⋆✧˚₊ nscuit ₊˚✧

“Darling.”

“Love.” Keiji leans back into the couch and furrows his brows. Careful to keep his voice soft, he tries again, “My love?”

He’s been practicing pet names for days and thinks he might die.

Every term comes awkward and clunky, and every few minutes he’s either covering his face, red as a tomato, or gripping his hair like it might open his brain to affection.

It started with a single conversation—one not with him, but your friend, where you ranked terms of endearment and he watched you grow giddy and flustered by things he had never said.

“Is that too much? Am I trying too hard?” he mumbles with furrowed brows. He clears his throat, takes a breath, and tries to exhale all the tension in his body. This is for you, he tells himself, envisioning your face. The image of your flustered smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and his eyes soften. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“’Kay, I’m back.”

Keiji jolts at your voice and padding feet returning from the kitchen, two cups in hand. Louder than intended—much louder than intended—he greets you, “Hi!”

some digital stickers i made with blender a few years ago feel free to use them as a pfp or whatever you want lol (except for commercial use)

♬ phone ain't got no service this 3G is fucking worthless / day is getting dark like the area's turning urban / you'll be fucking nervous like me inside of a church is / but, i'ma get in contact regardless, and / i hope you answer.

SYN ⨾ down on your luck and fresh out of your second year of university, alisa recommends you for a new job; manager and social media woman for the MSBY jackals. you don’t know anything about volleyball, but a paycheck is a paycheck and this one is accompanied by enough zero’s for your liking.

CON-WARN ⨾ msby!atsumu miya. bickering. profanity. enemies-ish to lovers. flirty!atsumu miya. smau. socmed manager/gen manager!reader.

CHAT LOGS .ᐟ 〔 character introductions 〕

you ┊ messy notes scrawled in a worn notebook. straw-berries and freshly baked cinnamon rolls. multiple hair ties on her wrist. overwhelmed. ⤷ sisterhood of the traveling pants.

a. miya ┊ soft hair. carefree grins and unbothered laughter. large, worn-out hoodies. rays of sun seeping in through sheer curtains. perfectionist. ⤷ MSBY jackasses. <- tba

INSTAGRAM ARCHIVES .ᐟ 〔 masterlist 〕

03 / 14 / 25. kawoala : stupid hot

03 / 16 / 25. kawoala : the people

03 / 18 / 25. kawoala : jerk

Summerboy!

❀.ೃ࿔ ─── Highschool ended and all of a sudden you found yourself in Rio de Janeiro. Safe to say beach volleyball is not for the weak, but watching the 'hot asain dude' as your friend dubbed him sure was helping your sun exposed eyes! Just wait till you find out he's your cousin's friend..

content found : alcohol consumption , suggestive / sexual references , set during timeskip ( 18 - 20 ) , smau , Atsmum Miya x fem!reader

written content : ☀︎

taglist : open

. hq mlist : main mlist

Summerboy! : masterlist

| chapter one , lady gaga? ☀︎

content found : mentions of alcohol , smau , intro kinda

| chapter two , that's the huzz ☀︎

content found : alcohol consumption , smau , ‘first’ meeting

| chapter three , “thinking abt..” , “so no club tonight?”

content found : vomit mentioned , death / drowning mentioned , smau

Summerboy! : characters

➜ Y/n L/n : pre-gaming a pre-game , strappy bikinis , stacks of jewelry that somehow hasn't rusted yet , expensive sunglasses , hawaiian tropic sunscreen

➜ Atsumu Miya : "how about somethin' sweet?" , a good pinacolada , playful arguments , mint-choc chip icecream , talking a little too loud in public

Summerboy! : taglist

@sailanne , @ayatakanosstuff , @evilari111

This is literally all I’ve been thinking today 😭

So basically, I really want to focus on the Karasuno first years because I feel like there aren’t enough of them. Especially ones that focus on all five of them!!! I am sick and tired of my girl Yachi being left out!!! Or even worse: being treated like a pick me 😭

But anyway, that’s neither here nor there…

So! Picture this:::

A Hinata who still manages to stay optimistic in a time like this, while also looking after Natsu and making sure no harm comes to her. I feel like he’d be somewhat driven by the hope for a better future, and that one day all of this will blow over like a bad dream and he’ll get to play volleyball again . I think that Hinata would play such an integral role in bringing people together, not unlike how he does in the show.

A Kageyama who’s still hurt and angry by his teammates at Kitagawa Daiichi turning their back on him, and then having to deal with this mess on top of that. Major trust issues would ensue, even if it was just over a petty issue. Imagine being alone like that in a scenario like this. And even if his teammates let him stick with them, there’d still be the looming thought of ‘if they turned their backs on me once, they could just as easily do it again’.

A Tsukishima who only has Yamaguchi to lean on and trust, not being comfortable to allow anyone else into his stone wall of a heart. I think that he’d regret his decision to push Akiteru away because now he knows that he’ll never get the chance to reconcile with him. Tsukishima definitely won’t be most agreeable of the group, especially when it comes to help, but I think his role in this is important nonetheless!!!

A Yamaguchi who knows damn well that he wouldn’t be able to survive out here if it wasn’t for Tsukki. A Yamaguchi who pushes Tsukishima to make connections with other people, insisting that it’s better for survival and definitely not because Tadashi thinks that he’s going die and doesn’t what Kei to be left on his own or anything… ha ha ha… funny.

And a Yachi who got separated from her mum within the first week of the outbreak, and is now trying to stubble her way through the apocalypse. On top of the worry of being caught by zombies, she’s also left to battle her paranoia that she’s going to have a run in with a not so nice group of men- I fear she’d rather be caught by zombies actually. I think that, just like the show, Hinata would play a crucial role in making her feel comfortable around them all- the presence of Natsu would also help.

But yeah, I have SO many idea for this AU and where I want to take it- or at least up until they get to Tokyo…

I’ll probably end up posting this on AO3 after I’ve written the first few chapters. I hope whoever’s reading this found this interesting!!!!

the ravens eye is a diner fixated in the middle of the university campus. it’s mostly ran by students, with waiters, cooks, and hosts all working to make a bit of money to get them through their studies. y/n is no different from the rest, working as a waitress for the quaint diner. but taking orders, running food, and cleaning booths gets a bit mundane after a while, so where will she find light in the diner?

multiple haikyuu characters x f!reader, all separate

warnings/notes: university au, restaurant au, basing this off of my experiences as a server, possible kys jokes, possible language, possible drinking, grammar mistakes, maybe a bit ooc but i try my hardest, each character has a different section, none of the stories are connected, maybe a bit of smau, but mostly written, i’m not exactly sure yet, may take me a while to finish this, and it may be a little overly ambitious but YAY! check individual characters for warnings!

taglist: open! send an ask to be added, and specify if you want to be added to every one, or just certain characters.

opening shift

the diner

genre: haikyuu imagine, slight smut

pairing: kei tsukishima x fem!reader

summary: fast furious inspired but i never watched the movie.

you swore you were done with this shit.

racing.

engines snarling like wild things, streets lit with flickering LEDs and cigarette lighters, bets barked into thick night air.

you’d lived enough of it to know what came next. the high, the crash, the long silence afterward.

your dad died on the track.

not a metaphor. not some quiet decay of spirit.

a real crash. metal screaming. fuel in flames.

he flipped doing 110 trying to shave milliseconds, the whole town betting on him to win.

you found out later he’d bet everything he had. everything you had. your college fund. your mom’s savings. her wedding ring.

gone. all of it, before the second lap.

your mom didn’t cry when they told her. just shut the garage door and left it locked for a year.

then, just when she started to breathe again, you nearly died too.

a night run. stupid impulse. someone else’s car, someone else’s ego. a curve taken too fast, and then nothing but noise, nothing but pain.

you woke up with a fractured rib, road rash down your hip, and a jagged scar across your side that still tugs when you stretch.

your mom cried then. harder than at the funeral.

held your hand like it was the last thing she had left and said, “i can’t do this again.”

so you quit.

pulled the tarp over baby blue. tried to forget the way it felt to fly.

…

you were stocking vending machines at your part-time job when you met him.

it was late, past midnight, the parking lot humid, the hum of cicadas louder than the overhead lights.

you’d clocked out with a sour attitude and sticky palms, uniform shirt tied around your waist, walking toward your busted civic when you saw him.

tall. lean. sharp lines.

leaning against a yellow 350Z, aggressive and spotless, parked two slots down from your car.

not looking at you — looking at her.

baby blue.

your hood was popped, half her engine exposed. you’d checked the coolant before your shift and forgot to close it.

he didn’t even flinch as you approached, just tilted his head at the sight of you.

“didn’t think she’d still run.”

you squinted. “excuse me?”

he nodded at the chipped paint along the fender, the mismatched spoiler — all scars you remembered helping your dad patch.

“baby blue. i remember her. your dad used to open her up on third and ash, right?”

your jaw tensed. “she doesn’t race anymore.”

he looked back at her, thoughtful. “shame. waste of good blood.”

you frowned. “the hell does that mean?”

he finally looked at you.

and when his eyes hit yours, narrow, amber, sharp as sin, it was like being sized up and stripped bare at the same time.

“you were better than him,” he said, simple. “cleaner. smarter. faster.”

you felt your throat close up. “don’t talk about my dad.”

he held your gaze. didn’t blink. then: “race me.”

you laughed in his face. “fuck no.”

“i’ll pay for your tune-up. no strings. just race me.”

“i can’t afford a race.” you couldn’t afford to lose.

“don’t want your money,” he said. “i want the story.”

you stepped closer. “what’s your angle?”

his smirk was small and devastating.

“i want to see if the legend’s real.”

…

he dropped money on parts like he was buying gum.

coilovers, pads, an oil cooler. high-grade synthetic. a new clutch kit.

and then, to your surprise, he didn’t drop it off and vanish.

he came to your garage.

night after night. t-shirt rolled at the sleeves, hair pulled into a lazy tie, hands already dirty.

he worked quiet. efficient.

passed tools before you asked. understood baby blue’s rusted wiring like it was language.

“you really could’ve just paid someone,” you said once, yanking open baby blue’s rusted hood.

“where’s the fun in that?”

he knew your car like he built her himself.

and you hated how easy it was to fall into rhythm with him, passing tools, brushing hands, swapping stories without really talking about anything.

you also hated that it only took three nights before he had your legs around his waist.

you’d been underneath the chassis. tank top sticking to your back. grease on your stomach.

he leaned over to hand you a wrench and you’d caught a flash of his stomach under that black t-shirt, lean and pale and when you looked up — he was already watching you.

“you’re staring,” you said, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

he crouched down. voice low. “yeah?”

you didn’t mean to say it.

“wash your hands first.”

but he did.

and the next thing you knew, your back was hitting the garage wall, mouth open under his, his fingers under your waistband, grease still smudging his neck.

he didn’t ask. just kissed you like he already had. like it was tradition.

mouth hot, unyielding. tongue piercing clinking against your teeth.

you tasted heat, dust, black coffee.

and when your back hit the hood of baby blue, you felt the metal rattle against your spine.

you gasped.

you let him lift you up, thighs hooked around his hips. his fingers pressed into your waist, teeth at your neck, hips rolling hard between your legs.

you didn’t stop him.

didn’t want to.

and after that, every night, it was the same.

you fixed the car.

he fucked you against it.

quiet. messy. stretched across her hood, bent over her door.

sometimes your hands shook from the engine. sometimes from him.

sometimes both.

your mom stopped checking in on you guys in the garage.

you didn’t stop going.

…

the night of the race, everything felt loud.

louder than it should’ve.

streetlights lit up the city like an altar.

your hands trembled as you pulled your gloves on. tsukishima leaned against his yellow Z, arms crossed, lips quirked.

“hope you’re not gonna go easy on me,” you said, brushing your thumb along your gearshift.

his gaze was molten. “never.”

he stepped closer and your breath hitched.

“but when i win…” his eyes dipped, slow, raking down your body and back up again. “…you owe me.”

you licked your lips. “what exactly do you want?”

he smirked. “i got a couple ideas.”

…

he won.

barely.

you pull up second, tires smoking, chest rising like you ran the whole way.

he’s already out of the car, eyes blown wide, golden under the lights.

you climb out, breathless.

don’t say anything at first.

he walks toward you. stops close. “you almost had me.”

you stare at him.

at the sweat on his collarbone, the way his forearm flexes when he wipes his mouth.

“how much did you bet?”

“enough.”

you shift, grimacing. “i’ll pay you. i just… not all at once. might take a few—”

“y/n, i don’t want your money.”

you blink. “then what do you want?”

his gaze dips. you feel it before he says anything, the weight of it on your skin.

“i think you know.”

you smile. slow. feel your fingers twitch to grab his jacket.

“garage?” you offer, voice low.

he tilts his head. “backseat.”

your breath catches.

you grab his wrist and pull him into the dark, and when his hands hit your waist again, you’re already unzipping your hoodie.

baby blue purrs behind you.

he’s depressed. she’s depressed. it’s all they ever talk about. she’s willing to try anything to feel better. he’s less optimistic

pairings: iwaizumi x f!reader

status: completed, uploading all the chapters today & then disappearing again

tags/warnings: online friends to lovers, blended smau (every chapter has written parts), university au, mini-series, happy ending, hurt/comfort, lots and lots of frank discussions on mental health, depression tweets, casual discussions of suicidal ideation (no death or sh), disordered behaviors, recovery

taglist: i’m not doing one please do not ask to be added

prologue: the list

chapter one: exercise

chapter two: nurture yourself with good nutrition

chapter three: connect with a support system

chapter four: help yourself by helping others

chapter five: demonstrate gratitude

moodboard by @causenessus

divider credits to roseraris

𖦹his hands are worn from years of volleyball. her’s are worn from years of playing guitar 𖦹

main masterlist

status: completed, but i reserve the right to post bonus content at random

tags: kuroo x f!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, serendipity, university au, reader is a musician in an indie punk band

warnings: language, alcohol use, violence, adult themes, mommy issues im giving yn mommy issues forgot to mention that, grammatical mistakes probably, everyone probably will be out of character, please note warnings may change as story progresses, and to check each chapter for individual warnings

minors dni

taglist: closed

each part is named after the song i listened to while making it

playlist one playlist two

introductions: the band | the team

track one: dumb fucks track two: hair of dog track three: monkey jaw track four: hooked fish [✐] track five: magnet track six: the the empty track seven: heaven track eight: bag of worms track nine: all i think about now track ten: rigid track eleven: the shadow baby track twelve: waiting so long [✐] track thirteen: trace me onto you track fourteen: enumerating track fifteen: kute track sixteen: drunk voicemail [✐] track seventeen: all this love [✐] track eighteen: cream of gold track nineteen: liar's love [✐] track twenty: kill me track twenty-one: anything [✐] track twenty-two: just like heaven [✐]

bonus content: band lore nishinoya + hinata lore mommy issues lore tanaka + kiyoko lore bloody nose (extra chapter)

yn style guide

daily click for palestine 🇵🇸

moodboard/description on calloused hands from @causenessus

yn has been chasing the thrill of fame her whole life, and iwaizumi has just been chasing her.

a girl who wants the fame and a boy who wants none of it.

hajime iwaizumi x f!reader

status: finished!!

warnings/notes: language, smoking, alc, sensitive topics, angst, most def ooc, my first smau so probably little mistakes here and there, dividers!! from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

intros:

beach volleyball | the humble abode | trap house

chapters:

part 1: wrong way part 2: wiseman part 3: the more you live the more you love part 4: when you sleep part 5: ivy part 6: the way things go part 7: race part 8: wonderwall part 9: this night has opened my eyes part 10:more than words part 11: nights part 12: baby came home part 13: baby came home 2/valentines

general:

pairing: tooru oikawa x fem!reader.

genre: pokemon au, alola island.

status: complete (7/7).

summary: you came to alola for a work-study, not to piss off the region’s most beloved pokemon trainer. but after a grocery store scuffle, a surprise win, and a few too many late-night training sessions, oikawa tooru is becoming harder to ignore.

chapters:

chapter one: off the map

chapter two: kahele aukai pokemon training academy

chapter three: melemele heat

chapter four: lab lights, late night

chapter five: warm-up round

chapter six: under the malasada moon