folklore: ғᴏʟᴋʟᴏʀᴇ ∗ ᴅᴡ (🐯 ₀₀₇)
ʟʏʀɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ, ɪ'ᴍ ᴏᴘᴛɪᴍᴜs ᴘʀɪᴍᴇ ([personal profile] folklore) wrote in [community profile] laography2015-06-19 10:27 pm

this is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill

welcome to sports hell

INLINE SKATING

BASEBALL

BASEBALL

BASEBALL

BASEBALL

FOOTBALL

SWIMMING

SWIMMING

SWIMMING

BOXING/MMA

VOLLEYBALL

VOLLEYBALL

VOLLEYBALL

VOLLEYBALL

VOLLEYBALL

VOLLEYBALL

VOLLEYBALL

VOLLEYBALL

VOLLEYBALL

VOLLEYBALL

BASKETBALL

BASKETBALL

BASEBALL

CYCLING

CYCLING
this is a call out post. you know what to do with it, i don't know why you need me to explain anything. some characters (faded on the roster) require canon review, and are technically unavailable. you can still request them, though. it'll just take me longer to get to them.

hootie: (Default)

c:

[personal profile] hootie 2015-08-18 02:12 am (UTC)(link)
[ bokuto is entirely unaware of what it is he does to people, too wound around the extremes in his own mind to really have time to notice much at all. it's not that he wouldn't want to, he means no ill will towards anyone he meets at all. it just doesn't even come to mind, that there are people hurting, that there are people suffering, that there are people who don't know what it means to really feel happy - just as he feels sad.

it's not an active ignorance as an accidental one. because bokuto perceives and picks up on a lot, notices when his team is down and when it needs to be picked back up again. there are shifts to the general sense around him that he can notice and change, but when he looks out at a crowd, he doesn't think wow, i wonder if that person is having a good day, and instead just tries to ride out whichever wave he's caught.

he ends up in sync with some people more than others - kuroo, akaashi, hinata - people who come into his life and fall in step with him. enough so that he can see the way their left foot sways out where his sways in. he noticed that about akaashi, a long time ago - the days when he'd come in with a heavier dip to his shoulders, the practices he would insist on wearing sleeves. just the little things, that bokuto didn't understand, but knew that if he kept closer to akaashi that day, it'd take less time for him to relax.

akaashi is the one out of them who takes care of bokuto the most, always had. bokuto didn't realize how much he really depended on the underclassman until he was gone, and all he was left was the cold darkness of his teammates' backs. akaashi's fingers are warm, where they settle on the back of his neck, and bokuto can breathe. slowly, surely, but he's breathing. he's standing. he created the distance between them because he needed to ask the question, to make sure it was happening, and akaashi closes it again, just like always, inserting himself right into the space that bokuto didn't really want to make.

he closes his eyes, focusing on the warmth of akaashi's cheek on his own, flattening his hands against his chest. he hears the words, hears been in love with you and bokuto tenses. waits to hear the catch, waits to hear the joke, and when he doesn't get it? his hand tightens on akaashi's chest, bunching the fabric. ]


Why? [ his throat is tight, forcing the voice out in cracked and gravely bits. he takes a breath and swallows, tucking his face forward into akaashi's shoulder. ] Why me?
tolerator: © ғᴏʟᴋʟᴏʀᴇ (075)

nah

[personal profile] tolerator 2015-08-18 02:36 am (UTC)(link)
[ It would be easy, Akaashi thinks, to compare Bokuto to a wrecking ball. He swings through life much like one, regardless of which end of the spectrum he's sitting on. But it wouldn't be fair to Bokuto, not when there's so much more than just what people see. He's extremes, certainly, but no one has seen his ace and former captain console an upset first year. They haven't heard him go on and on about that moment, when he felt that volleyball was fun for him. What it meant to him. They haven't been on the receiving end of his affections, always varied and not always needed - but when it has been needed, it's helped far more than anything else has ever been.

Kenma was the mind of Nekoma. Still is, now, even with Kuroo and Yaku graduated. Bokuto was the heart of Fukurodani, the delicate but enormous heart that beat through all of their chests. And no one was spared, least of all Keiji.

So it was no surprise when he realized his affections, but it just seemed smarter to keep them to himself. It seemed smarter, to focus on their friendship, their synchronized steps, tosses, spikes. Even when he wanted to keep his distance, he could always tell when Bokuto just knew, even if he didn't know what it was about. No one knows Bokuto better than Akaashi does, he thinks, but at the same time he knows the reverse is true. That instinct of Bokuto's has helped him when dealing with people, despite being hit-or-miss a lot of the time.

He's just glad he didn't notice, for the two years that they were on the team together.

His own voice goes a little tight, as he speaks, but he uses his words sincerely. He makes sure that he says them so that Bokuto will understand, because he meant it - no one, nothing, is more important than Bokuto. He liked volleyball, before. He enjoyed playing it, liked it as an outlet and for something that he could do. But Bokuto made it into something more, made it a thing that he wanted to work hard at, to perfect to the best of his capabilities.

Bokuto breathed life into it for him, and brought brighter color into his world.
]

Because you are one of the hardest working people I've ever known, and you care so much about everything, Bokuto-san. You put so much passion into volleyball, into just living, even when you have these lows like this. [ He slides his fingers along his neck, to the hair at his nape, threading them through it as they stand there. ] You don't let it stop you, though, and you use that knowledge of what it feels like to help those around you who go through the same thing.

[ His other hand moves, and Akaashi curls his long fingers over one of Bokuto's fists, squeezing tightly. ] There's no one else who could compare to you, or that big heart of yours, not in my mind.