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it’s sad to see you go, but thank you for all you have done and written! wishing you the best with the new ventures in your life ❤️

thank you friend ❤

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This blog is now officially inactive

ok so I thought that it’s about time i officially announce that i’ll no longer be writing for this blog. It’s mostly a combination of losing my interest in writing stuff for haikyuu, becoming busier in my personal life and just not feeling like i belong in the fandom anymore. I did try to get back into writing for this blog several times but the interest is just not there anymore. I do have a lot of WIPs that have collected dust in my drafts so it kinda sucks that i’ll never finish them. This blog wont be deleted tho bc i did put a lot of love into it, it’s just that nothing will be posted on here from now on.

If you’ve followed this blog then thank you - although it’ll now be archived, let it be known that a certain point in time, this fandom, blog and its followers brought an angsty university student a lot of joy that she needed at the time. Thank you so much for everything ♡ Take care and keep smiling!

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haikyuu motos -> karasuno + nekoma + shiratorizawa + seijoh + date tech + johzenji

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01101000 01110100 01110100 01110000 01110011 00111010 00101111 00101111 01111001 01101111 01110101 01110100 01110101 00101110 01100010 01100101 00101111 01100100 01010001 01110111 00110100 01110111 00111001 01010111 01100111 01011000 01100011 01010001

did you really just rick-roll me in binary??

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Ok ok but listen to this: Imagine a Coraline au where s/o is tired of her boyfriend Osamu being so closed off and distant. Until she finds a door that leads to a better world with a nicer more charming...Osamu? No this boy is different. He’s identical to Osamu except the blonde hair so stark in contrast to her boyfriend’s own grey. He calls himself Atsumu and promises to be a better partner, a perfect partner. How can s/o refuse?

omg GRACE!!!! This is making me RABID. 

Warnings: Yandere, Manipulation, Kidnapping

Osamu is the picture perfect, textbook boyfriend every girl dreams of. He cooks well, he’s polite, he’s kind, he’s handsome. There’s really not much you can complain about and yet, behind closed doors when it’s just the two of you, you feel lost and alone. You’ve always known Osamu was on the quiet and reserved side, but you had assumed that once you two started dating he would warm up to you, open up, be more interactive. 

How wrong you were. 

The silence you had once found peaceful is now suffocating and you can barely swallow the delicious dinner Osamu had cooked as only the sounds of your cutlery and chewing fill the air. You’re tired, so tired, of the superficial small talk, the silent nods and small polite smiles he gives you, the way he sleeps with his back turned to you, so far apart that you wonder what’s the point of even sharing a bed. And as your boyfriend falls fast asleep, you silently get up and exit the room, restlessness keeping you awake as you make yourself a calming cup of tea in the kitchen. 

You open the pantry in your search for the container of chamomile only to pause when you notice a small door you’d never noticed before inside. Granted, Osamu is usually the cook, but surely you would have noticed this before even in the few times you rummage around the kitchen or Osamu would have brought it up, right? And yet, nothing’s jogging your memory and your hand inquisitively turns the handle, heart racing when you see the long foreboding corridor on the other side. 

In hindsight you’ll wonder why you resisted every ringing alarm in you begging you not to continue, begging you to close the door and return to the safety of your bed. But here you are, cautiously walking down and down and down until you’re gasping as the hallway opens up into the mirror image of the apartment you share with Osamu, except...it’s everything you wanted it to be and you think you must be dreaming as you run a hand over the paint color of the walls you had wanted but that Osamu had vetoed, as you squeal and bounce on the couch you had begged Osamu to get only to once again be shut down. The list goes on and on and tears stream down your face as you look around at what could have been, what you’d sacrificed to try and compromise with your boyfriend on to keep him happy.

Emotions are clashing so much in you that you don’t hear the footsteps treading towards you, screaming when a hand soothingly rubs your upper back. You whirl around shell-shocked when you see the familiar face. 

“Osamu?” 

But when the face boisterously laughs and gives you a cheeky smile so unlike your boyfriend, you take a closer look, eyes widening when you notice the only difference in appearance between this stranger and your boyfriend is his blonde hair. 

“Osamu did you...dye your hair?” 

Your brain urges you to keep on referring to this person as Osamu and yet, in your heart you hesitate. It’s true, the similarities in appearance is uncanny, but there’s something different about the confident way this person stands, the mischievous and excited glint in his eyes, the brilliance of his smile. 

“Not sure who this Osamu is, but my name is Atsumu, babe. Now what brings you to my home?” 

A dream. It has to be a dream. And yet, you have no urge to wake up, curious to explore this “new Osamu”, this new life, anything to avoid the dull reality you’d have to return to eventually whenever you woke up. 

In hindsight you’ll realize the small warning signs that this was more real than you had ever imagined, but when you want to escape reality so badly, it’s easy to be lulled into a false security and words tumble out of your mouth as you release all the pent-up emotions you’ve kept locked up, telling Atsumu all about Osamu, your strained relationship, your loneliness. It feels good to finally have a channel to vent even if it is just to a figment of your imagination and this Atsumu just quietly listens, holding you in his arms as you cry into his chest, and you melt into his touch, your body so touch-starved from Osamu’s lack of attention that you don’t notice the way his eyes darken and the way a predatory smile etches across his face. 

But his expression schools back into caring understanding and your chest tightens at the warm fond look he sends your way, so different than Osamu’s usual stoic gaze. 

“No one deserves to feel that way. Stay with me for a bit. Hang out here for a while. I’ll show you what it’s like to have the perfect partner.”

How can you say no to those affectionate eyes? And after all, it’s just a dream. What harm would indulging in your fantasies cause? 

And so you eagerly take his hand, ignoring the way the contact feels too real, too warm to be just a normal dream and you let him whisk you away. 

Years later Osamu will still be left to wonder what happened to you. Did you run away from him? Were you dead? With no body ever found despite how frantically he searched for you, it’s hard to say. But he swears sometimes late at night, when he’s in the kitchen for a midnight snack, he can hear the faint echoes of your voice from the pantry. 

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me, having watched season four: im in love with atsumu

me, having not read the manga: whomst the fuck is atsumu

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Asahi scenario where his s/o likes to braid his hair? He needa more love pls

A/N: this was so adorable ahhhh you’ve truly blessed us all also i’ll never forgive the animators for what they did to his hairline... i’ll never forgive the japanese Word count: 542

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‘So soft,’ [y/n] cooed with a giggle, the tips of their fingers tenderly running through Asahi’s scalp. Ever since Kiyoko pointed out that he’d go bald soon if the tight bun remained, he wore his hair in a relaxed manner. [Y/n] noted to thank her the next time they met - Asahi looked even more endearing with a messily-tied low bun.

‘A-ah, thank you, [y/n]-san,’ he said shyly, cheeks dusted with a rosy tint. The  wisps of hair on his forehead and cheeks tickled his face as [y/n] brushed it away. 

‘Can I braid it?’ 

The blush along Asahi’s cheeks spread to his neck upon hearing those words - although his heart was gentle, his intimidating appearance had kept him from getting into a relationship and he wasn’t accustomed to romantic gestures. [Y/n] was his first partner and it’d only been a week since he’d accepted their confession, so it’ll be a while before Asahi’s shyness subsides. 

‘If you want to,’ he affirmed, a small smile making its way to his lips. 

[Y/n] eyed the branches above them, admiring the plum blossoms’ delicate shades of pink. Their irises slowly returned to the checkered white and red picnic blanket beneath them and the surrounding grass, noting that several petals and flowers had finally rested. 

‘I’ll add some flowers!’ [y/n] broke their brief silent demeanour, raising themselves to their feet and gathering the flowers, placing them into the crook of their arm. Once they couldn’t hold any more, they wasted no time in kneeling right behind him, undoing his bun and letting his hair cascade down his shoulders. The scent of his hair matched that of the grass following a drizzle of rain - it’ll be a perfect compliment to the spicy and sweet scent of the plum blossoms. 

‘It’s so pretty, Asahi-san,’ [y/n] let out a low giggle, dividing his hair into three sections, ‘How long have you been growing it out?’

‘Around a year and a half,’ he said, subconsciously leaning into their touch. ‘I’ve never had anyone do my hair before.’

‘So I’m the first person to braid your hair?’ they grinned widely, the flutter of a dove’s wing brushing within their chest. ‘I feel so special,’ their fingers continued to cross one section over another, the length of his hair allowing enough space for them to intertwine a large flower and a handful of petals. 

‘Well, y-you are very special to me,’ Asahi affirmed, following the advice from Tanaka and Nishinoya to say “lovey dovey things” to [y/n] since they claimed to be experts on the subject. 

‘You’re special to me too!’ [y/n] joyously said as they took their phone out of their pocket, snapping a quick picture of his braid. ‘It’s done, have a look.’

Asahi held their phone within his palms, eyes widening in wonder.  ‘You’re really good at this,’ he said in awe, his head slowly moving from one side to another to fully admire the work their fingers had done. ‘C-can you maybe... do my hair like this again before volleyball practise?’ 

‘Of course!’

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Asahi scenario where his s/o likes to braid his hair? He needa more love pls

A/N: this was so adorable ahhhh you’ve truly blessed us all also i’ll never forgive the animators for what they did to his hairline... i’ll never forgive the japanese Word count: 542

_________

‘So soft,’ [y/n] cooed with a giggle, the tips of their fingers tenderly running through Asahi’s scalp. Ever since Kiyoko pointed out that he’d go bald soon if the tight bun remained, he wore his hair in a relaxed manner. [Y/n] noted to thank her the next time they met - Asahi looked even more endearing with a messily-tied low bun.

‘A-ah, thank you, [y/n]-san,’ he said shyly, cheeks dusted with a rosy tint. The  wisps of hair on his forehead and cheeks tickled his face as [y/n] brushed it away. 

‘Can I braid it?’ 

The blush along Asahi’s cheeks spread to his neck upon hearing those words - although his heart was gentle, his intimidating appearance had kept him from getting into a relationship and he wasn’t accustomed to romantic gestures. [Y/n] was his first partner and it’d only been a week since he’d accepted their confession, so it’ll be a while before Asahi’s shyness subsides. 

‘If you want to,’ he affirmed, a small smile making its way to his lips. 

[Y/n] eyed the branches above them, admiring the plum blossoms’ delicate shades of pink. Their irises slowly returned to the checkered white and red picnic blanket beneath them and the surrounding grass, noting that several petals and flowers had finally rested. 

‘I’ll add some flowers!’ [y/n] broke their brief silent demeanour, raising themselves to their feet and gathering the flowers, placing them into the crook of their arm. Once they couldn’t hold any more, they wasted no time in kneeling right behind him, undoing his bun and letting his hair cascade down his shoulders. The scent of his hair matched that of the grass following a drizzle of rain - it’ll be a perfect compliment to the spicy and sweet scent of the plum blossoms. 

‘It’s so pretty, Asahi-san,’ [y/n] let out a low giggle, dividing his hair into three sections, ‘How long have you been growing it out?’

‘Around a year and a half,’ he said, subconsciously leaning into their touch. ‘I’ve never had anyone do my hair before.’

‘So I’m the first person to braid your hair?’ they grinned widely, the flutter of a dove’s wing brushing within their chest. ‘I feel so special,’ their fingers continued to cross one section over another, the length of his hair allowing enough space for them to intertwine a large flower and a handful of petals. 

‘Well, y-you are very special to me,’ Asahi affirmed, following the advice from Tanaka and Nishinoya to say “lovey dovey things” to [y/n] since they claimed to be experts on the subject. 

‘You’re special to me too!’ [y/n] joyously said as they took their phone out of their pocket, snapping a quick picture of his braid. ‘It’s done, have a look.’

Asahi held their phone within his palms, eyes widening in wonder.  ‘You’re really good at this,’ he said in awe, his head slowly moving from one side to another to fully admire the work their fingers had done. ‘C-can you maybe... do my hair like this again before volleyball practise?’ 

‘Of course!’

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So this blog's mostly dead now because I don't have a lot of motivation left for it. I don't know if it's because I went on a hiatus for a while earlier this year, but what I've been writing since then hasn't been getting as much attention even though there's over 2,300 people following this blog. It just doesn't seem worth spending hours writing anymore for if not many of my followers are going to read it. Plus I'm in a really bad financial situation and thought that I could do some commissions, but that hasn't worked out either.

I'm honestly not sure if anyone will even read this but if you are, please like and reblog the fanfic writer's work. It's really de-motivating when there's not much and will eventually lead to them leaving.

I'm not saying that I'm leaving this blog permanently. I might come back if things perk up again but I really doubt that. Until then, take care and keep smiling!

[haikyuu-scenarios-box]

So this blog's mostly dead now because I don't have a lot of motivation left for it. I don't know if it's because I went on a hiatus for a while earlier this year, but what I've been writing since then hasn't been getting as much attention even though there's over 2,300 people following this blog. It just doesn't seem worth spending hours writing anymore for if not many of my followers are going to read it. Plus I'm in a really bad financial situation and thought that I could do some commissions, but that hasn't worked out either.

I'm honestly not sure if anyone will even read this but if you are, please like and reblog the fanfic writer's work. It's really de-motivating when there's not much and will eventually lead to them leaving.

I'm not saying that I'm leaving this blog permanently. I might come back if things perk up again but I really doubt that. Until then, take care and keep smiling!

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All those requests in my inbox and yet,, no kiyoko scenario requests........ blasphemous, all of u

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how about a scenario where kenma wants to propose to his girlfriend???? but hes too shy :3

A/N: I LOVE KENMA SO MUCH AND THIS WAS THE CUTEST THING EVER TW: very mild manga spoilers Word count: 922

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‘Why did they make another FIFA game?’ [y/n] groaned, staring at one of the many games on the shelves, ‘there’s more than twenty of them and they just slap on a new coat of paint every time. It’s like EA just—’ 

Kenma’s attention faded; an unfamiliar occurrence to his observant nature. As the sky aged, the concealment of his anxiety faltered slowly. The wedding ring box in the front pocket of his jeans dug into his leg whenever he moved it, constantly reminding him of his upcoming proposal. He adjusted his large hoodie, ensuring that the box remained hidden beneath it. 

‘Kozume,’ [y/n] dragged out his name, leaning their head into his line of vision, ‘you keep zoning out today... do you feel sick or something?’ 

‘No,’ Kenma responded stoically, skin growing slightly pale. 

‘Are you sure?’ they asked, forehead wrinkling in concern, ‘we can go home if you’re tired, I really don’t mind.’ 

Despite that they’d been together since their second year at Nekoma, [y/n]’s tendency to worry over any sign of illness he displayed never lessened. They frequently scolded him for staying up too late to edit his YouTube videos, coaxed him into eating more greens and brushed his hair in the mornings. They also bought him a slice of apple pie whenever his nights turned melancholic, did a celebratory dance every time he secretly let them win at multiplayer games (“I can’t believe I just beat a pro gamer!”), pecked his cheeks until they grew warm with a teenage shyness—

‘I’m fine, stop worrying,’ Kenma assured, ‘have you spotted anything interesting?’ he changed the subject, gesturing to the array of video games in front of them.

‘Nothing we don’t already own,’ [y/n] said, pulling out their phone and taking note of the time. ‘We should go get lunch. Onigiri Miya is closeby, so let’s just head there.’

“Do it now," Kenma’s brain blurted, “wait, hold on, don’t do that. Proposing in a game store is a horrible idea."

‘Okay,’ he muttered.

‘Let’s take that route over there!’ [y/n] said excitedly, quickly heading towards a path encompassed by a round garden arch. The arch was covered with wisteria vines whose flowers hung downwards, the small gaps between their leaves allowing a few beams of sunlight to escape through.

‘I know you don’t like going this way because it’s longer, but it’s too late now,’ [y/n] feigned an innocent smile once they both set foot on the path. It was no wonder they got along with his childhood friend - they shared his sly streak. Kenma was forced to follow.

“There's no one here... now is the best time," Kenma thought, ceasing his strides, ‘[y/n]... we’ve been together for a very long time now...’ he paused, paralysis suddenly striking his throat. He dipped his fists into the pockets of his hoodie, toying with the box through the fabric in a feeble attempt to alleviate his apprehension. Kenma falsely predicted that asking [y/n]’s parents for their blessing would be the stressful part. A polite and financially stable man who possessed an unwavering love for their child? Of course they gave it to him ecstatically.

Asking [y/n] proved to be the stressful part.

‘Yeah, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Seven years,’ they beamed.

“No, don’t ask now. But you’ve been holding on to that box all morning, you can’t keep it there forever—”

‘Do you remember the “pudding head” nickname?’ [y/n] giggled, looping their arm with his and continuing their walk. Kenma’s appearance hadn’t changed drastically besides his hair, which was now past his chin. He hadn’t bleached it in years and its natural colour returned, its tips blond and the back portion messily tied into a small bun. ‘You went from sadako, to blond, to pudding—’

Kenma’s gaze was fixated on [y/n], their words completely drowned for the nth time. He couldn’t recall an occasion where his ears disliked the sound of their voice; their words, their laughter, their gasps, their sighs. His thumbs lingered over every physical imperfection of theirs whenever he held their face within his palms, and he adored every single one since those features belonged to them. Them, them, them; constantly drifting within his thoughts and sending ripples of ease each time. 

[Y/n] was still reminiscing distant memories, a nostalgic grin tugging the corners of their mouth upwards.

“They are truly beautiful.” 

‘[Y/n],’ Kenma stopped once more, prompting [y/n] to turn around to face him. Glowing hues of gold speckled their face, brightening the details of their irises - the same ones he fell for years ago.

‘Yes?’ they asked after a short pause, prompting him to dig into his pocket and pull out the box. The moment he held it in front of him, most of his energy began to go towards maintaining his hands steady. Lavender, mauve and violet hung above and around them, releasing the occasional flutter of petals that would swim amongst the waves of the gentle breeze. When one entangled itself between the strands of [y/n]’s hair, Kenma raised a hand to delicately brush it away, the tips of his fingers fleetingly stroking their cheek as they returned to their original position on the box.

‘I... really love you,’ Kenma uttered with a tender smile, slowly opening the box and revealing the ring within, ‘and... I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’ 

‘Kozume...’ tears fell past [y/n]’s waterline, a quiet sniffle leaving their nostrils as a wide grin painted their lips, ‘I do too.’ 

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💌 when u get this u have to answer with 5 things u like about yourself, publicly. then, send this ask to 10 of ur fav followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool) 💌💖

Ahhh thank you, this is so sweet ;-; ♡ 

I’m young at heart, so I like that I can find joy in very simple things. 

I’m good at making pretzels.

I make hella nice tea.

I have good fashion sense. 

my lips are p lush 😎

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Could I please request some short rainy day anatomy (or biology, even biochemistry) studying with Tsukki scenario? Thank you!!! I hope thats fine! Have a nice one!

A/N: i despise chemistry lmao so I hope you don’t mind that I went with anatomy!  Word count: 431

_______

‘The paella,’ [y/n] said proudly, awaiting Tsukishima’s approval. 

‘The knee bone, [y/n]. Not the dish,’ he sighed with a mild irritation as he placed the flashcards on the desk, ‘we’ve just gone over this’—Tsukishima pulled out the diagram from the drawer—‘the kneecap is called the patella. The femur is the thigh bone. Then you’ve got the tibia, the medial bone, and the fibula, the lateral bone,’ he explained, pointing the sharpened tip of his pencil to each bone. 

They let out a long groan in frustration, burying their head between their arms on the desk. The loud pitter-patter of the rain against the window was no longer relaxing, but agitating and infuriating to their overwhelmed brain. ‘I just don’t understand it!’ 

‘Well, you need to. We’ve got a quiz next week,’ Tsukishima said stoically, ‘those names are all literal latin words. It’s not hard.’ 

‘I’m not as smart as you, alright? It’s hard for me,’ [y/n] snapped, suddenly raising their head to face him. Regret began to swell within their chest for taking a college preparatory class. ‘I’m going to fail, Tsukki,’ they said with a cracked voice, eyes and nostrils growing uncomfortably warm.

‘Don’t cry,’ he said with a low voice, ‘you’re a visual learner, right? We’ll print out the diagram on an A3 sheet of paper and stick it onto a wall you’re always looking at. Maybe on top of your desk or near the bathroom mirror.’ 

‘Okay…’ they sniffled, wiping away the tears at the corner of their eyes with the back of their hand, ‘but… can we cuddle for a bit? Please?’ 

Tsukishima glanced at the plain clock on the adjacent wall, pretending to act indifferent to the request. He adored holding [y/n] close to his body and enveloping their form within his arms - he wouldn’t say that explicitly, though. Plus, the rain sure did have the charm of coaxing one to sleep… 

‘I guess,’ Tsukishima shrugged, ‘we haven’t taken a break in almost an hour and a half,’ he pointed out, proceeding to lay down on the bed. [Y/n] slowly placed themselves on top of him, their left ear and forearms pressed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around them, burying his face into the crown of their head. Their chest rose and fell against him and their soft breathes began to merge with the gentle clatter of the raindrops against the window. After a couple of minutes, Tsukishima caught a peek of [y/n]’s face and saw that their eyelids were drawn shut, mouth slightly agape.

It wouldn’t be that irresponsible if he let the cosiness persuade his eyelids to draw shut, too.

[haikyuu-scenarios-box]

Hello, 5 reasons to love daichi, terushima, ushijima and tanaka. Thank you

A/N: there’s way more than five 

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Daichi

He’s really good at reading your mood. You don’t have to explain how you feel. 

Being the captain of the volleyball team led him to become reliable and dependable. There’s not a thing he can’t do - you can always count on him. 

Daichi’s a pretty responsible and caring person, which means that he’ll make sure that your sleeping schedule stays on track, you eat three meals a day and he adjusts your posture whenever you’re leaning too much towards your computer. 

If he’s doing chores and he’s got some spare time on his hands, he’ll do yours too. 

Makes really amazing tea and coffee.

Terushima

This man will always make you laugh with his shenanigans. There’s never a dull moment with him. 

Terushima somehow makes the most mundane activities joyful, whether it be folding laundry or putting away the dishes. 

Very physically affectionate. He’ll always touch you in one way or another. 

Takes interest in your interests. He’ll willing to try almost anything for you.

He frequently takes you on surprise adventures. Don’t be too surprised when he tells you that you’ll both be going to Tokyo Dome City on your week-off.

Ushijima

You can always depend on him to keep your grounded and sensible. The number of stupid decisions you make will significantly decrease when you’re in a relationship with him.  

Does all the grocery shopping and doesn’t forget a thing. 

He’s got a good head on his shoulders. It’s not unusual for him to remind you to not lose sight of what’s important. 

Seeing Ushijima constantly push himself to improve his skills motivates you to do the same. You both wordlessly encourage each other.

Doesn’t toss and turn in his sleep or steal the blanket.

Tanaka

He’s so physically affectionate and frequently expresses his love for you, either through words or actions. You’ll never feel unloved. 

Constant genuine compliments, regardless of whether you personally think you look good or not. 

If you ever start self-deprecating (even if it’s masked as a joke), prepare yourself for many reassuring words. Tanaka absolutely adores you and will not stand to hear you talk about yourself so terribly.  

Tanaka will always be your number one fan. He’ll encourage you to pursue whatever interests you’ve got. 

Pretty protective. Just give him the signal and he’ll throw hands.

[haikyuu-scenarios-box]

Haikyuu Horrors — Week 2🔪

Demon — DemonKing!Oikawa Tooru x FallenAngel!Reader

Previous Week: Wendigo — Kuroo Tetsurou x GenderNeutral!Reader 

TW: fire, mentions of torture, religious references, blasphemy i mean seriously demon!oikawa is in love with u ofc it’s gonna be blasphemous

Word count: 2,370

UNDER THE CUT

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One of the many debates in Heaven was why the number of demon contracts skyrocketed as centuries passed. As [y/n] poured the hot tea from the pot into their cup, they recalled their answer - mortals were simply hollow without greed. Koushi’s healing wasn’t enough, Azumane’s protection wasn’t enough, Kiyoko’s beauty wasn’t enough and Daichi’s wisdom wasn’t enough.

But the demons… their services fully relieved whatever emotional or superficial famine mortals were undergoing. They went beyond what a mortal desired and for that, they gained their soul in exchange for temporary pleasures. [Y/n] figured that Tooru - the king that oversaw the sixth circle of Hell - was relishing in the torture he subjected those that were damned to reside in his realm for entirety. 

Keep reading

[haikyuu-scenarios-box]

how about a scenario where kenma wants to propose to his girlfriend???? but hes too shy :3

A/N: I LOVE KENMA SO MUCH AND THIS WAS THE CUTEST THING EVER TW: very mild manga spoilers Word count: 922

_________

‘Why did they make another FIFA game?’ [y/n] groaned, staring at one of the many games on the shelves, ‘there’s more than twenty of them and they just slap on a new coat of paint every time. It’s like EA just—’ 

Kenma’s attention faded; an unfamiliar occurrence to his observant nature. As the sky aged, the concealment of his anxiety faltered slowly. The wedding ring box in the front pocket of his jeans dug into his leg whenever he moved it, constantly reminding him of his upcoming proposal. He adjusted his large hoodie, ensuring that the box remained hidden beneath it. 

‘Kozume,’ [y/n] dragged out his name, leaning their head into his line of vision, ‘you keep zoning out today... do you feel sick or something?’ 

‘No,’ Kenma responded stoically, skin growing slightly pale. 

‘Are you sure?’ they asked, forehead wrinkling in concern, ‘we can go home if you’re tired, I really don’t mind.’ 

Despite that they’d been together since their second year at Nekoma, [y/n]’s tendency to worry over any sign of illness he displayed never lessened. They frequently scolded him for staying up too late to edit his YouTube videos, coaxed him into eating more greens and brushed his hair in the mornings. They also bought him a slice of apple pie whenever his nights turned melancholic, did a celebratory dance every time he secretly let them win at multiplayer games (“I can’t believe I just beat a pro gamer!”), pecked his cheeks until they grew warm with a teenage shyness—

‘I’m fine, stop worrying,’ Kenma assured, ‘have you spotted anything interesting?’ he changed the subject, gesturing to the array of video games in front of them.

‘Nothing we don’t already own,’ [y/n] said, pulling out their phone and taking note of the time. ‘We should go get lunch. Onigiri Miya is closeby, so let’s just head there.’

“Do it now," Kenma’s brain blurted, “wait, hold on, don’t do that. Proposing in a game store is a horrible idea."

‘Okay,’ he muttered.

‘Let’s take that route over there!’ [y/n] said excitedly, quickly heading towards a path encompassed by a round garden arch. The arch was covered with wisteria vines whose flowers hung downwards, the small gaps between their leaves allowing a few beams of sunlight to escape through.

‘I know you don’t like going this way because it’s longer, but it’s too late now,’ [y/n] feigned an innocent smile once they both set foot on the path. It was no wonder they got along with his childhood friend - they shared his sly streak. Kenma was forced to follow.

“There's no one here... now is the best time," Kenma thought, ceasing his strides, ‘[y/n]... we’ve been together for a very long time now...’ he paused, paralysis suddenly striking his throat. He dipped his fists into the pockets of his hoodie, toying with the box through the fabric in a feeble attempt to alleviate his apprehension. Kenma falsely predicted that asking [y/n]’s parents for their blessing would be the stressful part. A polite and financially stable man who possessed an unwavering love for their child? Of course they gave it to him ecstatically.

Asking [y/n] proved to be the stressful part.

‘Yeah, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Seven years,’ they beamed.

“No, don’t ask now. But you’ve been holding on to that box all morning, you can’t keep it there forever—”

‘Do you remember the “pudding head” nickname?’ [y/n] giggled, looping their arm with his and continuing their walk. Kenma’s appearance hadn’t changed drastically besides his hair, which was now past his chin. He hadn’t bleached it in years and its natural colour returned, its tips blond and the back portion messily tied into a small bun. ‘You went from sadako, to blond, to pudding—’

Kenma’s gaze was fixated on [y/n], their words completely drowned for the nth time. He couldn’t recall an occasion where his ears disliked the sound of their voice; their words, their laughter, their gasps, their sighs. His thumbs lingered over every physical imperfection of theirs whenever he held their face within his palms, and he adored every single one since those features belonged to them. Them, them, them; constantly drifting within his thoughts and sending ripples of ease each time. 

[Y/n] was still reminiscing distant memories, a nostalgic grin tugging the corners of their mouth upwards.

“They are truly beautiful.” 

‘[Y/n],’ Kenma stopped once more, prompting [y/n] to turn around to face him. Glowing hues of gold speckled their face, brightening the details of their irises - the same ones he fell for years ago.

‘Yes?’ they asked after a short pause, prompting him to dig into his pocket and pull out the box. The moment he held it in front of him, most of his energy began to go towards maintaining his hands steady. Lavender, mauve and violet hung above and around them, releasing the occasional flutter of petals that would swim amongst the waves of the gentle breeze. When one entangled itself between the strands of [y/n]’s hair, Kenma raised a hand to delicately brush it away, the tips of his fingers fleetingly stroking their cheek as they returned to their original position on the box.

‘I... really love you,’ Kenma uttered with a tender smile, slowly opening the box and revealing the ring within, ‘and... I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’ 

‘Kozume...’ tears fell past [y/n]’s waterline, a quiet sniffle leaving their nostrils as a wide grin painted their lips, ‘I do too.’