ヒカリアレ

zhi. aspiring writer ! requests are open ( though not guaranteed to be written ! )

[caeneri]

MSBY Black Jackals, Then vs Now

Here we have the sun, a furry, a tax evader, and a thot. Note: atsumu’s weight during his Inarizaki years is 73.3 kg. i’m sorry for the error!

[suncelia-art]

Omi-cat & masks

[suncelia-art]

Omi-cat & masks

[atsuumus]

[ 11:47 PM ]

in the later hours of the night, when you've almost dozed off on the couch, oikawa comes home. his hands are red and still sweating from his own ' extra practice ', soaking through his shirt and running salty rivers down his cheeks. he expects the lights to be off, you having gone to sleep long before, but his tired eyes find your sleepy ones when you look up at him, a lazy smile on your lips. " you're home, " you make to stand from the couch but he shakes his head, walking over to you with exhaustion written in his every movement, feet dragging on the floor ever so slightly. he collapses onto the couch beside you, gathering you into his arms. you're too sleepy to mind that he's sweaty and kind of gross. " you waited, " he sounds surprised, like he can't quite believe that you stayed up just to welcome him home, while he trained all alone in the too-large gym, tossing and slamming the volleyball until new calluses formed on his palms and the raw skin of his fingers blistered, until the ache in his knees grew too painful to ignore any longer and the security guard came by to chase him out and lock the door. he can't believe that you cared enough about him to sacrifice your rest to greet him. " of course i did, " you yawn, leaning into his chest and taking one of his hands in yours, gently massaging them to try and soothe the angry red coating them. " if you work hard and hurt yourself, i'll have to take care of you, don't i ? "

there are times when oikawa wonders how he got an angel like you to love him, and when he remembers just why he loves you.

[atsuumus]

all i do at this point is go thru the atsumu tag nd cry 👍

[atsuumus]

hi! i really love your haikyu imagines, so i thought i’d send in a request. could you please do an imagine where the reader has an obvious crush on ushijima, and she’s always trying to show him she likes him, but he’s just really oblivious to her advances? thank you! (:

hey !! thank you for the request and the kind words, it means a lot to me :(( you can find your request here !

[atsuumus]

risks

pairing - ushijima wakatoshi x reader

synopsis - 

word count - 1.05k

a/n - i’m sorry this is so late !! i was a little busy ,, i hope you enjoy anon ! thank you for requesting :< it really made my day. feel free to tell me if this wasn’t what you wanted or if there’s something you’d like changed ! 

at this point, you’re pretty certain that the entirety of shiratorizawa academy knows of the glaringly obvious crush you have on resident volleyball ace, ushijima wakatoshi. you’re kind of used to the vaguely pitying gazes your peers throw you in the hallways, knowing of your very public, very obvious, very fruitless attempts at showing him your affections.

you have tried everything. you’ve gone through multiple websites and magazine articles with titles like ‘ show him you like him ! ’ and ‘ 10 ways to confess !! ( without confessing ) ’, tried every technique they’ve offered you, asked friends, family, and sometimes even utter strangers for tips and ideas, but nothing has worked. the bento you left on his table, everything inside shaped like hearts, was accepted with a thank you, eaten, and then never talked about again. the love letters you left on his table replied to with post-it notes that had something along the lines of ‘ thank you for your kind words ’ written along the bottom. every single compliment you pay him in person has failed to fluster him - no matter what you say, he responds with a sincere ‘ thank you ’ and sometimes pays you a compliment back, but you know that he views everything you do and say platonically.

tendou has patted your back apologetically so many times that you think your uniform blouse now bears a permanent mark in the shape of his hand.

the worst part is that you know that he genuinely doesn’t see that you have a crush on him. he’s a very blunt, honest person - one of the reasons why you like him so much - and would probably reject you straight to your face if he knew. it’s a blessing and a curse. a blessing, because it means that you might still have a chance, but a curse, because you have done everything in your power to show him that you are interested in him in a romantic way, yet he still hasn’t picked up on it.

well. . . almost everything.

straight-up confessing to him is the one thing you haven’t tried. it is your last resort, the riskiest choice and the one that requires the most courage. a confession would either free you from the never-ending hell that is trying to subtly hint at the unbelievably oblivious ushijima, but it could also hand him the ability to shatter your heart into a million tiny pieces with just a few words. however, it is quickly becoming more and more apparent that it is also the only way the stoic male will ever get the hint, so you suppose that you’ll just have to bite the bullet and do it.

this is how you find yourself standing in front of the doors to the gym, waiting patiently for the object of your affections to come out. your own club activities ended not too long ago, and you figured the volleyball club would be packing up soon. you were right - you can see tendou picking up the balls around the court, a ball of bright red bobbing up and down next to a very familiar silhouette. it’s almost as if he senses you peeking in through the window, because the boy turns around and spots you, shooting you a discreet grin like he knows what you’re here to do. 

other than them, though, the gym seems strangely empty.

tendou disappears into the storage room with an armful of blue and yellow volleyballs, and you take a deep breath. this is it. you have two pints of ben and jerry’s stored away in your fridge just in case. you’re ready. you can do this.

you open the door to the gym, pink already dusting your cheeks as you gather all the courage in your body. the first call of his name is soft, timid, barely more than a whisper, and he obviously doesn’t hear it. you bite your lip before trying again.

“ ushijima ! “

this time, he hears you. he turns, a question in his eyes, and you beckon to him shyly, motioning for him to come outside.

you think you have never felt more fear than when he complies, looking more than a little confused. your heart slams against your ribcage when he steps outside before sliding the door shut and turning to face you expectantly, waiting for you to say whatever it is you had presumably called him outside to say.

“ i. . . um. . . ” now that you’re really about to do it, you realise you don’t quite know what to say. should you just keep it short and simple ? or maybe you should do that whole speech you practiced in the mirror. all the articles run through your mind all at once, and then it occurs to you that it really isn’t too late to run away. you need to calm down.

you take another deep breath, holding it before letting it go, releasing all the tension in your frame as you do so. eight letters, three words. even if you get your heart broken here, it’s okay. you have two pints of ben and jerry’s ready for you at home.

so you look him in the eye with a determination you never knew you had, and you stop fidgeting with the sleeves of your blazer. it’s getting late, and the sky’s already dark - the days never last very long in the winter, and the cold paints your pink cheeks red. ushijima’s expression shifts, though you can’t quite identify it.

“ i like you, ” you begin, and while your voice wavers a little and your cheeks are warm, you continue. “ romantically. i have a crush on you. you don’t have to say anything, but i just wanted you to know. ”

there’s a moment of silence. you’re just about to run away, taking his lack of reaction as a rejection, but then he smiles. under the light of the moon and what leaks through the windows of the gym, his eyes press into crescents and his lips curve upwards. it reassures you, somehow, makes you relax again, catching onto the hidden meaning behind the smile. 

you think you’ll take more risks in the future.

[magesup]

finding out bokuto has two older sisters has ruined my life and threw off my entire schedule

[atsuumus]

set, confess | tobio kageyama

pairing - tobio kageyama x reader

synopsis - in which kageyama runs away from you every time you try to confess to him, and you don’t know why.

word count - 2.08k

he has to be doing this on purpose. you can come up with no other explanation why every time you approach him with a gift in your hand and a confession on your lips, he simply takes the little cardboard box, gives you a curious, vaguely concerned glance, and thanks you for the treat before running off with his milk. you can never think of anything else to give him. it’s always milk. you’re pretty sure the button for milk on the vending machine is irreversibly dented inwards by now, both from his aggressive jabs and your constant presses. every single time you finally pluck up enough courage to even consider telling him of the feelings that bubble up in your heart ( which, if you’re being honest, is pretty much every other week, seeing how your friends’ constant pestering and teasing always bring you to proclaim that you’ll actually tell him this time, and then never get the chance to ) and slip a few coins into the worn white vending machine in exchange for a packet of milk, you end up watching the blue words printed on its surface slowly get further and further away as the boy named tobio kageyama runs towards the gym a little bit away from the main school building. it’s like the tiny blue smudge in his hands is mocking you. calling you an idiot for buying one after another for a boy who always runs away before you can ever say anything.

by now, you’re convinced that he knows you like him, doesn’t like you back, and is, in fact, purposefully avoiding you so he doesn’t have to hear your confession and brutally reject you. no matter what hitoka says, that has to be the case. you know you can trust her when she swears every time he walks into the gym with a packet of milk you bought him, he seems happier. and every time hinata teases him with a big grin and a “ did y/n buy that for you ? ” he gets all red and flustered and tells him to shut up, because yes, you did, and why would that matter. she says kageyama likes you back. and while you’d trust hitoka with your life and all your secrets, you aren’t so sure you take her word for it. after all, if kageyama really liked you back, as she said, then wouldn’t he actually stop and listen to what you had to say instead of taking his milk packet and running ? if you didn’t like him this much, you’d report him for daylight robbery. the fact that you technically did buy it for him anyways is irrelevant.

you’ve had enough at this point. you’re quickly running out of patience ( and money ) and your heart just physically cannot take this anymore. all you want to do is tell him so he can say no and you can move on. why can’t he stay still long enough to hear you out ? it’s so frustrating. you’re so frustrated. you hate it here. it kinda, really, sucks. you are very, very close to knocking him out and tying him to a chair, just so he can’t go running off to practice the minute the milk packet’s in his hand. all you’d need is some rope and a baseball bat. it’s very possible. the more you think about it, the closer you are to googling where you can buy a baseball bat.

the reasonable part of your brain talks you out of it. it is pretty illegal, and you don’t want to go to jail. that is strictly a last resort. instead, you decide to simply attend the volleyball club’s match ( because what could be more cliche than that ? ) and catch him before he goes home. hitoka's always asked you to attend a match with her, so it should be fine.

hitoka gladly meets up with you at the stadium the next afternoon. you didn’t have time to buy milk for kageyama, and you hand feels strangely empty without that little white packet. you’ve only ever come across volleyball in physical education - the little volleyball segment that’s part of the curriculum is the only experience you’ve had with the sport. hitoka meets up with you as promised and brings you with her to see the team before their match. you only really know the first years - hinata greets you with a smile and a cheerful welcome. tsukishima and yamaguchi are people you’ve seen in passing, and you wave awkwardly at them. the second and third years you bow to. kiyoko, the third-year manager, gives you a smile and thanks you for taking the time to come down and watch. you stand next to hitoka and try your best not to catch kageyama’s eyes, though you see him frown at you every now and then. 

you catch his hand just before you join hitoka in the stands. he seems to holt a little at your touch, but he doesn't pull away. you wonder why. " g-good luck, " you actually meet his eyes this time, and you're surprised to see pink decorating his cheeks. his palm is rough but warm against yours, and you can't help but notice how small your hand is compared to his. for some reason, it makes you soft. he doesn't respond and you let go, turning to run up the stairs after hitoka, cheeks burning red. your palm tingles a little, like your skin is trying to remember the feeling of his hand in yours.

okay, so maybe there's a chance he likes you. at least, that's what you think, before the match starts and you catch him looking at you like you’re a cockroach who snuck into his court. ( you don’t know this, but it’s just because you watching him play makes him nervous for some reason, and he doesn’t know how to process and react accordingly. ) you see him and hinata bicker over something a couple of times, but you have no idea about what. the rest of the team seems to find it amusing - two second years you know as tanaka and nishinoya pat kageyama's back once or twice. you do wonder why kageyama’s cheeks go bright pink every time. ( you don’t know this either, but it’s because hinata says he’s been showing off because you’re here and he likes you and he refuses to admit it. ) you’ve never really liked volleyball to the point where you’d want to play professionally, but you even with your inexperience, you know that they’re good. it’s pretty impressive. you make a mental note to attend another match when hitoka invites you. 

the match ends way too soon - karasuno wins, your voice is very much gone, you’re pretty much exhausted at this point. you’re also severely dehydrated. you might be dying. but it was worth it, because you don’t think you’ve ever seen kageyama that happy. the thought only serves to drive a stake further into your heart, the notion that only something like volleyball will ever make him smile like that - not you, not anything you could ever do. you almost chicken out and run all the way home, but you’re not sure whether you’ll ever have a chance like this again - maybe he’ll be nice when he’s breaking your heart into little pieces, still riding that victory high. 

you start down the stairs towards the doors that lead to the court, where you know you’ll bump into him. on the way, you notice a big white vending machine, not unlike the one back at school, stocked with everything from water to soda to fruit juice. a familiar white packet catches your eye. subconsciously, you pause. it’s like you’re on autopilot - you fish your wallet out of your bag and slip a few coins into the machine, gently pressing the button you want. it’s slightly more expensive than the milk you get from the vending machine back at school, even though it’s the exact same product, right down to those damn blue letters you’ve proclaimed Enemy Number One. it just feels right, you think, as you duck down to collect the little milk packet from the machine. you wrap your fingers around it tightly, the tension going out of your shoulders every so slightly. it feels like an old friend, at this point. you can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.

“ kageyama ! ” you catch him leaving the court, still in his jersey, wiping the sweat from his forehead. he freezes when he hears you call his name, shoulders tensing, and your heart sinks a little bit. he probably doesn’t want to talk to you ; that’s why he’s been running away, why he’s been avoiding you. his eyebrows furrow when he turns to look at you, nose scrunching ever so slightly. that cannot be a good sign. ( the tops of his cheekbones are dusted in hues of red and pink, but that’s only because of the game, right. . . ? wrong. ) 

here you go. it’s long overdue. finally, he’s standing right in front of you. you have to be quick, or he’ll run away again - whether it’s because he doesn’t want to hear this or because he has to go back to the team, he’ll slip through your fingers again. you take a deep breath, before hesitantly extending the little packet of milk towards him. he mutters a soft “ thank you, ” as he reaches out for it, and that’s when the words slip past your lips - “ i-i like you ! ”

he pauses, and when you peek upwards to meet his eyes, you see the confusion swirling in them, the bemused pout on his lips. did he really not know. . . ? “ i like you too. . . ? we’re friends. . . ? ”

you know what. you’re only very slightly surprised.

you’re on the verge of tears, you swear. you’re going to cry. and you don’t cry easily. it’s a mixture of relief, frustration, and a sudden overwhelming urge to simultaneously throw the milk packet at his face and die of sheer relief. inhale, exhale. all this while, you thought he hated you - all this while, he was simply too thick and too focused on volleyball to notice. you hate him. so much. you feel as if your soul has left your body.

“ i. . . no, ” you’re not sure how to continue. your statement only serves to confuse him more. you can’t believe you fell for this man. “ i like you. like, i want to be your girlfriend. you know. that kind of like. ”

every word has you curling into yourself slightly, tucking your chin into the collar of your uniform as a sudden wave of embarrassment washes over you. the hand still holding the milk packet out to him is kind of sore. you wonder if he’ll take it, or if you’ve embarrassed him too.

a choked sound escapes his throat, and you look back up at him in slight alarm - you never considered the possibility that he would quite literally choke and die at your confession, and you wonder what you’ll do if he starts going blue due to a lack of oxygen. you’re about to run off for one of his teammates or something for help, but then he takes the milk packet from your hands and very, very shyly replaces it with his own, pressing his palm against yours like the world’s most awkward handshake. his fingers barely brush your skin, like he’s scared to touch you, and you find that you just really want to hold his hand properly. you have no idea what he’s doing - it makes your heart skip a beat anyways. you don’t really mind this awkward handshake thing. it’s kind of endearing. you’re also just a simp.

he clears his throat, cheeks burning red, and mumbles something, so soft that you can barely hear it. you have a good idea of what it might be, but just to be sure, you ask him to say it again. the words that greet you must be the best things you’ve heard in your entire life, and you’ve heard a lot of things.

“ w-well, i like you too. ”