#cute agression

[newanius]

Only one chapter in and I’m already invested in @lowqualitydriftjpg newest fic. Read Deadlock with a bitty and had to draw them. I’m looking forward to read more of this fic. :>

[adhdoofenshmirtz]

Cute aggression

[salientseraph]

I'm Incredibly Normal about Data in Thine Own Self

Also might make these digital we shall see

[brisarasposa]

🕊️Codicia

Qué codiciosa que soy

cuando veo algo que me interesa,

o me despierta alguna emoción intensa.

Como esa palomita

parada frente a mi ventana.

La observo,

como si fuera la misma paloma,

preguntándome qué siente,

qué ve desde sus sentidos.

Pero no me conformo con solo mirar.

Es tan gorda y esponjosa…

Ahí aparece mi codicia.

Quiero tocarla,

tomarla,

acariciarla.

Dios… es tan tierna

que hasta me dan ganas de morderla.

Pero no.

Luego de exhalar,

Solo me permito mirar.

[nyangsterz]

⋆🍼! ꩜｡ˎˊ˗ BROCON ── kageyama tobio.

First part of BROCON ─ part 1 // part 2

SYPNOSIS. To everyone else, Kageyama Tobio is intimidating—the sharp-tongued King of the Court.

To you, he’s just Tobio-chan. Your earnest, brilliant, cute little brother.

You cheer too loud at his matches because you know he cares more than he lets on. And when it comes to protecting him—especially from Oikawa Tooru—you don’t hesitate. From the court to the classroom, you make it your mission to outshine, outscore, and out-annoy anyone who looks down on him.

While Tobio perfects his sets, you make sure he never doubts one thing:

someone is always, loudly, on his side.

PAIRING. older sister!reader x younger bro!kageyama tobio, kageyama's older sis!reader x oikawa toruu

GENRES. fluff, slice of life, sibling life, heavy brother complex, reader LOVES tobio, includes oikawa and iwaizumi, oikawa x reader rivalry, not romance

WORD COUNT. 2.1K

AUTHORS NOTE. ── ★ Hi againn!! ive been rewatching haikyuu recently and i just LOVEEEE tobio. hes literally my child and i love him smmmm. this is a very self insert story because if i was his older sister omg i would literally combust from cuteness aggression all day, especially that pic of him with oikawa and iwa in middle school, HOLY FRICK SO CUTEUH!! So enjoy or not idc, this one i wrote for myself hehehe ;p

To most people, Kageyama Tobio is intimidating.

Sharp eyes. Sharp Tongue. A setter who demands perfection and looks personally offended when the ball doesn't obey him. Whispers follow him wherever he goes—arrogant, difficult, the King of the Court.

But to you?

To you, he has always been Tobio-chan.

And Tobio-chan is CUTE.

Your baby brother. Your annoying, brilliant, painfully earnest little brother who used to cry when his shoelaces came undone and couldn’t retie them fast enough.

You're a third-year now, busy with exams and college forms, but when you can you still stop by the Karasuno gym. You lean against the wall with your arms crossed, pretending not to stare.

You fail miserably.

Because Tobio is there—jumping, setting, yelling, glowing with effort. Every movement is precise, every breath intentional. He looks so serious it almost hurts.

God, you think fondly, he’s so cute it should be illegal.

You have always loved him too loudly.

When they were younger, you used to squish his cheeks until he yelled. you still do it now, consequences be damned.

“Tobio-chan~” you sing the moment practice ends, swooping in and ruffling his hair.

“STOP THAT,” he snaps, swatting at your hands.

His ears are red.

Victory.

“You worked so hard today,” you say, eyes sparkling. “Did you eat properly? You need carbs. And protein. And sleep.”

“Shut up.” Tobio mutters.

You hum with a slight smile. 

Cute, you think.

You know Tobio better than anyone.

You know he doesn’t raise his voice because he wants to hurt people—he raises it because his thoughts run too fast and his mouth can’t keep up. You know he notices everything: missteps, mood shifts, who’s lagging behind, who didn’t eat lunch.

He pretends not to care.

But you’ve seen him stay up late replaying matches in his head. You’ve seen him silently hand over his water bottle. You’ve seen him freeze when he thinks he disappointed someone.

People say he only cares about volleyball.

They’re wrong.

He just doesn’t know how to say things gently.

During matches, Kageyama Tobio stands at the service line, shoulders squared, eyes sharp.

You cheer louder than anyone.

When Tobio was little, he hated sudden noises.

Fireworks. Balloons popping. Doors slamming shut. He would freeze, eyes wide, body locked, like the world had hit him all at once.

You learned early to crouch down, cover his ears.

Now, when the referee’s whistle shrieks, he doesn’t flinch.

He exhales. Focuses. Serves.

“Tobio-chan!” you yell. “NICE SERVE!”

He whips his head around, mortified. 

You press your palms together, heart swelling in that familiar way—pride braided with something softer, more fragile.

So cute!

Everyone sees karasuno’s genius setter.

But you see a six-year-old boy gripping your sleeve too tightly afraid of getting lost in a crowd.

When Tobio sets a perfect set.

You SCREAM.

“THAT’S MY BROTHER. DID YOU SEE THAT SET? HE'S REALLY A GENIUS!”

Tobio’s face goes nuclear red.

SO. SO. CUTE!

Watching Tobio during matches always makes you emotional.

It starts as pride—bright and immediate, swelling in your chest the moment he steps onto the court. Then comes happiness, warm and steady, the kind that settles deep in your bones as you watch him move with such certainty, such purpose. And beneath that, there’s something softer, harder to name. A quiet ache. A tenderness that presses against your heart and stays there.

You remember the first time he tossed a ball in the air and served his first ever volleyball.

He stared at his hands like they were magic.

“…Again,” he said, a small voice trembling.

He didn’t stop until his palms were red and his eyes were shining—not with tears, but determination.

You remember when he tripped during a practice game and scraped his knee so badly blood soaked his socks. He refused to cry until we got home.

Then he broke down in the doorway, shaking, furious at himself for “being weak.”

You cleaned his knee while he clenched his teeth, and told him being hurt didn’t mean being weak.

You don’t know if he remembers any of these.

But you see it now—in the way he gets back up every time. The way his focus sharpens until the world disappears. The way his hands never hesitate, even when everything else feels loud and overwhelming. The way he trusts himself now, even if just a little more than before.

You watch him and think of every version of him that led to this moment—the small boy gripping a volleyball like it was a lifeline, the frustrated kid who blamed himself for every mistake, the lonely genius who just wanted to be understood. All of that lives in him still, layered beneath the confident setter everyone sees.

And somehow, seeing all of it at once hurts in the best way.

After Karasuno scores the final point, the gym explodes.

Tobio looks up at the stands again.

You wave.

Just a small one this time.

He rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile.

After the match Tobio tugs on your sleeve.

“We’re leaving,” he mutters.

You immediately soften. “Okay, okay.”

As you walk away, you sling an arm around his shoulders.

“You did amazing,” you say. “You always do your best.”

“…You yelled too much,” he complains.

You grin. “I know you like it.”

“I DO NOT.”

“Do to.”

He goes quiet.

Then: “…Shut up.”

Which, to you, means thank you.

You’ve known Tobio your whole life.

You know the version of him the world sees: unbothered, blunt, seemingly immune to opinions. A boy who looks like he only cares about volleyball and nothing else.

But you know the truth.

You know he listens. Always has.

When Tobio was younger, he used to ask questions he already knew the answer to.

Was that okay?Did I do it right?Was I annoying?

He stopped asking eventually. Not because he stopped caring—but because he learned that caring out loud made people uncomfortable.

So he learned to care silently.

You never did.

That’s why you yell.

That’s why you cheer too loud, clap too hard, scream CUTEEE at things no one else notices. 

You do it because you know he hears it.

Even when he pretends he doesn’t.

Especially then.

You’ve watched people talk over him, misunderstand him, label him as difficult and move on. You’ve seen how that makes his shoulders tense, how his words get sharper the more unsure he feels.

So you make sure there’s always one voice he never has to doubt.

Yours.

Loud. Embarrassing. Unapologetic.

If the world is going to be critical, then you will be excessive in the opposite direction.

Tobio shrugs your arm off a little, not enough to escape—just enough to pretend he’s not leaning into you.

“You don’t have to do all that,” he says, quieter now.

You look at him, really look at him.

The boy who works until his hands ache. The boy who feels things too deeply and doesn’t know how to say it gently. The boy who acts like nothing gets to him because it’s easier than admitting that things do.

“I know,” you reply.

Then, gently: “But I want to.”

He doesn’t answer.

But he walks a little closer.

And that’s enough.

You’ll keep yelling. Keep cheering. Keep embarrassing him.

Because even if everyone else thinks Kageyama Tobio doesn’t care what people think—

You know better.

And you’ll make sure he never has to wonder, not even for a second, whether someone is on his side.

“You’re coming to Nationals too, right?” he asks, eyes still on the road ahead us.

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“…Okay.”

That’s all he says.

But his shoulders relax, just a little.

And you think—how strange it is that the boy everyone fears is the same one who feels safest when he knows I’m watching.

Your little brother. Your angry, earnest, brilliant cutie pie.

No matter how tall he gets, or how sharp his gaze becomes, to you he will always be the boy who burns too brightly and doesn’t know how to dim himself.

And you will always adore him for it.

With loving Kageyama Tobio it also meant protecting him from danger known as Oikawa Toruu 

You went to Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High.

Same class. Same grade.

Oikawa Tooru sat two seats away, loud and dramatic even back then. Iwaizumi Hajime sat nearby, permanently exasperated. And you—unfortunately for everyone involved—were already known as that girl who loves her little brother.

Back then, Tobio was still small. Serious. Clutching his volleyball like it was oxygen.

And you were already unbearable.

Now, Unfortunately for him, you’re all at Aoba Johsai together, same class, same grade, pretending you’re mature.

You are not.

School hasn’t even started when you spot Oikawa at his desk.

You squint. “Why do you look like that?”

Oikawa gasps. “Wow. Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“You are not my friend,” you reply flatly. “You’re a man who keeps dissing my brother.”

You and Oikawa have had a rivalry ever since you've known him.

Not because Tobio cared about how badly Oikawa treated him.

But because you did.

Oikawa calls Tobio “creepy” one time and suddenly you’re standing there like an angry guard dog.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” you’d said back in middle school. “He’s just focused.”

“He’s rude,” Oikawa replied.

“You’re loud.”

“I’m charismatic.”

“You’re annoying.”

And it’s been like that ever since.

Protecting Kageyama Tobio is not a suggestion. It is a mission.

Some people shield their siblings gently. Some give quiet encouragement. You?

You ruin Oikawa Tooru’s life in small, consistent, deeply personal ways.

It starts in class.

Aoba Johsai’s classroom is loud before the bell—Oikawa leaning back in his chair, bragging loudly about volleyball strategies no one asked for, Iwaizumi already done with the day, and you calmly reviewing notes like you’re not about to commit a crime.

Oikawa glances over. “Wow, studying already? You’re so serious.”

You smile sweetly. Dangerously. “Yeah. I like being good at things outside of volleyball.”

Iwaizumi sighs. He knows what’s coming.

When exam results come back.

Oikawa grabs his paper first, grinning—until his eyes flick sideways.

To yours.

You got a higher score.

Again.

You don’t even look surprised. You just tilt your paper slightly so he can see.

Silence.

Then—

“Huh,” you say. “Turns out the best setter is only knowledgeable about volleyball.”

Oikawa chokes. “HEY—”

Iwaizumi and a couple of other classmates sighed.

Here they go again... They all think

Your rivalry is… famous.

Teachers notice. Classmates whisper. Someone once asked if you and Oikawa used to date.

“I would rather eat chalk,” you said.

Oikawa still hasn’t recovered.

This happens every exam.

Math. History. Japanese. English.

You don’t study harder out of ambition.

You study harder out of spite.

Because somewhere out there is your little brother—quiet, intense, trying so hard—and if Oikawa Tooru thinks he gets to talk down on him?

Absolutely not.

“You know, you don’t have to compete with me in everything.”

You blink. “Oh, I’m not competing.”

You step closer.

“I’m winning.”

He twitches.

“With how narcissistic you are,” you continue thoughtfully, “I really thought your grades would be better.”

Iwaizumi turns away. He has morals. Weak ones, but still.

The best moments are when Tobio is mentioned.

Oikawa complained one afternoon, slumped over his desk. “Your brother is so persistent. He annoys me.”

You look up slowly.

Smile gone.

“Interesting,” you say. “Coming from someone whose entire personality is being up in everyone’s business.”

Oikawa bristles. “That’s different.”

“Oh?” You tap your pen. “Because from where I’m standing, on and off the court you still lose to my family.”

Silence.

Then—

“DAMN,” someone said too loudly.

Iwaizumi closes his eyes trying to stay out of their petty rivalry

Meanwhile, Tobio has no idea.

He just knows you show up to his matches louder than anyone, scream CUTEEE when he adjusts his jersey, and glare at Oikawa like he personally wronged your bloodline.

“Why do YOU hate that guy so much?” Tobio asks once, genuinely confused.

You beam. “I don’t hate him.”

“…You don’t?”

“I tolerate him,” you correct. 

He processes this.

“…Okay.”

And then, quieter: “You don’t have to do that.”

You freeze.

Then you grab his face.

“LOOK AT YOU WORRYING ABOUT ME. CUTEEE.”

“I’M SERIOUS.”

“I KNOW. THAT’S WHY IT’S CUTE.”

The truth is simple.

You’ve seen Tobio struggle. Misunderstood. Labeled arrogant when he was just earnest. Cold when he was overwhelmed. You’ve watched him work himself raw just to be understood.

So if the world won’t defend him—

You will.

And Oikawa Tooru?

He is merely collateral damage.

After another exam, you pass Oikawa in the hallway.

You hold up your paper.

“Oh my,” you say lightly. “Looks like the Kageyama's win again!”

He stares at you, devastated.

“y/n-chan… you're so mean.”

You smile. “HAHA YOU ADMIT DEFEAT!”

And somewhere else, Tobio Kageyama is setting a ball perfectly—unaware that his greatest defender is not on the court, but in a classroom, sharpening her pen.

AUTHORS NOTE. ── ★ Thank you for readingg!! hope u enjoyed my first ever anime fic, erm i wanna apologize if i made any mistakes, i wrote this while rewatching haikyuu late at night, and i was just having too much fun adding stuff to the story. in the future i will write more anime fics, i'll try to write more consistently hope u enjoy!! <3

COMMENTS, FEEDBACKS, NOTES, AND REBLOGS ARE ALL APPRECIATED

[layla4567]

Bob!sentry blurb - fluff, cute agression, established relationship(?, romantic, sfw Not requested but based on this

The first thing you thought when you saw Bob in that golden suit was how pathetically adorable he looked. His sweet, peaceful puppy face contrasted sharply with that superhero suit and his blond hair. It's as if his face didn't fit on that hunky body.

You just wanted to squeeze his cheeks and poke and pinch them like a grandmother who hadn't seen her beloved grandson in a long time. And when he waited patiently for Valentina to finish talking while staring at her or at us? Damn, he looked so lost but so cute at the same time. You just wanted to bite his pretty little face. How could he be so sexy and cute at the same time? It was unfair.

You could spend hours, even days, choosing your favorite lipstick and start kissing his entire face hard, leaving marks on his nose, forehead, and cheeks while you violently held the sides of his face, making the flesh of his face stick together, forcing him to pout. God, gee! You just loved him so much and loved how effortlessly handsome and adorable he was.

And when everything with the Void had passed and Bob was already more stable in terms of his powers (he still used his suit) this little ritual of kissing his face while sitting on his lap became routine. You wrapped your arms around his neck and between giggles you started to bite his cheeks lightly while he just sat there with that innocent and confused face that had started it all.

"Uhg H'ney? What aresh you ssdoing?" Bob asked in a pout as you squeezed his cheeks to kiss his face violently.

"Just giving you the love you deserve, babe"

And he never complains a bit; he likes to feel loved. Although he didn't know how to react at first, he gradually grew accustomed to your strange reaction to him (he hadn't realized what you were thinking, seeing him in that suit).

And the rest of the team? At first, they wondered what the hell you were doing, looking at you with reproachful faces for having so much nerve and little dignity. But over time, they had to get used to it, and now no one complains or is surprised. And when someone walks towards where you two are, they first look at Bob, who returns the look with a simple shrug and a shy smile, and then they look at you, who was in the middle of a session of intense make-out and unhinged kitten bites. Yes, they'll just roll their eyes and walk away sighing.

"It's happening again..."

[deathmybride]

I love him so much FUCK *rampages and destroys a sprawling metropolitan city*

[perdrelacellule]

Quand je vois inoxtag je peux pas m'empêcher de le trouver un peu mignon et ça M'ENERVE.