#mentions of akaashi

[auragasmics]

HE LOVES IT WHEN I...

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂♡ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ synopsis! sugar daddies have a sweet tooth for all their sugar babies. but for you, these rich dilfs are ready to spoil you rotten for all your cute quirks!

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂♡ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂° ˚ ₒ pairings! sugar daddy bokuto koutarou, ushijima waktoshi, and akaashi keiji x fem! reader

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂♡ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂° ˚ ₒ cw! 1.7k, drabble + headcannon format, age gap (hq men are early 40s, reader is late 20s), car sex, oral ( m -> f), daddy kink, backshots, fingering, mirror sex, teasing, slight degrading, use of petnames

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂° ˚ ₒ xoxo, chris! sigh...i love bokuto sm! he can eat me 25/8. ushi can too!

pt.1

Sugardaddy!Bokuto loves it when you say thank you.

It turns him on to unbelievable lengths. It follows the same old routine, one he doesn’t plan to change anytime soon. Each time you accepted yet another bag filled with your latest hauls, you turned to the doting man, his hand eagerly waiting to catch your own. 

With a faint smile present on your lips, the soft coos of your voice rose to Bokuto’s ear, coaxing for his copal hues to widen. The pair of words were simple mannerisms, instilled from a young age for all. But whenever it rolled off your tongue, the porcelain shades of Bokuto’s skin couldn’t hold back the innocent hues of red from surfacing. 

All he needed to hear was your pretty mouth say it one more time that day, just once more. 

“Aht, don’t push my head away. That’s just mean,” Bokuto pouted, the pads of his fingers digging into the limp plush of your calves. He’s got all his weigh on you, pushing you down onto the backseat of his car. You winced mindlessly, your hazy eyes flickering among the space Bokuto occupied between your legs. Your fingers lazily carded through his locks, strength dwindling by the second.

 “B-Bo…I can’t take anymore,” you slurred, resting your head along the sleek platinum headboard. You couldn’t begin to comprehend what snapped inside Bokuto, his insistence leading to you gasping for a lick of air. He didn’t give you time to slip from the citrine dress you wore, only to be bunched around your bucking hips. 

“‘M so sorry, Princess. You just looked so good today, I wanted a piece of you,” he mumbled incoherently, his busy lips latching onto the twitching bud of your clit. He's relentless, working the slicked muscles to paint sticky strokes along the bud.  

He’d been tucked away in his own heaven, relishing in every drop of your essence that spilled into his mouth. He pulled at least three orgasms from you this way, each one slower than the last. 

“Wait–I can’t cum again, Bokuto please!” you sobbed, your back forcing out a harsh arch. You frantically nudged yourself deeper into Bokuto’s hold, your hips swiping at whatever could be caught. 

Sharing in your urgency, Bokuto kept his tongue pressed into your folds, the voids of his eyes taking in the sight before him. He always did love when you chased after your own high, using him however you saw fit. 

He pulled his hindering grip from your legs, allowing for your thighs to smother him in a swift close. Not another syllable had to be uttered as you approached your high, both hands grasping handfuls of Bokuto’s hair. 

A bubbling fit of words fled from your lips, Bokuto giggling at the view. He drew himself from your cunt, placing a final kiss onto the exposed bundle of nerves. He rested back onto his haunches, keeping his hunkering figure hovered above your own. 

As he swiped the pad of his thumb along the spit-ridden mess of your lips, he whispered to your dazed visage gently. “Be nice and use your words. Now, what do you say fr’ me, Baby?”

Through your heavy lashes, you mustered the bits of energy to respond, granting a satisfied smirk to creep onto Bokuto’s face.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

Sugardaddy!Ushijima loves it when you spend his money.

God, does he love it? The swipes of his card, the sifting through the thick bills tucked away in his wallet, Ushijima was addicted to it all. He didn’t even have to say a word, your hand already reaching for whatever mode of payment he had for the day. 

You weren’t aware of it, but there was a special glint that illuminated the olive hues of his eyes. Maybe it was how you twirled the thin sheet of plastic between your fingers, whistling some tune to pass the moments of processing. 

He was obsessed with the fact that every heel beneath the soles of your feet, every ring that hugged your finger, and every dress that clung to your body was all his doing, all stemming from the fruits of his labor. 

When that gratifying giggle rang from your throat, it was enough to fuel a flame within Ushijima’s belly—something he knew would be extinguished soon.

“I can’t hear you, Sweetheart,” Ushijima groaned, his hand prying from your stuttering hips. You lifted your head from the tear-stained pillow, pulling the swell of your lip through your teeth. “It’s so fucking good, Toshi! I w-want more,” you keened, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. 

Ushijima returned to the sight laid before him, the plump curves of your ass pressed against his tensed abdomen. Tracing down the arch of your spine, he was met with the glassy voids of your lidded eyes, spools of drool decorating your lips. 

Taking a provoking turn, he drew his hips from their post, dragging his length from your walls. He chuckled at the sound of your cries, the sadist whims surfacing to the forefront of Ushijima’s mind.

“C’mon Baby, you gotta work for all those bags you got today,” he surmised, landing a playful smack on your ass. The mewling whimpers from your lungs came to a sudden halt once you noticed what Ushijima held in the palm of his hand.

The hefty stack of blue bills sat snug in his hand, waving them to your gawking glance. “If you can make me cum just like this, I’ll add everything in my hand to your allowance,” Ushijima wagered snarkily. “Deal?”

With a sheepish nod, you agreed to take on Ushijima’s bet, planting your weakened knees into the mattress. A heavy breath brewed inside your lungs, acting as encouragement for your newly placed endeavors. Ushijima knew all too well how big he was, considering he was always so insistent on taking charge. 

Yet watching his pretty girl struggle to take him was just one of his favorite pastimes as of late.

With the single dive of your hips, your walls enveloped Ushijima’s cock in the viscid warmth once more. A stout arch coaxed itself into your spine as a keening sob sang from your lips. An overwhelming euphoria was placed upon your weary body, stemming from fullness residing within your cunt. Your digits dug into the cotton plush of the pillow, barely grounding your mind.

“Fuck–you must really want it, don’t you Baby?” Ushijima chuckled raggedly, the faint patterns of stars clouding his vision. He hadn’t anticipated your eagerness, the swift drops of your hips resting against his flexed abdomen. He felt everything, every twitch of your walls, every roll of your hips, even every kiss the head of his cock pressed into your cervix. 

The explicit clash of skin began the soft comforting tunes to Ushijima’s ears, hiding his blissful whimpers behind the music. His eyes were trained to the unfolding scene, from tracing the slick sheen of sweat dusting the curve of your back to catching each wave that passed through the supple skin of your ass. Reminding of something that of a fever dream, Ushijima melded into the amorous aura, quickly forgetting the bet he’d made with you. 

Giving in to his fading sense of self, Ushijima drizzled the stack of bills along your body, each one drifting to cover the sheets beneath you both. With his hand now free, Ushijima reached out to you, cupping your chin as he presented you with a single rhetorical question. 

“Who’s my rich little slut?”

Sugardaddy! Akaashi loves it when you flaunt your new clothes.

He finds it to be the highlight of his day. It’s even become his sense of downtime from the frantic day, hopping from shop to shop all across the city. He’ll sit in his favorite leather armchair with a cup of the richest brandy in hand, watching your giddy reflection paraded about through the mirror. 

“Don’t you look pretty? Told you this color suits you best, Sweetheart,” Akaashi cooed, his chin nuzzled within the crook of your neck. You couldn’t bother to respond to his compliment, not with his thick digits drawing relaxed circles along the supple bud of your clit. You clawed at his forearm in protest, the silk fabric of his dress shirt catching each scratch of your nails.

Perched atop his lap, Akaashi kept your thighs parted for his entertainment, his eyes pinned to the mirror’s reflection. He admired it all, the staggering rises and falls of your chest, your trembling lips, and the spilling streams of spit lining your chin. He only wished you could revel in the same vision he bore witness to. 

At his tender handling, your body melted into Akaashi’s hold. From the frantic beats of your heart, the nerves beneath your skin prickling with need, and the hot pants warming the air, it was all for him. Your back arched against his chest, squirming amidst the mind-numbing solace Akaashi delivered. 

“Look at that, making such a mess on my fingers,” he hummed, the tips of his digits ghosting the fluttering slit of your cunt. He allowed for a single finger to graze past your entrance, the lewd squelching spurring you on. “P-Please Keiji…don’t tease me like that. Just–” you sobbed, your hips bucking to meet his fleeting touch. 

“Sorry, baby. Not until you tell me how pretty you are,” he whispered, painting your limped jaw with lingering pecks. Drifting down to the pulse of your throat, Akaashi nipped at the skin, leaving the slightest hints of marks in his stead. 

His calming tone flew to your ear, earning your hazed attention. “Look in the mirror and repeat after me,” he instructed softly. You nodded concurringly, the lids of your eyes prying from their screwed hold. 

You were met with Akaashi’s narrowed glare, the darkened hues of his eyes pinned on you. Embarrassment rang through you, eyes glazing over your pitiful state. What caught your immediate attention was the ruby dress he’d just purchased sitting around your waist. 

Not to mention the pornographic sight of your cunt on full display for him, inducing for a merciful whimper to creep out your lungs. 

Yet for Akaashi, his own concern was hearing that voice of your repeat every word that soon left from his mouth. “I’m Akaashi’s…” he began, waiting for your frail reply.

“I’m Akaashi’s…” you uttered shyly, the inescapable heat swarming beneath your cheeks. He noticed your resistance, matching it with lingering swipes of his digits between your glossed folds. 

“Pretty Girl. I’m Akaashi’s pretty girl,” he compiled together, shifting back into his seat patiently. You swallowed the lump sitting in your throat, bundling the bits of energy to comply with his wishes. 

“I-I’m Akaashi’s pretty girl,” you whimpered out at last, granting a smile to spread along his lips.

“That’s my good girl. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

[solitesse]

Shoutout to Haikyuu!! for showing the diversity of the autism spectrum!

We have :

Ushijima "I have no idea of what’s going on" Wakatoshi

Kageyama "I can’t read social cues & it pisses me off" Tobio

Sakusa "Don’t you dare touch me" Kiyoomi

Akaashi "I felt overwhelmed and anxious so I made some very specific lists to feel better" Keiji

Kozume "I was just looking for Pokémon Tier Lists online and ended up not eating, drinking or sleeping for the last 24 hours" Kenma

Kita "Do not disturb my routine under any circumstances" Shinsuke (+ bonus point for the "crackly" jacket)

[6okuto]

i write so you know i love you

🧺 #27: "handwritten letters" with akaashi for @shobvrry :D

the first letter akaashi wrote for you was a short, anxious confession slid into your locker, folded neatly with a star sticker to keep it shut.

i just wanted to say i like you, and i’d like to take you on a date sometime if that’s okay with you. please don’t worry if you don’t feel the same way, but also please pretend you didn’t read this if so. thanks for being my friend. i’ll see you tomorrow :)

he didn’t expect to see you waiting for him after practice that day, the familiar paper in hand. with his ending request, among a dozen catastrophizing explanations stood one reasonable for your presence—

“i like you too, ’ji,” you said a little faster than practiced, heart stumbling at the sight of him.

it was sunset as you held the letter in one hand, and for the first time, keiji’s hand in the other on your way home—pink and orange ribbons of light finding a temporary home in interlocked fingers and brushing arms.

the confession is still carefully tucked away in a box of other gifts and letters you’ve received—the first in a section just from him. he could’ve easily texted at least a third of them, you pointed out once, a few days before your first anniversary, but he only shook his head. it was the romanticism of it all, and—

“what if you texted back right away? i wasn’t ready to handle that, i probably would’ve thrown up or ran away or something.”

his feelings after your first date, a request to see you after school a month after, then the letter celebrating your one month anniversary exactly 31 days later.

they built and built—words pulled from an endless well of love and poetic prose in hopes of capturing just how much you meant to him. you still like flipping through them all, on anniversaries or an otherwise insignificant thursday afternoon.

seeing the different decorations and envelopes and letter lengths throughout the years, only keiji’s handwriting remains the same throughout. it’s the same one that writes “i hope these aren’t sour,” “don’t forget your project by the printer,” “i hope you have a good day :),” and i love you, i love you, i love you.

so when your four year anniversary nears and he makes a remark about his gift, you ask “another letter for me?”

keiji stills, fingers slowing down as they flip the next page in his novel—dostoevsky, you think. his index and thumb start to pull the corner (not enough to fold, but reminiscent of what he does to the hem of his shirt when he’s nervous anyway.) “maybe?”

he fixes his posture, sitting up straighter on the couch. “is that…i know i write them a lot, huh? would you like—”

“no!” you shake your head. “no, i like the letters a lot, keiji, i promise. i just,”—you move next to him and frown—“i hope you don’t feel like you have to write them, you know? i don’t know how your hands don’t hurt a lot after. you could type them out and i’d be just as happy.”

but keiji shakes his head, and it feels a little similar to three years ago. “no, that’s not the same at all. i want to write them for you,”—he closes his book with his thumb as a bookmark, the other hand moving to hold yours—“that’s what makes them special.”

“plus formatting them digitally wouldn’t be any easier than my double-sided tape—do you want to take the joy of tape and stickers away from me?” he raises a brow and squeezes your hand in his.

you snort. “okay, you know what? fair enough.”

and keiji pours a lot of honesty, of himself, into his letters, but maybe one thing he’ll keep a secret is how often his hand cramps and red indents and cuts form on his fingers. because it’s inconsequential in the end, really nothing in comparison to the bright smile and hug you give him when he hands you the next letter a couple of weeks later, carefully folded in an envelope with a star sticker on the front.

[owlyflufff]

After all these years, we finally have art of Akaashi eating his supposed favorite food, we've reached a milestone

[boogernotbogger]

Strawberry ice cream

Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader

Rating: teens and above

Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi and y/n meet at calculus class in college and become friends. However, y/n slowly develops feelings for Sakusa.

Word count: 6282

A/N: Please support my works on AO3 here

Weird.

It’s the first thought you have when you see the curly-haired boy poke his head into your classroom. Half his face is obscured by a mask, and you can see two tiny moles peeking out from under his hair.

It’s your second day of college, and first lecture of calculus. People are starting to trickle in, as you’re here early. And yet, the boy looks anxious. He walks in gingerly, and thoroughly sanitises the desk and chair before he sits in front of you, at the window seat. The morning sunlight streams in, and bounces through his curls, making him look like some baroque-style painting. You look out of the window and smile. This is going to be an interesting semester.

~~~

Two weeks later, it is most certainly turning out to be a not fun semester. The workload is already huge, making friends is difficult when your schedule is occupied with purely lectures and sleep, and homesickness, it turns out, is a real thing that you aren’t invulnerable to. 

The masked weirdo in your calculus class seems allergic to people, and for some reason, it is really not easy to pay attention to sequences and continuity and what not, when the only thing your eyes latch onto is a halo of perfectly formed ringlets, interwoven with magical drops of sunlight.

You learn that his name is Sakusa Kiyoomi, he is a volleyball player, and a misanthrope through and through.

~~~

It takes time, but you two start to talk.

It is your third week of college, you just spoke to a blond boy more introverted than you, and you finally got your sleep schedule down. You walk into class in high spirits emboldened by your successes, plop your bag down into your seat, and go stand in front of Sakusa. He flinches, but relaxes by a smidge when he sees you not coming any closer.

“Good morning Sakusa-kun, I’m l/n y/n. we’ve never spoken before and that is kind of weird since we sit close to each other. I’m a first-year statistics student. You?”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi, first year economics. Nice to meet you.”

And thus, started your friendship.

~~~

Two months into your college life, you are fast friends with the blond, Kozume Kenma. He introduces you to Akaashi Keiji, and their respective roommates, two incredibly loud and embarrassing second years, with ridiculous hairstyles. Apparently, the four of them had been friends since their school days and played volleyball together, though the seniors seldom hung out with you as they were always busy.

By now you have also had enough time to get to know your own roommates, to watch sappy romance movies with them, and pledge lifelong friendship to them. Your social life has never been better.

And of course, come calculus class, you meet Sakusa, chat with him about whatever novel you last read, and listen to him describe the intricacies of volleyball. You find yourself thinking that you have never met anyone as passionate about anything as Sakusa is about volleyball.

His dark eyes get a glint to them, and though he refuses to take off his mask, his voice comes out clearer than anytime else. He gestures wildly with his hands, and his hair keeps flopping onto his forehead. He pushes it back impatiently each time, but continues to nod his head off each time you understand a concept clearly.

He kind of looks like one of those little dolls with springs on the bottom, that you stick on your car dashboard for amusement, with the way he bounces on his spot with enthusiasm.

It’s cute.

And you notice he has pretty hands. Like, really pretty hands.

You notice the way his eyebrows quirk in amusement when you talk about the second-hand embarrassment you endure, caused by the heroine of whichever book is your newest obsession. It makes you want to see his full smile, maybe elicit a laugh. You notice the way he raises his right eyebrow until his moles disappear under his hair, when you squeal about something especially hot in the story.

You notice that you seem to be noticing a lot about Sakusa.

~~~

One month later and you find yourself hanging out with the oddest group of friends you have ever had. You have your two roommates, one loud and social, the other adventurous and kind. Then there’s Kenma, who’s always got his nose in a game, and his ears peeled for any gossip he may inadvertently come across. There’s Keiji-kun, and he’s your favourite. He loves his studies, and he’s quiet, but he loves reading and oh boy does he have a talent for overthinking. He’s the most relatable person you have come across in college.

And of course, there is Sakusa. He is reclusive, but by now you know that it is only because he cares more about the germs on people than the people themselves. He tends to hang out more with you or with just the other two boys, than with the whole group. You are yet to figure out whether that is because he deems the other two too germy for him, or because he only likes people who like volleyball.

It had been a surprise to you when you’d introduced him to your group, only for the other two boys to just nod as if they knew him already. And then they’d told you about their volleyball history, and how his school always beat theirs.

“Oh yes y/n, didn’t I tell you Bokuto-san considered him his rival, because Sakusa-san was the nation’s top spiker, and Bokuto-san narrowly missed being in the top 3?” was Keiji’s very succinct explanation of the whole situation.

And that’s how you had found out that not only was Sakusa a volleyball-freak, he was the nation’s top volleyball-freak, and had represented the country several times in the under-19 category. 

(So had Bokuto-san, the owl-like senior who was Keiji’s best friend and captain, but you found that out only when you went to sit in on your college team’s practice sessions.)

(It had bugged you that Sakusa had never told you this before, but you let it go. Sakusa was a very private person, and the only times he spoke voluntarily were when he talked about volleyball. He had no ill intentions.)

~~~

Your first semester ends, and you celebrate with your group by playing games in Kenma’s apartment. It feels nice, talking and laughing with everyone, but after a point, your social battery dips and you find yourself zoning out from whatever banter was currently happening. Something about whether Kenma’s best friend and roommate Kuroo Tetsuro had a better hairstyle than Keiji’s best friend and roommate Bokuto Kotaro.

Honestly though, that wasn’t even a conversation worth having. They both looked stupid. One looked like a rooster shat on his head, the other looked like an owl sponsored his hair gel supplies.

Kenma had dug out an old Monopoly board from somewhere and that was the game currently happening, with you and Sakusa acting as joint bankers. You had both learnt long ago that it is more fun to incite the players against each other than to be one of them. And this was a modified version of Monopoly that you lot had come up with, having a lot of extra and needlessly complicated rules, so it was definitely more fun to just watch.

Sakusa was strangely quiet too. He generally tended to be quiet, but just a couple of hours ago he had gone into a very passionate speech over how strawberry ice cream is the best ice cream to ever exist. He’d accepted no arguments to the contrary.

“It may be pink and look like something Barbie puked, but it tastes exactly like Barbie’s dreams. Strawberry ice cream tastes like freedom and empowerment: I can be anything! It is sweeter than vanilla, not that vanilla is less good, no, vanilla is also a great flavour; it is just that strawberry is superior. Strawberry ice cream is sweet like syrup, like the drinks your grandmother made for you in your childhood when you came home after rolling in mud the whole day. If ‘happy memories’ had a flavour, it would be strawberry. Yes, my argument is based on nostalgia, and you can laugh all you want, but you have to admit that if you had a happy childhood, it was pink. If you didn’t have a happy childhood, well you certainly wish you did. You wish for happy memories and a future you can look out on with hope and love. La vie en rose, I say! Life in pink! That is the wonder of strawberry ice cream! And not to mention, all your childhood drawings of ice cream had a pink scoop dripping off the cone. Whether you want to or not, subconsciously you have all accepted that strawberry is the default, and hence, the best ice cream flavour. Thus, I rest my case.” 

With that, he’d sat back down, and licked off the final drops of his chocolate ice cream, and grabbed the controller for the next round of Mario Kart. You’d clapped, because come on, an impassioned speech like that deserves applause. One single corner of his mouth lifted, and he turned to you to flash you a dimple before his eyes fixed back on the screen. The gesture did not make you imagine what it would be like to poke your tongue in his dimple.

But after that incident, he was mostly silent, the speech probably draining him of whatever social battery he did have. He sat next to you now, calculating the amount each person owed the bank, and adding the penalties Keiji had accumulated from making fun of the strawberry-speech.

Yes, the penalties were for incidents that happened before the game started. You can’t argue with the banker for the banker is God.

You mostly left the banker-ing to Sakusa, while you got lost in your daydreams. Kenma was now in jail because he said that his school’s libero was better than Sakusa’s.

Which reminded you of the last book you’d read. It had had a character who was in jail for most of the story. He’d coordinated his attack plans from there. When the villain came to taunt him, he’d very suavely escaped and kabedonned her. But just when he expected her to swoon from his good looks and his proximity, she’d pulled out a dagger from under her skirt and stabbed him.

You’ve always wanted a dagger to hide under your clothes. Actually, you wouldn’t mind being kabedonned either, but Sakusa had very firmly declared the gesture ‘lame’ when you’d told him about it, and now you remembered that you were supposed to be annoyed at him for it. Because seriously, the audacity!

DHONN!

You jerk upwards to see the group laughing at you. Sakusa had apparently just banged a juice can on the table next to your face to get your attention.

“Huh?”

“You’d zoned out for longer than usual y/n. and you looked pissed. All ok?” Sakusa asks, but he is clearly amused.

“Kabedons are cool,” you declare, and get up to fetch yourself another slice of pizza.

He just snorts.

For some reason, it sounds cute. And now your brain is filled with images of a cute pink piggy with an incredibly curly tail. Like an oinky Kiyoomi. Kiyooink.

You laugh. You are definitely going to tell him this later.

~~~

The next semester starts, and you and Sakusa don’t have classes in common anymore. You see him around campus less, and spend less time together. Now that he has also adjusted to college life, he is paying more attention to volleyball. The end of the previous semester was filled with matches, but this semester he spends less time with the college team, and more time with the national under-19 team. You attend some practices when you can, sometimes with friends. Keiji-kun and Kenma explain various moves to you, and introduce you to other players they know. It is a fun experience. All the boys are like Sakusa, incredibly passionate about the sport, incredibly talented, and at least a foot taller than you. They towered over you when you first went to talk to them, but you soon learn that they are all sweet goofy kids with only volleyballs for brains.

You notice that they maintain a physical distance from Sakusa, only getting closer to him when necessary. But even so, he seems more at-home with his team than in your motley group of friends. It makes your heart ache sometimes, that there is someone right in front of you, whom you want to be closer to, but there is a seemingly uncrossable chasm between you. And yet he would turn towards you and flash a dimple, and you would berate yourself for not being grateful for the attention he already gives you.

~~~

First year ends, and you all go home for the holidays. You make no plans to meet each other, since you will inevitably meet once the new semester starts. You spend your two-month break laying about in bed, watching anime, and reading books.

You also make sure to call and text your friends regularly. Keiji-kun sends you memes, Kenma texts you about whatever anime character you get obsessed with. Your roommate-groupchat is filled with vacation photos of you 3. Life is good.

You notice that Sakusa never texts. Sakusa never calls. Sakusa never reaches out to you. But when you do call him, you both talk for hours, and time passes by in the blink of an eye.

With every phone call, every text, and every laugh you share, you wish and wish he had started it. You wish he had been the first to reach out to you. You wish, for once, he would call you. You wish, for once, he would share something about himself with you that was only for you to know.

You wish, and you wish, and you wish.

~~~

Second year starts, and all your friendships pick up right where they left off. Except that Sakusa is hardly ever around anymore.

When you asked about his absence, he simply said, “I studied hard and played hard during the holidays. Now I do not have to put in as much effort into classes, because most of the hard work is already done. I can focus on volleyball to my heart’s content.”

And that is what he does. You have no idea whether or not he attends his classes, but whenever he has free time, either he is studying by himself, or he is off doing drills by himself. It has been a full year since you became friends with him, and yet, he seems as distant today as he was on the first day.

It hurts. You miss having more free time to spend with him. And yet, you have no right to complain. His first love is volleyball, and he has made it clear to you that his priorities will never change.

It hurts, but you push it aside. You have other friends to spend your time with. On days when all six of you unexpectedly have free time, or on less academically challenging days, your group, including Sakusa, hangs out together. You generally go to the local fast-food joint, he would sanitise the table, and never take off his mask. But he would be there. He would be there for these small moments, and you cherish every mask-covered smile he gives, every sarcastic comment he makes.

You miss your friend, but for now, this is enough for you.

~~~

Second year passes thus: you are swamped with coursework, you hang out with your group whenever possible, you go out exploring the city with your roommates, and you get fleeting moments with Sakusa.

You’re almost happy with the set-up, but each time you talk to Sakusa, you want more. You want to talk to him more. You want him to talk to you more. You want to listen to his excited volleyball rants.

You want the days when your biggest problem was your inability to focus on differentiation because of a head of gold-infused raven curls. You want your friend.

So you call. You roughly know what his schedule is. Sometimes you go meet him when practice gets over, sometimes you call. He is tired, irritable, and excited all at once, but he seems to love gushing over whatever play he tried that day, and you enjoy the moments you spend with him.

He never calls though. He tells you that he appreciates you calling him, because your company is always welcome, yet, he never calls. You know that that in no way implies that he doesn’t like you, and yet, it hurts.

You tell yourself it hurts because he is your friend, and he has a scarcity value attached to him.

~~~

The only difference between second year and third year is that, Sakusa now has an undercut.

The semester starts with your group meeting up to celebrate Japan’s performance in the recent 2016 Rio Olympics. Sakusa and Bokuto had been second-string spikers on the team, and Sakusa had been called on-court multiple times as pinch server. His nasty wrists made it damn near impossible to dig out the ball, even on the international level – the world stage. You were so, so proud of your friend, and your celebrations continued well beyond midnight.

When the party finally ends, it is with Keiji dragging off a mildly-drunk but sleepy Bokuto, back to their apartment, Kenma asleep on the couch, and Sakusa offering to walk you back to your apartment. The other two girls had left already, since they have classes early in the morning and you don’t.

You walk back in silence, and for the first time, it is suffocating. You look up at him, wanting to gauge his mood after such a raucous celebration, and notice that he hasn’t put his mask back on yet. You figured out pretty early on in your friendship that that is a sign that he trusts you aren’t disgusting enough to warrant wearing a mask around. It’s quite flattering really.

“The weather is nice, isn’t it?” he starts, and stops immediately when you snort at the lame conversation starter.

“Well, you aren’t talking, so I thought I could try,” he shrugs, and you smile.

“Not a bad effort,” you answer. “Well, Sakusa-kun, we are being blessed with sunshine these days, and it’s very nice and warm at all times. Although, one could argue that the warmth right now is due to your inherent hotness.”

You look up at him, anticipating his reaction, and he doesn’t disappoint. He throws his head back and laughs, a quiet, precious thing, and you bottle up this moment to keep with you for the next time you miss him.

“I missed this. Training was gruelling, and the matches were exhilarating. I was always so high on emotions that by the time the Games were over, I was just done. Exhausted. Came home and just slept for the next week. I didn’t realise how much I missed your nonsense until just now, when I have to deal with your nonsense.” His eyes are soft, but all you can focus on is-

“Nonsense?! Sakusa Kiyoomi, I will have you know that the only nonsense here is you...”

He laughs again, and you trail off. You’ve never noticed before, but he’s grown. He was always tall and well-built, but there is a softness in the way he speaks now, that wasn’t there when you first met him. The way he carries himself has changed too, shoulders held back and proud. He is still the wary boy you had befriended two years ago, but there is a manly charm that wasn’t there before. And suddenly you want to continue talking. Comforting as it is now, you don’t want the conversation to trail off into the sweet silence it is heading towards. You feel the sudden urge to know him, stronger than you ever have before, and before you can help it, you blurt out, “You could have called me, you know. Or texted. I missed you as well, but I didn’t want to disturb you during the freaking Olympics! But even otherwise, you do know that I would like it if you reached out to me, right? Like on normal, non-Olympic days, you could text just because you feel like it.”

He frowns, and says, “I probably should. Honestly, it’s not like I don’t text you on purpose, I just kind of… forget. I don’t forget you, I just get caught up in stuff, or my brain is filled with TV static, and I don’t reach out to anybody at all. But I’ll try, okay? Yeah, you would probably ditch me if you are the only one forced to keep this relationship going, and that would be a pity.”

He reaches up to ruffle his hair, a rare occurrence because hair is filled with germs, and that’s when you notice it. The back of his head is buzzed close to his scalp, but hidden by the longer curls above. “You got an undercut?”

He frowns at the sudden change in topic, but nods, “Yeah, my nape kept getting sweaty, and other guys in the national team had undercuts and they found it functional, so I thought I’d try it. It does feel very nice actually. I still have my curls, but I don’t have to deal with too much sweat. Why?”

“I noticed it just now. It looks good. Really brings out your jaw. Probably explains why your jaw looks more prominent now. Good going.” You give him a thumbs up as a reassurance that it does look good, and turn around to enter your building. “Thanks for dropping me off, get home safe, okay?”

He waves, and disappears into the night, his own apartment a short walk from yours. You sigh as you climb the stairs.

Good was an understatement. Hot was better. Sexy was probably apt. You wonder if he will let you run your fingers through his shorn locks, and sigh again.

You are a reader. Perhaps all you can do is dream.

~~~

After the party at Kenma’s, college life went back to normal. Sakusa seldom hung out with the group, choosing instead to spend his time on volleyball. But after your conversation, he made it a point to text you every once in a while. True, they were just forwarded ‘good morning’ messages, sometimes memes about clichéd romance tropes, but it was better than nothing. Each text from him made your heart beat just a little faster.

~~~

It does not come as a surprise to you when you realise you have a crush on your friend. On your friend whose heart belongs to volleyball. On your friend who never opens up to you, and who is happy talking to you once every couple of weeks.

You embrace the feeling, and the sadness it brings with it. What else can you do? He’s one of your dearest friends, and he does deserve to know how you feel about him.

But again, you have a crush on someone you already love dearly. Can it even be considered a crush? You’ve had crushes before, and those feelings were always made of just a combination of wild giggling and nervous excitement. This however, this is a warmth in your chest and a smile on your face. This feeling, is a quiet little laugh, dispersing in the night like dandelions in the wind. This feeling is the excited glint in dark eyes when passions are aroused. This feeling is a cute head bobbing along to your words. This feeling is two moles on a forehead, curly hair over a shorn nape, pretty fingers gesturing wildly.

This feeling, it feels like strawberry ice cream on a warm summer day, when you’ve just returned home.

~~~

Obviously, you tell the rest of your friends. You do need people you can fangirl to about him. They’re quite supportive really, given the circumstances. They encourage you to tell him how you feel, but Kenma adds, “You need to remember that he may not reciprocate, y/n. In fact, there is a greater chance he won’t reciprocate. I don’t want you to get hurt or lose your friend, but I do think you would feel better if you tell your friend that you’ve got a crush.”

And that is the problem, isn’t it? You want to tell your friend that you have a crush on somebody. It kills you that if you tell him whom you’ve got a crush on, he’ll probably avoid you. But if you don’t tell him, you’ll suffer in silence, wondering about all the ‘what if’s’.

For now, you bury the matter. You want to enjoy this, this feeling, just a little longer.

And so you simp. You squeal over his voice and his muscles with your roommates, you swoon over every sweet gesture he does, and you endlessly simp over his pretty, pretty hands to Keiji-kun. He’s probably grown sick of you by now, but it is funny to see him annoyed.

~~~

Third year ends with Bokuto signing on to Division-1 team MSBY Black Jackals. 

Your last year of college begins with heavy research for your final-year project. On top of that, you now have to study for entrance exams, and college exams, and explore colleges for further studies. You know that you want to go into finance, and for that you now have to deal with an internship on top of everything else.

All of a sudden, you are under more stress than you have ever been in.

And then in the middle of the seventh semester, Sakusa drops a bombshell, “I think I will move to Higashiosaka after my graduation. I want to try out for the Black Jackals. They have Miya Atsumu and Bokuto-san, and I will be lucky to continue working together with those two monsters.”

Your heart stops. You need to tell him. He deserves to know. You had put off your feelings as a problem for the future, but the future is now.

~~~

Barely a week has passed after this conversation, and you call Sakusa crying, “Kiyoomi-kun, please can we meet? My project is going nowhere, and I think I have way too much on my plate right now, and I feel so selfish saying that to a person loaded with the same coursework as me, and is balancing a professional athletic lifestyle on top of it, but I don’t know what else I can do!”

Ten minutes later finds you both sitting on some bricks in an abandoned alley in your neighbourhood.

You rant and rant and cry out all your overwhelming feelings of helplessness about your current academic load. Sakusa sits quietly, and just listens to you cry your heart out, offering water every time you pause for breath.

“… I think that covers everything, I’m sorry for dumping it all on you so suddenly. I think I just got overwhelmed and had to let it all out of my system. I’ll be fine once I sleep,” you conclude.

“It wasn’t a problem at all y/n. And it isn’t selfish to be overwhelmed, or to tell me that you are. I have been balancing volleyball with studies for my whole life, obviously I’m doing fine now. But thanks for trusting me.”

You sniffle a bit more, and manage a small smile. He presses your bottle into your hands, and you chug down more water.

It hurts. He’s your friend, and he’s perfect and it hurts. You hadn’t sought him out today because you wanted him, but because he is your closest friend and his presence comforts you like no one else’s. but he’s sitting right next to you without his mask, despite your disgusting runny nose, and he’s offering to be there for you when you need it, and he tries to message you because it makes you happy, and it just hurts. You need to tell him.

“There’s one more thing. Just hear me out, okay?” you stand up and start pacing and continue without giving him a chance to reply, “I love you. You are one of my best friends and I love you. Except that I also like you. As in, I like you like you. As in, I have a crush on you. Except that you are my friend and I love you, and is it even possible to have a crush on someone you already love so dearly? Therefore, I think I’m in love with you. And it hurts. It hurts that there’s something, no someone, I want so deeply, and they’re right here, but they don’t want me the way I want them. You love volleyball, and you’ll be in Osaka this time next year, and I could try to look for placements there, but then, I should probably just let go, right? I mean, you barely text me because your brain is filled with ‘TV static’, so really, what are the odds you like me the same way I like you? You find romantic stuff lame and you find germs too germy. So yeah. That’s it. I’ll shut up now before I do irreversible damage to our friendship.”

You finally look up and meet his eyes.

~~~

He’s there.

When you’re smiling, he’s there.

When you get excited about your books, he’s there.

When you worry about your fears coming true, he’s there.

And when you’re at your lowest, he’s there.

How could you have been expected not to fall in love with this man? This man who has been there for you through all your highs and lows, who has smiled for you each time you’ve felt joy, who’s laughed with you each time you planned for the happy days ahead, and who’s just been there each time you needed somebody to be there for you; how could you not fall in love with this man?

You look at him. You look at him and you see your best friend, your confidant, your first love. But for the first time, you see beyond his pretty fingers and his soothing smile and his calm rationale. You see the apprehension in his eyes, the very real fear of what is to come.

And even then, he smiles.

He’s there. He’s right there in front of you and you are looking at him, and for the first time, you see a lover.

He must be able to see the hope blooming on your face, for his own tentative smile unfurls into that quiet chuckling laugh you have grown to love.

“I thought it was all in my head y/n. Your weird flirting and the sexual tension that popped up out of nowhere,” he announced, clearly very proud of having figured you out before you announced yourself.

“Weird flirting? I was not trying to flirt…” you started, before he laughed again and started to stride towards you, gleam in his eye as if you were Miya Atsumu’s toss just waiting for him.

“Wha-“ DHHONNN.

You were too stunned to even flinch. Did he just kabedon you? His left forearm was right next to your right ear, and he had a little smirk on his face, probably excited that he caught you off-guard. It was, without a doubt, a kabedon.

Wait. Did Sakusa Kiyoomi just kabedon you?

Did you just experience the first kabedon of your life from Sakusa-I-think-cliché-romance-hero-gestures-are-lame-Kiyoomi?

Holy fuck do you need to fangirl. Right now.

“You really need to work on your flirting skills,” he breathes, his face mere inches from yours, his arm resting so casually near your face that one would think he practised kabedonning as a hobby.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEE-P“

He shoves his palm against your mouth, cutting off your squeal, and very effectively ruining the moment. Obviously, you lick the offending appendage. He looks scandalised.

“One moment. One moment, y/n! I thought I could surprise you with some lame cliché romance-hero move, and you just have to squeal in my face and lick my hand. You think you can look all cool and profess your undying love for me, but I can’t get one moment to one-up you? That’s it, romance over. We are done here.”

He turns away, as if about to leave, his hand still over your mouth. You reach out to grab him, but before you can, he turns back around and scoops both your wrists up in his one hand and pins them above your head in one smooth swoop, as if he practises this stuff every day as a hobby. His left arm has not moved even half an inch from its place near your face.

All you can do is stare at him as his smirk returns, with a light dusting of pink across his pale cheeks, as though he himself can’t believe his smoothness. Clearly, the ruined moment can be salvaged.

Very wisely, you keep your mouth shut and your squeal inside your throat.

He walks further towards you, until you feel your feet touching and there remain only a couple of inches separating your faces.

He deliberately looks down at your lips, before slowly lifting his face to your eyes. His own lips look soft and pink and pouty, and you have no idea what must be happening on your face, but it must be good enough for him to blush harder.

You have dreamed of kissing the pink off those cute pouty lips for ages and now that you actually can, he isn’t moving. He is just looking at you, drinking you in, as if mesmerised by whatever romantic fantasies are unfurling behind your eyes.

Or maybe he is just waiting for you to consent to him kissing you? Your brain very helpfully provides. 

You close your eyes and nod, unable to bear the intensity of the moment.

It seems that that was all he was waiting for because you immediately feel his hand cup your face, leaving its place near you head. And suddenly, you feel the softest pressure against your lips. 

The moment ends as soon as it begins, and when it becomes obvious that it will not continue, you open your eyes. Sakusa Kiyoomi stands in front of you, your face in his hand, your wrists in his other hand, his face as pink as his lips, and all you can say is, “hey man when you have your moment, you decide to end it even before it starts! Kiss me properly, I seem to be unable to move.”

He starts laughing, and dives back towards your face, muffling his laughs against your mouth. His fingers tighten around your wrists, and you squirm, wanting to touch him properly now that you have got your bearings a bit. His hand doesn’t loosen though, damn volleyball hand training!

He smiles against your mouth, as if sensing the direction of your thoughts, and you feel his knees parting your own. Very weakly, you part your legs, knowing that at this point, you are very pliable putty in his very capable volleyballer hands.

He doesn’t let the moment escalate though. All he does his keep one leg between yours to pull you close. He keeps your hands out of reach of his body, with his other arm somehow magically around your waist as if to pull you into him, and continues kissing you.

You decide to make as much of this situation as you can and let your tongue peek out of your mouth, but he pulls back. It feels like rejection until-

“One step at a time y/n. I need to sanitise my hand where you licked me, let’s not go into both our tongues licking the others’ yet.” You deem this as enough of a not-rejection, your ears giddily ringing with the word ‘yet’, as he releases you.

He steps back, letting your arms fall back to your sides, and caresses your jaw once before whipping out his sanitiser and practically dousing his hand in it.

“Want me to set it on fire? Alcohol is flammable and it has a greater chance of killing all germs,” you tease, as he pulls your hands towards him, sanitising your wrists where his hand had held you.

Once he is done sanitising, he turns to you and says, “In case that wasn’t a clear enough answer- yes, I want to date you as well. I love you, and have, for a while. We’ll figure out the future together, okay?”

And before you can answer, he grabs your left hand again, but this time, simply holds it as you both walk towards your neighbourhood. The sky has turned darker by now, a pretty shade of pink that you think very accurately matches the colour on both your cheeks. All you can do is turn towards him and smile your biggest smile, as your brain finally decides to reboot.

Sakusa Kiyoomi loves you. Sakusa Kiyoomi is yours for the foreseeable future. Sakusa Kiyoomi is holding your hand in his.

Sakusa Kiyoomi just turned one of your deepest kabedonning fantasies into reality with the same hand that is holding yours right now.

You can’t help it. You are a fangirl after all.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE……”

“DAMN WOMAN WILL YOU STOP SQUEALING YOU SOUND LIKE A RAT TRING TO EVADE CAPITAL PUNISHMENT!”

But his smile never wanes, and his hand tightens around yours, pulling you closer.

~~~

“Hey, I’m really in the mood for some strawberry ice cream right now.”

“Hah, so you agree strawberry is superior!”

[immamapletreekid]

i need an entire movie or even better an entire season of just the fukurodani vs mujinazaka match

[bl0pers]

𝐡𝐪 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 - 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫

Hello again, hope you are having a wonderful week :). This topic really hits home for some people, and I really do NOT want you to proceed if you are uncomfortable with what is in the warnings.

take care of yourselves lovelies :) Sending love <3

featuring - rintaro suna, kotaro bokuto, keiji akaashi

TW - Female implied reader, Self-harm (Mentioned throughout each character), scars, crying, established relationships, bad mental health (reader). dark content ahead. Name calling (Pet names like love, babe, and others). Grammar errors are intentional (Capitalization & punctutation. Some spelling mistakes).

rintaro suna

scrolling through your phone and while it was approximately around a thousand degrees outside was probably your first mistake. getting a boyfriend who was always observant was probably the second. suna glared at you, well maybe not glared, more like squinted at you, kind of judgingly. you look up from your phone, feeling his heavy gaze. "what is it rin?" you ask with a small smile. you found it funny how rin looked at people judgingly, it reminded you of a fox. cute. "why are you always wearing longsleeves even though it's so hot outside?" not so cute anymore. you shake your head, "it's a habit. and besides they're comfortable." rin rolls his eyes. "being baked in your own clothing isn't comfortable, love." you shrug and for some reason, you shift in your seat on the couch and bring your legs closer to yourself. rin being observant in body language immediately takes notice. he walks over and takes a seat next to you. you're nervous, he can tell. "y/n, you can tell me anything, y'know. I won't judge you." he whispers. you're skeptical, every single time someone says that, you run away from confrontation. he loves me, I can trust him, you tell yourself. and you start to cry. he quickly pulls you into his arms and just lets you sit there. it's a while before you calm down, and it's silent, you're thankful for it though. rin wants to cry himself, because he'll never understand how you feel, and how much pain you must've endured. "can I see?" he asks softly, you nod and he pulls up your sleeves. and there they were. white long scars, covering your wrists and forearm. rin looks over at your face and notices you aren't even looking at them, your eyes are closed shut and his heart breaks into a million pieces. he kisses your wrist and pulls you closer and pulls down the sleeves quickly. "I'll always love you, y'know. you don't have to hide anything from me," you just nod in his arms, "don't ever do anything like this again, okay?" "I'll love you forever, y/n, don't you forget that"

kotaro bokuto

"babe!" you call out. there was a shirt you wanted kotaro to check out on you. and you looked good! it was fitting really nicely, and it was cute. kotaro came in and stars erupted in his eyes. "can I take a picture real quick? you look so adorable baby." you smile and strike a pose. he smiles as he looks down at his phone. you look stunning of course, he pays for everything like a good boyfriend should. as soon as you get home you decide to chill in the living room and scroll through your phone. kotaro puts all the stuff away. being too lazy to go chill with you in the living room, he opts for your shared bedroom and lays in the bed. as he scrolls through the photos he took, he notices something on your shoulder. as he takes a closer look, chills course through his spine.

oh.

oh.

he needs to talk to you. now. kotaro pulls open your messages and types as fast as humanely possible.

ko <;3 : hey babe. <y/n3 : yea??? ko <3: can you come talk to me pls.

fearing the worst, you rush into your room, to find a serious faced kotaro. oh no. something's horribly wrong. he pats the spot on the bed beside him. as soon as you sit on the spot, he brings you close to his chest. it takes you by surprise but you don't mind. he kisses your forehead and lays his chin on top of your head. "you know, i really really really love you right?" you nod. he sighs, "baby, i know." your stomach drops. he has to be joking. there's no way. you covered it up for months, how did he now know? the picture...fuck. you forgot to cover them... tears start blurring your vision and spill down your cheeks. "kou im sorry. i'm really really sorry, please don't be mad at me. i can't help it. i want to stop so bad, but it's so hard, and i don't know what to do. please, please d-don't leave." you choke out. kotaro just grips you harder and shushes you. he tilts your head up with his fingers, "hey, look at me sweet girl. i could never leave you. you're the most kind, loving, caring, funny, smart, and wonderful person i know. i'm stuck by your side forever, remember?" he grins up at you. "we pinky promised it too!" he holds out his pinky, and you strangle out a breathy laugh from your crying. you calm down a bit as you wrap your pinky around his. he takes your hand and kisses the knuckles gently before wrapping you in a hug again. "i could never leave you pretty girl. you and i are in this together."

keiji akaashi

he knew. he had suspicions but now he knew. keiji knew now because while you both were on the subway coming home, every time something, or someone, hit you near your legs, you'd freeze up. you would tense up or visibly flinch away. you both were coming back from a nice little coffee and book date. keiji wanted to talk to you about this, but didn't want to spoil your good mood. the minute you got home you decided to read some of the books you got from the library and keiji decided to finish a bit of his work with you in the living room. after a bit of time had passed, you decided to put on some netflix. just as you grab the remote, keiji gently touches your wrist and shakes his head. he sits on the floor and pats the spot next to him. you raise a brow but comply. he takes your hands in his and holds them tight. he scans your face and kisses you, slow and meaningful. it takes you by surprise, but you're not complaining. after what seemed like too short of a moment, keiji brings you into his arms and keeps your hands in his. "y/n...you don't need to hide it anymore. i know" you freeze. everything goes cold. your entire body is tense. you pull back a bit and look into his eyes. all you see is hurt, and a bit of dread. how? how could this have happened? and why like this? "how...how long?" you ask him. and he closes his eyes for a second before opening them again. "for a bit of time." tears prick your eyes. "and i bet you know where too, don't you keiji?" he nods and brings you into him again. "keiji...keiji i'm sorry i didn't tell you. i won't do it again, don't be mad at me. it was too much. i couldn't stop it. it hurts so bad. i just want it all to end already." you start sobbing. he brings you to look at him again, with his hands on either side of your cheek. he kisses you again through your gasps and hiccups. he's oh so slow, soft, gentle. so loving. "don't ever say that angel. i could never be mad at you. don't apologize, my love . if anything i'm sorry for not noticing sooner. i won't let it happen again." you feel your heart clench and unclench at his words. you look up at him through your tears, "you won't leave me?" he lays a kiss on your forehead, "i could never". you nuzzle into him deeper, as he strokes his hand down your hair and back. "i love you more than the world itself, my dove. i'll always be by your side. i'll be on this journey with you. forever."

[kimbapisnotsushi]

Do you perhaps have any fukurodani headcanons to share?

anon you have blessed me with a wonderful opportunity. thank you.

komi's workout playlist is 40% bubblegum pop 50% rock/rock subsets and 10% soundtracks. one minute you're listening to "best song ever" by one direction and then it slides into "love from the other side" by fall out boy and then you get like. music from the blue exorcist stage play or one of the pokemon theme songs

(komi really, really unironically likes the pokemon theme songs)

shuuichi knows ten different ways to break bones and when probed about it he just goes "oh i decided to learn just in case someone wanted to mess with akaashi-san :)" and does not elaborate

every day washio thinks about that little girl who took one look at him and cried and part of his soul dies a little on the inside

onaga is really popular with his fellow first-years bc a) he plays with BOKUTO b) he's really really nice and c) he's the only thing standing between them and shuuichi

[during the mujinazaka match] bokuto: "don't worry, i have a plan" konoha: "this better not be anything like your plan to cook rice by eating it raw and then drinking boiling water" bokuto: "this is nothing like that plan!"

(bonus points if you know where that's from)

i think aone, oomimi, and washio all need a group chat with each other

they'd text things like "saw a baby today. it actually smiled and waved at me :D" and the other two are congratulating them on this unbelievable milestone

kaori, konoha, and sarukui are the BEST third year shit talkers btw. they know aaaaaallll the drama. they tell akaashi everything and akaashi is like "hold my tea" because damn if the second-years aren't a petty bunch

also!! kaori and akaashi have a very sibling-like bond. like obviously akaashi admires and respects both her and yukie but i think he and kaori probably have similar interests in books and reading and all that

and kaori acknowledges how weird akaashi actually is but loves and supports him all the same!!

if you ever need anything you just gotta ask sarukui. my man knows everyone for everything. it doesn't matter if you need slightly illegal chemicals or whatever he's like "yeah i know a person" and you'll find it in your shoe locker the next day

this is much funnier when you remember that fukurodani is full of rich kids who would normally just like. buy whatever it is they want.

one time akaashi caught bokuto trying to convince nishinoya and tanaka that the turkey was the u.s.a.'s greatest symbol of power and freedom and glory and all that bullshit and he gave him the biggest Disappointed™️ Look ever but bokuto turned on the puppy eyes so akaashi just sighed and joined him

[saeiken]

hq ghost au!! akaashi can see ghosts, bokutou is excited to have a settter (and friend) to toss for him

(more lore in the form of my texts w my sister under the link :3)

other stuff not included in those texts:

all of the captains (bokutou, kuroo, daichi, oikawa, ushijima) are dead and ghosts, only akaashi can see and talk to them

akaashi came to fukurodani to play w bokutou like does in canon, but only realizes that bokutou's a ghost when he meets him there

akaashi stays with volleyball only bc bokutou is so excited to have someone who can toss to him (and, you know.. theyre gay)

kenma and akaashi are closer friends, akaashi helps kenma and kuroo communicate

akaashi only meets oikawa after the timeskip, at the mbsy v adlers game (akaashi and bokutou went to see hinata and kageyama, who theyre closer w bc they are good friends w daichi)

pls let me know if you have other ideas/suggestions for this au!! i would love to talk abt it :]

[st6rly]

ANIMATED HQ TIMESKIP WHAT IN THE WORLD

[3l91]

me trying to explain the nuances btwn my fav ships bc of a convo i had w/ a friend 😭

[miyamoratsumuu]

FRANS!! remember when I said I’d do a deepdive into ur works one day? I’m here now :) do u have any specific ones u think I should take a look at based on my favs <3

HII REE!! I took a quick look at your post with your fav characters for this, and just then, I realized that I haven't written for the haikyuu characters on your roster except for iwa</3

SOOO I offer my short fic "Unsent Letters," which is sort of the shortened version of jamais vu!! I sort of got the inspiration for the series from that drabble anyway ☝🏻

andd, ik he's not on your roster, but may I suggest "and they were roommates," a fic ft. akaashi!! it was actually one of the first fics I've ever written, so idk if it's the best suggestion, but 🚶🏻‍♂️

for mha I haven't written any kirishima fics (looking for works that I'd recommend u made me realize that most of the things I've posted are headcanons 😭😭) but I have this short headcanon post with kirishima included!! "getting matching eye color bracelets with them"

lastlyy, ik you said based on your favs and he's not really your fav (atleast i don't think so), he's mine 🤕 but have this "Apple Cider" fic I wrote with sero!!

[6okuto]

What movies do you think Akashi would star in?

Wehehe... the basis of my series was gonna be that keiji keeps getting cast as the romance drama second lead 🫡 he gets a big following and people ask when he's finally going to get the lead role (esp after he says he'd love one) 🥹 bUT! he also has a few (smaller) thriller/mystery roles and even like. an action movie role..

when he finally gets the lead role i'm so deadset on smth like wotakoi + the cdrama hidden love LIKE. my bad guys I hope you see my vision. please.

(other than this,, stuff like scarlet heart ryeo, haunting of hill house, smth like bridgerton, dnd: honour among thieves etc etc 🫡🫡)

his charas are often similar to him irl which only gets him more fans... like interviews cement him Just as kind and humble as everyone thinks 😭 but he goes out of his comfort zone too.. gets a cold/analytical chara in something and everyone's like. Ok Main Antagonist Akaashi When? or a brighter/louder chara and when people compare him he gets flustered HSHSHS

[hotarufutaba]

my new band guys aphrodisica :3 they play in a club that is similar to a host club

[hammerhai]

#haikyuubookclubweek9 - protagonists of the world!!

wuaaah week nine already 🔥 the fukurodani game is well underway!! honestly it was so difficult not to screenshot every single panel of akaashi... he's just Too Pretty. Just Look at his smile... my crops are flourishing, my room is clean, my grades are up etc etc

yeah... anyway, i decided to focus instead on this scene: "a game we can't afford to lose"

first off, I'll never get over how bokuto is able to read akaashi so well. mind you, this is right after akaashi starts comparing himself to kageyama or atsumu during all his overthinking (which he actively tries to hide from showing on his face). everyone else seems surprised by bokutos comment as well, meaning they didn't realise how bad akaashis anxiety had become. but bo noticed. they're truly on the exact same wavelength, those two.

kyaaahahaha that little side panel lmao 😂 akaashi being slightly irritated, bo all smug and happy his assumption was right 😄 interesting how he knows exactly what to say to him, too...

konoha 💖💖💖 he doesn't understand these two but he's trying to be a good senpai 💕✨ btw, does anyone know why akaashi is the only second year on the team? the setter subbing in for him and onaga are both first years, right? and the rest of the regulars are all in their third year already... 🤔

also I love how (in the original translation) bokuto says "he's not a giant baby like me" 😂😂😂 king you're so self-aware! and so much smarter than we all give him credit for!!

and now, my favourite konoha scenes bc he's my favourite little babyboy 💖💖💖

[kuroosdarling]

(୨୧ᵕ̤ᴗᵕ̤) : you’ve been matched with … SEMI !

@twinkinspector