Ty For The Tag Meeya! I Dunno Anything Abt This I Just Picked Cute Ones LMAO

atsumu miya - 320 words.

atsumu knows he’s screwed.

the second you laugh at his joke, fingers brushing his chest as you lean forward, he knows he’s absolutely screwed. later, osamu will tease him for how red he got, but he’ll brush it off with an indignant roll of his eyes.

from that moment on, atsumu’s familiar cockiness melts away in your presence. he stumbles over his words, avoiding eye contact. his jokes fall flat, and yet you still laugh every time. suna tells him you’re way out of his league and atsumu shoves his shoulder playfully, reluctantly and internally agreeing.

some random day after school, to his surprise, you ask him to walk you home. he has practice, but he skips the first half for you. kita is gonna tear him a new one—he can’t find it in himself to care. he shoves his hands in his pockets and stares at the ground as you talk to him, too nervous to meet your eyes.

when the first dribbles of rain hit the ground, he curses. you both make a run for a nearby bus stop, where there’s a roof, and stand there for a quiet moment.

“i love the rain,” you say eventually, letting out a soft sigh.

he glances over at you and the look of absolute wonder leaves a pang of joy in his heart. you look so . . . ethereal. suna was right; you’re so out of his league.

“especially when it’s warm out,” you continue. you reach your hand out, letting the water fill your cupped hand before pouring it. you turn to atsumu with a giggle. “do you like the rain?”

he hesitates, enamored by the look in your eyes. “yeah,” he answers, breathless. and, really, he doesn’t. it’s cold and wet and it sucks. but you like it. and he likes you. and he would stand with you in the rain forever if it meant seeing that look on your face.

@dearru

ummm volleybal?

Tenya iida is like the perfect man to fall in love with like are you kidding

KUROO TETSUROU doesn’t get it.

you’re around all the time—at school, after school, walking home. you're his neighbor. he sees you practically every day. so why does it feel like he misses you?

and not just a little. like... really misses you. the kind that sits in his chest and doesn’t let up. but calling it “missing you” doesn’t feel right.

one late night, he spirals down a google rabbit hole and finds the word: ‘longing’. that’s it. it’s not just about seeing you. it’s about the way you make things feel okay without even trying. the way he wants more than just friendship, more than what you already give him without realizing.

so, in a moment of zero forethought, he calls you. after three rings, you pick up.

“hello?”

“y/n, i think i’m in love with you.”

there’s a beat of silence, then a soft laugh. “you’re real funny.”

“i’m not joking,” he says. “i’ve been sitting with this for weeks. i miss you, even when i’m with you. and i don’t know what that says about me, but i needed to tell you.”

the silence stretches. regret starts creeping in.

“…forget i said anything. that was—”

“kuroo,” you cut in, “you’re such an idiot. i love you too.”

after yet another beat of silence, he speaks up again.

“can i see you?” he asks, like his mouth’s moving faster than his brain can keep up.

“try not to wake anybody up.” you reply with a soft smile.

© 𝐒𝟔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 | please do not edit, translate or plagiarize my work ! dividers belong to @.cafekitsune

@fushiguruuzzzz this is for you 💕💗💖💞💓💘💝

haikyuu & general taglist — @livteracts @honeycrispappletree @ihychi @esotericsorrow @parlaitte @mayyhaps @evesfairytale @lizbix @lacel0veletters @ayatakanosstuff (taglist form linked here)

─ ✦ Itoshi Rin who can’t stop drawing you.

It’s all he does. He sits in class, and instead of looking out the window at the football field right outside the classroom like he used to, he sits focused, paying attention to every detail that makes you, you.

From the back of the classroom, his pencil moves effortlessly, sketching the outline of your figure as you sit in the front row. His sketchbook is filled with you laughing, talking with your friends, and doing trivial things, but his favorite to draw is when you're listening to music. Because he can actually see when you’re lost in the music. By the subtle shifts in your expression, the slight upturn of your lips when a more happy song plays, or the way your body stills when the music turns somber. He notices how your fingers absentmindedly tap against your notebook, your focus shifting between the melody and the words you scribble down.

Now his sketchbook is filled with drawings of you, only you. So of course he has to get a new one, a new small black notebook that he can carry around everywhere.

After another long day, he walked to the bookstore in the city. He searched for the same model notebook he had, but he couldn’t find it, so he went for the last possible solution: ask someone for help. He approached the register with heavy steps and asked an older woman if she could help him. She kindly told him that her eyesight wasn’t always what it used to be, so she asked for a younger worker to help, and it was you.

You worked at this bookshop?

With a smile, pretending not to recognize him, you gently grabbed the notebook from his limp hands. His fingers remained frozen, too shocked by your unexpected presence to react and before he could stop you, you flipped open the notebook. Intending to find the model's name inside, but by opening it, you saw all the drawings. All the drawings of you, sketches on every page, not an inch uncovered. Some sketches were intricate and detailed, others rough and hurried, yet unmistakably you in every stroke. Rin just stood rooted in place, his expression pale and unreadable, his wide eyes fixed on you as if time itself had stopped.

Then, something seemed to snap him out of his trance. Because without a word, he lunged forward, yanking the notebook from your hands with more force than both you and him expected, he turned abruptly, bolting out of the store before you could even process it.

ate this up like a last meal

street racer au! with shoyo, set in rio, somewhere near the beach. crowds of people, laughter and exhaust fumes filling the air, portuguese music playing the background from someone’s car. shoyo steps out of his own car, sleek, fancy, probably a bright color, and his eyes immediately land on you. there’s a wide grin on his face, cocky and unshakable. people surround him, clapping him on the back, congratulating him; girls rush to him, fawning and asking for his number—for just one chance. but he’s staring at you. he makes a beeline for you, sweeping you up in his arms and spinning you around. the world fades away, music the only thing you can hear and yadda yadda yadda

later that night, when the lights of the sleepless city have dimmed, all the celebrations have finished, and beer cans have been emptied, street racer!shoyo sits with you in his car. the cool breeze bites his nose and he can hear the subtle crashing of waves in the background. he’s always filled with adrenaline after races, especially one’s he wins, but there’s something about the quiet still of sitting with you— the one he loves— that makes him feel a special type of thrill. basking in the moment, he closes his eyes and tilts his head toward the sky.

you giggle, leaning in to whisper in his ear. your breath tickles his skin and sends goosebumps down his spine.

“why’re you looking up there? im right here.”

he opens his eyes and beams down at you, smile widening, “im thanking the universe for today.”

you plant a kiss to his cheek, grinning as largely as him when you pull away. “yeah, seeing you win was pretty cool.”

he laughs, pulling you in once again. the heat from your body against his is electrifying. his lips move against yours fervently, and he pulls away, panting. catching his breath, he presses his forehead to yours.

it’s not enough, he thinks. however close he can be to you, it’s never enough.

“winning was cool,” he admits, and he can feel the excitement from earlier today rise in his stomach. “but…”

“but?” you echo, your chest rising and falling in tandem with his.

his heart pounds with the same ferocity of the ocean crashing in the distance. it beats louder than the quiet hum of his car.

“but…” he continues, eyes locking with yours, “i wasn’t thanking the universe for the win.”

you tilt your head, pulling away from him. he tries not to react to the loss of feeling.

you laugh softly. “what’s more deserving of thanks than winning a race?”

he pauses, but then, he speaks— uncharacteristically soft, but entirely sure.

“winning you.”

@kawoala

my attempt at one of my favorite red boys (also a bit of a muscle study)

I love doing magazine esc covers so I figure why not do one for one of the most photogenic... drawgeninc?? people ever

i love watching liberty love on yt she’s my baddie she gives me motivation not to be a funky ass bitch

i love it so bad…

i got a new theme idea for this acc..

@dearru also cannon then that the boys like girls with short hair 😍😍

I think between the twins Osamu would be the more aggressive flirt based off this illustration.

He was so direct to the point it even freaked out Atsumu lol.