not at all volleyball

anonymous asked:

Can I ask for a designation miracle one shot were the miracles (including hinata, if possible) have nightmares and their teams/boyfriends/gardiens are there to make them feel better?

Hinata doesn’t get nightmares all that often—he usually dreams about flying, or volleyball, or sometimes flying while playing volleyball—and when he does get nightmares, they’re usually just memories.


The first time he has a nightmare at the Hinatas, both Kousei and Sawako wake him up.

“Shou-chan, are you alright?”

And the nightmare disappears with their faces, and he can’t even remember what it is he’d been dreaming about. “Yeah,” he says.

“You were—distressed,” Kousei says. “Were you dreaming about—”

He doesn’t know how to finish that sentence and Hinata doesn’t either. “I can’t remember,” he says honestly.

They stay in his room that night, the both of them, and he sleeps very peacefully.


“Hey, Shouyou, Shouyou!”

Hinata jerks awake, only to have Nishinoya’s face right next to his, which causes him to flail some more. He’d shout but Nishinoya’s hand claps down over his mouth. “Were you having a nightmare? You were sorta whimpering.”

Hinata remembers dreaming about Room 101, and he feels like it can’t really be a nightmare, because nightmares are things that didn’t actually happen. They can’t be nightmares if they’re memories. Probably.  “No,” he says.

“Oh. Were you homesick? ‘Cuz that happens.”

“No! I’m not a baby!” Hinata says indignantly.

“It’s ‘sok,” Ennoshita says in the dark, and a hand pats his head. “I was homesick too my first time.”

“But I’m not!” he protests.

“Nothing to be ashamed about,” Nishinoya says, and he settles back into his own mat. “And if you’re dreaming about monsters, we’ll kick their butts.”

“I wasn’t,” Hinata sulks, but he falls back asleep to the sounds of Karasuno snoring and he doesn’t have any more dreams the rest of the camp.


After they start dating, it is not unusual for Hinata and Kageyama to spend the night at each other’s houses. Kageyama’s parents don’t seem to mind on grounds of it’s usually after practice and both boys are too exhausted to actually do anything and Hinata’s parents don’t seem to mind because they have a standing rule that Kageyama can absolutely sleep in Hinata’s room, so long as Natsu does too. (Natsu is a remarkably effective chaperone against indecent behavior).

“Hey, hey, Kageyama,” Hinata says, drowsily (because Kageyama’s parents are right—they’re usually way too tired to actually do anything).

“What, dumbass?” Kageyama grumps.

“Do I ever have nightmares?”


“Like, do I ever wake you up because of—noises?”

“There was that time you woke me up by hitting me on the head,” Kageyama says pointedly.

“Right, because I was spiking in my sleep,” Hinata says, “And then you tried to smother me with a pillow.”

“Which was justifiable,” Kageyama says. Hinata agrees but doesn’t say so—Kageyama had actually been remarkably understanding after the attempted smothering (dreams about volleyball being an acceptable sort of reason for hitting him on the head).

“No,” Kageyama says, and his arm around Hinata is warm and comforting and firm. “You always look really nice when you sleep.”

“Oh, OK.” Hinata nestles in, thinking that it can only mean good things if he doesn’t have nightmares around Kageyama, and then he blinks awake and says, “Wait, how often do you watch me sleep?”

“Shut up, dumbass, or I’ll smother you with a pillow again.”

A/N: Thanks for the prompt, anon-friend! As I have been saying A LOT lately (because I am making more of an effort to respond to the ones I’ve had forever) I am SO sorry for how long it has taken me to get to this prompt. My new policy was to only focus on one Miracle for requests regarding all the Miracles and since you specifically mentioned Hinata, I focused on Hinata. Thanks again and sorry it’s been forever!!!

Also posting this one as a belated, “Happy Birthday, Hinata!”

I am no longer accepting new prompts.

anonymous asked:

thigh discussion: have you seen hinatas? boy jumps so much his thighs are Nice


okay but honestly think for a second



w o r s h i p


we all know kageyama is a solid hunk of volleyball jock PLUS HINATA’S THIGHS the possibilities are endless

bokuto-joutarou  asked:




victor wouldn’t know that much about volleyball, just the basics, so during games he’d shout out all the wrong stuff and he’s also nekoma’s biggest fanboy

yuri’s first time to nekoma’s match and doesn’t know why he’s shouting out all these things when they’re at a volleyball game 

1 //

anonymous asked:

What do you think about an “i picked up your bag at the airport but i can’t find your number so i’m about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all time by using your strange belongings to track you down” au with charmer or nurseydex or zimbits or something??

Well, I don’t know if you expected three mini fics, and I didn’t fully follow the prompt, but here we are.

1. Charmer

Look, Chris knew it was dumb. He knew that everyone on earth had a plain black suitcase, he knew he should have double-checked the luggage tag, he knew it was important to be sure abut these things. But knowing what he should have done couldn’t help him when he finally got his suitcase home and opened it up to find mostly yoga pants and sundresses. 


He zipped the bag back up and flipped open the luggage tag. It was cute, pink with some metallic lettering saying “I’m outta here!” in a handwritten font. Chris blamed jetlag and the redeye flight for making him miss the fact that it wasn’t his Sharks tag. He blamed the bag’s owner for not filling out any of the information on the tag.


Well, sorry random girl, he thought. He opened the suitcase up again to try to see if he could find anything that would give him a clue as to who the suitcase owner was. He moved a makeup bag aside, and hit gold immediately. Well, Samwell red. A Women’s Volleyball tshirt– mystery suitcase girl had to be on the volleyball team.

“Hey Ransom!” he yelled. “You’re facebook friends with all the volleyball team right?”

“He’s friends with everyone on campus!” Holster yelled back.

“Ask their captain if anyone flew in from the Bay Area and lost their luggage!”


“Is Justin here? My captain said he’s got my suitcase.” Chris overheard her at the door. He grabbed the bag and started hauling it downstairs. As he set it down at the bottom and caught sight of the girl in the doorway, he froze. She was pretty. Like, really pretty. 

“Um, hi,” he said.

“So you’re Justin? Oh my god, I’m so glad it wasn’t some total rando who got my bag.” 

“I’m actually Chris, Justin was just the one who was friends with your captain. Um, I’m sorry, but I kind of had to look through your stuff? Your luggage tag wasn’t filled out.” The girl laughed.

“Yours wasn’t either! Me and my teammates were like one minute away from googling the record holder for most San Jose Sharks merch, but it totally makes sense that you’re on the hockey team.” 

“Since we both forgot to write our numbers down, maybe we should do that now?” Chris suggested. The girl grinned, grabbed his phone out of his hand, and opened up a new contact. She punched in a number, and when she handed it back he saw a text of several random emojis addressed to the new contact of “Caitlin Farmer” with a girl farmer emoji and a volleyball emoji.

“Text me sometime, and maybe we can get dinner?” she said, and she was gone with her suitcase. 

Chris collapsed on the couch, a dreamy look in his eyes.

“Chowder? You get your suitcase back?” Bitty called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah! and I think I’m in love now!”

2. Nurseydex

“Cheryl, I’m telling you, I had a ton of inspiration on the plane and I wrote some great stuff for act three. No. No, it wasn’t just me thinking it’s great because I popped some melatonin and got really sleepy. It’s like, legit. Yeah, I’ll send it over as soon as I get home and–”

Derek slammed into something. If he’d been holding his phone in his hand (bluetooth is a blessing when you drop stuff easily) it would have launched across the airport. As it was, his post-flight latte was soaking through the nice white shirt of the handsome stranger in front of him.

“Shit,” the stranger said, looking down to survey the damage.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have trusted myself to make a phone call and not be clumsy after such a long flight,” Derek said. He set his briefcase down and pulled a wad of napkins out of the outside pocket. The guy took a deep breath, going from murderous to calm in a few seconds. 

“I wasn’t looking where I was going either, it’s not your fault,” the guy said, setting down his own briefcase and accepting the napkins. He blotted at his shirt.

“Let me pay for the dry cleaning. Or a replacement,” Derek offered. The man shook his head.

“It’s fine, it probably needed to go to the cleaners anyways.” He checked his watch. “If I run, I can probably get a new one before my meeting.” He wadded the napkins into one big ball, picked up his briefcase, and walked towards the exit with a terse nod. Derek, feeling terrible about the whole thing, picked up his own briefcase and walked to baggage claim.

By the time he was reunited with his home office, a cozy bookshelf-lined room in his brownstone, he had almost forgotten about the coffee incident. He was focused on sending the manuscript to Cheryl. Unfortunately, that was going to be difficult, considering he pulled a PC laptop out of the bag instead of his Mac.

Derek stared at the computer for a full minute. He almost couldn’t believe that this was happening to him. Hesitantly, he opened the laptop. On one side of the keyboard there was a weird thing that a few seconds of phone googling told him was a fingerprint scanner. Shit. He hit the space bar experimentally. Something flashed on the screen, and then was replaced with just a plain black screen with red text: ACCESS DENIED

Derek swore. He started to look through the rest of what was in the briefcase, but was disappointed to find it empty except for the laptop’s charger, three packs of gum, and receipts from a lobster shack in Maine. Shit. Nothing in here would tell him anything about the redhead he’d launched a latte at. 

He closed the laptop dejectedly, ignored his editor’s text messages, and went into the kitchen to make himself lunch and feel sorry for himself. This was the universe punishing him for covering a cute guy with coffee. If he had just kept his focus and waited to call his editor later, he could have sent the draft along and saved it and not be desperately trying to remember his inspiration.

Just as the self-pity spiral was really taking off, the doorbell rang. Derek sighed, put down his tea, and walked to the door. When he opened it, it wasn’t Girl Scouts or Jehovah’s Witnesses, but the guy from the airport.

“Cancel whatever you’re doing today, I need to teach you the most basic principles of digital security,” the guy said, pushing past Derek into the dining room. He shoved a stack of papers onto a chair and pulled Derek’s laptop out.

“I’m Will, by the way, I make software that’s hopefully a step ahead of viruses.”

“Is the draft still there?”

“The draft of what?” The guy looked confused.

“My third act breakthrough. I’m a novelist, I need to get it to my editor and I couldn’t remember if I saved it,” Derek explained.

“You know you can set up an auto-save every five minutes or so, right?” Will asked.

“This might be surprising to you, but I’ve never had a cute guy storm into my house and yell at me about computers before.” Will looked up from Derek’s computer, blushing.

“I haven’t had a cute guy dump a gallon of coffee all over me and steal my laptop before, either, but here we are.”

“Maybe you can yell about computers over lunch with me?”

3. Zimbits

Button downs. Tank tops. Slacks. Shorts. Three rolling pins. A pie tin. A half-emptied multipack of sharpies.

No lucky puck. No clothes in his size. No jerseys.

Jack sighed. It would just be too much to ask for anything to go well today. He picked up his phone to call someone with the Falconers, in the hope that they could talk to the airline and sort all this out. At the same time, his phone lit up with Tater’s face.

“Zimmboni! Look on twitter. Small internet baker has your suitcase!” Tater hung up before he could reply, so Jack just opened twitter instead. 

omgcheckplease: A bunch of pucks, some dirty jerseys, and a history textbook. Either I’m back in college or this isn’t my suitcase.

omgcheckplease: .@falcsofficial please tell your #1 player to DM me and come get his shit

omgcheckplease: and @falcsofficial tell him to give me my shit back. my hockey days are in the past, I need rolling pins, not a mouthguard

Jack smiled and laughed in the way a person laughs when they’re alone, just blowing more air than normal out of his nose. He looked through the twitter for a minute– the guy, Eric Bittle, was a Providence-based chef, whose latest tweets were mostly greetings to the various cities he’d been visiting on tour. Jack clicked the media tab on the account, and looked through the pictures. Bittle was cute. He wrote a reply.

zimmboni: .@omgcheckplease how do I send u a DM

omgcheckplease: .@zimmboni you don’t deserve to be verified, oh my god #verifybittle2k17

A few seconds later another notification popped up, and he tapped it to be brought to a DM window.

omgcheckplease: hey! sorry about the mixup. I can only imagine how confused you were to find all my book tour stuff.

zimmboni: Probably as confused as you were finding hockey stuff?

omgcheckplease: I wasn’t joking in my tweets, I did play hockey before I got into the whole cookbook/food show thing

zimmboni: Exactly, I did a book tour last year in the off-season :-)

omgcheckplease: oh my gosh, isn’t it the best and the worst?

zimmboni: I know. It’s great to meet people and talk about your work, but it’s exhausting.

omgcheckplease: that’s why I’m so excited to be back in Providence! at least until the next cookbook.

zimmboni: Well we should probably meet up to trade suitcases. Want to meet somewhere for dinner?

omgcheckplease: don’t trust me to learn where your house is?

zimmboni: I mean, if dinner goes well enough…

omgcheckplease: OH. okay, then, Mr. Zimmermann, it’s a date.

Jack smiled to himself, and got ready for his date.


Hyper Projection Engeki Haikyuu - Winners and Losers

Several former cast mates went to go see the press viewing on opening day!  Visitors included Arai Shou (Aone), Kimura Atsushi (Futakuchi), Hirono Ryouta (Sakunami), Hashimoto Zen’itsu (Kamasaki), and Gotou Takeru (Yaku)!  

All of them were impressed by the new show and wish the current cast the best of luck!

Happy pride month ft A hobi in which The Sketch Was Cute But I Fucked It Up


I found out that “haikyuu all spikes” was a popular search term so I’m jumping on that now. Share this with people who have half an hour to waste.


❝Of course I like you.
You’re fun to be around.
You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re (very) cute.
You’re different. You’re crazy. You’re perfect in an imperfect way. You always speak your mind.
You have the best laugh.
Of course I like you.
You’re you.❞