetsurou was. Though, whether him being a creep or not was unknown.

Kei later confirmed he wasn’t a creep, along with learning a lot more quirks and facts about Kuroo.

" Never mind being late to class, I literally forgot I even had class that day – no regrets though, right?” Kuroo laughed as he leant over Kei and pressed his nose gently against Kei’s with the most beautiful smile on his dumb face and Kei was so in love.

The internal awkward yodelling still hadn’t ceased even after all these years, after all.

Later that evening:

"Wait, what the hell did that have to do with my so called 'ice-block extremities'?" Kuroo asks.

"When you passed me my strawberry short cake it felt like your fingers were icicles and I had to refrain from making some comment about you trying to seductively brush them against my own fingers. I almost dropped my precious cake, you abominable snowman," Kei smirked.

"Wha?!"

[These dorks love each other very much.]

[chasingchaosinwonderland]

IwaOi as one of my fav ships

So one of my friends said that they were starting to like IwaOi, but then kind of stopped because she reckons Iwaizumi is abusive?

Like, it’s all good and well that everyone has their own opinions, but I just do not agree with this one. For various reasons.

First of all, Iwaizumi seems to be a pretty awkward dude when it comes to expressing his emotions. Like he comes across as rather gruff and blunt, so soft and gentle is definitely not his forte, right? So I feel like he uses a smack across the head or whatever as a kind of motivation of sorts, or as a wake up call. Oikawa definitely needs it sometimes.

Also, Iwa-chan is the epitome of tough love. Oikawa is doubting is skills as a setter and feeling insecure? A gruff comment and maybe a rough shove, or the all famous headbutt that sure as hell snapped Oikawa out of it. Iwaizumi is not the consoling or gentle type (with obvious exceptions).

On the other end of the stick, Oikawa is not weak in the slightest. Childish, and temperamental, 100%. However, Oikawa Tooru is definitely one of the strongest characters in Haikyuu. He’s the captain of Seijoh, so this is obvious. His rivalry and insecurity regarding Kageyama is not a sign of weakness, rather it is what strives him to become stronger.

This is not including his own perseverance and inner strength regarding his strong desire to be an amazing volleyball player. He works so hard and his skill and talent as a volleyball player was and is rightfully earned, he deserves it. His mental fortitude within matches, as well as his respect and pride regarding his team is also not to be underestimated.

Therefore I cannot even fathom the concept of Iwaizumi being seen as abusive. Iwaizumi and Oikawa are childhood friends, they know each other better than anyone. Also, they have the utmost faith in one another and trust each other’s abilities.

Their relationship and connection is so deeply embedded into each of their personalities and everyone just knows it. I get that people may not ship them romantically, but I feel that their platonic relationship is impossible to deny.

Anyway, I have so much more to say, but I’ll end it there instead of ranting to myself, but god, how I love IwaOi.

[chasingchaosinwonderland]

100% accurate

A concept

Tsukishima starts calling Hinata “sunshine” ironically, but then he can’t stop ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[chasingchaosinwonderland]

Again and Again [Daisuga]

Okaaaay, so this is my first time posting any of my writing on tumblr and I’m super nervous heh. Any constructive criticism and comments are much appreciated.

This was originally posted on my Ao3 account, but I thought I’d start posting on tumblr too.

The song mentioned is one of my all time favourites - Iris, by Goo Goo Dolls and it is so incredibly beautiful. So if you don’t know it, definitely check it out!

There is hinted/mentioned/implied self harm, so please refrain from reading if it will make you uncomfortable. However it is not graphic at all, I just wanted there to at least be some warning.

Anyway, here it is..!

He held me in his arms like I was his entire world, and maybe I was. His steps were slow, strong and put together, everything that Sawamura Daichi was not. Well, not in the same way that most people would believe.

Soft notes of music carried him and I across the small space of his bedroom floor, rhythmically back and forth. A new song had started a short while ago, but I had been too focused on the dip of his eyes, waiting for them to look up and meet mine. It had been so long and he’d barely uttered a few words before I was in his arms and it felt like home again, a little bit broken, but warm and familiar. These past few months had been a mess of fluctuating emotions and obsessive fixations on things that weren’t at all important. I thought it best to leave, but it never was and it is so clear, so clear – in the empty alcohol bottles, the dark circles under his eyes and the frailness in Daichi’s usually steady body. I open my mouth to speak, just to hear his voice reply back, but he beats me to it and my legs seem to stutter as his voice comes out softly, hoarsely, but oh-so-beautiful as he sings along to the music we were slow dancing to,

“I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's meant to be broken

I just want you to know who I am,”

His eyes finally lock onto mine and a wave of regret, so much regret, hits me straight in the chest and I feel like I can’t breathe. He is so beautiful, in every way, but he is so incredibly broken and I will never be able to piece him together. Even though I can love him, do love him, with all his broken pieces, he will never be able to love himself and he needs that. Otherwise, he will never truly be happy, it will always be a put up front, an excuse to hide away.

He’s still singing along softly, his eyes have long since coasted back to our moving socked feet and I want to be his saviour, but at this point the only one who can help him is himself.

I’m ready to be there with him, through it all, to help him find himself and whatever it is he thinks he can never have, never be, never accomplish. He can do it all, I’ve seen it. When his eyes light up and the monsters are at bay, when nothing is chaining him down – he shines. I lift my hand from his shoulder and the tips of my fingers slide into the hair at his temples, it’s gotten longer; longer than I’ve ever seen it. Daichi’s cheek rests against my palm and he is so warm, so real and I love him so much.

“Daichi, I want you to show them to me,” I say softly while observing every movement that passes over his body and face. I’ve been preparing for this and it wouldn’t be a surprise if he was too. It still seems to catch him slightly off guard. He freezes and his eyes widen, all in a split second, before returning to normal. Always quick to cover everything up, no vulnerability, no means to let people in. He doesn’t say anything as he sways to the music and we make our way to the foot of his bed.

“Daichi,” I call again and his eyes meet mine – cold and dark, empty. I sigh and just before he plans to turn us away, back towards the door again, I shove him back onto the bed. He lands silently on the charcoal duvet cover and his hands curl into loose fists, “Daichi.”

Not a question, he knows this. I can see it in the way his shoulders hunch, almost unnoticeable. Daichi purses his lips, the first show of emotion after singing, only the second since they’ve met up again.

“Why?” he asks and his eyes raise to meet mine as he leans back, palms pressed into the softness of his bedding. He is the perfect look of indifference, with hooded blank eyes and my heart feels like it isn’t sure whether to plummet into hell or claw its way out of my throat. It all hurts.

“I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there,” makes its way out of my mouth and my voice is steady and calm, even though I feel everything but.

This isn’t about me.

Daichi’s eyes flash with emotion and then skate away and the horrible feeling settled in my gut intensifies. It must have been bad. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and he leans forward before cracking the knuckles of his thumb and pointer fingers gently. Daichi’s face is angled toward the floor, but he tips his head up to peek at me through his hair.

“Which ones?”

A freight train to the chest, I want to cry. But..

“All of them.”

All of you, all of those damn demons. Even the invisible ones.

Daichi huffs out a mirthless laugh and runs a hand down his face before standing up silently.

He turns around and lifts the long sleeve navy shirt over his head and drops it on his desk chair slowly before he starts unbuttoning his jeans. I watch, trying to appease the nausea piling heavy in my stomach, in my heart and I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for when he turns around again.

He finally turns and his eyes are everywhere but on me and it doesn’t really matter, because as soon as I get a glimpse of his body my heart stutters and I turn my head towards the ceiling slowly, closing my eyes. However, the image is burned into my mind, red jagged lines skating across his thighs, his hips, and the inside of his wrists. Various shades of red mar the smooth tan of his skin, creating a timeline of sorts filled with emotion and reasons no one will ever fully understand. I blink my eyes open and hot tears roll down my cheeks. Finding the courage to look back down is almost impossible, but somehow my eyes are on him again – his face this time.

Tired lines, dark circles, and bearded scruff, showing first – obvious – signs of neglect of self-care. His eyes full of carnage behind a smooth canvas of apathy, I look away, back to his body. It’s not any easier, I can feel my hands shaking uncontrollably. I want to yell, I want to understand why, but I won’t. Couldn't possibly.

I take slow and careful steps forward, his eyes widen the closer I get, but when my hands meet his exposed shoulders, his eyelids flutter closed. I kneel to the ground and his eyes shoot open just as my jean clad knees touch the carpet.

“Suga –“

“Shhh,” I murmur before gently pressing my lips against the lines on his left thigh. A sharp intake of breath forces me to look up and see his widened brown eyes once again, fists curled tightly. I move to the other thigh, harsher lines now, more recent. My lips tremble, but I refuse to cry right now.

The press of lips, slow and deliberate.

The right hip, the left hip. Stuttering breathes, eyes squeezed shut.

I rise to my feet and gently grasp his wrists and his hands fall out of fists reluctantly, I place his wrists parallel to one another, scattering gentle kisses against the self-caused rows. My rapid heartbeat is all I hear over the soft music until I move closer toward him and press my palm against his chest and it’s almost like it’s playing through earphones.

Hard and heavy. Alive.

I bend slowly, removing my hand and press feather light kisses against the smooth skin, feeling him exhale shakily. A tear falls down against my will, catching on my lips as I press gently against his heart once again.

Again and again, over his worst and most damaged wounds, until I no longer can, due to the sobs that I tried and failed at holding back.

Again and again, until one day, maybe it won’t hurt so badly. If only even a fraction of a fraction.

Again and again, until his arms wrap around me and I feel his sobs and his eyes are screaming ‘help’ and ‘I am so lost’.

Again and again, until it’s no longer kissing the pain and the wounds, but the healed scars that show exactly who and how strong Sawamura Daichi really is.