a crush

Where is his kiss, huh???

setter sketches

Grilled Cheese - Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

for @shoulmate

Eyes closed, stretched out on the Couch, you take the first deep breath of the day.

Today has been a special kind of hell, one that started with a headache in the morning, coffee spilled on your favorite shirt, and a missed breakfast over having to change again.

You're never fond of rushing through things, and maybe that's just a lack of skill, but having to race through a store, trying to gather all the things you need in the shortest time possible, hasn't made your day better.

A key turns in the door.

You half expect Hajime to call out for you, but he stays quiet, slipping off his shoes at the Genkan and padding through the living space and into the kitchen.

Maybe he thinks you're napping. It wouldn't be the first time you completely slept through him coming home after work.

You wonder what it looks like. The basket with the clean laundry sits by your feet, a half-drunk bottle of your favorite drink on the table to your right. With every other man, scratch that, person, you'd probably feel ashamed.

Of the mess. Of your inability to handle it.

But this is Hajime. He's probably just trying not to wake you, thinking up ways to take the laundry off your hands as well.

As if he's not already doing the cooking and the cleaning anyway.

The fridge opens and closes. You don't hear the telltale fizz of his sports drinks. Instead, plastic crinkles.

A knife scratches over bread, the stove comes to life with the distinct click you know so well.

You've got half a mind to get up and check in on him. Is he cooking something? It sounds like that, but what could it be?

You blink lazily through half-closed eyes. You can barely make him out from here, just a sliver of his shoulder and the back of his head. It's a pretty head, you think, not for the first time.

The sounds of him, moving, breathing, existing, calm you down. Hajime is here. The knowledge of it, of his soothing presence, is enough.

You close your eyes again, feel the exhaustion nip at your heels.

"Here," soft lips brush your temple. "Eat."

"Wh?" You ask, groggy from the quick nap.

Hajime's lips quirk into a smile pressed to your skin.

"I made you a grilled cheese."

"Why?"

"Because you looked like you needed it."

"That's so-" You feel tears well up, but he wipes them away, pulling you in.

"Come on," he urges you quietly, "Sit up. You can't eat like that."

"I can sit at the table."

"Nah," he chuckles low. "It's comfier that way. Now open your mouth-"

And with everyone else, you'd be ashamed.

There's still the laundry that needs to be folded, your drink on the table, forgotten.

But this is Hajime. He promised to love you, in sickness and in health. And in the messiness in between as well.

Been seeing a lot of interesting conversations over on Twitter about how class difference is portrayed in Haikyuu, and in contrast, it made me think about those shit ass "hinata would have grown more in another school" tik tok takes and why they make me so mad.

Like no shit, Sherlock, ANYONE would be able to thrive more in a richer school, with a properly funded volleyball club and everthying that comes with it. Schools like Shiratorizawa, Fukurodani, Inarizaki and etc. that are regulars at Nationals.

And that's the whole point of the story. I'm Hinata Shouyou from the concrete. Karasuno is literally portrayed as a garbage dump. Before Takeda takes over and convinces Ukai to coach the team, the vb club was literally in shambles

(And even before, during the glory days of Old Ukai, it seems like the school still didn't make a heavy investment in the club)

Anyway, Karasuno isn't a rich, renowned school. It isn't the best school. It doesn't have the best coaches or a bus or a whole ass cheer squad. And yet it's exactly the school Hinata wanted. He was willing to bike half an hour over a mountain, back and forth, every single day just to be able to attend it.

THE WHOLE POINT is that he still managed to climb his way up to the top despite not having a strong base and not being able to attend one of the best schools in the country. He who would climb the ladder must begin at the bottom. The whole point is that Karasuno- the team as a whole- managed to claw their way to Nationals despite everything.

(Also, I've seen people call Ukai a bad coach, and let me just say: WASH YOUR MOUTH. Ukai is an overworked likely underpaid 20 something dude who probably doesn't have a degree in any sort of teaching position. He agrees to coach the vb team despite having a store to run and helping out at his family's farm. This man is flying by the seat of his pants, working solely with his intuition and the knowledge he gained from watching his grandfather coach - which was almost TEN YEARS ago. The fact that he managed to take the boys to Nationals and get them as far as he did despite being inexperienced actually says a lot about Ukai's intelligence and potential.)

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⭑.ᐟ — bf texts with iwaizumi PART TWO / part one

Memory vs Reference

Kagehina coded

hinata and friends!!!

Whats this quarterpounder with cheese doing in my pocket

— cried like a baby (coming home from the bar

a/n: the next part of my drunk!Sakusa miniseries :) although most of the series is isolated drabbles, this is a semi-part 2 of the first one (though there may be minor discrepancies bc I didn't originally intend for it to be a direct continuation). I hope you all like it!

-> this fic is part of the @ficsforgaza initiative and is partially sponsored by @strawberrystepmom <3 sorry for the wait and thank you for your donation! Info on the next wip I'm hoping to get sponsored is here.

Sakusa Kiyoomi doesn't know what's wrong with him.

You've been near him all night, dizzyingly within reach and yet, Sakusa knows it is not his place to reach out. You're wearing that perfume—the one he gave you one Christmas years ago, at a time when everything was better and he didn't have conflicting feelings about you.

God, he hates feelings.

Akaashi got officially an onigiri miya cap! 🍙

yamastretchi