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[23:17] atsumu miya knows colour theory

warnings none just atsumu using a lot of nicknames

"atsumu."

humming, your boyfriend turns his head around towards your direction and finds peace within your presence as you sauntered your way to him.

"this is a very important question okay?" an interrogating expression beholds itself on your face, but atsumu only stares at the features upon it like it was the first time he'd seen a human. "atsumu. i need your answer."

"yes 'm listening, sweets."

"what's your favourite colour?"

the adoring expression atsumu wore like a badge had wore off and transforms into what you could only assume was a perplexed man sitting in front of you. he laughs.

"atsumu! i told you to answer the question this is serious." his face puffs up with a vermillion tone and he pulls you closer to his body, thick arms around your waist fitting together like jigsaw pieces.

"darling, yer so earnest about it, of course i'll laugh." your face is peppered with billions of feathery kisses, swiping him away with your hands you attempt to push him away and sulk; only to make his offense stronger and kisses you more.

"miya, answer my damn question-"

"ooh, pulling out miya are we?" teasingly, he smirks and how attractive it is to watch that stupid man in front of you lovingly mock you.

"it's not that hard of a question to answer." crossing your arms and folding your legs, you move to the other side of the couch before he scooches towards you to gift a disgustingly fat and tender kiss on your cheek.

"okay, then what's yer favourite colour my love?"

"since i'm not like you," you humph annoyedly, "green."

"then simple, mine is red."

puzzled, you unfold your arms and atsumu's cheesy smiles widens in it itself, slightly beginning to look creepy so you push your palm against his face and move him away, and he laughs before coming in to hug you once more.

"they're complementary colours, baby. it's supposed to be romantic." chuckling, his face is attached to your stomach and he lays upon your body, although the position is awkward.

"it sounds like christmas. and what are complementary colours?" disproving his point and forgetting the reason why you asked him the question in the first place, you relax your body and sit up properly for atsumu to prop his head on your legs.

"they're like colours that are opposites but they're good together. like us. and what's wrong with christmas, scrooge?" twiddling your fingers between his, he mutters and awaits your response.

"that was corny, and you only enjoy christmas because you're not the one making the christmas list for all of our friends and family." flicking his head you scold him and he winces, before bringing your fingers back and trapping them in his hands.

"now i have an excuse to hold your hand as well as provide for my own safety!" he pauses for a moment, "hey i do help with christmas shopping."

"you chose to buy fuzzy dice for samu last year."

"that was a good 1800¥ spent."

"he doesn't even own a car."

"what matters is that we spend too much money on him and last year was a cool down compared to all the rocking gifts i've got him before."

"you know what, it's fine, i'll handle the shopping but you pay for it."

"i'll accept that. now, i need to go upstairs i have super secret agent stuff to attend." he kisses the top of your head and bolts upstairs.

"miya atsumu, i know you're changing the shopping basket gifts for samu! get back down here."

a/n: my exams are ending soon thank whoever is up there

[01:21] atsumu miya has a big crush on you

warnings none!

other timestamps

you weren't surprised that he stared at her; her features so delicate, yet sharp, gentle yet so bold. envy couldn't help but knock at your door as you notice that every class you catch him staring at her: your seatmate. much like all the other people, you'd taken a liking to atsumu miya, the setter of the volleyball club.

you shared a few classes with him, but most of the time you sat apart in far distances from the room, your existence barely noticeable to his schedule. despite having a friendship with him several years back, he'd changed and drifted from you as a result of conflict in interest. blissful and short lived was the friendship, yet quality over quantity had truly reigned over that highlighted phrase, and you had come to terms with it yourself.

even though you had been friends with atsumu for two years as early teenagers; he made life feel like rainfall on a drought, sunshine in blistering winters. he'd provided you with chunks of happiness no other person could gift to you. losing him was a defeat on your behalf as you realised you weren't as important to him as you had thought.

sitting pretty your seatmate, emiko, sighed tirelessly at your cluelessness as you quietly groan at the reminder of atsumu never looking your way, when in reality it was the polar opposite.

watching you dejectedly sit every lesson beside her was a killjoy, and she'd wish you could notice that in reality atsumu had been burning holes into your face every class, and not her. although the chase was interesting to witness, it had taken far too long and she couldn't help but feel as if she'd become a wedge in the (yet to bloom) relationship.

"that ends this lesson, please make sure that all the people's names i've written on the board have handed in their assignment by tomorrow. you may all leave." like the speed of light, you pack up your books and are the first to leave the class, sparing no glance to the innocent setter waiting to grab your attention.

"miya-san," emiko calls out, "if you're going to stare at l/n-san all throughout the class, do it so they know that you're staring at them, not me."

atsumu's face burns red with embarrassment and he nods in accordance, before running towards the direction he assumed you headed. sighing yet again, emiko slowly packs her bags up and hopes that things between you and atsumu are cleared up.

a/n: this is kind of a whole like mutual pining thing but both love interests are dense and cant pick up hints ?? its really short though rip

[01:21] atsumu miya has a big crush on you

warnings none!

you weren't surprised that he stared at her; her features so delicate, yet sharp, gentle yet so bold. envy couldn't help but knock at your door as you notice that every class you catch him staring at her: your seatmate. much like all the other girls, you'd taken a liking to atsumu miya, the setter of the volleyball club.

you shared a few classes with him, but most of the time you sat apart in far distances from the room, your existence barely noticeable to his schedule. despite having a friendship with him several years back, he'd changed and drifted from you as a result of conflict in interest. blissful and short lived was the friendship, yet quality over quantity had truly reigned over that highlighted phrase, and you had come to terms with it yourself.

even though you had been friends with atsumu for two years as early teenagers; he made life feel like rainfall on a drought, sunshine in blistering winters. he'd provided you with chunks of happiness no other person could gift to you. losing him was a defeat on your behalf as you realised you weren't as important to him as you had thought.

sitting pretty your seatmate, emiko, sighed tirelessly at your cluelessness as you quietly groan at the reminder of atsumu never looking your way, when in reality it was the polar opposite.

watching you dejectedly sit every lesson beside her was a killjoy, and she'd wish you could notice that in reality atsumu had been burning holes into your face every class, and not her. although the chase was interesting to witness, it had taken far too long and she couldn't help but feel as if she'd become a wedge in the (yet to bloom) relationship.

"that ends this lesson, please make sure that all the people's names i've written on the board have handed in their assignment by tomorrow. you may all leave." like the speed of light, you pack up your books and are the first to leave the class, sparing no glance to the innocent setter waiting to grab your attention.

"miya-san," emiko calls out, "if you're going to stare at l/n-san all throughout the class, do it so they know that you're staring at them, not me."

atsumu's face burns red with embarrassment and he nods in accordance, before running towards the direction he assumed you headed. sighing yet again, emiko slowly packs her bags up and hopes that things between you and atsumu are cleared up.

a/n: this is kind of a whole like mutual pining thing but both love interests are dense and cant pick up hints ?? its really short though rip

.when you were mine - sakusa kiyoomi

.pairings sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader

.genre angst, break up, lovers to exes, hurt no comfort

.ongoing | completed

.tw cursing(?)

.wc 2.4k

SUMMARY

Leaving Sakusa Kiyoomi was hard, but staying with him was harder.

Keep me in your arms again, I pine for the warm feeling of home where our limbs laid restlessly in our bed. I long for the touch of your fingertips and the ghost of your breath. I yearn for the mixed laundry in our room, and how you tried your best to keep the colours from mixing. Your efforts were far from being in vain, rather it was my fault for never trying hard enough for you. Trying hard enough for us.

I awaken alone now, with your side of the bed empty, and cold. A naked pillow with no head to call its own. The nights are darker, where the winter season couldn't hold a candle to the hiemal desolation that hibernated in my heart.

The coffee is bitter; dark and too acerbic for my own liking. The taste lingers too. It's pungent, and the scent wafts around the house until I leave it.

It's practically embarrassing to walk the streets without your hand intertwined in mine, I feel discomfited at the fact that I can no longer grab a hold of your hand in order to find sanctuary, the same hand I would grip onto afraid that I would lose you in broad daylight, the same hand that embraced your body every night that we slept, and the same hand that would wipe away your tears in the evening.

Yet it was twilight when you left me. I felt your presence begin to dissipate within the air as I slept for longer, so when the chill of a human's existence or lack thereof, had held me in the night, I woke up: to see nothing on your side.

And it all came flashing back to me, why you had left. Why you had packed your bags, why you cried as you removed most of your belongings into one suitcase.

ー

"You're late home today."

"Yeah."

Pure silence grows in the atmosphere and neither of us speak. You seemed expectant that I would answer you, but I couldn't tell at the time.

"...Do you want to tell me why?"

"Do I have to? I'm tired today."

"Okay. There's food in the fridge if you ever get hungry."

ー

The awkwardness that grew in our relationship may have driven you more and more to leave, and it's my fault for not trying. The effort that I lacked for our relationship had been made up for by you, and it had taken all of your energy alongside it, and quite possibly, your love for me.

I drained you by loving you languidly, I emptied your void by not filling it the way you had wanted me to. I expected you to make all of the first moves, and that you would do all the work for me in this relationship, and that I had to do nothing.

But you said to me that you were fine with getting hurt, so long as it were for me. So why are you leaving now, when you were the one who promised that you would do everything to make me happy, are you tired of me? Have you had enough?

Our solicitous tête-à-têtes had soon enough squandered from the depths of our hearts and eventually reshaped themselves into a mandatory chore made from the top of our heads, maybe to remind one another that there could've been a spark, that maybe our love was salvageable; even though you knew full well I could not respond in the healthy ways we knew I should have.

I've grown to detest the very sight of bookstores, or gardens. They were your favourite date idea and we hadn't been to either one of them together in months. But to my dismay, your favourite library had sent me an email, notifying there was a book yet to be returned, and we had to pay a small fine.

The nostalgia seemed to creep back up into my memory as I took steps closer to return the book Essays of Love that had been contained carefully in the tote bag which you bought me from our uni days.

ー

"I know it's not much, but we're starving students, and I thought this would suit your coat that your mom bought you." You shot a tender smile towards me, as you handed the off white bag with intricate black brushes against the material, that unexpectedly did suit the coat my mother had purchased for me.

"You didn't need to do this." I remember that I had pressed a small kiss against the pads of your knuckles as we stepped closer in proximity in the blistering winters of Tokyo; the neon lights of the building illuminating the features on your face in which I grew accustomed to.

"I know. But I love you."

"Thanks."

ー

"That'll be ¥1000." The local librarian speaks, aggressively typing against the keys of her board, and simultaneously writing swiftly against the yellow pad paper which had notes we both knew would be futile in the future.

Handing her the money, I gave a quick thank you before making my way back home in the dark afternoon of December. Meandering around the town wasted too much time, and the solitude which had consumed my being after your departure soon became an obligation in my life, and there could be no other way to regurgitate these feelings of drab emptiness and neglect. But I finally had time to think to myself for a bit though. As calamitous my mind was, the inhospitable temper of the winter night kept me company and I was numbed to the glacier like climate during my promenade.

I treated you with a manner that seemed perfectly fine to me, but neglectful to you and I became too expectant of your actions, anticipating for you to ask to hold my hand, or to request that I hug you in the night, and that I could pass you the box of tissues beside me; and I thought as though it was enough for you.

It's strenuous to walk around our home when everything is painted with you, when your hairbrush still abides on the edge of the vanity of our my room. When your mismatched socks still dawdle in the hallways and into my vision as I walk up the stairs every passing day after you left, or when your old shirt still situates on your side of the bed just as I had positioned it so.

Once again I yearn for you, just like those nights ago, and the pain comes washing back like a tide, exposing my most vulnerable aspects. The curtains close and I can finally let my bottled up ardour burst, chest heaving, lips trembling with an audible quiver every few seconds. Lachrymose eyes and a runny nose could only be a brief description of the inexpressible emotions bubbling up within my soul.

Sheer agony engulfs itself within me and I lose all senses of sanity as I think of how I've lost you, how you've left me, and how I can never get you back.

ー

"Kiyoomi?" His head had never turned so fast towards the reverberation of your voice. There you stood in your glory, wearing what he knew you would consider "indoor clothes", holding a bag in your arms as well as your keys to the house.

"What are you doing here?" Flicking the tears away and regaining his posture, he looms over you, observing your current state.

You didn't look any better, skin pale, lips chapped and hair disheveled, if anything, you seemed worse than he did, yet you had too much pride in your personality to admit that.

"I've come to collect the rest of my belongings." Sharp and clean was the cut. Enough to slice through Kiyoomi's heart, and you could hear it if you listened closely.

The impending outcome of your relationship had come to its destination, and he deemed it unacceptable, as he tried to grasp you in his clutches whilst you pack away the rest of your belongings, taking Kiyoomi's heart with you.

His countless cries echoed in your shared bedroom, as he attempted to take your clothes back out of the bag you had brought alongside you.

"Just one more day, please, stay with me. And I'll let you go." As heartbreaking as it would be to him, you scoffed, taking his words like a joke, like it was offensive of him to even step near you.

"Stop trying. I'm sick of this, I'm sick of you. Where was all of this six months ago? Why are you acting up now? Stop being selfish and let me go." Yanking your wrist away from him, you zip up the bag bringing the rest of your belongings, ignoring the clenching sensation going wild in your chest.

His countless tries to win you back into his arms for the night had failed to his dismay, and you had vanished into the twilight to a destination he would never figure out. Your relationship together had begun deteriorating the moment you'd granted him anything he wished without wanting something in return, or in this case, his love.

The neglect he'd provided you had only driven you to do more for him, maybe to please him, to make him look your way; but to no avail would he send an ounce of his undivided attention towards you, the love of his life for who knows how long. It was an ongoing cycle, and it wasn't until six months later you'd realise you wasted all of your time and energy on a man who wouldn't exert the same impression just to remind you that he did love you back.

Yet somehow, you knew that no matter how little he had shown you that he'd loved you too, there was a voice in the back of your head that would try to reassure that maybe, truly, he did love you the same way you loved him, but it was just that he struggled. But you'd gotten rid of the voice in that part of your head, you knew it would only hurt you to keep defending Kiyoomi in this empty relationship. Pretending to yourself that some day he'd say those three words back and not just some half assed "Me too" or "Thanks" was ruining you more than staying with him, so maybe leaving was for the better.

Although it was true that Kiyoomi was never an affectionate person in the first place, you'd assumed that he'd changed for the ones that he loves, as any normal person would do, but he would never budge out of his shell, only breaking what was left of your heart. His introversion seemed to keep up for three or more years, or however long it was the two of you dated, he'd never keep track as he deemed anniversaries to be "unnecessarily difficult to plan".

So moving on from him would be the best decision, even though you'd loved him since you were 17, and you had known no better, than to love Sakusa Kiyoomi, Itachiyama's Ace Spiker. Even though it was going to hurt, and the process would be long and hard, you knew it'd be for the better and the both of you would grow up to be happier people. After all, you're only 23.

"Goodbye, Kiyoomi. I-" It was a growing habit to always say 'I love you' before departing from him, maybe to encourage him to say it back. Although looking at where you are right now, you knew it'd be best not to say anything at all, just to save yourselves the pain.

He's fumbling through his words, before he finally stammers. "I lo-love you."

It was enough to make you stop in your tracks, but it could not fully equate to the agonising memories where you'd wait hours and hours every day just to make sure he got home safe. It could not amount to the times you had wasted to put an effort into the relationship only for him to hand back a yawn alongside a wave of his hand saying, 'Not today.' None of it could measure to the countless dates, movies, dinners he had missed, using the excuse of his practice.

You were never an important priority of his in the first place, and it finally came to be that you would never be a priority of his in the future. Staying with him for longer would only be a constant reminder of how little he tried between the two of you, and it would just be a shot to your ego at this point.

"Please say something." His voice is quiet and hoarse, barely trembling out the syllables that you could only jusy decipher. He attempts to close thr gap between the two of you, stepping closer with his hands reached out to grab yours, and you walk further back, shaking your head, shattering his heart on impact.

"No." You firmly reply. "I'm sick of waiting, I'm tired of having to lie to myself and everybody else about how you're doing when the last time I've been able to check, you would only wave me off and say 'night'. What the hell is that, Kiyoomi?" Your words shoot towards him like a shot of a new venom, and his body freezes, unprepared for your next response. "I don't want this anymore."

He shakes his head in refusal, not ready to face the facts. "Don't say it," he hushes you, "please, don't say anything. Just stay with me, I'll be better. I know I will."

The newfound urge to suddenly plead you back into his life almost convinces you to retract your statement, and just go back to him. Go back to staying in the quiet, lonely home, where you would spend most days wondering if Kiyoomi was even going to be back today. However, you shake your head again, and give him a pitiful smile, ready to crush his heart with your bare hands and let the remnants crumble for him to clean up.

"I don't want you, Kiyoomi. So just let me leave." You try your hardest to ignore the collapse in his expression as he finally hears your farewell. Taking the bag you had filled with the rest of your stuff, you walk away from Kiyoomi, with his cracked sobs in the background begging you to stay.

It's hard to miss the wails of the man you once loved when it's thrown right at your face, and you no longer have an obligation to wipe his tears away. The sobs get fainter and fainter, and you take a breath of relief as you finally feel free from the shackles that love had kept you under.

a/n hi lol this was kinda sitting in my drafts so i just like did what i could im sorry for the half assed ending im so tired these days :(( and its been like months since ive been on this account

•The Type of Person Akaashi Keiji is•

Akaashi x Reader fanfic

- 783 words

Akaashi Keiji is the type of guy that would always bring you flowers just because. He’s the type of guy that could probably handle you no matter how crazy you are. Akaashi Keiji is a person that would always stick by you and cares for you in your lowest times. He’s the type of man to read books to you while you cuddle.

He’s the type to always remember the small details. He’s the type of guy that would practice saying “present” when his teacher is taking role because of his social anxiety. Akaashi Keiji always messes with his hands when he’s anxious. He’s the type to make pinky promises with you and never break them. Akaashi Keiji is a big tease.

He’s the type of guy that if something caught your eye he would buy it for you the next day. He’s the type of guy to help you study if you’re struggling. Akaashi is the type to ask you if he can hold your hand etc. because he likes consent and making you feel safe is important to him. Akaashi Keiji is the type to always and I mean always write you love letters because he just can’t help himself.

He’s the type of guy that if you had a bad day he’d make or get your favorite meal and let you vent out to him. He’s the type of guy that would hold your hand or rub his thumb over your hand when either of you guys gets anxious. He’s an amazing gift giver because of how observant he is. He has the type of eyes that you could just get lost in over and over again. His hair is probably really soft to run your hands through.

He’s extremely insecure about his hands even though they’re perfect. He always compares himself to others when he does something wrong even tho he’s perfect the way he is. He loves reading but loves reading even more in a cafe. He doesn’t enjoy studying much but he does it anyways. He always finds out a way to deal with Bokuto. He may lose his temper rarely but when he does he always makes it up to you. Akaashi is the type of guy that tends to keep his problems to himself and that leads to them piling up.

He’s absolutely willing to dance with you in the rain. Akaashi Keiji loves to cook with you. He always says good morning and goodnight. Akaashi is the type of guy that would stare at you for a long time and never notice until you catch him but he still ends up doing it every time. He’s the type of guy that always, always hypes you up, he’s your number one supporter. He loves when you come to his volleyball games and support and Cheer for him, even though he’ll get nervous.

Akaashi definitely gives you pet names like “my love” or “darling”. He’s the type that will not let you open or hold doors while he’s around. He loves forehead kisses whether it’s giving them or receiving them. He’s the type to hum songs that are stuck in his head. If you fall asleep somewhere he’ll always carry you back to bed. He’ll gladly give piggyback rides. Bookstore dates, coffee dates, boba dates, study dates, and stargazing dates are a must, with Akaashi. He’s the type to have such good handwriting that it makes you jealous.

He always cherishes every gift you give him, big or small. He’s the type of guy that would have a hair tie on his wrist just in case you need one. I know for a fact if you bought him flowers he’d blush like crazy. Even though it doesn’t seem like it from the outside, I swear if you date him he’d actually be a huge dork <3. He’d be so happy if you and Bokuto were friends.

If you beg him enough Akaashi would wear matching outfits with you. If you don’t feel like cleaning because you’re in a bad state, he’ll gladly clean up everything for you. Be always compliments you. He definitely has an act of service love language or just sarcasm as his love language. Akaashi is the type of guy that would ask you to let him attempt doing your makeup. Akaashi Keiji is definitely a romantic. He has an amazing style of clothes. He may not look it but he’d be protective over you. He definitely has stage fright. He’d have an amazing playlist. Akaashi is probably really good with claw machines, it’s a talent he has. He seems like the type of guy that likes the rain. Akaashi Keiji has the sweetest and warmest smile you’ve seen.

This is the type of guy I think Akaashi Keiji is :)

~This is a repost from my old blog~

Mentions of female reader

Warnings ➪ nonee super softtt n’ fluffy <3

Soft!Tendou who throws his jacket over you everytime you come to one of his games because he claims it’s to keep sweaty boys from approaching you but he lowkey is possessive and gets super happy when you wear his number. There was a time at one of his games that he shut down an impressive spike and as the crowd erupted into whistles and hollering you stood up branding his number and screaming at the top of your lungs: “That’s my boyfriend!!” He couldn’t stop blushing the whole match he can’t help being so in love with you.

But also Soft!Tendou who always gives you homemade snackies that he always just happens to accidentally pack an extra portion for you. I feel like every Valentine’s Day you too go and do something like gross Rom-Com marathons and cook together. If you have socials media you always post and tag him and the comment sections are always arguing about “how cute y’all are” or “how you don’t have to rub it in” there is no inbetween

Soft!Tendou that throw all his body weight on to you at random times to see how you react. You’d think he would stop after surprising you with a trust fall when you was ready a book in the library and nearly cracking his skull open on a table when you failed to catch him and when you finally get back to him all he does is smile and cover you in kisses saying I still trust you <3

Soft!Tendou who kisses you anywhere anytime. No matter who is near if you’re busy he just needs to be near you his love language is most definitely physical touch. You know ushijima has had to pry Tendou off of you before practice because he has wrapped himself around you and won’t let go and your kinda just standing there like bread not trying to get out of the death hold but also not trying to get him in trouble with his team.

I don’t know if this is sad or cute but I’m literally screaming because Soft!Tendou definitely can sympathise with anyone and one Sunday afternoon you see him comforting a kid who is all by themselves and crying and you know he just goes to the kid and starts playing with them and spinning them around and building sandcastles with them and when he spots you it’s like your a little family and EEEEEEEEEEE *heart throb*

Soft!Tendou that loves doodling on his skin and one day during lunch just reaches for your hand and brings it into his lap and starts writing everything he loves about you and drawing cute variations of hearts and throwing in the occasional motivational quote like ‘be the best you can be’ or ‘Tendou Satori’s amazing, beautiful girlfriend ♡︎’

~This is a repost from my old blog~

SᴀᴋᴜAᴛsᴜ

ғ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ➪ ᴠᴇʀʏ ʙʀɪᴇғ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴘᴜɴɪsʜᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ sᴜɴᴀs, ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ғʟᴜғғʏ <3

|ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2|

ɪ ᴍɪss ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ </3

~This is a repost from my old blog~

OsᴀSᴜɴᴀ

ғ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ➪ ᴠᴇʀʏ ʙʀɪᴇғ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴘᴜɴɪsʜᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ sᴜɴᴀs, ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ғʟᴜғғʏ <3

|ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1|

ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴅᴏ ᴍɪss ᴛʜᴇsᴇ </3

Hq setters as single dads and how they try to get the attention of their child’s teacher/childminder, A lot of people forget to add kogane 🥺 so pls pls add him.

𝗣𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘁𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿 <𝟯

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ➪ none <3

ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ➪ ᴛɪᴍᴇsᴋɪᴘ!ᴏɪᴋᴀᴡᴀ, ᴀᴋᴀᴀsʜɪ, sᴜɢᴀᴡᴀʀᴀ, ᴋᴇɴᴍᴀ, sᴇᴍɪ, sʜɪʀᴀʙᴜ, ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ, ᴋᴏɢᴀɴᴇɢᴀᴡᴀ, ᴋᴀɢᴇʏᴀᴍᴀ

ᴀ/ɴ ➪ ʜᴀɪᴋʏᴜᴜ ᴅᴀᴅ sᴜᴘʀᴇᴍᴀᴄʏ <33

Shows up a little later than all the other parents—secretly loves how you playfully scold them about being on time ➪

Oikawa, Kenma, Atsumu, Koganegawa

Makes a note to ask their child what you like and coincidentally shows up the next day with it as a gift ➪

Akaashi, Semi, Oikawa, Kenma, Sugawara

The bold ones that literally come up to you when they notice how much their child takes a liking to you and begins to ask a series of personal questions ➪

Atsumu, Kenma, Shirabu, Kageyama

The sly ones that compliment you because seeing your flustered makes their day ➪

Sugawara, Akaashi, Oikawa, Atsumu, Semi

The ones that think they’re slick and get their child to hype them so they look ‘cool’ ➪

Oikawa, Kenma (please like I really feel like he would get his child to just subtly but not só subtly drop into their conversation that he is a CEO and world famous YouTuber-)

The ones that fumble on all their words trying to ask you out to coffee ‘to discuss their child’s progress’ ➪

Kageyama, Koganegawa, Shirabu

drop your favorite haikyuu fics :3

“can we get a dog ?” with hq boys

featuring ~ atsumu miya + sakusa kiyoomi + suna rintarou + akaashi keiji

warnings ~ rin being annoying, suggestive themes

notes ~ haven’t written in a bit, this is a nice start-up

ATSUMU >> “a dog ? well we can’t have an ankle-biter, so how ‘bout a retriever ? or one of those big ones like- a great dane ?” you remained mildly surprised that he wasn’t opposing, y’know, since his volleyball career and such. oh wait, there’s no way he could be agreeing so easily without a catch. “why a big dog tsumie ?” he pulled his head back in the love-seat, sultry smirk coating his lips. “so when i’m out at a game or a practice my baby will be protected. ‘can’t trust a chihuahua to keep my princess safe.” he huffed, crossing those veiny arms comfortably. “we cannot possibly fit a dane in here atsumu ! and for goodness sakes it’s not even fair !” the setter only chortled in reply, apparently pleased with himself. “is this your way of saying no ?” you crossed your arms defiantly, mimicking the boy seconds earlier. “nah, just sayin’ what needs to be said.” he inched closer to you, leaning forwards to meet your gaze. “but seriously, can’t have anything happenin’ to my little lady now can i ?”

SAKUSA >> “.. out of all the things you could want. a car, a new bag, maybe even shoes. but a dog ?” he knitted his brows, glaring at your smug self looking all pretty in the passenger seat. “yes kiyoomi, a puppy. we’d get one that doesn’t shed, and their a really really good companion.” you pleaded, trying your hardest to form some doe eyes. he sighed heavily, placing his head on the wheel hopelessly. “i’ll think about it, but this dog .. if we get it, is going to be the most well trained dog to exist.” he furrowed, his peculiar moles shifting with his troubled facial expressions. “thank you omi—“ you hushed, giggling at that cold stare as you peppered his face with an endless flurry of kisses. “but.” he interjected, grasping your jaw lightly despite his grip seeming stern. “at least kiss me properly as a form of repayment, but that’s not all, i expect a bit more.” his eyes traveling down ever so slightly, a soft gasp escaping your lips at the bold retort. oh, repayment was an interesting way of getting his thoughts through to you.

SUNA >> “why not a baby ?” he glanced up from his phone at the restaurants venue, expression unwavering when you proceed to choke on your food. “rinnie, c’mon.” you ushered quickly, patting your chest hurriedly. well, it was a futile attempt to calm down your racing heart. the things he did to you. if only he knew. however, it appeared he wasn’t joking this time. that poker face continuing to make you palpitate. biting your lip as you fiddled with the hem of your top. “think of a dog-a puppy as a start, then we can think of a baby. but with you playing for the paper mills.. it’s a lot to work with rinnie.” suna swirled the liquid in his glass, that sly grin parting ways once almond orbs met yours competitively. “why a start ? this baby can be our start and to be honest—i don’t know if i can wait in the long run sweetheart.” rising to his feet, he called to the waiter, handing his card easily with a business-oriented smile before slipping his cold fingers between yours. “let’s make tonight our start, shall we ?”

AKAASHI >> “mm .. that’d be cute. we could dress them in sweaters in the winter and celebrate their birthday.” he hummed, hands kneading the shampoo into your hair. today was a showering-together day. a day akaashi liked to recall as a best-of-all day. a day where he could get to experience the euphoric sensations of a warm shower with you, and save on the water bill at the same time. “really ? i thought you’d object the idea.” you chuckled, his hands leaving a satisfied sound rolling off your tongue. he pondered on the thought as you both bathed, transitioning to scrubbing your back ( while leaving kisses on your shoulders to simper at the goosebumps tracking afterwards ) instead. “what would you name them ?” you inquired, turning your head to watch him thoughtfully. “olive.” he replied nonchalantly, confused at your beaming face. “that is the most akaashi-thing i’ve ever heard you say.” — “olive ?” — “there it is again !”

-maak

plagiarism, repost, and editing is prohibited

Aawww! This is so cute! We love our strawberry Suna ^^

“don’t you dare say a word.”

suna smells like strawberries. he doesn’t like it—he’s made that more than clear—but there’s water droplets slipping down his nose and a pout on his face and the scent of your strawberry body wash sticking to his skin, so you can’t help but tease him anyway.

“i wasn’t gonna say anything bad.” you throw your hands in the air, a devilish little grin stretching across your lips. “just that you kinda smell like a farmer’s market right now.”

his brow furrows, leaving soft laughter to spill from your throat. “oh don’t be like that. i think it’s cute.”

he’s dug his own grave here, truly. both of you know well enough that he could’ve run home after his game; that he could’ve showered in his own bathroom, with his own body wash, and smelt like something so incredibly rugged that it stings the inside of your nose when you get too close.

but alas, suna’s biggest downfall has always been you. so, with a raise of a brow and the curve of a smile and one of those looks that feels more enticing than he’d ever care to admit, he finds himself here—falling onto your mattress and taking you with him—strawberry still heavy in the air.

“you’re annoying,” he murmurs, sloppy kisses against your shoulder and an arm snaking around your waist.

“you love it.” he hums in reply—a vibration of voice against the arch of your throat—and it nearly leaves you reeling.

he pulls you closer, chin settling into your collar as hot breaths swirl against your skin, and, truthfully, that’s more than enough to confirm your little claims.

because suna could’ve run home after his game. and he could’ve showered in his own shower and smelt like his own body wash and found his way back to your house as stars began to swallow the sky—but at the sight of you outside the gym, suddenly he was walking you home and standing outside your door and letting you lead him to your bathroom so he could smell so heavily of your body wash that it flutters you with laughter as he kisses your neck.

and perhaps that’s because he’s a little too lenient, or a little too incapable of telling you no, but as he begins to drift, melting in the air of your room, you’re almost positive you’re right.

♡ — of broken plates (sakusa kiyoomi)

pairing(s) — sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader

note(s) — a little comfort fic, present-past-present timeline, a very emotional y/n and kiyoomi just wants to baby you

words — 1.4k

“you’re such a baby sometimes,” kiyoomi sighs as he continues stroking the top of your head comfortingly — like he has been doing for the past 20 minutes.

“no, i’m not,” you managed to mutter out in between sniffles, eyes still teary and lips trembling just the slightest.

kiyoomi fights the urge to roll his eyes. he had come home earlier that night to quite a strange scene; you sitting on the dining table with several ceramic shards of different sizes before you, eyebrows furrowed in both concentration and despair as you attempted to assemble the pieces back together. what the object once was beyond him, and he wondered if he should interrupt at all, seeing as you hadn’t even noticed he had returned home.

in the end, kiyoomi cleared his throat just loud enough to grab your attention, and as your head snapped up to look at him — that was when the flood gates opened.

Keep reading

absolute pitch # u. wakatoshi | 2k words

↳ ushijima has trouble keeping you in his arms through the night; he comes up with an oddly ingenious solution.

for the simple pleasures collab hosted by @augustinewrites <3

Ushijima runs hot. He’d never realised this until two years ago when you pointed it out to him on your third date.

“You’re really hot.” were your exact words, and he almost tripped over nothing.

“Sorry?”

You half-hiccuped, half-giggled at his reaction, and the sound chimed in his ears. You were cute when you were tipsy, especially when you started whining a few glasses in because he couldn’t drink with you, a circumstance attributed to his dietician. 

(By the end of the night though, he’d had a sip or two. It was impossible to deny you.)

“I mean, you’re really warm,” you clarified because he was definitely gawking. “Like a human heater.”

Since then, Ushijima became almost hyper-aware of how much heat he emanated. Not that it concerned him. It meant packing less for games in colder locations, no bathroom breaks during long movies, less time spent making his bed in the morning because he didn’t need a blanket.

If anything, him running hot was a good thing. At least, Ushijima thought it was until he stayed the night with you for the very first time.

Because though he’d fallen asleep with your head tucked towards his chest and your hand over his heart, he’d awoken the next morning on the other side of the bed, sweating like he’d just played an entire set. 

That was how Ushijima learned the one downside of running hot: his body couldn’t physically withstand anything over an hour’s worth of cuddling. Which was terrible because, well, he really liked doing it with you.

When you moved in together, though he willed himself to keep you in his embrace before going to bed every night, the same tragedy always befell him come morning. Once, he even woke up with half his body hanging off the mattress. 

“It’s okay, baby. Honestly,” you said when he brought it up a week after settling into the new place. The smell of stale, unlived in air still clung to the walls.

You looked unbothered. Maybe… “Do you prefer it that we don’t—”

“No! No, of course not!” Ushijima was worried you’d get whiplash from how feverishly you shook your head. “I like cuddling with you at night, Toshi. But I know you get antsy when you’re warm. It’s probably just a subconscious response that you roll away. To avoid body heat, you know?”

You’d stared at him with so much reassurance, compassion, adoration; his heart ached. Ushijima wanted to lift you onto the nearest surface and kiss you breathless in hopes you’d understand how much you meant to him. He would’ve, but you were wearing shorts, and he remembered how you’d jolted from the cold after he set you down on the kitchen counter while kissing you that one time.

Sometimes, and maybe it’s mean of him, Ushijima puts off immediately reuniting with you after a game out of town just to watch you from afar, in awe that no matter who looked at you, he was the person you were waiting for; he was the only person who could call you his. 

Which was what made his predicament even more frustrating. 

He’s always taken pride in the fact that he’s made it so far in his career. He enjoys the vigour of his lifestyle; the intense training, the travelling, the purpose. It keeps him busy, keeps his life in check. He’s never once regretted devoting his all into volleyball.

But sometimes—when he hears you try to hide the fatigue brining your voice during the video calls while he’s away or on the days he has to carry you into bed because you’d fallen asleep waiting for him at the dining table—Ushijima can’t stifle the guilt that rouses in him. He spends so much time away from home, from you, that sometimes he forgets just how pleasantly cold your skin is compared to his, how tender your gaze becomes when it’s directed at him, how delicately your smile stretches the plush of your lips.

So he can hardly be blamed for wanting to spend what rare nights he has with you as close as humanly possible. Ushijima’s tried everything to try and force himself to remain by your side through the night—weighted blankets, melatonin pills, insisting you sleep on his arm to root him in place, sleeping shirtless to decrease his body temperature (you seemed disappointed when he stopped doing that last one)—but nothing worked. 

But if there’s one thing Ushijima’s learned from volleyball it’s this: to adapt is to win. There’s never a guarantee what his opponent will do next, which is why he knows the best thing he can do when something unexpected comes his way is take it in stride and adapt.

Which is why, on off days like today, Ushijima wakes up thirty minutes earlier than he should. 

Because he may be a world-class athlete, but he can’t train his body to reduce the amount of heat it exudes. All he can do is accept the fact that he isn’t built to spend an entire night with someone in his arms without overheating. So, he settles for this instead: waking up thirty minutes earlier so he can use that time to cuddle.

(Heat pricks his ears at the word. It sounds childish, but it’s exactly what he’s doing. He wishes there was another term for it.)

Thirty minutes, however, is barely a blip in the grand scheme of things. Ushijima wastes no time in draping his arm across your waist and nuzzling his face into the softness of your shirt, breathing you in. The first few times he did this, he dozed off. Which would’ve been fine—it’s an off day—if not for the fact that unconscious, his body will inevitably stray from yours.

So, when drowsiness begins seeping into his limbs, Ushijima reaches forward and, though he is no artist, sketches you with the feather-lightness of his fingertip. Every curve, dip, slope of your face he passes his thumb over to stow in his mind, to unearth on the days he spends away so the sight of you never dilutes. 

Usually he does this as gently as he can so he doesn’t wake you, but today you’re wearing one of his wide-collared shirts, the ones that slip down your arm to reveal your skin mottled by sunlight filtering through the sheers. 

So how is he meant to resist dragging his lips over your clavicle to the tip of your shoulder? How can he not linger there, let your skin cool his own, bringing him to an equilibrium?

He smooths his thumb over your lips, the flesh whispery like chiffon. He has half the mind to abandon his guilty conscience to kiss you awake. Ushijima doesn’t have to though, because before he knows it, your mouth is curving upward and your fingers are wrapping themselves around his wrist to keep his thumb pressing into your smile.

“G’morning, Toshi.”

Your voice is filmed with sleep, your eyelids barely open. He lets you curl his fingers into a fist and watches as you ghost your lips across the grooves of his knuckles. Ushijima wonders if he could ever love you more.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, if only to keep himself grounded in reality. 

Your kisses travel to his wrist, to the single prominent vein which spindles upward to burgeon in his palm. When you hum an affirmative it sends vibrations along his pulse point.

Ushijima cups the back of your head and guides it to rest against his chest, his left arm lacing tighter around your waist. If his estimates are accurate, he has ten minutes left. He wishes he had longer.

“You’re so warm, darling,” you tell him, almost absentmindedly.

Are you uncomfortable? You must be. Winter has begun to winnow from summer’s sweltering winds; certainly that paired with Ushijima’s own startling heat would be borderline oppressive.  

But when he shifts to pry himself away, you bunch the material of his shirt in your hands to stop him. 

“Don’t go.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. “You feel nice.”

Ushijima should’ve known better. Of course, you’d find no contentions with his body heat. When have you ever? You revel in it, crave it even, because the heat is inherent to him, and you love him without conditions. 

Because you’ve learned to adapt, too. 

You and Ushijima dance to different tunes. Even undying love cannot alter the simple truth that each of your notes differ on a near structural level—coloured by your past experiences, your upbringing, your contrasting dispositions—because at the end of the day, you and him are different people. There is no harmony when you and Ushijima’s songs collide, only dissonance, but over the years, as you’ve designated crevices in yourselves specially curated for the other, you’ve each adapted your songs to fit the best they can.

It’s been three years since Ushijima has known you, two since you told him how hot he ran, and in that time, both of you have attained absolute pitch; learned to play the other’s tune merely by sound; borrowed and incorporated each other’s notes into your own song. So while there is no true harmony in the orchestra of your relationship, sometimes, if he strains his ears, Ushijima can hear your melody and his weaving to create something not necessarily right, but beautiful regardless. Because those few seconds of not-quite harmony are born from effort, from wanting to conduct something dulcet together in spite of the way Ushijima’s tempo may run faster than yours at times and your pitch a little higher than his in others. 

Your not-quite harmony is a culmination of the little things you do for each other, to adapt for one another, like drying his hair while he rewatches games, dabbing your makeup away when you’re too exhausted to, sticking peppy messages scratched in ballpoint on the fridge for him, or, even, waking up thirty minutes earlier just so he can bask in your love if only for a second longer.

His alarm beeps once, twice, thrice, before Ushijima silences it.

“We should get up now,” he rasps against your forehead because that’s what the sound means. 

Your breath blankets his cheek, his thumb caresses your hip. 

“I know. I’ll go wash my face,” you say but you don’t move.

“Okay,” he says but his hold of you doesn’t loosen.

And maybe the two of you stay that way longer than you should. Maybe the half-hour stretches to one instead as you catch him up on what he’d missed while he was away—the Alphonso mangoes on sale at the grocery store, how you’d found the left side of your favourite pair of woolly socks behind the washing machine, the orange peel and honeysuckle scented hand lotion you’d been eyeing ceasing production—and he memorises the softness of your skin beneath his palm. 

You tell him about all the trivial happenings, though Ushjima doesn’t like calling them that because the way you recount them makes him feel as if he were there living through it with you—juggling the weight of ripe fruit between his hands, shining his phone’s flashlight behind the washing machine for a glimpse of kitten-patterned wool, hearing the clicks of your mouse as you reload and reload the fragrance store’s website. And suddenly, he can’t wait to officially start the day because there are dozens of mundane things—simple pleasures—he won’t need to vicariously experience a week too late. 

Because he gets to do them, with you, today.

But Ushijima thinks just a second longer in bed surely won’t hurt because he can’t imagine getting up any time soon. Not when he has you like this, not when he’s teeming with the knowledge that you are the only person in the world who knows his song by heart as he does yours, that in this moment, he can hear the not-quite harmony the two of you have built for yourselves from the simple pleasures, from all and nothing but the simple pleasures.

In karasuno bus

Yn: I.. have to go number 3

Daichi who was sittingbeside yn: number 3?

Hinata: OMG YN HAS TO GO NUMBER 3

Daichi turns to look at yn: what's number 3??

Yn who puked on his lap:

Daichi: oh..

i’m your biggest fan <3 (repost)

fanboy!au where you’re their favorite character in the show haikyuu!! gn reader. Some suggestive but no actual nsfw

kuroo

lurker stan who snaps when you start gaining popularity and doesn't let anyone forget that he was there ‘since the debut date'

will refuse to believe in any au! where you're not single

absolutely haaaates the love interest you have in canon and his line of defense against it is "cant they just be friends? yall are lame for shipping them when all they did was hold hands and kiss a few times lmaoo"

has a private insta account for fanarts

if the mangaka ever releases post time skip material where you're with your love interest kuroo literally gaslights himself and others into believing it's just a cover up

if he sees someone wearing hq merch in public he'll be like "oh, my sister likes that show. who's ur favorite?" and then judges them based on their answer

the opposite of bokuto, he finds other y/n stans annoying and sees them as competition

so possessive of you and thinks he's the only one who truly actually loves you

makes hcs in his head of icks for you and forces himself to love you regardless #scorpio

tries to write y/n x reader but it's all so obviously self insert

"y/n ran their hands through your messy black hair and tugged your 6'5 frame in for a kiss"

when ppl come at him for not being inclusive he says it's just his style of writing

anon: "um u literally put your name in there. your name is tetsurou isn't it?"

starts putting a header with "dont like, dont read. haters and antis will be blocked on site 🙃"

only kenma knows about his obsession fixation and its only bc he saw kuroo's laptop wallpaper once (you setting up for a serve with your shorts riding up your thighs a bit)

bokuto

never actually watched hq, but saw a post of you on his dash and fell in love

bases all his knowledge off of fanon opinions

religiously checks character polls to see where you're at

makes a bunch of burner accounts to vote and posts the poll link on his personal fb

pops into his relatives' dms to get them to vote for you. 

"hi great auntie hope the surgery went well <3 this is bokuto's son kotarou btw!! i went to the potluck last year lol. anyways can u just click this link and vote for 'y/n l/n' please?? thank u <3 ur new hair looks great <3″

buys all fan merch specific to you; your game jersey, a replica hoodie you wore in season 2, a cosplay of your school uniform, etc

absolutely wears it in public with no shame and will geek out if anybody recognizes it

"how do you feel about [main character]?" "who??? idk them lol. anyways so about y/n..." 

literally doesn't know anything about the show but is obsessed with you

on tinder puts "its ok if ur not but looking for someone like y/n l/n😍😍😍" in his bio

oikawa

oikawa sitting crisscross applesauce on the floor in his room, booty shorts and a crop top with his hair back in a pink bunny hairband surrounded by bergamot grapefruit candles, holding a piece of frankincense "i am in the world of haikyuu. i am y/n l/ns boyfriend. there are infinite universes." jdksla

"soft stan" to the death (🙄) he will never. lewd. his. baby

a y/n apologist even if ur pre-redemption arc

makes a tumblr account just so he can reblog fanfics and comment "this is ooc lmao" or "my angel would never"

the one making fan theories

will skip class even if he has an exam to see the hq movie in theaters

goes in sweatpants, sunglasses + crocs and keeps his hood on the entire time

obnoxiously shushes anyone who talks during the movie but gasps loudly whenever u come on screen

somehow finds a way to bootleg the movie in 4k and takes a bunch of screenshots of u afterwards

posts the best pics on his fan blog with an obnoxious ass watermark over your cheek

only reads smut to "quality check" them 🤨

daichi

an actual soft stan

if he sees any sexy content with you he will blush hard as he reports the user for inappropriate conduct

reads oikawa's fan theories and feeds into it

asks questions on anon like "what do you think of y/ns character development in episode 7? what does this tell us about them?"

sits and stares at his wallpaper of you for an unhealthy amount of time. swears he needs to do it in order to sleep properly

suga gets him tickets to a convention and he cant sleep the night before

literally vibrating in excitement when he gets there and goes straight to all the vendors with your merch. 

he's so hesitant to buy anything but he can't look away and hovers so bad jdksks

side eyes anyone who has naughty fanart of you or sexualized cosplays

asahi and suga surprise him with your nendo at the end of the day and he bursts into tears right there LMAOO

ushijima

casually reads the nastiest smut in public with a straight face jdkskak

"toshi, come get dinner!" "ok, hold on, mom. after they come." "after who goes where? did you invite someone over, honey?" he doesn't respond and keeps reading.

sends the same request to multiple blogs. "hi y/n getting creampied by a tall male reader who has strong legs and a wide chest." "can you write y/n x male reader breeding kink please" "male reader x y/n + prompt 24 'gonna take all my cum like a good slut, right?' please"

if tendou is reading shounen jump and you're in it, he'll read over tendou's shoulder from like three inches away

tendou stops lending him them bc toshi never returns it or he gives it back a week later with crinkly pages HMMM

has a large poster of you over his bed

speaks to it like you're a real person.

"sweetheart, i bought groceries today. you like fruit, right? me too. let's eat."

sits there on his bed eating an apple and just straight up vibing next to your poster 

this is how he heals himself

suga

an exclusive stan. he doesn't believe in being a multi stan

will cut you out from group shot posters and pin it on his 'my dream future✈️💸💘' moodboard

somehow has 17k followers from only posting phd level y/n x gn!reader fluff and grammarly sponsors his posts

but his likes are filled with straight filth

tries to convert everyone into a y/n stan 

makes a "what kind of person you are according to your fave in hq" as an excuse to lowkey roast everyone who isn't you

has a licensed figure of you and sometimes he rubs a finger over your ass oh boy

leaks raws and spoilers from his sideblog

kageyama 

tries to make fanart but has no skills. posts his stick figure drawings anyways and warns all 2 of his bot followers to 'not steal or use without permission'

you know that girl who brought her life sized hq cutout to take her senior portraits? that's him and his y/n cut out 

frames the photo and keeps it by his bedside

reads smut on the train with his screen at 100% brightness

someone snaps a pic and he becomes a meme but he doesn't care

even if he hates your favorite foods, he forces himself to eat it

has a small picture of you in his wallet and watches it lovingly on the way home when hes not reading smut 

sees someone with a keychain of you in public and stops functioning 

jaywalks across the street and goes straight up to ask them, "where did you get this? how much was it? can i buy it from you? do you have more?"

unironically looks into those marriages where people marry anime characters/inanimate objects 

genuinely thinks you’re a real person in the world somewhere and believes in soulmate!au irl

his therapist needs a therapist

masterlist

I've been a fan of Haikyuu for like 4-5 years now and I wanna know if Kenna's gamer name is kozuken or kodzuken ?? I always assumed it was the first one because it's for his name kozume kenma and from this manga piece

but like everywhere else like his fandom profile and fanfics and stuff all spell it with a 'd' but why did y'all start putting it like that ?? i don't understand where it came from and it bothers me 😭😭

someonehelpplz :(

English Class | T. Oikawa | Drabble

pairing: teacher!oikawa x oc

synopsis: oikawa is late to lunch

word count: 397

warnings: none!

type: drabble

a/n: for some reason i feel like oikawa would be an english teacher

"Oikawa-sensei," A young girl raised her hand. "Yes, Yukako?" "How do you pronounce synthesize again?" Yukako had to spell it out. Oikawa sounded it out for the class before returning back to his desk work.

The bell rang which meant it was finally time for his lunch break. "Remember your pronunciation tricks and the test should be easy." He was making his way to his car before he was stopped by a group of students. "Oikawa-sensei, we were wondering if you could tutor us during your lunch break?" Oikawa agreed, forgetting he promised his wife to have lunch with her.

Together they went back to his classroom and began studying. About twenty minutes in, a sharp knock was at the door. Before Oikawa got up to answer it, a tall, slender woman came in. Short, blonde hair framed her face and stopped at the base of her neck. Bold, red lipstick contrasted her pale skin.

A white sweater clung tight to her upper half while her long, green skirt was flowy and loose. "Tooru, are you avoiding me?" Oikawa quickly ran up to her, "Of course not dear. I just got caught up at work." One of his students interrupted, "Not to be rude Oikawa-sensei, but who's that?" "I am his wife," she took a seat next to the student.

A little girl entered the classroom next. Brown pigtails with blonde streaks and red ribbons matched her mother perfectly. She wore a dainty pink dress and cuddled up right next to her mother. "We were waiting for you at the cafe and you never showed." His wife reached for a handkerchief out of her purse and pretended to cry.

The little girl began hitting Oikawa's leg, "Bad daddy kept mommy and I waiting." He reached down to pick her up, "I was teaching my students, see." His students awkwardly waved to his daughter. "Now how about I send these students off to lunch and we go eat at the cafe? How does that sound?"

The girl cheered and he set her back down. The students filed out and gave their aww's and goodbyes. "With this heat and tests coming up, my brain is fried." 'Its quite alright, I knew you were probably here with the kids." She picked up her daughter and carried her back to the car with Oikawa following along, mesmerized by his wife's beauty.

pairing: hinata x cheerleader!reader

synopsis: y/n wants to support her boyfriend at his volleyball match

word count: 676

warnings: none but it does involve like three ocs cus i needed a cheer squad lol

type: drabble

a/n: i was watching a video essay on the mean girls musicial. also the volleyball match did NOT happen in the show, mainly bc i don't remember the matches much. also dw there's gonna be a pt. 2

Sunada Fumika took a seat next to Y/n. Her brown ponytail swung as she walked. It had been a few days since the basketball game and she was growing quite bored. "Y/n, since we're co-captains we need to find a game the girls can cheer at on Sunday. We need the practice before competition."

Y/n sighed. She'd been struggling with that. The first competition of the year would be in two weeks, and without practice the squad was screwed. "I'll ask my boyfriend if we can cheer at his game. I don't know if they have cheerleaders for volleyball, though."

"Anything you can do would be great. I'll let the girls know to meet at the track field after school." Y/n nodded and watched Sunada go back inside. Just as she left Y/n's boyfriend, Hinata Shoyo, took her seat. He greeted her with a hug.

"Hey why the long face?" "We just need a place to cheer before the competition. Could we maybe go to your Sunday game?" Hinata furrowed his brow. "I'll ask Daichi. I'm 110% sure he'll let you. I would love if you cheered for me at games."

Y/n found his enthusiasm amusing. "You go do that then. Since lunch is almost over I have to head to class." Hinata quickly jumped up. "Let me carry your books for you." He grabbed her books before she could even stand up.

Having memorized her schedule already, he opened the sliding door and set the books right on her desk. Y/n gave him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you. Chikae Rio poked Y/n as soon as she sat down.

Despite her being the shortest on the team, she was extremely strong. "You two are just so cute. When's the wedding?" "Chikae what about your sex friend?" She quickly covered Y/n's mouth, "Shh he still has a girlfriend so nothing's official. Did you find someone?"

Y/n nodded and began taking out her materials for class. "We can cheer for the boys volleyball team. Sunada wants us to meet at the track field." "She totally wants to stare at the third year girls. It can't be helped, they are pretty hot."

Y/n rolled her eyes. "The two of you are hopeless." For the remainder of the day Y/n mostly took notes. As soon as she stepped out of her classroom, Hinata pulled her into a hug. "Hey I love you too, but what's going on?"

"Daichi said he'll try it out. He wants to see your team and some of the cheers." He was grinning from ear to ear. Y/n lifted up his hair and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Tell Daichi we usually meet at the track field."

Hinata nodded. The two of them went their separate ways. Y/n slung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the track field. The building for sports clubs was packed seeing as school just got out. The stairway was so crowded that Y/n was glad their room was on ground level.

A few of the girls had already arrived and were busy gossiping and changing. Y/n quickly unlocked her lock and hung up her bag. She made a mental note to take home her uniform and practice clothes today to wash. She changed into a black t-shirt and orange shorts before lacing up her gym shoes.

Sunada was already waiting for the girls at the track field. Daichi was standing alongside her, so Y/n took her place on Sunada's left. As the girls were stretching, Daichi began speaking. "The team would be more than happy to have you cheer us on. So for the rest of this week, you'll be practicing in our gym.

Sunada looked at Y/n and smiled. Y/n was glad they wouldn't have to practice outside. The basketball team only let them use the gym three days out the week, so this would be a nice upgrade from their old cheer room.

pairing: tsukishima x gn!reader

synopsis: y/n wants more affection from their bf

word count: 476

warnings: slight jealousy ig? i still have yet to write angsty stuff

type: drabble

a/n: i was looking at bf headcanons for tsuki and all of them said he disliked pda so here we are :)

Y/n and Tsukishima were walking to school together like they usually did. Y/n would open their front door and there he was waiting for them. They walked hand in hand until they arrived and went their separate ways. Y/n liked this part of their morning.

Today, they were growing a bit tired of it. Y/n stopped abruptly. "Kei, how come you never give me a kiss good morning? Or a kiss good bye when we go to our different classes?" He looked slightly annoyed. "If you wanted me to, you could've just asked."

They continued walking. Y/n was partially upset. They felt that in relationships they both should always want to give each other affection. That was the whole point, right? The more they walked to school, the worse Y/n felt.

Even around his teammates, he never really kissed or hugged them. Was he embarrassed to be with them? Not wanting negative thoughts to cloud their morning, Y/n waved goodbye to Tsukishima and headed to class.

Once lunch came around, they walked up to him per usual. He was sitting with Yamaguchi and a couple guys they didn't recognize. Y/n sat right next to him and closed the space between them. He instantly scooted further away.

Y/n stood up and left. Their earlier thoughts were already confirmed. Deciding on eating something from the vending machine, Y/n finished their lunch outdoors. Soon enough Tsukishima came looking for them.

"Y/n what the fuck? Why'd you just leave?" Y/n didn't meet his eyes. "If you don't want to date me in public that's fine. Maybe you just don't like me enough then." Tsukishima scoffed. "Y/n what the fuck are you talking about? When have I said that?"

Y/n was tired of him playing dumb. "Anytime we're in front of your friends you don't acknowledge me, but in private all you wanna do is touch me. Am I that embarrassing?" "Your so dumb sometimes I swear." He enveloped Y/n into a hug.

"I'm not into all that pda stuff. Couples are so annoying when their eating each others face off in between classes." Y/n pulled away, "You don't have to do all that. Just a hug, kiss on the cheek, or something." Tsukishima laughed, "You want people to know I'm in a relationship? Is this a jealousy thing?"

"God Kei why don't you get it? It makes me feel like you don't want me if you don't want people seeing that you like me." "Why do you care what people think?" Y/n rolled their eyes. "I want to feel wanted. I don't want to date some guy who's embarrassed of me."

"I'm not embarrassed of you. I'm just not good with pda." Y/n planted a kiss on his lips, "Then become good at it.