#hq!! post timeskip

[freakurodani]

blue ink my beloved

[temeyes]

my darling tsukki!

[tobiokg3]

kghn :)

[lanirawhoney]

KageHina on an after practice snack run

[kissinkou]

LIKE A CHAMP .ᐟ

ft. msby bokuto

cw : highly suggestive. making out. groping. cursing. stripping clothes. allusions to s3x. petnames (baby). locker room activities with beefy yummy bokuto :3 @omitea @steleir for my wifies !!

wc : 1k

you can hardly hear yourself yelling over the crowd of cheers that erupt through the stands. large signs are held high with famous players jersey numbers, and the stomps of feet throughout the bleachers create a loud rhythmic bang. the boom, boom, boom of shoes against the metal as the athletes fall to the floor in celebration.

your hands clap as you look across the court, smiling wide at your husband who pumps his fist high in the air, loud yell of pure ecstasy coming straight from his mouth. you see him look to the crowd, seemingly searching until he’s able to lock eyes with you. his grin is so wide you feel as though theres a light shining in your eyes, his teammates slapping his back in praise.

bokuto is immediately striding over to you once he gets the go ahead from his coach, practically tackling you into a hug stronger than a bear, squeezing you tight. you can feel the sweat that sticks to his body, seeing a droplet run down his forehead when he pulls back to rattle you by your shoulders.

“ baby ! you saw me, yeah ? you saw me win that point ? did you ? ”

you can’t help but giggle at his frantic need for your praiseful answer, hand coming up to his face with a smile spreading onto your lips.

“ i did. it was a great game ! you did amazing ! im so proud of you, kou. ”

and that’s when you see it. the smallest but mischievous glint that pools into his eyes, and he may try to laugh it off as if it were nothing, but you know him.

you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or the earlier words that left your mouth, but it led to your hand being taken and practically dragged to the mens lockeroom.

theres a sudden slam that resonates throughout the echoey walls, your back coming into contact with the locker behind you.

“ what— kou-mmph ! ”

you’re taken by surprise when a pair of lips smash into yours, teeth clashing in a frantic hurry as your question gets stolen from your mouth.

“ m’ sorry baby— i just— please. ” bokuto muffles, plea’s slipping from his mouth between the kisses he leaves on your lips, hot breath fanning over your face.

bokuto’s hands begin to roam across your body now, squeezing at the soft plush of your hips that has you instinctively rolling them onto nothing.

you can feel the tingles that shoot up from your feet to your spine, knees buckling into eachother. there’s a familiar heat that pools into your stomach, and one look at bokuto is all he needs to know his next move.

his lips are still devouring yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip as a silent ask to delve deeper. you allow him, opening your mouth just the slightest bit more so he can push his tongue past your lips and onto yours.

your hands slip from his forearms, traveling up his biceps to the back of his neck. your fingers grasp the small hairs at his nape, which makes bokuto let out a shakey breath into your mouth.

“ you don’t understand— how bad i wanted this. ” he starts, large hands now dangerously close to the plump of your bottom.

“ looked so fuckin’ pretty in the stands baby. just wanted to— have you right then. ” he starts to babble nonsense, groping your ass in a harsh squeeze that has you whimpering in his hold.

his skin is wet, hot, and sticky from the earlier match he had just played. sweat trickled down from his sideburns as it pooled under his chin, and you can feel the buldge in his uniform growing stiffer by the minute. your hand travels to the tent in his shorts, fingers just barely grazes over his print, and bokuto sucks in a harsh hiss through his teeth. always so sensitive.

his mouth begins to peck the corners of your lips, moving south down your neck with sloppy wet kisses. bokuto lets his lips hover over your skin for a moment, before he’s delving into your jugular to leave a soft bite on your most sensitive spot.

“ mm!— kou… ” is what comes out of your mouth next, egging him on before bokuto loses all sense of control he has.

his kisses have grown hungrier, keeping your lips latched onto his as he lifts you from your thighs. he keeps devouring you, effortlessly keeping you upright as he carries you to a separate area of the locker rooms.

there’s a clash and a bang, shower room door swinging open but you both don’t seem to mind it. your legs are wrapped around bokuto’s small waist, his hands on your ass the only thing keeping you steady. your back hits yet another wall, the tile cold against your skin.

“ i want— oh fuck ! ” you yell out in a sudden gasp, taken by surprise by the lukewarm water that shoots out of the showerhead in steamy streams.

you’re both soaked from head to toe in tapwater, and bokuto’s hair starts to fall down, strands tickling his nose. his clothes grow heavy on himself, sinking in to his skin and putting his abs on display through his jersey.

“ what baby ? cmon’, tell me want you want— please ? ” bokuto beckons, mumbling through the lips that trail hot kisses from your neck to your collarbones.

you take a deep, shaky breath to recollect your surroundings, thinking of every possible outcome of the situation at hand. you’re in the locker room showers, for godsake. but you know there’s no turning back now, love and needy lust swirling in you and your husbands irises like a whirlpool of desire.

“ —you. i want you. ”

bokuto’s fervant hands reach to lift the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in a hurry to strip you until you’re bare and for the taking.

you’re both exposed to eachother, hair wet and as soaked as you are as his fingers lay a playful squeeze at the skin of your naked hip. he doesn’t try to hide the neediness that takes over him anymore, pulling and groping any part of you he can get his hands on, your warm flesh being fondled lewdly.

“ i’ll give you whatever you want. you’ll be proud of me then, too, yeah ? ”

©KISSINKOU — do not copy, steal, plagiarize, take inspo from without consulting, or translate my work.

[stars-tonight]

RING

"what do you want your engagement ring to be like?"

you sputter at the question and turn to look at him. "what are you talking about?"

he doesn't spare you a glance from where he is on the bed, instead flipping a page of the book he's reading. "what do you want your engagement ring to be like?" he repeats. "i was curious."

"all of a sudden? it's almost midnight."

"diamond?" he prompts.

you grin. "yeah. it's classic."

"what color?"

"the ring?" you frown thoughtfully. "probably just a classic silver. maybe one of those rose gold ones. i haven't really given it much thought before."

"fancy or simple?"

"why are you asking so many questions?" you tease.

he rolls his eyes. "is a man not allowed to be curious every once in a while?"

"okay, okay." you laugh. "honestly, i don't think a ring should change how you feel about the relationship. if you truly love someone, you should love them no matter what ring they give you."

he sets the book down. "okay. and what about the proposal?" he asks. "do you have thoughts on that? private? public? with flowers?"

you shake your head, chuckling to yourself, and answer his questions truthfully. "private. flowers are nice, but not necessary."

he nods slowly. thoughtfully. "okay. good to know." he picks the book back up, which, as you take a closer look, you notice is upside down. he flips a page, pretending to read.

he sees your blush and scoffs. "don't get any ideas. i just got to the proposal in this stupid book. got me thinking is all." he goes back to the book. "still can't believe you're making me read a romance novel."

but you swear you see a little pink blush on his face too.

TSUKISHIMA KEI, kageyama tobio, kozume kenma, SUNA RINTARŌ, kyōtani kentarō, SAKUSA KIYOOMI

A/N: idea came to me all of a sudden, i promise i'm working on the thing people voted for 😭

[sonialiao]

fINAL poster omg these volleyball boys 😵‍💫. think of this as a msby promotional poster for osaka street food or something haha okay i'm going to bed now good night 🤣 🛏️

[stars-and-cows]

Okay so I know Kagehina is basically married in their highschool years

BUT

Imagine if they just never felt the pressure to name their feelings and just... Expected each other to be by their side. Being together was just how the world worked

Until Hinata moved to Brazil

Imagine Kageyama texting Hinata in the evening to talk about his day just to realize Hinata is probably still sleeping right now

Imagine Hinata going on his morning jog, realising something is off and putting on interviews with Kageyama to at least hear this smug voice that used to race with him at every practice

Imagine Kageyama having to basically rewire his brain to stop always considering the wild, unexpected variable of Hinata on the court

Imagine Hinata complimenting the setters who he had the pleasure to play with and feeling off when they just say thank you instead of friendly kicking his ass

Imagine Kageyama subconsciously clinging onto the feeling that Hoshiumi will replace Hinata, always setting the balls unintentionally perfect for Hinata no matter how off they feel for Hoshiumi

Imagine Hinata memorising English verbs and laughing to himself (which kinda weirded out his roommate) about how he will beat Kageyama in this too

Imagine them both going into a call and talking to each other until they both go silent

They don't know what to do without the other

Something is off

They are off

And they silently just wish they would be together and not just by texts or calls

How they could wake up together, race together, play together, tease each other together, figure out new strategies together

Just be together

And they just stay on the call, in silence, just imagining the other next to them. Maybe a few tears fall down their faces. But nobody wants to break the silence to remind the other that they are so far apart.

[zumicho]

SEASON ONE: EP2 — RED FLAGS ALL AROUND

it smells like seaweed.

no, this isn’t the ocean. the indoor kitchen has a nice enough view.

it smells like soy sauce too. add sesame oil, tuna, mayonnaise, and pickled plums to the mix. osamu’s hands are busy — assembling and flipping, wiping beads of sweat off his forehead with the back of his palm, adjusting the MSBY baseball cap that neatly tucks his choppy summer cut away. he looks in his element. a chef? father of two? one of those. she makes a mental note.

the porch floorboards creak: a signal for incoming trouble.

bokuto almost tumbles into the doorway as nishinoya follows close behind, both faces plastered with ear-wide grins.

bo - pupils the size of jupiter - juts out his finger. “look.”

two ladybugs, perched on the pad of his pointer.

“what you missed out on.” noya quips. one climbs into her palm.

“where’s shoyo?” she asks him.

the two give each other an uh oh face, then they’re sprinting back outside, knocking over a few articles of furniture before leaving her with him again.

osamu: who was previously oblivious to her presence (whether or not he was faking, is an entirely different conversation). was scoffing. “got stood up?”

she’s rolling her eyes. “why do you ask? going to play knight in shining armor and go with me instead?” the corners of her lips tug.

he’s dumbfounded. or so it seems. whatever it is — the silence is making her nauseous. did he not expect that? was it too much?

“jeez, can’t take a joke? I don’t go for guys with buzzcuts.” that’s not what she wanted to say. his hair looks.. fine. nice, even. still: there’s nothing more satisfying than landing a blow to a man’s ego. especially when the chance waves itself in front of your face.

samu opens his mouth, but her date’s walking down the steps before he can snark out a reply. her attention is diverted. stolen. there’s an odd weight in his chest when her back is turned toward him.

he decides he doesn’t like it.

they’re exchanging a look. unreadable. he’s watching (involuntarily). she walks up closer, and for a moment — osamu freezes.

they’re going to kiss? when they just met?

her hand meets her hip.

“why are you wearing a tie to the beach?”

osamu is wrong.

kuroo goes pale.

author’s note: I’m aware the pacing for the last chapter was rough, there will be improvements trust 🤝 I tried writing this from 3rd pov how do we like?? I want this to feel like watching a show

GUESTLIST @causenessus @guitarstringed-scars @cloudybillows @s1ckntw1st3d @suna-rins-sunshine @hyenagoated @hibernatinghamster @yogurtkags @acowboykisser @yukatoraa @fishrene @iwaizluv @iluvmang @neoclb @kr1nqu @lvtilzs @wave2mia @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @bubooo @bectoshi @gra-eae @cr4yolaas @cloooudddy1 @jaynawayna @ryuverse @miliondollagirl @soulfullystarry @fiannee @yumiecheesecrackers @ast4rg1rl @eujoana89 @whenanafallsinlove @arraxthatsonjah @staileykout @kaiiibxby @miiyas @serossidechick @chososcamgirl @yuminako @diorzs @muyyie @krissiekris

[cactusjuiceisquenchy]

Thinking about Kuroo and

And

AND HOW MUCH THIS MUST HAVE MEANT FOR HIM

It goes to show just how much thought Furadate put into their futures and who they would end up growing up to be because— of course he becomes a sports promoter?? After Highschool where he got two of THE MOST seemingly disinterested players into admitting they like volleyball and had fun because of HIS efforts,, mans turned that into his entire job. It is such a fitting end to his arc I’m gonna cry.

[axel-tiredstudent]

💌

CONTENT WARNING // suggestive/slightly nsft (the whole drawing below)

[everykindofnerd13]

There are two possible versions of timeskip Kenma in my head. The widely accepted Private Stand-Offish Gamer Kenma who doesn’t share his personal life with his viewers at all, and the only reason his viewers know that he and Kuroo are dating is because Kuroo posts about it.

This is very cute, very sweet. Always makes for some cutie scenes where Kenma glances off screen and then shuts off his camera and mutes his mic so he can talk to Kuroo without a word. I like that, it’s sweet.

HOWEVER

I also LOVE the idea of Kenma telling his viewers EVERYTHING like he has a strict streaming schedule and on Sundays he plays cozy games. And it’s so chill it’s basically a just chatting stream. He kicks back in his chair, one knee up and plays consoles games rather than PC for simplicity’s sake. Usually he gravitates towards Animal Crossing and Stardew but he’s played other cozy games on stream before. Either way, it doesn’t matter, because while Kenma plays he talks with his chat about his day, his cats, his work, his friends, and most importantly his boyfriend.

And his fans EAT IT UP. They are always so eager to hear about Kuroo’s most recent antics and escapades, and Kenma is more than happy to share them. He talks about when Kuroo was being funny, embarrassing, cute, all of it, and the chat eats it up. At some point they start calling Kuroo “our boyfriend” which Kenma doesn’t really mind in the end, it’s not like any of these people really know Kuroo, and Kenma knows how much Kuroo loves him.

Sometimes, while he’s talking, Kuroo will duck into the room and it’s like a spark, Kenma’s face brightens just that little bit as Kuroo leans over to kiss him on the forehead, which Kenma leans into like a cat. When it’s been a good day, Kuroo will pull over his own chair and he and Kenma will wordlessly rework until Kuroo can play the game with him and they’ll talk to chat in tandem, Kuroo sharing stories about his day, and then about Kenma.

When it’s a bad day, Kuroo will reach his hand out to cover the camera and kiss Kenma on the lips. Tehcnically, they’re hiding it but Kenma’s mics not muted and the chat can hear the light smack when they pull apart. Kenma will then cover his mic, muffling his words and they’ll share a few soft words until one of two things happens, Kuroo waves goodbye to the chat wordlessly then leaves with a gentle squeeze of Kenma’s hand, or Kenma stands up and Kuroo takes his seat before Kenma resettles in his lap and lets his boyfriend nuzzle into his neck while he keeps playing and chatting for a while, no words exchanged, no explanation given.

Either way, Kuroo usually returns to his normal lively self quickly, either re-entering the room post-shower and snack to join the stream or slowly coming back online after some time just listening to his lover’s voice.

[owlyflufff]

Something about Bokuto growing familiar with Akaashi's handwriting throughout their high school years, whether it's through little notes on how to improve that Akaashi leaves for him or the way caught Akaashi writing little tidbits of writing in a notebook or two.

Still Bokuto Koutarou remembers Akaashi Keiji's handwriting very well, it's a lot more elegant than his. He can recognize the particular way some letters are written, signs of something so precise, accurate and careful. It's very Akaashi-like.

By the time they've parted ways (or if Bokuto graduating but still going into the gym regardless to see Akaashi and the new recruits is considered parting ways), Akaashi's handwriting is still as memorable and recognizable to him. Bokuto knows it the same way he knows Akaashi so well.

Though merely sending a text message is more convenient and easier by a long mile, Bokuto decides to write a letter to Akaashi during his college days. Nothing admittedly prompts him to do it (he's always been one to try different things afterall), but he does it anyway, picking up pen and paper and humming a little tune as he crafts little stories, tales and experiences with his words.

His rambles and thoughts only for Akaashi and Akaashi to bear witness to.

A few days after sending the letter, no response. Akaashi doesn't bring it up either in text messages or conversation and for a little while Bokuto considers maybe it was a bit too silly of an idea.

Until a letter slips underneath his door and Bokuto doesn't even need to read where it came from before he's swiftly opening the envelope.

There is something to be said about seeing Akaashi's handwriting again. He misses it.

His finger gently trails along the paper, a soft smile on his lips as he reads Akaashi's response and his own tidbits of stories and tales, the chaos that is being Fukurodani's captain now in his stead. It doesn't take long before Bokuto is reaching for his pen and paper once more, writing another letter with just as much enthusiasm.

The exchange of letters between them last longer than Bokuto expected, but it would be an understatement to say he was happy in regards to it.

There is one day however, that Bokuto notices something is amiss.

Perhaps his eyes are just deceiving him, but he notices how some of the words are tangled. They aren't written the same way Bokuto recognizes them, not as careful as he had remembered them to be. It's a little odd to say the least but Bokuto merely assumes that it's just a little off detail and goes on, pen and paper already on the table as he writes back a response.

It gets worse.

The soft smile that was once there draws into a frown on Bokuto's lips as Bokuto notices how Akaashi's handwriting gets progressively messier. With every letter that he receives the words on the letter are getting harder to read, ink splatters and smudges on the paper. It doesn't help that the paragraphs start to get shorter and shorter with each passing letter Akaashi sends back.

Bokuto knows Akaashi's handwriting far too well but he knows Akaashi Keiji even more. Something is definitely wrong.

He's a new member of the MSBY team by then, having not been able to visit Akaashi as frequently when Akaashi also graduated. However this time he doesn't waste time, purchasing a ticket and making it over to Akaashi's apartment.

He doesn't know if it's a blessing or curse that his hunch was right.

There is something to be said about seeing someone so dear to you, with far too dark and deep circles under their eyes, room as though a whirlwind had disrupted and destroyed the former order he once recognized and Akaashi -- Akashi who had order at the forefront of his mind, Akaashi who gave reminders and ensuring Bokuto was on track, Akaashi who was always so careful and steady, now huddled up by his desk with trembling hands.

And if Bokuto stays the night, hugging him close and whispering nothing but soothing words to save him from another breakdown. If he shares the bed, letting Akaashi get the sleep he so desperately needed against the crook of his neck, watching over him and pulling him closer into his embrace. If he visits more often than once, bringing food and stories that start to slowly put a smile on Akaashi's face once more, no one would ever need to know save for the two of them.

Well kept moments shared and cherished between them, just like each other's letters they've kept and collected throughout the years. A stack of them safe and sitting snugly in a corner of their bedrooms.

They don't write letters to each other anymore. Instead there are sticky notes on a refrigerator, of food that needs to be purchased, chores to be done and little reminders. Of little doodles within folded paper sneaked into each other's bags, consisting of owls, hearts and smiley faces.

There's no need to write about their everyday lives, not when they get to share it constantly now within the confines of their shared apartment.

And as Bokuto looks to the side, seeing Akaashi leaning against his shoulder and writing something on a few drafts for Udai's next manga, he notices the handwriting once more. It's not as messy as it used to be, but neither is it the same manner Bokuto had grown to recognize. It's getting there though, slowly returning to same careful, steady and eased handwriting he had cherished silently throughout the years.

He kisses Akaashi's head, and knows that it's enough.

[reineydraws]

your irregular reminder that i peddle the kryk agenda and that yaku is my favourite 🥰

[lanirawhoney]

Making up for that one kghn, long distance beach piece from 2023, with new happy beach boyfriends😘

[nartml]

live footage of me, remembering that iwaizumi and oikawa are on opposite sides of the world and oikawa has gotten his argentinian citizenship, so he plans to stay there for a good, long time: