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#haikyuu!!
yankasmiles · 2 days
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spring is coming with a strawberry in the mouth 🎵
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beybuniki · 7 hours
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kofi request: deku & hinata hanging out, talking about their stats and special moves (& fucked up knees lol)
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clubkira · 2 days
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POWER OUTAGE .ᐟ
── TETSURŌ KUROO. ┊ HAIKYUU!!
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raining in japan m.list // haikyuu!! masterlist.
premise. thunderstorms scare you greatly. but thanks to your cute neighbour, you know you’ll be okay after all.
content. tetsurou kuroo / f!reader. fluff. reader is a scared of storms, mainly thunder. power outage. set ambiguously post highschool / university. neighbours to lovers.
word count. 3.1k
soundtrack. show me how : men i trust.
¹new message from jia ෆ hi i’m not dead yes i do still write !! @tetzoro @tetsuskei i hope i did your man justice ^_^
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03:24
You manage to catch the flickering lights of your dining room’s lamp glitch out repeatedly from the corner of your eye, the lights inside your dingy apartment appearing to go haywire as constant streams of raindrops pound against the glass of your windows.
With each passing second they seem to multiply tenfold of the previous, their impact upon crashing into each other sometimes merging with one another in sync to form a continuous stream of running water trickling down the brick walls of your complex instead of the constant buzz of millions of tiny water droplets.
The soft glow from your lamp dims momentarily before coming to a complete halt. Your hopes are quickly dashed when you see it attempt to start back up again before going dead, and after a few seconds of the darkness swallowing your apartment whole a begrudging sigh escapes your lips as you close your textbook.
“Ah, damn it . . . not again . . .”
You slowly stand up from your seat at the dining table, cautiously pushing your chair back just a little as to not hit the rest of your furniture and carefully maneuvering your way through the dark of your living room.
“Where the hell did I put that flashlight . . . ?”
You really should’ve thought to charge your phone and powerbank ahead of time when you heard a thunderstorm was making it’s way to your city on the news earlier. Now with a dead cellphone battery and empty powerbank you’re left to fend for yourself amist the unknown layout of your apartment without a light source.
Scuffling around in the dark, you take a step forward, miscalculating how much distance there is infront of you as you find yourself accidentally ramming your shin against the side of your unusually hard bookshelf, sending you reeling in agonizing pain stomach first and flopping right onto your couch.
Ouch.
Your teeth grind against each other as you hold your shin, wincing while rocking slightly in an attempt to alleviate the pain. “God, that did not sound good . . .” You can’t see through the near pitch black lowlight of your apartment, but you’re almost certain a nasty bruise may have begun to form on your skin from that.
A few more minutes of stumbling finally merits you to where you had originally intended to end up in the first place— the supply closet. Feeling around for the door’s surface your hand manages to find it’s grip onto the smooth metal handle, twisting it open and carefully reaching out into the darkness.
“It should be on the second shelf . . . or was it the third? Fuck, I really can’t see anything right now . . .”
Your fingers brush up against the elastic wrist tie of the flashlight (it was on the third shelf after all, go figure) and you impatiently snatch it from off the pile of other assorted junk you’ve haphazardly thrown in there throughout the years.
All you hear is a soft click as you turn on the device before your eyes are bombarded by a bright flash, the sudden overload causing you to stumble back a bit, blinking repeatedly to soothe the burn in the back of your retinas.
Maybe it’s not the best idea to hold a flashlight so close to your face while it’s aiming (or pointed) directly into your eyes.
Using your newly gained lightsource you make your way to the fuse box in your kitchen, now being able to easily navigate your way through the dark you give yourself a moment to stop and glare at the corner of your bookshelf that you’d run into earlier, “Asshole.”
Opening the fuse box, you shine the light onto the many circuits housed within, eyes trailing down and scanning each one for the labels of what light they control. You experimentally switch the one for the living room on, glancing outside of your kitchen into the hall to check, only to be met with disappointment as you see the nothingness of the night staring right back at you.
Just as a confirmation (and because you’re stubborn), you switch a couple more of the circuits on and off repeatedly, disappointment mares your features when they yield no results. “No power at all . . .”
A deep crackle of thunder booms from the sky outside, startling you as you nearly drop the flashlight in your hands if not for the wrist tie securing it. A few seconds of heaving and checking outside your kitchen’s windows— only to see more rain than you could ever possibly need in three lifetimes —causes you to ease up a little. You feel a chill run down your bare arms though, the short sleeves and pajama shorts you chose to wear tonight not doing much with the raging wind howling just outside your apartment.
The sudden sounds of gentle knocking at your door cuts through the silence of your empty apartment, the hairs on your back shooting straight up in surprise. You cautiously make your way over to the door, uneasy as your hands hesitate to lay on the knob. Who else could be up at this late hour?
Your eyes squint through the tiny peephole of your door, zoning in on a familiar head of messy black hair, donned in a worn out old highschool volleyball hoodie. With noticeable bags underneath his eyes matching your own, you can tell he’s been staying up as late as you have.
You can’t quite see much or well for that matter through the tiny peephole’s space, but he patiently waits outside with an uneasy look on his face, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket and pacing around anxiously on the small space on your door mat.
With your heart rate spiking back down to normal levels, you slowly open the door to him. He jumps back a little when he sees you in front of him, as if he wasn’t expecting you to actually be awake. You give him a polite smile.
“Hey, Kuroo.”
He chuckles a little, bringing his hands out of his pockets. You notice the pearly whites of his canines poking out from his lips when he grins. It suits him well. “You know it’s okay to just call me Tetsurou.”
“Right, right. My bad.”
“‘You doing alright?” He asks you worriedly, craning his head aside to check the dark of your apartment. “Heard the entire building’s power just got wiped by the storm. ‘Was told it won’t be back for another few hours.”
Of course it won’t be back for awhile, the electricians can’t really do much while the thunderstorm rages outside. You doubt anyone in the building who was asleep by now would even notice there had been a power outage tonight, most people aren’t awake at the acceptable hours of 3AM working on their overly procrastinated capstone assignment anyways to even care about the torrential rain pouring outside their windows.
“Can I come inside?” Tetsurou asks before stopping himself, backtracking hurriedly while making funny hand gestures. What was that sign he just made? It might’ve meant Apple in JSL. “I mean, if it’s okay with you. I know it’s late and all, and that you probably want to sleep but I—“
You cut him off with a giggle of your own, “Tetsurou,” his cheeks dust a light shade of pink in the darkness. Your laughter. It sounds like bells to him, akin to the raindrops that hit your windows with a light tinkle each time they fall from the clouds above. Wind chimes in the raging storm that falls around you two and lighting crackles behind him, illuminating your bright face for him.
“I don’t mind, you can come inside. You must be cold standing out here, I know I am and I’m just in the doorway.” You take him by the hand, his skin’s cold just as you expected from the frigid air as you guide him into your apartment.
He stumbles a bit through the front door “H— hey!” trying to remove his shoes by the entrance and lay them by the door mat, bringing with him two large blankets tucked under his arms you hadn’t noticed him carrying in the darkness.
Tetsurou’s eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness, squinting and zoning in on the little stack of books piled up at your desk, the flashlight you were using placed just beside an open notebook. “You’re still trying to work on that assignment?” He asks, setting the blankets down on a chair as you slide into your own, clicking the flashlight on and shining it down on your pages.
“Yeah, it’s due soon.”
“There’s a storm outside.” He comments on matter of factly, chin folded into the crook of his hands as he leans on the backside of the chair. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the obviousness of the situation.
“And?”
“Just, come here.” You feel his hand reach out into the darkness, standing you up from the table with mild disagreement from you, “Relax with me a little, let’s go sit on your couch together. I brought blankets for a reason.”
“I can use one while working at the dinner table.”
The frown that tugs at Tetsurou’s lips is barely noticeable in the dark, but he whines audibly. “That sounds uncomfortable, though.”
“It’s fine.”
“Isn’t it better to huddle together for warmth?” He suggests playfully, “Y’know, no power n’ heat.”
You think his compromise over for a moment, and he senses the hesitation brewing inside your mind. “I promise it’ll be good.” Lighting flashes outside your window for a split second, followed by the loud seismic boom of thunder that causes you to flinch in his hold. Instinctively he jumps, pulling you into a hug as your heavy breathing fills the silence of your apartment. Seconds tick by on the clock hanging on your wall, as it seems like the heartbeats of both you and Tetsurou meld into one beat.
“Are you . . .” Tetsurou looks out the window for a moment, his voice drawls on low and quiet even though the only two people here are you and him, as if he’s about to ask something he shouldn’t. “Are you scared of thunder?”
“. . . No.”
“That sounds like a yes to me.”
“I’m an adult,” You huff, trying to break out of his hold and back to your pile of due papers, “I don’t get scared by thunder like a little kid.” Tetsurou barely catches the “anymore” you mutter underneath your breath. His hold on you not only tightens but he drags you to the couch, much to your protests and complaints.
“You’re not a very good liar,” he grins, plopping you down beside him before reaching over you to drape a thick blanket over your shivering body, were you always this cold? You try to move your hands to lift the blanket off, to stand up but it’s heavy. It traps your arms underneath it, feeling like he condemned you to the couch.
“Is this blanket weighted?” You ask and he hums, draping the other one he bought over himself with a relaxed sigh. “Yeah, I’ve found they’re really good for rainy nights.” You can’t deny that now that you’ve gotten a taste, having this is almost like having a barrier from the cold rain and air outside, and you’re already warmer than you were just a few moments ago.
You wrap it tighter around your body, the fabric smells like him. “Thanks, Tetsurou.” Another crackle of lighting blasts inside your living room through the window, peeking through the gap of your curtains as thunder follows closely in suit. It’s louder this time, and seemed to be a lot closer to your apartment than the others. Your hands slam over the cups of your ears to shield them from the thunderous booms, they feel weighed down by the heavy blanket as you bury your head into the thick material, closing them as like an extra precaution from the storm outside.
You don’t even realize you’re shaking until you feel a hand smooth over you back. Tetsurou’s.
You can barely make out his voice with your hands blocking your hearing, “Are you okay?” It’s muffled and quiet, and his hand rubs soothing circles into your back as you barely manage to move your head to a nod. More thunder comes and Tetsurou’s eyesbrows knit together as you frantically switch to shaking your head no, feeling it drop further into the blanket in shame. Your heart in sync as the storm outside won’t stop taunting you.
The small raindrops that crash against your window feel like they’re right up against your ears, the bright lighting that races across the sky’s edge stings your eyes to look at it, even if you shut them as tight as can be. And that god awful thunder, the thunder that makes you feel like your dingy apartment might crumble underneath it’s roar, crashing to the floors below as the trees outside cave in on you from above.
“This is so embarrassing . . .” Tetsurou hears you mutter as you lift your head to the side to face him, fear is written all over your features and you look like you’re about to cry in the presence of your next-door neighbour. Your voice cracks, and you think you’d prefer if the floor underneath you did fall through after all. “I just really hate storms . . .”
A weak chuckle escapes your lips as you wipe away the tears that prick at your eyes, attempting to lighten up the situation for Tetsurou. You don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable by crying in front of him when you were the one who invited him in, “I guess I really am still a little kid, afraid of thunder and lighting like I’m still four.”
Tetsurou doesn’t laugh at your self deprecating jab, and you feel your stomach drop at the lack of a response. Would you have preferred if he laughed? No, not really— but it felt awkward to have only silence between the two of you in the heat of the moment. His hazel eyes seem to twinkle in the darkness when he blinks, and he wraps an arm around you before pulling you into his chest, you let out an alarmed squeak involuntarily from his actions, and the heartbeat in your chest magnifies to the sound of the thunder that you’re so scared of outside.
His own heartbeat is loud too, now that he has you leaning on his chest like this. The wild thumping and beating, is that from you? You feel stupid for getting excited over that possibility, but as you look up from your spot you catch his eyes, tired and still beautiful as both his arms envelope you in a deep hug. He covers your ears with the palms of his hands, red crawls up the skim of his neck and ears in the darkness.
“It’s okay,” he reassures you quietly, flinching when you snuggle deeper into his chest, the scent of his home shirt being the same as the one on the blanket he brought over but stronger. The smell of clean linen from his laundry detergent sticks to the material of his shirt, and you can’t stop yourself from blurting out “Did you just do the laundry before coming over?”
This time it’s his turn to laugh nervously, “Yeah . . .” his head rests atop yours, taking in the scent of your shampoo. It fills his senses, it’s not overpowering or overwhelming at all.
Maybe because it’s you.
“I didn’t want to smell bad when I came over . . . Is that— is that bad?”
“. . . No,” you decide, a content smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not.”
Suddenly the loud sounds of the storm that had you once afraid and cowering in fear seem to drown out from Tetsurou’s cupped hands over your ears, but you know they’re just as strong now than they were earlier, and perhaps even stronger as the night drags on. But in Tetsurou’s embrace, underneath the blankets he brought from home that smell just like him, wrapped up in his arms and snuggled up against his chest; you think you’ll be okay.
“Stay with me,” you eke out without thinking, and a part of you hopes he didn’t hear because you’re worried you’ll ruin the tranquility of whatever you have now— that this moment is only temporary, all will be over by tomorrow morning when the technicians come to fix the apartment’s power outage at 6AM, and you’ll both go back to treating each other as just neighbours. That you’ll pretend you never snuggled together when you had no power and no heat, and you never said the words you’re about to say to him now. “Please, don’t go . . .”
To your surprise, a soft kiss is pressed to the crown of your forehead as Tetsurou’s wild hair tickles at your skin, the erratic beat of his heart thumping wildly in your eardrums. He looks just as nervous as you do, lips suddenly dry and throat closed up when he tries to speak. After a disgruntled groan, the two of you laugh as once more does lightning flash across the sky, with thunder coming in it’s place moments later, hand in hand as always. Just as you expected.
But this time you’re not scared, not when he next whispers out the words you’ve longed to hear since you were a little kid during these storms, not when he cuddles you closer to his chest and brings his lips close to yours before tilting your chin up and capturing you in the sweetest of kisses, his lips perfectly molding to fit yours as he mutters in between the short breaths of air with a smile that rivals the brightness of the lighting you were so scared to gaze into from outside the windows.
“I’m not going anywhere. Don’t worry.”
Raindrops continue to fall from outside, thunder and lightning work as a terrifying duo in sync as they torment the nature. But it all seems significantly less scary now. Underneath the onslaught of rain, the continuous lightning and thunder you’ve feared since childhood, the annoying lack of power— you found something able to strike against even the worst of thunderstorms, and something better to indulge your night in than your assignments that lay long forgotten beside your flashlight on the dining table far away from you and Tetsurou on the couch, warm underneath the blankets together bundled up to escape the cold air.
You found Tetsurou Kuroo.
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reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
2024 © property of CLUBKIRA. all rights reserved. no reposts · plagiarism · edits · stealing · translations etc. thank you !! 𐚁
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mari-writes · 2 days
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💕
At summer training camp in her second year, Yachi Hitoka notices a small, heart-shaped Pride pin on Akaashi Keiji’s sports bag.
She spends the first two days of camp agonizing if she should say something. Is it appropriate? Would Akaashi be weirded out? How does one casually initiate a conversation with a fellow gay?
So far Yachi has only told two people: a cousin, and her former crush/mentor, the incomparable Kiyoko Shimizu. She’s chatted with people online, but always anonymously.
The thought of coming out to someone new is terrifying.
But Akaashi, and really the entire Fukurodani Volleyball Club, have always been approachable. Yachi recalls running into Akaashi and his ace, Bokuto Koutarou at Nationals. They were so kind, easing her worries and doubts during an intense match. Despite being just as tall and intense as the other athletes Yachi regularly met, she never felt intimidated by the pair.
And so, she now finds herself peering nervously around the corner of the Ubugawa gymnasium to where Akaashi, now captain of Fukurodani, stands. He’s staring down at his phone, his bag casually slung over one shoulder. The rainbow pin gleams under the midday sun.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Yachi approaches. As she does, she sees that Akaashi is smiling. It’s subtle, just a slight twitch at the sides of his mouth, but it’s noticeable. She wonders vaguely what he’s looking at on his phone.
She chides herself for being nosey.
Akaashi hears her shuffling and looks up. “Ah, Yacchan.” He politely tucks the phone away. “Good evening.”
“Hello, um, hi, Akaashi-san!” Yachi stammers. “H-how are you?” She winces at her own awkwardness.
“Doing well, thank you.” He nods politely. “And you? Are you staying cool? Hydrated?”
“I’m okay!” Yachi bows back. “But yeah, it’s so hot out today!”
“You’re not a summer person, then?”
“Not at all!” She groans. “I feel like I’m melting!”
Akaashi chuckles. “You sound like Bokuto. He abhors the heat, especially when it’s humid as well.”
Yachi grins. “How is Bokuto-san doing? He’s at Central Sports University, right?” She assumes Bokuto keeps in touch with his old teammates.
Akaashi hums. “Moving from home was a big change, but he’s happy. His new team is a good fit.”
“I’m glad.” Yachi reaches down to fiddle with the hem of her t-shirt, unsure. She feels like she’s about to dive off a cliff, not knowing if there will be a net to catch her. Her anxious gaze shifts, and now the pin is in direct line of sight, as if taunting her. How can she bring it up?
“Yacchan?”
Yachi flinches, realizing she had been staring at the pin for a few beats too long. When she meets Akaashi’s gaze, he looks uncertain. Oh no! Does he think she has a problem with it? “Sorry!” She cries, arms waving frantically. “I didn’t know what to say, because… um, I saw it and I just…”
“This?” Akaashi’s fingers wander across the bag’s canvas and to the pin’s enamel surface. He taps it with one of his perfectly filed nails, lifting an eyebrow curiously.
Yachi swallows down her fear. “Yeah! It’s nice! Um, I’d like to find one for my book bag!”
Akaashi looks mildly surprised, but his face softens quickly. “I see.”
“Haha, yeah…”
“So.” Akaashi clears his throat. “You’re…”
“Yeah!” Yachi says again hands tighten into fists excitedly. “I’m gay!” Her ears burn in embarrassment as her companion bites his bottom lip, trying not to laugh at her outburst.
“Well, thank you for sharing that with me, Yacchan.”
Yachi releases a shaky breath, grinning back nervously. For a while they are silent. Cicadas buzz above, gym shoes squeak on hardwood nearby. She wonders if Akaashi is feeling the same sort of content relief at finding another queer person to confide in.
“When did you know?”
“Huh?” It takes a moment for her to discern Akaashi’s question. “Oh! Um, well. Back in first year, I had a crush on someone, but at first I didn’t know it was a crush!” She recounts the clarity she experienced, when she finally understood her feelings. It was like everything suddenly shifted into focus.
It had been hard, accepting that Kiyoko couldn’t return her feelings. But she is forever grateful for the older girl—for her influence, kindness, her support when she came out.
“How are you doing now?” Akaashi asks kindly, causing Yachi to relax further.
“Well, I’m glad I know who I am! But now I basically fall in love with every pretty, nice girl I meet!” She sighs. “It’s tiring!”
Akaashi chuckles. “I suppose I can’t relate exactly. I’ve only ever had feelings for one person.”
Yachi leans in curiously, waiting for her companion to continue on his own. She doesn’t want to pry.
“I always found guys attractive,” he says finally. “But when I came out in middle school, my parents told me to keep it to myself. They said I’d ‘grow out of it,’ so it wasn’t worth acting on.”
Yachi frowns. “I’m so sorry, Akaashi-san! I, um, think my mom will be supportive when I tell her. I’ve heard her talk positively about the marriage equality movement…”
Akaashi’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. “I’m glad to hear. But remember, even if she doesn’t, you will find people who support and love you. I found that at Fukurodani. In fact,” he reaches into his pocket. “Let’s exchange numbers. If you ever want to talk, contact me. Bokuto, too. Anytime.”
A surge of affection hits Yachi. It’s overwhelming, how it wells up inside her, through her heart and into her throat. Not since Kiyoko had she felt so seen by another person. “Thank you,” she croaks, blinking furiously. (She is not crying. She’s not!) “Wait,” she says, realizing what Akaashi had said. “Bokuto… I mean, is he also…”
Shyly, Akaashi nods. “I’m sure he’d be okay with me telling you. Bokuto is bisexual. And, well…” His voice lowers slightly. “He and I… we’re together.”
Yachi feels like she might fall over at the news. Akaashi and Bokuto, two of her favorite people in the entire world, are dating? Incredible!
“That’s wonderful!” She cries, hands pulling into fists  in excitement. He chuckles, sharp cheekbones going pink. 
“Thank you. I… have to agree...”
From then on, Yachi and Akaashi grow closer. They spend time together at training camps, keeping in touch in between. They end up at the same university and often meet up to study together.
Yachi confides in Akaashi and Bokuto, who give her advice before she comes out to her mom. They encourage her to ask out a girl in one of her classes, celebrating when she gets her first date.
Over the years, Yachi meets many other queer people who become incredibly important to her. But she never loses touch with Akaashi. The connection they made that one summer day in high school remains a defining moment in her life.
She’ll forever be grateful.
//
Thanks for reading! I wanted to expand this for A03 but as usual these days, I lost the motivation. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Please REBLOG and/or REPLY if you did. 🥰❤️ Thanks for your continued support!
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itswannysenpai · 17 hours
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Bokuaka Flower Shop 🌼
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alexsiple · 1 day
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seijoh for trendsetter a hq fashion zine <3
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lowkeyremi · 2 days
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Your boyfriend, Osamu had suggested you start a mukbang channel because he knows how much you love to eat. (also gives him a chance to watch you enjoy delicious foods he makes)
He's your cameraman of course, so sometimes it's hard to focus on eating when he's smiling at you from behind the camera or if he's copying your eating motions in a silly manner.
Some people comment about the twinkle in your eyes, others notice your smile. Even when you cut out the parts that you laugh in some people still pick up on Osamu's soft whispering in the background.
One user comments:
"DO THEY HAVE A BOYFRIEND!??? SOMEONE'S TALKING IN THE BACKGROUND!!"
Only when you reach 10k subs do you introduce them to your cute boyfriend, Osamu. He waves to the camera during the live stream, (instead of a pre-recorded video he wanted to answer any questions your fans may have) "Hi guys, yes I am the one who cooks all the food they eat in their videos."
One user sends a tip with a question
[name's]babygurl tipped $10 "Are you their boyfriend?"
"Thank you [name's]babygurl for the tip! Yes I am their boyfriend, we've been dating for quite some time now."
To say your fans love him is an understatement. They'll go crazy if they see his chopsticks reaching out from behind the camera to help you finish some food that you couldn't eat all of.
In the future your channel turns into a shared channel with Osamu. You two eat together and make conversation, your fans absolutely love it. It also helps Osamu get more customers at Onigiri Miya.
(Based off of the match lene gave me :3)
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meleth03 · 2 days
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Kiyoomi: Yesterday I overheard Miya saying "Are ya sure this is a good idea?" and Suna replying "Trsut me." and I have never moved from one room to another so fast in my life.
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miyasstan · 2 days
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When your card declines in therapy so they bring out the fact that you will always be a wasted potential in their eyes just because you chose what you wanted to do :)
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-I am a Osamu kinnie for a reason :)
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cestcirque · 2 days
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Haikyuu!! LINE stamps, Karasuno captains edition! (seen in the HQ magazine)
“Understand what I’m saying???”
“Can you read???”
“…Should we have a proper conversation???”
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noenoaholi · 2 days
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lovely osakita (+ atsumu) commission for @fawn-eyed-girl 💕
here you can check the story that inspired this art 🍙 💛
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kart0 · 1 day
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Scenes from sumuviolet (twt) fic link down below definitely recommend
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beanschan · 1 day
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recently ive been relapsing into hq content which means kagehina has a grip on my brain again!!!! sketches and wips + of a semi comic im gonna finish later :3
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star-gallery · 1 day
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seus desenhos são lindossss 😭😭😭💖💖💖💖 vi q vc tava aceitando sugestão então vim aq falar do Tsukishima Kei (Haikyuu) 🥺🥺🥺🥺💗💗💗💗💗💗 ia amar ver ele no seu traço aff vc arrasa muito!!!!🥳🥳🥳🥳
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OI MEU BEM, obrigada pelo elogio aaaaa😭😭 espero que goste do Tsuki mesmo no meu traço <33 obrigada pela sugestão💗💗
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mniqqss · 3 days
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I would love to see a daichi + asahi hug 🥺 platonic or romantic up to you!
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hi! thank you for your patience <:,,)
for you and @rk-tmblr !!!
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