it's been nearly two years since i first drew this piece but i have finally managed to color it in a way that i'm satisfied with!!! 😤 (original ver here)
07.20.23 happy birthday oikawa <333
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Drawing a randomly generated Haikyuu character (almost) every day until I give up
36. Hirugami Sachirou
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AH I FORGOT TO POST THIS. some scribbles of a fic i read that made me fling around
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suna tries his best to avoid interacting with strangers at all costs. if the cashier forgot to give him his favorite sauce for his chicken nuggets? plain nuggets are actually delicious. if the barista accidently gave him hot coffee instead of iced? a hot drink in the scorching heat suddenly becomes refreshing. he can’t find chuppets in the store? he wasn’t really craving them anyways. it’s just not worth the energy. besides, he has friends like the twins and kita to do that kinda thing for him if it was really bothering him.
that is, until he met you.
you ask suna, your boyfriend, to accompany you to shop at an asian grocery store. he was about to refuse since he typically becomes your personal pack mule during these kinds of outings. he has to follow you around and carry stuff? on a weekend? you must be out of your mind. however, you promise to treat him to lunch and start giving him that look in your beautiful eyes that he simply can’t resist. to be honest, you’re his ultimate weakness and even though you said you were going to treat him, he would’ve paid for it in the end.
because it’s you.
you’re in the grocery store and are able to find most of the things you want to cook for the next week except for one thing: dashi stock. you’ve walked around the place many times and looped through several aisles and fail to find it. you figure it HAS to be in the store because what asian store wouldn’t have this staple ingredient? but your eyes cannot locate it. you start to get anxious because suna is carrying your things and you feel bad having him walk for so long.
suna watches as you grow increasingly frustrated. you start to get a bit upset, but you try your best to hide it. despite your attempts, he can tell this whole situation is stressing you out, so he leaves your side to find a worker. you notice him walking away and quicken your steps to catch up to him.
“rin, where are you going?” you ask.
“to ask a worker where we can find the dashi stock,” he replies simply.
“no! it’s okay. it’s not important anyways,” you say grabbing his arm trying to stop him.
“how are you gonna tell me it’s not important when you took like seven laps around this store? don’t worry, love, we’ll find it,” he replies giving you a gentle smile.
you manage to calm down and his words reassure you. he asks the worker where he can find the dashi stock, but to his dismay, the worker didn’t know and it almost hurts him to tell you this because he never wants to see you sad. while you are feeling defeated, you decide to check the sauce aisle one more time. logically speaking, that is where it would be located. you slowly make your way through the aisle scanning the shelves for it. you’re about to tell suna that you give up and want to go home as you reach the end of the aisle when he suddenly speaks up, but not to you.
“hey, do you guys know where we can find dashi stock?” suna asks the other couple in the aisle.
“oh, it should be right here. it’s on the very bottom shelf so it might be a bit hard to see,” the man replies pointing down.
he thanks the man and grabs the box. he heads over to you and you have this stunned look on your face. he wants to laugh at how cute you look. you just can’t believe he would do something like that. suna has always did the most to avoid interacting with strangers. this is so out of character for him.
“if you want something, you have to ask,” he says while tapping the box on your head.
“that’s rich coming from you,” you scoff.
suna laughs at the comment. you’re not wrong. he’s not sure why he was so determined to find the dashi stock for you. if he was with osamu, he would’ve convinced him to give up and go home. but you’re not osamu. you’re you, someone he cherishes dearly. when he sees how brightly you smile and how energetically you walk, he realizes he would go through hell and back if it meant keeping you happy. suna would overcome anything for you.
while you’re his weakness, you are also the one that gives him strength.
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20 : 58
unassigned assigned seats — they'd always fascinated osamu. they'd fascinated him because he could never fathom how sitting at the same place everyday didn't bore the hell out of people.
it's rush hour at his restaurant and it's even more crowded than usual today. there's clatters of culinary scratching the ceramic and loud laughter from a group of teenagers who are here for lunch. the thin walls of the restaurant vibrate each time there's a beat drop in the song that's blasting through the flimsy speakers. all this noise is giving him a headache.
and then, you walk in.
you with your eyebrows furrowed and an unamused scowl on your lips, you in your light pink shirt and pencil skirt, you who's always stuck to the tuna mayo from the menu and you that always chosen the seat right beside the large glass windows that osamu made sure were devoid of lousy fingerprints.
your eyes scan over the crowd of people and his gaze follows your line of vision. there's someone on your seat — your unassigned assigned seat. this makes your temple hurt. and osamu almost let's out a laugh when he sees you audibly sigh as you walk over to the queue.
you decide you're going to get a take out and have your lunch at the office today. but right as you narrate your usual order to the girl at the other side of the counter, you watch osamu miya — the owner of the restaurant stride over to your seat and ask the guy sat there to politely switch places.
we actually have this seat reserved for someone else , you hear him say.
and when you're walking over to the said seat with your tray of onigiris in hand, you can't help but shoot a smile at him.
osamu's cheeks heat up, he smiles back and excuses himself.
unassigned assigned seats — samu thinks he might be starting to understand just what's so special about them.
next time, he makes sure to ask you why exactly you loved the seat beside the window so much — and if his guts permitted, for your number.
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my favorite thing about stories, be it books or manga, tv shows or movies, or even epic poems and recited songs, is that they never really end -- the part we tell might end: there will always be a last page, or a last episode, a list minute, or a last line, but not really -- because even if it ends here, the story itself keeps on going -- in your heart, in your mind, in the hearts and minds of everyone who's read it or watched it, listened to it or sang it.
and the best part of all that is, even if it does "end", you can go right back to the beginning and start again.
because yes, stories end. the ending will always be there.
but then, so will the beginning.
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3.5k into a tattoo artist!sakusa smut piece that was meant to be, like, 1k max lmao what is wrong with me
but consider sakusa, scowly and looming and always in loose black cargo pants that have no business making this nerd's waist look that good, the artist at black jackal that you definitely want for his designs, but not at all for his bedside manner. he's a little too blunt to be gentle, not the way shouyo or meian are, and his jokes are a little too cutting and teasing to be a comforting distraction, not the way atsumu charms his way through appointments. he's fucking great, and he gets great reviews, but meian makes sure the appointments with nervous clients get shifted someone else's way, only sending tattoo veterans sakusa's way.
and you're scared as hell but also fucking determined to get this tattoo, because you've been thinking about it for too long and shouyo has already gone and helped design it for you, and you are going to do it.
but atsumu calls in sick and shouyo's covering his slot and the schedules have all collided and collapsed in a way that the only person who can cover your appointment is now one sakusa kiyoomi, the intimidating grouch you met when shouyo first started at black jackal. you've never seen him smile, never seen him do anything but glare daggers at atsumu from the corner, and avoid coming out of his studio at the back of the shop like a kid who doesn't want to come out of their room.
and you're ready to fully puke on the floor of his studio, expecting him to be a grade-a asshole and for this to be the longest and loneliest experience of your life, but he's. not?? he's blunt and he still hasn't smiled, but the way he asks permission before he positions you to better access your inner arm and the quiet comfort of him laughing at your nervous attempts at conversation, the absolutely beautiful designs he has pinned neatly to the walls of his studio - it all coalesces into this warm, fuzzy little pocket for the two of you to share for the next thirty minutes.
and suddenly you're realizing that he's really pretty when he's not scowling (and even when he is tbh) and how nice your name sounds in his low voice, and everytime his hands glide over your skin, even through the nitrile gloves, the pleasant buzz they leave behind sinks right into your bone marrow. and suddenly you don't want him to be done in thirty minutes, you don't want him to ever stop putting his hands on you, and you want to waste his time and ask him about the designs on the wall, and when he started art, and why he chose tattooing over traditional art because you're pretty sure that that gorgeous acrylic in the corner is his work, but he finishes and he walks you through the aftercare with a bit more of that deadpan teasing (and that's not the kind of aftercare you fucking want him to walk you through damn it-)
so two weeks later, on a day that shouyo isn't even at work, you turn up with two coffees in hand (was it weird to note how he liked it when he had one on his desk when you came in?? will he notice???) and tell him you want that design on his wall that you wanted to ask him about so badly
oh and you have sex for sure as well
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literally can't believe that haikyuu is such a feel good anime like wdym no one dies in your anime???? wdym happy endings??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HAPPY VIBES?!?!?!??? like as a primarily jjk and bsd enjoyer i simply cannot believe this. like your pairs aren't doomed by the narrative? are you SERIOUS??!?!?!?!??? i'm having the time of my life over here looking at silly wholesome daisuga fanart? what the hell? my sunshine bois aren't gonna go through life altering trauma? the biggest sad they'll get is losing a volleyball match? you're not going to take away their entire family and found family? unreal. madness. absolutely mental. insane.
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I LOVE THE WAY YOU DRAW TSUKKI he's my favorite hq character and he looks so babygirl. <3
thank you!! hes one of my favorite characters his arc is very dear to me
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tbh Bokuto gives me a certain One Piece character vibe- like thinking he's the greatest thing imaginable but the smallest thing will break him and will become depressed until someone compliments him for being the best-
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No Problem
A/N: short Atsumu-centred fic. Going through some issues and he is my muse.
TW: heavily implied ED
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It’s not that Atsumu doesn’t know that he has a problem. But it’s been… manageable.
There’s no need to make a big deal about it, lest he gets called for being an attention seeking whore. And he isn’t. So he keeps his big fat mouth shut.
And it’s not like he’s actually skin and bones. In fact, he could really stand to lose a little bit of weight. The ankle injury from last month that has prevented him from doing his usual morning runs (excuses. It’s just him being lazy as usual) has been eating at him (hah) and he sees it in the thin layer of extra fat whenever he slouches, or god forbid sits down, even just for a bit.
Atsumu has always hated sitting down because he feels it. The way flabs of flesh wobble around underneath his clothes, taunting him. And he feels their stares, especially when he stands next to ‘Samu, his identical in all but this.
God, he would kill for ‘Samu's metabolism rate. It’s not fair that his little brother can be up late at night eating ten onigiris only to sleep it all away, waking up the next morning well and rested, looking as if calories weren’t something he thought about with every mouthful of food.
It’s no wonder Rin chose him, between them. He sees the way they fit together so well, and he’s so genuinely happy for them because he loveslovesloves them. But, he can’t help the small stubborn ache in his chest that questions why he wasn’t even spared a glance. Don’t get him wrong, thinking about anything even remotely romantic to do with Rin makes him feel gross because Rin is as much of a bro to him as ‘Samu is, and man they are really perfect for each other. It was the principle of the matter though; why was Atsumu never seen as the more attractive one of the two? He thought about the one and only difference in them; their physique. And the answer comes easy.
He feels the stares whenever he’s the only one busy catching his breath after running laps around the court, and everyone else is doing fine, probably wondering why he’s having so much trouble keeping up.
On a rational level, he knows he’s likely overthinking and no one is actually staring him down knowing the truth, that he’s fat. A liability to the team, and the only reason why they keep him around is to give ‘Samu face. Group dynamics and all that.
The least he could do is stay in good shape for the team.
So he skips a meal or two, here and there, big deal.
He knows it’s not the healthiest way to do it and maybe he has a problem. But, it’s not that big of a problem. He never does it unnecessarily. Only when he misses a run, or there isn’t training that week. He rationalizes that if he’s not working out, he doesn’t need the extra energy, and if he does take in the extra energy, it’ll only be converted to fats, and that’s wrong. So screw everybody else, he’s right and he makes sense.
Numbers don’t lie. The truth hurts and the weighing machine is as truthful as you’re ever gonna get.
On the bright side, he’s come to actually enjoy the hunger pangs. The growling. It makes him feel good, like he’s earned something. It shuts the voices in his head when he can't sleep, because at least then, he can feel proud of the self-control that he has, and nothing can take that away from him.
But, it's never enough. Because somehow, no matter how many meals he skips, he never sees a difference in the mirror, in the numbers, in the stares.
So he'll continue this... thing, until he feels successful.
Until then, no, Atsumu doesn’t have a problem. If anything, he’s only fixing a problem - himself.
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Volume 18 finally arrived which means after two years or so of collecting I have them all!! Can’t wait to read them I’m so excited 😭 gonna have so many Suga pictures in my phone when I’m done fr fr
Also lined them all up on my long shelf to see them all in a nice row and it’s just. SO COOL. I’m so happy to have them all like omg 😭😭 I seriously can’t get over how cool this is to me
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when you can never forget… _(:3 」∠)_
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Alright Gremlins, what shall I work on:
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still randomly remembering that one time i attended the creator of Minecraft's annual house party even though i've never even played that video game lmao and after getting to watch Skrillex dj in such an intimate setting (surreal), we all hung out and he had like a harem of cute girls surrounding him on the couch, haha it seemed super platonic though and he was really respectful,,, literally he was so kind to me and everyone,, by far the nicest celeb i've ever met besides elijah wood.
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