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do i save up my money for textbooks or do i buy a kuroo look up figure IDK!!! 😂🙏🙏🙏

i need this shirt i need it i need need need it

still working through the cheap henna tube my friend snuck into my beach bag a few weeks ago

did this on a friend who loves sakusa ☺️👍

  looking out for you ᵕ̈       husband!timeskip!ushijima wakatoshi       x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : " tired " means nothing ⋮⋮  when ushijima virtually worships the ⋮⋮ very ground you walk on

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛     ♡ # ~830 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii─ “ not on shuffle bc it ’ s not relevant at all but i still love the song — i guess i should stoppp lookin out for youuu like i always doooo :) ”

the padding of your shoes reverberate throughout the hallway leading to your apartment door. your jacket ruffles as each trudge of your legs feels like an eternity. work today was hell.

by the time you’re stood in front of the apartment door, you let out a heavy sigh and drag a hand across your face before you go to dig for your keys in your jacket pocket.

the jingling sound they emit as you go to unlock the door rings in your ears unpleasantly. you physically cringe a little at the invasive sensation as it crashes through your brain that’s already surging with an annoying headache.

you need to lay the fuck down. now.

after you crack open the door and slip your way into the apartment—too lazy to even open the door all the way—you notice the light at the entrance that also doubles as your apartment’s small kitchen’s light was already on. the rest of the lights are off, though.

in the dim lighting, first you see a familiar pair of sneakers already neatly placed in their spot on the shoe rack.

second, however, you also notice a duffel uncharacteristically left haphazardly on the hardwood floor.

third, you glance up and see ushijima’s back. his arm reaches up as he rubs the back of his neck tiredly. the lighting highlights how his back muscles flex as he tries to rub away the soreness. you can see in the way his tall frame sinks down a bit and how his head hangs low that today’s practice must’ve taken something out of him.

he turns around at the sound of your arrival. when he looks up at you, for a moment you both look at each other, and in your eyes you exchange the same expression in an unspoken language: exhaustion.

“welcome home, darling,” his worn-out voice mumbles out just barely enough to reach your ears.

“hey toshi… you just got back, too?”

“mhm.”

and he starts making his way over to you. once he’s in front of you, he casts a shadow over you from his sheer height blocking out the kitchen light. most would find the image threatening—scary, even. it was probably the sight many volleyball players saw as your husband went to block their points up at the net during countless games.

but even in the dark, you can find his eyes. and whenever they’re gazing at you, they’re nothing but soft.

the light quickly reappears as he kneels down. at your feet, he starts to help you out of your shoes. you briefly feel the cold metal of his wedding band nudge against the skin of your ankle as he does so and your hand finds its way to gently card through the hair on the top of his head, a mix between a sigh of relief and a scoff in disbelief escaping your lips.

he stands back up and your hand is forced to retreat to sliding down to cup the side of his face as he returns to his full height. he reaches around you to help take your work bag, and you brush your thumb over his cheekbone,

“aren’t you tired too?”

his actions pause for a moment—just as he’s about to help you shrug off your heavy coat—as he replies back with a curt,

“yes.”

that wasn’t going to stop him, though—your toshi. you knew this. he never failed to remind you of his love for you: a love that even trounced his love for volleyball.

he reminded you through his constant doting over you.

or late night confessions admitted in a hush by your ear.

“you’re the best thing that’s happened to my life, i love you.”

or like right now. always the gentleman, he resumes gathering your jacket in his arm. but before he can step away from you to hang up your stuff, both your hands bring his face closer to ensnare his lips with yours.

as you kiss—one mixed with a sickening sweetness and a very late-night laziness—you feel the pressure of his big hand on the small of your back. he’s still holding your bag, and it slightly sways and bumps the back of your legs, making you smile into your kiss.

when you pull away, your husband looks adorably dazed as he was caught off by your sudden gesture. he looked the same way on your wedding day after you sealed your vows with a kiss, as well. some things never change.

you’ll never get tired of this. you’ll never get tired of how ushijima always looks out for you. you’ll never get tired of rewarding him with all the love you can muster to throw right back at him.

you feel compelled to give him another quick peck, and for a short second after you do, you admire how his eyes flutter and a tiny smile tugs at his lips.

“takeout tonight?” you suggest with a fond smile.

“takeout tonight,” he dumbly nods, subtly hugging you closer to him.

love ya to bits sav darling!!! <<333

us:

I’ve been silent for too long and can no longer bear to keep this inside: @kuroppiii is a good person and deserves many good things.

sorry guys i’ve been listening to beabadoobee’s new album on loop while wistfully looking out my bedroom window

but now i’ll work on my drafts tonight and post some more writing i promise 🤞

i was telling all my friends this “did you know 🤓☝️” alllll throughout olympic season i wish i was joking

art history nerd here! when the notre dame burned a few years ago, the most damaged area was the roof. y'know who has a very extensive 3D model of the roof? ubisoft, for assassin's creed! ubisoft has been very involved in the restoration of the notre dame, pledging over half a million euros in support. so yep, that is most likely an assassin's creed dude carrying the olympic torch!

just spent all day cleaning depression room and i’m still not done 😐

FUCKING FINALLY 🍾🎉🎊

somebody please make an edit of kuroo to frank ocean’s american wedding i’m begging on my hands and knees please

MY FRIEND’S BLAMING ME FOR PUTTING KUROO EDITS ON HER FYP DUDE IT’S NOT ME 😭😭😭

yeah so they were right 💀

lowkey i might watch the iron claw rn but my guy bsfs told me it’s sad and they think i’ll cry and i fear they might be completely right

mr krabs!!! i have an ideaaa!!!

i say we need more reddit style smaus SO SUE ME

[masterlist] new notification!

msby!atsumu x reader Atsumu is quick to act when a misleading photograph of him and you (the Jackals' nutritionist) gets published. But soon enough, he starts to regret it. Some would tell him that he's made his bed, and that he needs to lie in it. Atsumu's not so sure. He decides to ask the internet. It's only too happy to help.

a/n: a cute, silly little fic for my fav fake blond. probably one chapter weekly?

Chapters

Intro

One

Two

Three

Four

💖 bonus chapter

💖 end notes

YOU SOOO DID HIM JUSTICE LIKE WHY AM I BLUSHING RN

CONGRATS ON 100 JULES 😚🫶 so so so happy for you mwah

for your event, how about ice cream and pillow fight?

all the love, ro! <3

LAZY MORNINGS (FT. KUROO TETSURŌ)

ice cream → kuroo tetsurō

pillow fight → lazy mornings

synopsis: the relaxing morning you share after kuroo arrives back home from the airport. post-timeskip, pre-established relationship, fluff

word count: 975

your favorite days are the ones kuroo comes home.

because of his job, he is often on the road. you don’t mind; he is doing what he loves and is pretty darn good at it. but you miss him sometimes. you used to always ask him to tell you when he was flying back to japan--even if it was just for a little while--so you could meet him at the airport and you could go out for his favorite salt-grilled pacific saury. but recently he’s started surprising you; sometimes in the evening you’ll hear a knock at your door and it’s him, or you’ll wake up in the morning with him snoring next to you. when this happens, your heart will always skip a beat before you fully comprehend that it’s him, he’s here. and even though he’ll have to leave again soon, he’s here with you right now.

yesterday was one of those days. right at dinnertime, when you were feeling a little too lazy to cook and was seriously considering just ordering takeout, you heard a knock on the door. you opened it and it was him, him with his suitcase, bundled up in a jacket to brave the cold air of the plane, a fresh bouquet of roses in one hand and a bag of your favorite takeout in the other, tired but still grinning that cheshire-cat smile you’d grown to love.

you gasped and leapt into his arms. he chuckled and wrapped his arms around you too. “hey baby,” he said softly. “did you make dinner? i ordered you takeout on my way here in case you wanted some.”

gosh, he knew you so well. he gently walked you back into your house, handing you the roses and setting the takeout on the living room table. “i wanted to surprise you,” he said--which is what he always says when he randomly shows up at your door. “i got you so much stuff from france--macarons, eiffel tower keychains, a beret. . .”

you pulled him down beside you onto the couch. “stay here and just let me look at you.” it was half a demand and half a plea.

he smiled gently. “i would, but i’m dirty from the airport. let me go shower, baby, and then we’ll pop on a movie, okay? besides, you’ll get me for a lot longer this time--i’m staying in japan for the next few months.”

you started tearing up then. your kuroo, by your side for the next few months? you could hardly believe it. this was why your favorite days involved him coming home.

actually, you take that back. your favorite days are the ones after kuroo comes home.

today is saturday, which is good because you both get to relax for two whole days before you have to go to work. you wake up to shining sun rays on your face, birds chirping outside your window, and a heavy weight--which you now recognize as kuroo’s arm--splayed across you.

he’s still asleep. a glance at the clock tells you it’s ten. you breathe deeply, taking in kuroo’s familiar scent. he’s snoring lightly, eyes closed peacefully. you run your hand through his hair mindlessly.

he slowly cracks one eye open. “hey, baby,” he says groggily (in that sleepy voice that’s half cute and half hot).

“hey,” you whisper. “did you sleep well?”

he hums. he’s always jet-lagged, a consequence of travelling all over the world. “what time is it?”

“ten,” you say. “we have time.” the days after he comes home are usually spent like this unless you have work; you lay in bed together for hours until one of you has to pee or you get hungry.

he smiles sleepily. “i missed you.”

“i missed you too.” you smiled at him. “but now you get to stay with me for at least until december. where are you going next?”

he frowns. “don’t wanna think about that,” he admits, burying his face in your neck. “just wanna hold you.”

you suppress a smile. “dork,” you mutter.

he grunts out a protest, the sound muffled into your skin. you stay in that position for several minutes. you hear kuroo eventually fall back asleep, and he snores for another hour before waking up. you’ve managed to push him off of you and go to the bathroom to freshen up; now you’re sitting peacefully in bed reading a book. as soon as you had gotten back from the bathroom, kuroo’s arm had found its way back around your waist.

he groans a little before fully opening his eyes. “i like this,” he murmurs. “relaxing. i don’t usually get to spend time in bed, you know.”

you nod sympathetically. “we’ll take it easy today,” you assure him. “staying in, movies, maybe takeout again. . .” as your mind drifts to which restaurant you want to order today, your stomach growls.

kuroo fights back a snort--this man stuns you sometimes, he’s in his twenties and sometimes still has the emotional maturity of a ten year old. “are you hungry?” he asks.

“a little,” you admit, your face flushing.

he brushes a lock of your hair out of your eyes. “i’ll make breakfast,” he whispers. “what are we feeling?”

you hum thoughtfully. “the tetsu special?”

the “tetsu special”--kuroo had named it--included stack of pancakes piled high with strawberries and whipped cream, a side of bacon, and a bowl of scrambled eggs. you don’t know how he does it--maybe it’s that chemistry knowledge kicking in--but kuroo’s pretty darn good at cooking, especially when he can make the pancakes from a box mix.

“sure.” kuroo stretches and rolls himself out of bed. “coming right up. you just stay here in bed, baby. i’m taking care of you today.” he winks at you.

you hide your blush behind your book. yeah. yeah, these lazy mornings are your favorite days.

A/N: oh my goodness guys, first event request is out! i'm sorry i'm sorry i hoped to get on these faster but i just now had a stroke of inspiration . . . thank you sm for requesting ro and i hope i did kuroo justice!

Image that makes you to go ‘wahoo’ and ‘yippee’!

my three halloween costumes this year

1. slutty ghostface

2. kuroo tetsuro (but if he was a bad bitch who wears baggy jeans w his jersey☝️)

3. felix catton from saltburn’s “a midsummer night’s dream” angel

from a scale of 1 to 10 how wild would it be if i decorated my self defense spray keychain with stickers

ALLLLL SIX FEET AND THREE POINT NINE INCHES

happy birthday toshi

ushijima wakatoshi hates rushing. 

his hands graze your hips, as if you are a fragile, priceless antique. you’re wearing that pretty dress that he likes on you the best, with your lips all pouty and plump in lip gloss. 

“toshi, we’re gonna be late for the dinner reservation,” you whine. 

ushijima doesn’t say anything. he drinks in the sight of your glittering eyes staring up at him and your cheeks dusted in blush. you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

he takes his time to enjoy the sights and pulls you in gently. ushijima swallows the quiet huff you let out (he knows you’re not annoyed – you never are after he tells you how beautiful you look) by kissing you, dipping his head down and letting his eyes fall shut. when ushijima pulls away, his own lips are sticky and glossy. 

your eyes are half-lidded. it takes you five seconds of dizzying silence for you to open them wide and stare up at him again. 

“toshi!” 

your eyebrows furrow. he smiles. 

“we’ll be on time, i promise. just one more kiss?” ushijima asks. 

he’s in a tailored suit that you want to unwrap button by button and touch him in places you can’t see. all six feet and three point nine inches of the most perfect man you’ve ever seen has his hands on your hips and wants to kiss you. 

“okay,” you whisper.

ushijima lowers his head again, taking his time to kiss you soft and sweet. you make it to your dinner reservation five minutes late.

i am going to consume these songs whole i am not joking

UGH SO GOOD CHLO

chapter 01. blue color grading

a/n. hi guys (imagine me saying this with a super cheesy grin). it's officially out!! first rewritten chapter of the art of film. i absolutely love this chapter. my proofreaders love this chapter. i hope all of you love this chapter. ugh i'm so excited. reblogs & comments are super super appreciated!

individual chapter content/warnings. 2nd person pov, swearing, lowercase intended, reference to food allergies, annoyingly descriptive, 1 mention of vomit, 1 vague mention of a creepy guy going thru y/n’s dresser, very teehee.

you leaned back against the soft plush of your pillow, eyes fluttering shut. twilight played softly in the background, your christmas lights hanging from your window casting a small glare against the screen. one of your cats climbed over to you and laid on your abdomen, curling into a ball while the other made itself comfortable at your feet. it was warm. the fluffy blanket and space heater kept the chilly september air at bay.

you dreaded the idea of atsumu’s friend coming to stay for a while. the last time that had happened you’d found some hungover guy vomiting into your sock drawer while going through your dresser. you’d made him vow never to have his friends you didn’t know overnight after that incident.

a soft knock on your door broke your moment of respite, the sound of knuckles rapping on wood. you sighed and sat up, a bored expression on your face.

 “come in.”

the brass doorknob turned before the door creaked open to reveal a familiar blond standing there in the hallway, an apologetic expression on his face. he stood wearing a t-shirt and a pair of joggers, a dark figure in the shadowy hallway behind him.

“your donuts are on the counter,” he said, quietly.

you just nodded and stared back at him. the dark figure behind him shifted uncomfortably. a white light lit up his face as he looked down, mindlessly scrolling through his phone in an attempt to make the situation less awkward. in the poor lighting, you could make out a tall build– taller than atsumu.. 6’2? 6’3 maybe? his skin was pale and a bit blotchy from the cold.

atsumu spoke, words coming out in a rushed tangent. “sunarin’ll behave i swear. i’ve known the guy since middle school, he won’t make a peep. promise.”

this ‘sunarin’ looked up from his phone at the familiar nickname and took a short step forward. flashes of color danced along his cheekbones, illuminated by your christmas lights. he waved and introduced himself with a curt nod, apologizing for the intrusion in the process.

suna rintaro found the contrast of your cold demeanor to the warmth and coziness of your room fascinating. you shot atsumu a bitter glare, eyebrows furrowing. suna watched you quietly as you spoke to atsumu, asking questions about how long he’d be staying and why he couldn’t go home. while atsumu rambled on about komori’s lame antics, suna’s eyes wandered around your room.

posters of your favorite musicians and actors covered the walls, intermingling with polaroids of you and your friends. a tall bookshelf sat in the corner of the room, filled to the brim with an assortment of books. little figurines decorated the shelves. plants hung from the ceiling, probably vibrantly, but it was hard to tell from the dim lighting.

you had a mildly disheveled appearance. your hair was a bit of a mess, frizzing around the crown of your head. your eyelids drooped with a mixture of exhaustion and irritability. the cats around you purred softly, nuzzling in closer to you. his eyes flashed to the television and he grimaced. he’d recognize that blue color grading anywhere. his sister had shown him clips of the movie as a very poor attempt to change his mind about watching his. it didn’t work. he’d refuse each and every time, believing each clip he was shown was somehow worse than the last. 

“‘kay, we’re gonna go to bed. night y/n, sleep well,” atsumu said, turning around to face suna, socked feet sliding against the hardwoods.

you smiled softly, choosing forgiveness. he seemed genuinely apologetic. “night, make sure to lock my door when you leave.”

atsumu clicked the lock shut without giving her a second glance and closed the door. he lazily pointed towards his bedroom and grabbed some throw blankets from the linen closet. suna quietly opened the bedroom door and glanced around.

atsumu’s room was uniquely barren compared to yours. it lacked a certain sense of mellowness. his furniture was pale in color, bedroom decorated with various accounts of volleyball memorabilia and pictures of him and his high school team. suna saw photos of himself on the walls and grimaced.

his trance was broken by a spare pillow hitting him square in the back of the head. he turned around and glared at atsumu, who was stood in the doorway with a shiteating grin on his face. he pushed past suna and dropped the remaining comfort items on the floor before collapsing in his own bed with a sigh. 

suna gave him a halfhearted glare and arranged a makeshift bed on the floor. oh, coach was going to kill him when he finds out he slept on a carpeted floor all weekend long. he laid down, hearing atsumu shuffle around under his comforter.

atsumu rolled over in bed, facing suna, whose back was turned. “do you have any food allergies?”

“what?” rintaro said, turning around. “what the hell- no? why?”

atsumu shrugged, “y/n’s makin’ breakfast tomorrow, she told me to ask you.”

“oh. no, i don’t.”

atsumu nodded, responding with only a quick “‘kay” before going back to typing away on his phone.

suna just laid on his back, shifting uncomfortably as the breaks between blankets revealed carpet that scratched at his lower back uncomfortably. he pulled his shirt down and sighed through his nose before going on his phone to mindlessly scroll through twitter once again.

his eyes grew heavy exhaustion from his long day finally seeping into his system. he drifted off to sleep, lips forming a soft pout. his dreams were a whirlwind of blues and greens, colors seeping into the stories playing behind closed eyes.

notes.

GUYSSSSSSS IT'S HERE

i had so much fun writing this

wrote the whole thing this morning

anyways.

suna rintaro is a canon twilight hater but he's literally NEVER seen it. he just knows his sister likes it and thinks its dumb

binged all of the bear s3 just now

free my girl syd for reallll 🙏🤕

HELLO??????? i really thought it was gonna stay tied between sakuatsu

KUROPPIII TSUMU SERIES HERE WE COME 😭

chat! <3 when i finish one of my ongoing series i already have an idea for a new one

with no spoilers, it has to do with boba!

i can’t decide who should be the main man though, so could you lend me some help? :)

charli xcx on girl, so confusing:

  cuteness aggression ᵕ̈       boyfie!timeskip!bokuto kōtarō       x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : your boyfriend is quite ⋮⋮  literally too cute in the mornings

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛     ♡ # 1𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

8:25 am. both you and bokuto have the day off.

you're leaning against the kitchen counter, one of bokuto's shirts loosely hanging off of your frame. as your thumb instinctively scrolls through your feed, the bubbling of hot water brewing for your morning drink sounds off next to you.

you're vaguely aware of the steam drifting up from the top of the machine when your eyes land on a post from an official msby account.

it was video where they had bokuto running around the msby locker room interviewing his teammates. the questions were along the lines of “favorite point you’ve won”, “court position you would try for a day”, “how do you wear your kneepads off court”, yadayadayada—

the questions didn’t really matter to you at the current moment. what caught your attention, of course, was your lovely boyfriend.

you watched his bright eyes as he excitedly talked to the camera and as they were trained on his teammates while he intently listened to their responses.

the same eyes that light up whenever he sees you, without fail. or the ones that glowed a warm amber when the afternoon sun hits them just right. ones you’ve seen on countless nights as bokuto lies on top of you with his chin softly resting on your chest, as he looks up at your face and his eyes dart over each and every feature on your face in utmost admiration.

and in the video he also smiles—a toothy and hearty smile where it’s so wide that little dimples appear at the sides of his face and some of his bottom teeth peek out from behind his bottom lip. his lips are rosy and full of life, just like him. and only you would know how soft they are, too, and the exact feeling of how they stretch into a content grin against your own lips when you kiss. it’s a smile you could never grow tired of.

everything about him is so charming. he’s adorable. some days you wish you could hide him from the world and keep him and his cuteness all to yourself.

and suddenly the urge just hits you—to hold him and hug him and smother him with affection. to cup his face in your hands and squish his cheeks so you can plant a big kiss on his lips. to nip the tip of his nose just to hopefully incite his laugh that brings music to your ears.

and guess what? you can do exactly that, right at this instant.

completely neglecting your brewing drink and leaving your phone laying flat on the countertop, you shuffle your way back through the apartment to you and bokuto’s shared bedroom.

you peek your head in and see he’s still out cold. the sunlight makes its way through the window blinds to cast shapes on your boyfriends bare chest, exposed by the sheets that he’s shoved down to his lower torso in his sleep.

a ray of light falls on his face, where his eyes are closed, his eyelashes brush against the tops his cheeks, and his mouth hangs open as he sleeps in and snores away.

the black and gray streaks of his hair are rendered messy and tussled as his head sinks into the pillow under it.

the other day you read about the phenomenon of, “cuteness aggression: desires to squeeze, crush, pinch, or even bite an object of our affection. scientists think it is a way we cope with intense positive emotions.”

yup. now you totally get it.

you approach his side of the bed and crawl on top of him, brushing your hands against his chest as you lean down to immediately start peppering his face in kisses. surely he’d wake up, and although you knew the previous night’s practice had taken a lot out of him and he deserved to sleep in for a little longer… the urge. the urge to gather him up in your arms with all the love in the world was simply just too strong.

his eyes not yet open, but his hands now moving to blindly search for your waist, his voice is groggy and rough as he mumbles, “this is an awesome way to start off my day.”

you let up with the face kisses for a moment and fight back a giggle as bokuto blinks one eye awake to get a good look at you first thing as he wakes up, “mornin’ gorgeous.”

too cute. butterflies fly around in your stomach while, firmly but gently, your hands go to hold his head in place as you resume to kiss him all over even more.

“what’s the occasion, baby?” he asks amidst being attacked by your displays of affection, his hands playing with the hem of his shirt on you.

“nothin’, just missed you,” you say between kisses, softly and just barely above a whisper.

“well i’m right here,” he smiles before stretching himself out under you, letting out a small whine as his body comes to before the day properly starts.

as he does this, you tap a finger on his nose and laugh when his face scrunches up in reaction, “kō, you look real cute in the morning, you know that?”

a sound of protest escapes from his throat as his arms wrap around you and he rolls you both over. now he hovers over you, and those pretty eyes gaze down at you. if only you could swim in those eyes and all the love they carry for you, forever.

but bokuto shifts so he can kiss you, and kiss you deep. when you part, you feel your heartbeat is racing and that maybe you don’t need caffeine this morning to wake up after all. not when your boyfriend is bokuto kōtarō, who brings something so inexplicably fulfilling to your life with each day you start waking up to him and his cute bedhead—his cute everything.

“not as much as you are all the time, cutie,” bokuto lazily argues and you lightheartedly roll your eyes with a small scoff.

now it’s his turn to “cope with intense positive emotions”, as you find yourself getting smothered with love—his love—in the messy sheets of your bed at around 9 in the morning.