w2mini

[w2mini]

chapter two : magnolia

> series navigation

Okay. So heres the plan. You’re going to find Atsumu Miya, take that notebook, and NEVER interact with him again. Thats it. Simple right?

….Right?

You took a HUGE deep breath as you walked in circles in the hallway, thank god no one was here besides you right now, because you probably looked like a character in the walking dead, and I don’t mean the survivors.

Here goes nothing.

—

Today was probably the worst.

Maybe it was fate that you were never going to get your lovely, precious, and dearest notebook.

Because every encounter you had with Atsumu Miya, he was always BUSY, and you couldn’t even dare to interrupt just because you genuinely could not do so.

The first time you tried checking the gym, the doors were locked, which confused you so much but it could only meant that they haven’t started or they won’t.

The second encounter was him in the courtyard, which could’ve been a good opportunity if it weren’t for the girl confessing to him!

Poor her though, she seemed like she was rejected when you saw her running away with tears on her face. How badly did he respond to it to have her like that?

The last encounter was him in the hallways, which wouldn’t be so bad, but the crowd surrounding him was awful! what was so special about him anyways!?

You just grumbled in annoyance, deciding to give up before you lose more of your sanity.

Currently, you’re sitting on the benches near the track field, with your guitar placed beside, and Atsumu’s journal on your lap.

You sighed, slumping against the bench as you glare at the offending notebook that was on your lap.

Atsumu Miya's stupid volleyball playbook.

The universe was clearly against you, three times—three times!— you tired to give this back and retrieve your own, only for fate to sabotage you at every turn.

You glance down at the notebook. It looks so out of place against your uniform, like a cursed artifact you can't seem to get rid of.

Your fingers absentmindedly trace the worn cover before gently flipping it over.

Curiosity wasn't your strongest trait, but you decided maybe you deserved some insight into the life of the guy who unknowingly held your music hostage.

The pages are filled with messy but precise writing, drawings of arrows pointing at formations, underlined notes that say 'be unpredictable' and 'don't get into yer head.' Some pages have plays sketched out, while others have random doodles of volleyballs, LOTS of signature experimenting, angry scribbles, and what suspiciously looks like a very ugly cat.

You blink.

What in the kindergarten art class is this?

But before you could process the fact Atsumu Miya apparently doodles so horrendously, a voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"There ya are."

You froze.

Oh no. Oh no.

You look up just in time to see Atsumu himself jogging over, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt. His jersey clung onto him, his blond hair slightly damp, and he has the ever-present smirk on his lips that you loathed so much.

You almost choke.

He's here. He saw you. And you are holding his notebook open like a guilty thief.

Abort. ABORT.

Atsumu slows to a stop in front of you, golden eyes flicking from the notebook in your hands to your very suspicious expression.

"...Well?" he drawls, tilting his head. "Never took ya for the type to snoop, y'know"

You shut the notebook so fast it nearly slaps your own fingers. "I— I wasn't snooping!"

Atsumu raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Uh-huh. Sure. So ya just happened to be studyin' my master strategies for fun?"

You huff, standing up in an attempt to save whatever dignity you have left. "Listen, Miya— I've been trying to return to this to you ALL day. You were just either too busy being dramatic, rejecting someone, or acting like a celebrity to a hallway crowd!"

He blinks at you before suddenly grinning. "Wait, ya really went through all that just to find me?"

You narrow your eyes, "don't flatter yourself. I just want my notebook back."

Atsumu snickers, he's clearly enjoying this too much, before holding up his hands in surrender. "All right, alright I gotcha." Then, he nods toward your guitar. "But first..."

He plops down beside you on the bench, unbothered by your stunned expression.

"... since ya already got a sneak peak at my passion," he says, smirking as he took out your notebook from his bag, waving it around. "How 'bout ya let me hear yours?"

Atsumu leans back against the bench, arms stretched out behind him, looking far too comfortable for someone who just got caught in an interrogation, the notebook still in his hand.

You blink. Blinked again.

You stare at him, still processing the fact that he really just invited himself to listen to you sing.

"... You're really not leaving are you?" You ask, deadpan.

"Nope," he says, popping the 'p' obnoxiously. "Read some of yer songs, couldn't help but get curious on how they sound, yer quite the poet." He says, flipping YOUR notebook open.

Your heart races anxiously when he opens your notebook, you try to reach for it, but Atsumu lifts it up in the air, pushing your arm away.

"Ah, ah, not until you sing me a song first." he demanded. He was the reason he got you running the whole campus and NOW he wanted you to sing a song for him?

this bastard.

"Yer the one who went on a whole side quest just to find me. Least ya could do is gimme a lil' performance." he followed up.

You huff, crossing your arms. "That's not how this works, Miya."

But he just shrugs, grinning. "It is now."

You glare at him. He is so impossible.

But then you glance at your guitar, fingers itching to play something. You were planning to practice anyway, and if it meant getting your notebook back, maybe it wouldn't hurt to humor him.

"...Fine," you mutter, picking up your guitar from its bag and settling it onto your lap. "But if you make fun of me, I swear—"

Atsumu raises a hand, mock-serious. "Scouts honor."

You roll your eyes before taking a deep breath.

Guess it wouldn't hurt to try.

Your fingers instinctively moved, plucking out the familiar intro of one of your songs, Magnolia. The soft, airy chords drifting through the air, and before you even sing a word, the world around you quietly shifts.

You exhale slowly, letting the music settle. Then, you start.

"Magnolia, she could have anyone in the world."

Your voice comes out gentle but steady, each note weaving through the air like golden threads in the afternoon sun.

"Floats around town in a golden gown, born in a castle on a cloud."

Atsumu on the other hand, doesn't say anything. Doesn't interrupt.

Which is shocking, really.

"Magnolia, prettiest girl that I know."

Because for the first time since meeting him, he is completely still.

"Stars in her eyes, handpicked from the skies."

You glance at him for a brief moment as you sing, and something in your chest tightens at the sight—he's watching you, actually watching.

"Beautiful soul,"

No smirks, no teasing remarks. Just an intense kind of focus, like he's trying to memorize every note, every word.

"How can I compete with her?"

It.... felt weird. And kind of nerve-wracking.

"Perfection is the only word,"

But also, kind of... nice?

So you kept singing.

"I think of, when I think, of Magnolia."

The song flows effortlessly, carrying with the weight of something personal, something raw. You didn't even think about the guy beside you anymore—you just let yourself feel it.

When you finally strum the last note, the silence that follows is deafening.

You hesitate, suddenly hyper-aware of the way Atsumu is still staring at you.

"... What?" you ask, shifting uncomfortably.

Atsumu blinks, like he's snapping out of trance. Then, instead of answering, he let out a slow whistle.

"Damn," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't think ya had it in ya."

You frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothin' bad," he says, shaking his head. "Just— yer always actin' like I'm the loud one, but..." He tilts his head. "That? That was louder than anythin' I could ever say."

Your face heats up. What the hell was that supposed to mean?!

Before you could form a response, he suddenly stands up, stretching. "Welp, guess I should give ya this back now, huh?" He presents your notebook, handing it over.

You blink, still recovering from what ever just happened, before snatching it away from his hands. "Finally."

As you tuck it safely into your arms, Atsumu leans down slightly, smirking.

"...Ya gotta play that again sometime," he says, voice lower this time. "Y'know... just for me."

Your brain short circuits.

Before you can yell at him, he snatches his playbook before already jogging off, tossing a lazy wave over his shoulder.

You glare at his retreating figure, heart racing for reasons you refused to acknowledge.

"What an idiot," you mutter under your breath.

But despite yourself, your fingers tighten around your notebook... and a small, barely-there smile tugs at your lips.

—

YAYYY SHES DONE!! hope u guys enjoyed hdidjdkjd 🥹🫶 this felt so long to write omg

and yes! i love magnolia by laufey, her songs were what inspired me to write the scenes for this series.

Some songs mentioned here will be acting as songs written by [name] unless I do say that they will cover it.

taglist: @pookalicious-hq @twiishaa

[w2mini]

if you guys see me changing the chapter names NO YOU DONT

[w2mini]

chapter one : the fuck is a quick attack

> series navigation

It only took a few more days to pass before the Inarizaki high Foundation day starts. With the list of events, you could say Inarizaki was really busy.

You and your friends became the representatives for Battle of the Bands for Inarizaki (since knowing how much you guys loved to play together). It’s one of the major events where you guys have to go against other school’s bands.

By the sound of it, it was really nerve wracking, but you were excited nonetheless. You’ve always been passionate with playing the guitar, and to perform in-front of an audience, it felt like a huge opportunity.

Right now, you were running late for after school practice because of a certain teacher who (as usual) discusses this LONGGGGGGGG and now you’re running in the halls as you try to balance the weight of your guitar, your messenger bag, and the notebook in your arms. It felt like carrying the weight of the world.

It wouldn’t be this difficult if it weren’t for the amount of people occupying the whole hallway, you’re just praying that you don’t accidentally hit someone with your precious guitar.

—

If Atsumu could, he would’ve ran out the classroom as soon as the bell rang.

But this is Sir “The bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do” Kojuro we’re talking about. He just had to use those five extra minutes for more pointless examples.

If it weren’t for that MAYBE he would have gotten to practice early, but it was just the unfortunate luck the gods above cast upon him to have Sir Kojuro as the last subject teacher for the day, in MATH too.

The grip on his volleyball journal tightened as he sped through the halls, muttering a few “sorry” and “excuse me” as he passed through the crowd.

The foundation day truly had the whole school busy, with most clubs moderating and participating in the events, the volleyball club was no exception, as they had been endlessly training for their event to go against other schools.

it was gonna be a rather long day.

—

You successfully passed through the packed hallways, a sigh of victory escapes your lips, mentally praying to the gods for letting you survive another day.

You take a glance at your phone as you continued to run— crap, you're a minute late for practice now.

Clutching your music notebook to your chest, It was already embarrassing being late for the first time, each role in the band plays a critical role in the performance after all. You're almost at the stairs when— WHAM.

You slam into something solid— or rather someone, and suddenly, your entire world tilts. Your music notebook slips out of your arms. A grunt, followed by a thud as both you and the unfortunate victim of the collision stumble back.

"What the hell—?" Blinking through the shock, you look up to see none other than Atsumu Miya, Inarizaki's star setter, popular among his batch, and also— a cocky menace. He's on the floor, his arms sprawled out, looking like he just got spiked on.

His golden eyes narrow as he props himself up on his elbows, looking outraged. "Oi! watch where yer—" his complaint dies in his throat as he recognizes the person he just bumped onto.

You groan, as you scrambled to pick up your notebook. "You walked onto me," you grumble. "I swear you're built like a brick wall."

Atsumu scoffs, brushing off the imaginary dust on his jersey as he sat up. "Tch, you're the one sprintin' like yer depends on it."

He reaches for his fallen journal, snatching it up just as gather your stuff.

You glared at him, clutching the notebook to your chest, "Whatever, just— move next time."

He smirks, clearly enjoying your annoyance, "You should be thankin' me instead, that was the most exciting thing that's probably happened to you today."

Oh you wanted to punch this prideful bastard.

You roll your eyes, biting back a retort before bolting up to the stairs to go to the music room.

Atsumu watches you go, shaking his head. "weirdly aggressive..." he muttered, before hopping onto his feet and jogging towards the gym.

—

You reach your destination as you slide the door open, trying to catch your breathe. You looked like you just ran the whole distance of the great wall of China.

"Late again are we?" one of your band members say, a voice you recognize that was Shiho's— your band's bassist. You looked up, seeing her smirk at your unfortunate soul with her hands resting on her sides.

"Let's just begin, I didn't mean to be late okay?" you say as you placed your guitar on the wall, unzipping the bag.

"Can't blame ya, Ma'am Amanai never likes to waste those five minutes," Shiho replied, "but you're paying for the next eat out as punishment." she followed up with a chuckle as you could feel your soul drift away hearing the words 'paying for'.

"Whatever," you say, but the annoyed exterior breaks as you giggled softly, taking the guitar out of the bag, ready for practice.

—

Atsumu arrived at the gym and opened the door, already expecting Kita's cold as ice glare and his twin's teasing smirk.

He awkwardly stood there, chuckling nervously as he scratches the back of his neck, looking at everywhere but a certain white haired team captain.

"Well?" a voice he recognizes as Kita's cut through the awkward silence like a sharp knife as he feels his body hair go up.

"...Sorry for, uhm" Atsumu gulps nervously, "...for being late." If there was anyone to keep check of Atsumu's pride and keep him on his shoes, it had to be Kita Shinsuke.

Kita simply nods in reply, "It's alright, just be sure to be on time next time." As soon as he feels Kita's gaze go away, he sighed in relief.

So much for getting nervous.

"Sir Kojuro huh?" Osamu joins in the conversation with a teasing smirk on his face, oh how MUCH Atsumu wanted to smudge off that damn grin.

"Don't even start," Atsumu groaned as his twin only chuckled in response, "yeah yeah, whatever."

—

It was already 5:30 PM on the clock, you and your friends had decided to call it a day, you could've sworn your fingers were dying.

"Man am I hungry, oh! let's go on a quick convenience store run shall we?" Saki— your band's keyboardist had suggested.

"Yeah, I'm oddly craving yogurt today, what do you guys say?" another voice follows, it was Honami— the band's drummer, waiting for the others reply.

Ichika— the band's vocalist spoke up, "you guys can go, I promised my mom to help her with some tasks."

"I'm up for it," Shiho answered, as she looks over to you just as you rummage through your bag.

"Yeah just give me a moment," you replied, continuing to search, "I'll just note down our progress."

You took your notebook out, expecting to see the chords and tabs you wrote down—

huh.

HUH?!

Quick attack formations, jump float— WHAT THE HELL WERE THESE??

The others, witnessing your confused expression, looked at each other confusingly before they went over to you to see what was going on.

"What's up?" Shiho asks, looking over to your notebook as the others go behind you to check.

"Aren't those volleyball terms? since when were you interested about volleyball?" Honami points out as she continues to analyze the pages.

"This isn't mine..." you said, you didn't even remember writing these down. Although, the notebook brand was the same as yours.

You went through your memories of today, trying to figure when, where and how you mixed up your notebook—

oh.

Atsumu Miya! that had to be it. Who else played volleyball that you met today besides him?

You did however, remember he was carrying a notebook that oddly looked the same as yours, the same Muji brand that you had.

It was probably during the collision that you guys had earlier was what mixed up your notebooks. You mentally facepalmed with how much of a rush you were in earlier you didn’t bother to even think about double checking it first.

“Care to share with the class?” Ichika snaps you off from your thoughts, seeing how you had connected the dots.

“Long story short,” you started, “I bumped onto Atsumu on the way here and we both dropped our stuff, that’s probably how we mixed up our notebooks,” you finish with a sigh.

“Atsumu? as in the twin with the badly bleached hair?” Shiho asks, noticing how everyone looked at her after that.

“….No offense” she muttered, putting her hands up in defense.

“You know [name], you should just tell him tomorrow after class, it’s that simple!” Saki clasped her hands with such enthusiasm that you wouldn’t dare to have about this subject.

Maybe the gods didn’t save you after all.

—

CHAPTER ONE POSTED FIANLLY YAYAYAYAY thank u guys so much for the support 🥹🥹🫶

taglist: @pookalicious-hq @twiishaa

[w2mini]

can i just share my tweet rn as i write chapter one of sets and strings

[w2mini]

[PROFILES] > series navigation

Hot shit 2nd year / Live action k-on

⭑𓂃 ATSUMU MIYA 🏐 setter

⭑𓂃 OSAMU MIYA 🍙 wing spiker

⭑𓂃 SUNA RINTARO 🏐 middle blocker

YAYY here r the second years !!

if you wanna be added to the taglist just comment🫶

taglist: @pookalicious-hq @twiishaa

[w2mini]

[PROFILES] > series navigation

Live action k-on | hot shit 2nd year

⭑𓂃 GUITARIST 🎸 [name] [surname]

⭑𓂃 DRUMMER 🥁 Honami Mochizuki

⭑𓂃 KEYBOARDIST 🎹 Saki Tenma

⭑𓂃 VOCALIST 🎤 Ichika Hoshino

⭑𓂃 BASSIST 🎵Shiho Hinomori

yes leo/need from project sekai are your band members LMAOOO I did NAWT want to make original characters js for this 💔💔

taglist: @pookalicious-hq @twiishaa

[w2mini]

rest of the week is no school i can finally work on sets n strings WOOOO

[w2mini]

SETS AND STRINGS ! (smau series)

⭑𓂃 in which, when an accidental mix-up occurs during a chaotic day in Inarizaki causes you to swap your precious music sheet (that you so needed for the upcoming Inarizaki Foundation day festival) for Atsumu’s volleyball journal, your lives become unexpectedly tangled.

NOTES ˎˊ˗ 🎸

⭑𓂃 I wrote this being inspired by a certain couple in our school LMAOO, honestly this was supposed to originally be time-skip era but i didn’t feel confident writing about adult life…😿SOBS and yes! I will never get tired writing about Inarizaki.

this is an SMAU also mixed with writing, don’t worry I’ll try to add borders so you don’t accidentally miss a writing part ^^

WARNINGS ˎˊ˗ ⚠️ (or just a list of info tbh)

⭑𓂃 swearings / highschool love / lowk ooc (I’M TRYING) / grammar errors / atsumu himself is the warning / using newjeans for group photos 🫶 / fem reader

PROFILES ˎˊ˗ 🏐 (for smau)

live action k-on / hot shit 2nd year

taglist: @pookalicious-hq @twiishaa

🎧 CHAPTERS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

chapter one : the fuck is a quick attack

chapter two : magnolia

… under construction 👷‍♀️

[w2mini]

thinking about filo jamming session w/ Iwaizumi Hajime “Padilla”

“Pangarap lang kita”

Those lyrics echoed throughout the room as the two figures sang alone in the classroom, their melodic voices being the only sound you could hear.

As you strum your guitar, Iwaizumi sang along with you as he sat beside you on the floor.

Being in a foreign land was difficult, sure, but reliving moments like these originating back to your home was what made it worthwhile.

Iwaizumi met you when he heard about a new transfer student, a foreigner one too, much to his surprise, they were also from the same homeland as his.

You guys instantly clicked when the both of you met, you still remember the relief you felt when he approached you during lunchtime, the relief of not being alone.

Your discussions with him would range from one topic to another, then to another. Surely a talkative duo.

And let’s not forget about the fact that almost everyone didn’t want to bother the both of you because it may as well just end up with you guys secretly talking about them in your language none could understand.

Insert Oikawa’s “What does punyeta mean?” with Iwaizumi and you cackling in the background.

“At kahit mahal kita,”

And now, your friendship with him continued to bloom as the both of you bond over jamming sessions like this with songs from your home country.

It’s became a weekly routine at this point, ever since Iwaizumi learned that you could play the guitar, he would tune in to listen to your alluring voice.

It started when you were playing at an abandoned classroom, a simple idea that you thought it would be a nice place to play songs on.

That was when Iwaizumi caught you singing the same song you guys were currently singing. Oh if only he could admit how much that sight deeply affected him.

“Wala akong magagawa,”

He’s still not sure with his feelings, although it’s lingering within him, fear still struck him to no end.

His mind is set onto two things only, that was: volleyball and you.

He dreamed big, VERY big. Maybe he would introduce you to his family, get married, have a cat, or maybe a dog.

But there was one problem.

You’re only here to study for highschool, but after that, you’re considering to probably go back to the Philippines for college.

Iwaizumi knows theres still plenty of time before you would leave, but it still bothered him, he knows how difficult long distance relationships are.

“Tanggap ko oh, aking sinta,”

but maybe some time.

“Pangarap lang kita.”

He’ll say those words to you when he feels ready.

The song ends with those lyrics as your fingers drifted away from the guitar’s chords, your gaze moving to the man beside you as you gave him a satisfied smile.

“Magaling ka naman pala kumanta Iwaizumi” (you’re good at singing) You said in a teasing manner as he responded with a light punch on your shoulder.

“Manahimik ka nga, pati hindi ba mas mataas ako sayo ng isang year? dapat lagyan mo ng -san yan” (be quiet, also I’m a year higher than you, you should add a -san there) Iwaizumi joked, knowing how conscious you could get when it came to Japan’s manners and etiquette.

“O sige nga, gusto mo tawagin pa nga kita ng kuya eh” (Oh sure, I could call you brother if you wanted too) You teased back, making Iwaizumi turn red in embarrassment as you turned into a fit of giggles.

Gosh, if only you knew how much he loved you.

MY DEAR FILOS WYA!!! sorry if its short, this was just a small idea that I thought of, also because Parokya ni Edgar is gonna have a concert in don bosco HEHEHEHHEH

also just so were clear, the term “Kuya” doesn’t entirely mean ‘brother’ but it’s also a way to address a guy that’s older than you.

I hope u guys enjoyed 🎀🫶

[w2mini]

are there any filo hq fans in tumblr anymore i wanna make a half-filo!iwa smau sobbing

[w2mini]

I apologize if i havent been updating my fanfictions, writers block is bad😭😭 i have so many drafts but im too tired HISHFJDJ

[w2mini]

“I like robin” HO WHICH ONE????

[w2mini]

this had be BLUSHING ob my god kinilig ako

🌊 love.

fluff, f!civilian. inspired by @mostly-imagines ‘ fics, slightly ooc i think..

( how jason’s stone heart softens around you. pt 2 )

Love was a very foreign concept for Jason. He has read books, watched movies with the batgirls and watch the corny love shows Dick binges but nothing seems to him show him how to love.

Sure, there are some things he likes. He likes a few things, but nothing seems to be ‘love.’

Love? It was only for the naive and the vulnerable. He had seen too many people get hurt, including himself. Love makes a person weak, those feelings would lead to mistakes and pain. So he thought he was better off without it. How could he love something, when he doesn’t even love himself?

It was a snowy night, he was leaned over some random apartment’s wall holding over his wound. His hand was pressed against his side as he felt the blood seep between his fingers. He grits his teeth in pain, the cold nipping at skin.

It was a bad night, he had been caught off by a group of criminals who ambushed and destroyed his earbud for communication. He had no choice but to seek refuge, the nearest safe house was 30 minutes away and he couldn’t make it. As the footsteps grew closer, Jason tensed up, his hand instinctively going for the gun strapped to his hip. But before he could draw his weapon, the figure came into view, wrapped in winter clothes for warmth.

Jason's eyes narrowed, trying to make out the figure's features in the low light. He had no idea if this person was a friend or foe, and as he was in no condition to fight, he would need to be cautious.

“Uh, hi?” you said, concerned about the guy on your porch. You had just come home from an odd dinner date and things couldn’t just get weirder.

Jason's eyes softened as he heard the voice addressing him. Despite his usual cold demeanor, he didn't want to startle or scare you. After all, he was in no condition to fight right now. "Hey," he responded, his voice strained from the pain. "Sorry to bother you. I just... needed a place to rest for a bit."

You looked at him, he had a damaged red helmet over his head, brown jacket and a wounded side.. isn’t this the vigilante guy? You stepped closer, but not too close. “You’re hurt.” you said, as you then looked around then back to him “D-do you need an ambulance or..?”

Jason huffed weakly, "Nah, I'll be fine. It's just a scratch" he said, trying to play it off. However, he knew he needed to do something about the wound soon. "Do you, uh, mind if I come inside for a bit? I won't be a bother, I promise."

You slowly nodded “Yeah.. yeah of course let me help.” you said as you reached out to him. Jason nodded in appreciation. He winced slightly as you reached out, still feeling the pain from his wound, but he knew he couldn't refuse any help he could get.

He leaned on you for support as he slowly stood up, his legs feeling like jelly. "Thanks," he muttered quietly. "I owe ya one, doll." You propped him on your couch, you looked down at his bleeding wound. “I can help.. uh, I know a bit of nursing.” you said.

He looked up at you, his eyes studying you intently, trying to gauge your intentions. He didn't know you, but he had no other option at the moment.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“Yeah, wait, let me find my first aid.” As you came back with the kit in your hand, you kneeled, lifting his shirt up to see the damage. As you looked at his wounded side, you could see the deep gash across his abdomen, with blood slowly seeping from the edges. It was a nasty wound, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with basic medical supplies.

Jason winced slightly as you touched his sides, hissing in pain. "It's not as bad as it looks." he muttered, trying to sound tough. You gave a skeptical look at his comment but continued to tend to his wound. As you pulled out some gauze and antiseptic, you couldn't help but notice the numerous scars that covered his stomach and chest.

Jason noticed your curious glances, and a flicker of unease passed through his eyes. He was used to the scars by now, but he still felt a sense of discomfort whenever someone would glance at them. He knew they were hard to ignore, but he preferred keeping them hidden whenever possible. He didn't like showing weakness, and the scars were a clear sign of his failures.

You continued on your work as you placed the antiseptic “This will sting.”

"Just do it," he said through clenched teeth. "I can handle it."

You proceeded to gently wipe the area around the wound with the antiseptic, making sure to clean out any dirt or debris that might have gotten inside. He tensed up, groaning slightly as the antiseptic stung his skin. You knew he tried to hide his discomfort.

“Sorry if I stared.” you said as you started to wrap the bandages, “That was rude of me.”

"It's fine," he said, his voice gruff as he spoke. "I know I'm not the prettiest sight to behold." you couldn't help but frown at his comment. There was more to him than just his scars, you thought. But you knew better than to say anything about it.

You wrapped the final knot as you dusted your hands, “I’m done.”

"Thanks," he tried to sit up straight, wincing slightly as he put pressure on his wound. You tried to make him sit “Woah woah, okay, don't push yourself.” He allowed you to gently push him back down onto the couch. He wasn't used to being told what to do, but he couldn't deny that he was still fairly weak from his injury.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

“What are you exactly?” you asked, brows furrowing. He paused for a bit, thinking on his answer " I'm a vigilante," he said, "I patrol the streets at night and take care of the bad guys."

“Do you… kill people?” He looked away, unable to meet your gaze. "Sometimes," he said quietly, his tone distant. "When there's no other choice."

"I don't enjoy it," he continued, "But sometimes violence is the only language criminals understand." You tell your name as he nodded in response, “Call me, Red Hood.” he said. You looked at him, pointing at his head “But that’s a helmet.” you said. He huffs “Well, I don’t exactly go around telling people my name sweetheart.”

Jason looked out the window, noting the late hour. He knew that he should get going— the night would not wait for him. He shifted on the couch, wincing slightly as he jostled his wounded side. "I should probably get going," he said, slowly getting up from the couch. Your eyed widened as you stood up as well “What? Are you sure?”

Jason nodded, gritting his teeth as he tried to stand up straight. He could already feel the pull of the stitches in his side, but he didn't want to worry you any more than he already had. "I'll be fine," he said, even though he was still somewhat wobbly on his feet. "I've had worse."

You watch him open your window and left to the snowy cold city. You walked towards your window, hands on the railings as you saw him leave, “Stay safe!” you yelled out. He turned slightly and nodded, giving you a small wave before disappearing into the shadows of the city.

About 2 days passed, somehow.. he felt this itch. He wanted to return the favor. It was a foreign feeling for him— he wasn't used to caring about anyone besides himself. But something about you just wouldn't leave his mind.

Like why does it even matter? You 're just some rando who treated his wounds.

…And so, on the third day, he decided to pay a visit to your apartment.

He didn’t know how to approach this situation, he landed on your fire escape. The steel slightly shook from his weight. He paused as he reached your window, peering through the glass with hesitance in his eyes. The blinds were closed, but he could see your silhouette from the light.

Jason tried to get a better view of you through the slits in the blinds. He wasn't sure why he was being so cautious— after all, he was the one who had decided to come here.

God this was so stupid.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the glass, signaling his presence. You were in the middle of making yourself a cup of tea when you heard a knock on the window. You were confused, and a little creeped out. Who would be knocking this late at night?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you walked towards the window and pulled the blind strings, white lenses widening at the sight of a figure standing on your fire escape. You let out a surprised noise as you saw him. You opened the window as you felt the cold air come in “Red Hood? Why are you here?”

Jason hopped into your apartment, his boots making a soft thud as he landed. He looked around for a moment, taking in the cozy space before focusing his gaze back on you. He shrugged, as if his presence here was no big deal. "Just thought I'd return the favor," he replied.

Your eyes darted around the room, “Er, by how?”

…Shit, he didn’t even think of what to return. Jason cursed under his breath, fuck why didn’t he thought this through?

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to come up with something quickly. “I could uh, keep an eye on you. Make sure no one bothers you.” he says “If I see a shady guy sneaking around your fire escape i’ll shoot em’”

Jason mentally facepalmed at his own words. That was stupid, he thought. You probably didn't need him lurking outside your window like some kind of oversized bodyguard. You looked at your table with your tea set and back to him “Do you want tea?” you invited.

He paused for a moment before nodding slightly, “Yeah.. yeah sounds nice.” he said as he took a seat.

You then remembered he wore a helmet, “Wait— I can just drink in another direction while you…” he takes off his helmet and saw him with a domino mask. He had a white streak on his hair and he looked younger than you expected, about your age actually. “…drink.”

"Yeah," he snorts, unable to hide a hint of amusement in his voice. "I can't exactly drink with a helmet on." You sat in front of him as you poured the warm tea in his cup. He picked up the cup, wrapping his fingers around the warm porcelain. The aroma of tea drifted up towards him, and he took a small sip, relishing the hot liquid as it warmed his chest.

“Are you really here to return the favor?” you asked, looking up at him. “Yeah, I am,” he replied, “I don’t like owing people favors, much less owing one to someone I just met.” he added, "But I also wanted to check on you. Make sure you're alright."

“I’m alright.” you replied “You don’t have to return the favor, you know.” Jason shakes his head "I'm a man of my word," he retorted, "I don't like leaving things unfinished."

He took another sip of his tea, the hot liquid giving him a moment to think. "Besides," he continued, "It's not like I have anything better to do." you raised your brow, “You probably do.” you said as you sipped your tea.

“Well, yeah maybe so. But still.” Jason leaned back slightly in his seat, swirling the tea in his cup as he tried to find the right words. He knew you were right— there was always something for him to do out there on the streets. “I’d rather be here, to be honest,” he darts his eyes away from yours.

You warmly flashed a smile “Sure, you can come over anytime.” he raised his brow, "You sure about that?” he asked, a touch of humor in his voice. "You don't even know my real name."

You hummed “True, but I don’t really have any company.”

Jason studied you for a moment, trying to gauge the sincerity in your words. It was hard for him to believe that someone would be so carefree about inviting a masked vigilante into their home. But there was something genuine in your expression, a loneliness that mirrored his own.

He took another sip of tea, mulling your words over. "What, no boyfriend?” he lets put an amused scoff. Your hand moved across your neck with a bitter expression. He knew that look all too well— the look of someone with a bitter past.

"Bad breakup?" he asked. You sighed as your eyes darted down, “Yeah, it was really messy.” you said, sipping some tea.

He didn't push you for more details, knowing that you would share only as much as you were comfortable with. Instead, he simply nodded, "I can imagine," he said quietly. “It happened two days ago actually, when you sat on my porch injured.”

Jeez, how he felt terrible.

"It was that recent?" he asked and you nodded. Jason felt guilt as he realized the timing of his visit. You had been dealing with a breakup when he had shown up randomly on your doorstep. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Bad timing, I guess." you chuckled “No, it’s fine. I guess it’s better than sulking to myself. I mean it's.. really weird but, hey.”

He let out a soft scoff, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “Yeah, I guess I’m better company than crying alone in the dark.”

Over the next few days, He would find himself returning to your apartment. Even though he was very hesitant at first, he found himself unable to stay away. He tells himself… it was just a matter of returning a favor, but he knew there was more to it than that. Your apartment had become a sort of like haven for him, a place where he could let his guard down and be himself.

Every two nights, he would make his way through the city, cloaked in shadows until he reached your window, slipping through your window without a word and settling on your couch. Each time, he would sit in silence for a few moments, as if checking to see if he was welcome or if you would turn him away. But you always seemed to accept his presence without question, offering him a cup of tea or a light conversation.

Was it stupid and dangerous for the two of you? Yes. Does he still visit you anyway? Yes.

It was another night, and Jason found himself making his way towards your apartment once again. He had gotten used to this routine, this quiet comfort of slipping through your window and finding a place on your couch. As he landed on your fire escape, he took a moment to scan the area, making sure no one had followed him. Satisfied that he was alone, he let himself into your apartment, as usual.

He entered your kitchen in his usual stealthy manner, taking off his helmet and setting it on your table. As he did, he caught sight of you sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone.

You looked up at him, “You’re a day early.” you said. He gave a soft scoff, “Am I not welcome here anymore?” you shook your head, “No, no, no, you are.”

“Good,” he replied, taking a seat on the couch. “You know you shouldn’t treat other randos like this if I’m gone.” you rolled your eyes as you stood from your seat and shuffled in your cabinets, “I know, I’m not dumb.” you replied. "Just making sure,” shrugged, you could tell that he was teasing you a bit. “Wouldn’t want some sketchy guy taking advantage of your kind heart.”

"Oh, shut it,” you retorted, turning to look at him. “I’m not that easy to take advantage of.” Jason let out a huff “Oh really? Seems to me like you're letting me waltz into your home every other night without complaint.”

You let out a huff, trying not to let your frustration show. He had a point… but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

"That’s different,” you protested. "You’re not some random creep." Jason smirked, enjoying your reaction. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked up at you. "But you barely know me," he said, "For all you know, I could be some criminal mastermind, pretending to be a nice guy."

You took a box of macaroni and turned back to him with a glare, “Are you asking to get kicked out?” you don’t actually mean it, but he could be right. Jason knew you weren’t being serious, but the hint of truth in your words made him tense.

"No, I’m not asking to get kicked out,” he assured you, "I’m grateful for your hospitality, honest." You did a smug smile, “That’s what I thought.” you said as you started to cook some macaroni.

He huffed as he leaned back on the couch, watching you work. He couldn’t help but find your confidence amusing.. the way you weren’t afraid to stand up to him or tease him back.

He shifted in his seat, feeling uncomfortable with his own relaxed behavior. He couldn’t quite figure out why he was so at ease around you. Maybe it was the fact that you accepted him without question even though you shouldn’t, or maybe it was something else entirely. He couldn’t quite pin it down.

But.. either way, he admits he enjoys this.

Jason was used to bantering with his siblings, it came naturally to them. Here, it felt lighter. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

His next visit was odd, it was a different visit from the usual. Jason arrived slightly later than usual, a scowl on his face and a heavy air of frustration surrounding him. As he slipped through your window, you could immediately tell something was off. He didn’t offer his usual greeting, and his shoulders were tense, as if he was carrying a weight heavier than usual.

He didn’t even take his helmet off, you can’t help but be worried so you walked over to him, “Are you okay, Hood?” you asked, testing the waters. Jason’s eyes flicked up to look at you as you approached him. Yet he still felt cold.

He let out a scoff, his gaze somewhere else. “I’m fine,” he muttered. You took a cautious step closer to him, your eyes studying him carefully. "Something happened?" you asked quietly, keeping your voice gentle.

Your hand hovered in the air, unsure what to do. You didn’t want to piss him further, you don’t know what he was like when he was angry. He knew that he was giving off an intimidating aura, but part of him couldn’t help but wish you would reach out.

He let out another sigh, trying to reign in his temper. "You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me," he muttered. Okay, well now you felt a little relieved at his words. You weren’t sure how he would react if you pushed further, but you also knew he needed someone to talk to.

You sat in the couch beside him, your hand finally landing on his shoulder. “You know you can talk to me, right?” you said softly. You could feel him tense up slightly, but he didn’t shrug you off.

He let out another sigh, the tension in his body slowly starting to uncoil. “It’s just family stuff,” he admitted, his voice quiet. Your eyes softened as your hand moved to his back, “You wanna talk about it?” you asked. Jason looked at you for a moment, his eyes fixed on your face. The sight of your soft, empathetic expression made his walls crumble slightly, and he found himself nodding.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” he said gruffly, setting his helmet down on the coffee table. He leaned back on the couch, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just family issues, nothing new. My siblings all drive me crazy, and everyone’s got their own drama going on. Can’t seem to catch a break.”

You pulled your legs up on the couch, “Big family?” you asked. He looked over at you, a hint of humor in his eyes. "Have you ever tried dealing with seven stubborn people under one roof?" you softly chuckled with a small smile, “Yeah, I get it.” Jason's lips tugged into a slight smile at your response, "Yeah, I figured you might.”

Your hand left his back, “You want tea?” he nodded. “Yeah, thanks.” It was oddly comforting, how you offered small acts of kindness without asking anything in return. He watched as you placed the tea set on the coffee table, the aroma of the tea starting to fill the room. He found himself strangely at ease, the tension from before slowly seeping away.

“Here you go.” you said as you handed him a cup. Jason accepted the cup of tea from you, his fingers brushing against yours briefly.

You watched as he took a sip, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "Feeling any better?" you asked, your voice gentle. Jason paused for a moment, taking another sip of tea before answering. For him, it was nice to have someone to talk to, someone who didn’t judge him or try to fix his problems.

"Yeah," he replied, "A bit. Talking about it helps, I guess." You softly smiled, “You can always talk to me Hood.”

Jason studied your face, noticing the way your soft smile and kind eyes almost made him want to spill all his deepest secrets. He couldn’t quite pin it down, but there was something about you that made him feel comfortable. Like he could trust you with his thoughts and feelings.

As he took another sip of tea, he found himself questioning whether he should reveal his real identity. It would certainly make things easier if you knew his real name… He placed the empty cup on the table, his mind still conflicted. It was a big step, revealing his identity to you. But something inside him urged him to take the risk.

“Jason’s fine.” he mumbles. You looked up at him with a curious glance, “What?”

"Forget the whole Red Hood thing,” he repeated, his voice a bit more clear this time. “You can just call me Jason.” You were stunned for a moment, you didn’t expect him to tell his name so soon— or at all for that matter. Jason could hear his own heartbeat in his chest as he waited for your reaction. Finally, you broke the silence “Then.. you can always talk to me, Jason.”

"Thanks," he replied quietly, the words holding a weight he couldn’t quite explain. "Really."

Over the next several weeks, Jason continued to find himself seeking out your company, the comfort of your presence soothing his troubled mind. Every time he dropped by, he found himself slowly letting down more and more of his walls. The rough exterior he wore like a protective suit was slowly replaced with a softer, more vulnerable one.

In all his years of being Red Hood, of being a vigilante, he had never allowed himself to get close to someone in that way.

But as he spent more time with you, he found himself slowly questioning that belief. The more he got to know you, the more he realized that maybe he was wrong. Maybe love wasn’t a weakness, but a strength. Maybe it was something that could actually make him feel alive for once.

Jason avoided the idea of love, convinced that it was something to be feared and avoided. He had witnessed the pain and heartbreak it could cause, both in his own life and in the lives of others.

And yet, as he got to know you better and better, he found himself gradually starting to question this belief. Your presence had begun to erode the walls he had built around his heart, revealing a vulnerable side of him that he had long thought dead.

He felt his hard stone heart soften around yours.

You opened the blinds on your window, looking at the snow up ahead. “I wonder when spring will come.” you commented. He leaned back in the couch, stretching out his legs in front of him. "Spring can't come soon enough," he muttered, his voice slightly gruff but lacking its usual edge. "I'm getting tired of freezing my ass off every night."

“Well, it’s already the start of the year.” you said.

Jason let out a scoff, his eyes drifting towards the calendar on your wall. Sure enough, the first month of the year was already marked off. "Yeah, and spring is like three months away," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's still a long way to go."

You sighed, “Right.” you said as you closed the blinds. Jason watched as you closed the blinds, shutting out the snowy landscape outside. The room seemed oddly devoid of color without the light filtering through the glass. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "At least the days are getting longer again," he pointed out, a hint of optimism in his voice. "The nights will get shorter eventually."

"Yeah, that's true," you agreed, "Soon we'll be complaining about how it's too hot instead of too cold."

"Yeah, and then we'll be wishing for winter again," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Never satisfied, are we?" You then remembered something, “Oh, by the way— look what I got for Christmas.” you pulled a box and opened the lead to reveal the record player. "A record player, huh?" he said, a "Who gave you that?"

“My dad,” you replied, “my mom gave me vinyls too.” you smiled as you pulled out a few of them. He leaned closer, peering at the titles you had pulled out. "Let me see..." he said, reaching out to take one of the records from your hand.

You handed him the record, and Jason carefully examined the album cover, running his fingers over the worn edges. He let out a soft scoff as he saw the cover. "Aerosmith, huh?" He said, ”I see your parents have good taste."

You chuckled at his comment, a smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, my dad's a big fan," you replied. "He's always saying that '70s and '80s rock is the best music." you took out some jazz records, “There's these too.”

"Jazz? Your parents really know what they're doing. Good taste in music, that's for sure." he said. You smiled, “I didn’t take you for a jazz guy.”

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he scoffs, his eyes flickering back to you. You took the record from his hands, “Do you want me to play it?” you asked.

“Go for it.” he replied.

You crouched as you carefully placed the record on the turntable, setting the needle gently down. The soft crackle of the vinyl filled the room before the smooth, melodious sounds of the jazz instrumental began to play. You stood back up and looked at him, “What do you think?” Jason listened to the music, a thoughtful expression on his face as he soaked in the mellow tones. "It's nice," he replied.

Your expression softens, “My parents loved dancing to this, I’m glad they gave it to me.” Jason looks at your expression, "You must have a lot of good memories with them.”

"I remember watching them dance to this in the living room. They were so in sync back then, like they were made for each other." Jason listens to your words and pauses for a bit, he then stands up. “Do you want to dance?”

You sheepishly smiled “Oh— no I’m good I don’t know how to dance.” Jason extends his hand, "Dancing isn't exactly rocket science, you know," he said. "I'm sure I can teach you a thing or two. I’ll take the lead.”

He wasn’t lying, he had a lot of experiences dancing in Bruce’s Galas. "C'mon," he extends his hand further, "It's easy, trust me. I've had plenty of practice." You were complementing to take his hand or not, you then gave up as you took his hand.

Jason smiled as you placed your hand in his. He gently pulled you closer to him, his other hand finding its way to your waist. "Just follow my lead," he instructed, his eyes darting to you.

The music continued to play in the background as Jason slowly began to move, his feet guiding you through the steps. He kept his grip on your waist light but firm, his body slightly brushing against yours with each step. “Like this?” you asked sheepishly. Jason nodded, "Yeah, just like that, doll.”

He moved a bit closer to you, adjusting the position of your other arm.

You huffed, “Last time I did this was like.. high school prom.” Jason huffs, finding your comment amusing. He twirled you around slightly, the movement fluid and elegant. "I'm honored that you're dancing with me instead of some prep school kid.” You stumbled slightly at the unexpected twirl, laughing as you clutched onto him for balance. "I think I prefer dancing with you over some sweaty teenager.”

He huffs, "And why's that?"

“Because I like you.” you simply said.

His heart lurched in his chest at your words, your casual confession sending a flutter through his entire body. "You do, huh?" he asked quietly. “Why would I lie?” you answered. Jason let out a huff, his expression softening as he looked at you. "I don’t know, people lie all the time,” he said, as he looked down. His grip on you grew firmer, his hand on your waist pulling you closer. "But you sound sincere enough."

The air between you felt thick, the music now almost background noise. Jason's eyes were locked with yours, his expression unreadable yet somehow more open than you'd ever seen before. He took a step closer, his chest now touching yours as he gently continued to move you both in time with the music.

Your head then moved to lean on his chest. He held you close, his heartbeat steady and strong under your touch. Slowly, he leaned his head down, his chin resting on the top of your head. It was a vulnerable gesture, one that somehow felt more intimate than the dancing.

The only sound in the room was the steady thump of his heart against your ear and the soft, soothing tones of the instrumentals.

This was love. The feeling of your body against his, the way you leaned on him so trustingly, the sound of his heartbeat in your ears. It all felt so... right. He held you close, his arms encircling your frame as he continued to move with you to the music, his heart full and conflicted.

But there was fear there too. Fear of losing this, of losing you. The thought of something happening to you, of losing this quiet moment filled him with dread. The final notes of the song faded, leaving the room in a silent, intimate embrace.

Jason continued to hold you against his chest, his chin still resting on the top of your head. He didn’t want to let go, his arms around you not loosening even slightly.

He swallowed hard, his voice a low murmur as he broke the silence. "You're a good dancer." you hummed against his chest, “Mm, thanks.” you responded.

🌊 part 2. please like and reblog!!

[w2mini]

when you wanna continue writing but you have a debate (++ research) to do…. 😔

[w2mini]

i am so embarrassed ….zz how do u talk to people… especially mutuals….. 🤒

[w2mini]

CAN YOU GUYS JUST IMAGINE THIS VIDEO AS MSBY 4 OR ADLERS I CANT DO THIS

[w2mini]

SO DIM THAT SPOTLIGHT…

for, M— maisie, or maybe even miya osamu; my twin, my superstar, and my biggest blessing.

inarizaki doesn’t need memories, nor do they need to rely on their team manager; everything that matters happens in the court anyways. but, the week you’ve disappeared from practice— they can’t help but find themselves missing you.

fem!reader, atsumu kinda clingy, writeen on 0 hours of sleep, sum1 MIGHT be ooc… AESPA FANS RISE

inarizaki doesn’t need their team manager. they’re very adamant on their independence, especially atsumu. sure, it’s nice to be coddled after a long day of volleyball, but it’s merely a bonus! they don’t rely on you, definitely…

“where’s s/o?” atsumu frowns, looking across the gym for you. “coach said she had a family emergency…” kita says, a hint of worry in his voice. osamu tilted his head in worry. “family emergency? is something wrong?”

kita sighs. “coach didn’t give any further details.” to this, atsumu whined. “whaat?! is she okay?!” he yelled out, going on a path that goes nowhere. “he just said he didn’t get any further details…” suna deadpans.

“well, we shouldn’t dwell on it right now. next week is the inarizaki winter festival… we’ve been instructed to create a promotional video with our most flashy moves as to get more people to support us during nationals.” kita explains.

atsumu rolls his eyes, hearing what a ridiculous idea it was. “setting up a video… we already have a crowd full of fans… we should be practicing…” he mumbles, not that anyone in particular cares to comment on.

“right… well, i think we should shoot atsumu’s shots first since he’s is the most popular after all” kita says, preparing the camera while ginjima had set up the tripod. “just… do a strong spike serve, okay?” he instructs as atsumu bounces the ball, preparing for his shot.

atsumu takes a deep breath, preparing for his shot; the look on his face so serious, you’d think he was in an official match. he throws the ball into the air…

before miserably missing the shot.

the silence in the gym so thick, you could cut it with a knife. until osamu broke the tension with roaring laughter. “hah! what happened to being so perfect all the time?!” osamu points at him, laughing like a middle school bully. “shut your trap! i was just thinking ‘bout somethin’!” atsumu yells back, angrily marching to retrieve his ball. “thinkin’ ‘bout what?! about how ‘ya can’t even serve properly cause your dear s/o is gone?!” osamu scoffs, not particularly set on admitting how much he’ll miss your presence this week. still, he doesn’t have much time to think about that before atsumu steers straight into osamu’s path. “you..!” atsumu huffs, grabbing osamu by his shirt collar and wrestling him.

omimi runs in between the two of them, trying to break the fight as suna records the two, turning to kita. “maybe this’ll make good promotional content, everyone loves to see these two fight...” and in response, kita can only sigh at suna’s nonchalant attitude, pressing a palm to both of the boys’ chests. “fighting won’t do anything. stop it, please.” he says, unknowingly placing a somewhat hostile tone in his words, scaring the twins into backing off of each other.

despite whatever complaints the team had, the week passed by fairly quickly and soon enough, it was the inarizaki winter festival. there were snack carts, game booths, and of course, on one of the main screens, starred the boy’s volleyball team promotional video. and, exactly as kita said, it persuaded many girls to come support the team by the time nationals starts.

as the miyas inattentively chatted with the girls carrying fans with their names on it, both their eyes roamed the festival for an excuse to leave— when the stage announced a name they were all too familiar with.

“when is s/o returning? it’s already been a week, and she hasn’t returned, much less answer any of our calls…” kita asks, clearly worried for your wellbeing. coach kurosu can’t help but let out a slight smile, waving off the boy’s concerns. “she’s fine. in fact…” he trails off, turning to the stage.

confused, kita furrows his brow, and follows his gaze as to what he could mean.

“and, without further ado..! s/o from class 3-4, performing a solo cover of supernova by aespa!”

even from how scattered they were across the fair, they all froze, looking for each other as if to silently ask ‘is this real..?’. the lights slowly flashed onto you, as you sang the lyrics in what they could only think would be recognizable korean. hell, even if it was absolute nonsense, you’d still sound amazing.

your distinct and sharp dance moves were complimented by the cropped black tee and the baggy jeans you wore, making you look absolutely graceful as you danced. even the very fact that you were able to wear those kinds of clothes in the middle of december was commendable enough.

sparklers popped from the edges of the stage, as if you were at your very own solo concert, the lights dimmed to from white, to purple, to blue, as confetti streamed down. and when it came to an end, the audience roared in cheer.

you waved to everyone and bowed respectfully before running off the stage. the entire team was more than shocked to see that, ‘family emergency’, as if! almost every single one of then dropped what they had been previously doing and ran to the back of the stage, ready to praise you.

“s/o, that was incredible!” atsumu yelled, giving you a big hug before yelling at you. “why’dya leave us for a week?!” he huffed. “ahaha… practice, of course! coach had to cover for me…” you giggled, shivering a bit from how cold the snow was. “you… don’t wear revealing clothes in winter, you’ll catch a cold…” osamu sighed, wrapping his tracksuit around you.

kita went over to you, observing your condition. “i’m glad you’re well, s/o. i was starting to get worried when you wouldn’t answer our calls. your performance was amazing.” he smiled. aran agreed, greeting you with a soft slap on your back. “you did great! the way you did this..! and then suddenly you..!” he fumbles, imitating your dance moves.

it seems he’s exhilarated just by watching you perform…

and finally, suna makes it over to the backstage, giving you a thumbs up and a smile. “you did great. i only recorded halfway…” he says disappointedly, looking over the clip he took. “pfft, that’s okay, suna…” you shrug. “i’m really glad to be back with you guys, though” you smile contentedly.

aran glared at you as if you dishonored his family, “what are you even talking about?! with moves like that, you shouldn’t be stuck being a volleyball team manager; you’ve gotta become an idol! in front of millions!” he encourages you, before atsumu argues back. “haah?! like hell! she’s gotta stay here with us!”

“it’s her life, she should have control over what she does in life.” kita says, in an attempt to mediate. sadly, his attempt falls on deaf ears as the two argue like a married couple bickering on their child’s future.

you laugh, missing the chaos in your life. “hahah… i don’t think i’m gonna perform again anytime soon… it was terrifying, not to mention— so much effort. for now, i guess i’m stuck here with you guys…”

that wouldn’t be a problem though. not when it’s you.

inarizaki doesn’t need the memories. cherishing the present is much better anyways. but, maybe it is pretty nice to have a team manager. especially when they’re as talented as you.