#iwaizumi is hot

[taxkha]

Happy to report that 1) I'm still in love with Iwaizumi and 2) I can still draw him from memory

[vellichorsmystique]

The Little Things

⭒ kuroo testsurou, oikawa toru, bokuto kotaro, iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader (all seperate)

⭒ w.c. ~2.1k

⭒ Drabble set that I'm reposting from my old and deleted blog, it's mostly the same I only did some minimal editing at some parts. Established relationships for all of these. Hurt/comfort for a couple but we're mainly focusing on the comfort aspect. Genuinely most of this is like domestic fluff

⭒ No use of y/n...implied spoilers for the time skip in Bokuto's part, Iwaizumi's part takes place during the time skip as well however any concrete details are left to be ambiguous so no spoilers are actually mentioned for him.

⭒ In a world built upon the convenience of communication, and where the testament of love can be waxed poetically with a wide array of synonyms; sometimes you find that it's the actions that speak much louder than the words ever could. Aka it's the little things they do for you.

Kuroo:

It happens when you're sick, muscles and limbs sore, throat raw from sinuses, and a desolate feeling seemingly carved from within your chest. Just sleep it off and skip school for the day is the brilliant plan your ailed brain could conjure at the moment, so you do just that. It’s not like you’ll miss anything important right? 

Wrong- waking up to the sporadic texts from Kuroo, while usually a good thing, instead left your palms slick and mind running wild. Afterall the chemistry class you two shared together had an important lab done today, and it would be featured in your upcoming unit test. Raising the pads of your fingers to your forehead you began to massage your temple, wincing at the oncoming headache. Lamenting over your decision of whether you should email your overworked teacher or just go back to sleep. You find that your pondering is interrupted by the front door slamming open. 

Revealing none other than Testurou himself. His usual insufferable smirk is plastered across his visage, and he seems to be exuding a lackadaisical continence. While giddy you still roll your eyes as he saunters in, and that's when you notice the few bags in his grasp. Before you can even question he’s already setting the contents out, a college ruled spiral notebook is being pushed towards you, and when you open it to the recent notes his usual chicken scratch is actually legible. 

Looking back up you're greeted by the sight of a couple empty glass beakers, some vials of different chemicals, and wait… is that a bunsen burner? Eyes blown wide you look up at Kuroo, downed in a haphazardly placed set of lab goggles, arms crossed across his chest, and a beaming smile revealing pearly whites. 

“Did… Did you steal lab equipment from our teacher?” while a rasp it still leaves your mouth an octave higher than your usual voice. All he does is laugh at your stupefied expression. 

“I wouldn’t call it stealing, more along the lines of borrowing, besides I'm sure she won’t mind…” he trails off, but that stupid smirk is back on his face, and you begrudgingly decide it would not be smart to kiss him– afterall you were sick. So instead you sit up and lean forward, eyes squinted and a mumbled ‘you're an idiot’ leaves your lips. And Kuroo, well all Kuroo does is laugh at the statement, eyes glimmering, and grin stretching impossibly wider, because yeah he may be an idiot, but he’s your idiot.

Oikawa: 

You're on the edge of this mental precipice, eyes zeroed in on the red ink, the bold lettering taunting your very intelligence. You…you failed? How, you had studied so hard though? Hunched over text after text, eyes blurring from the onslaught of study material. But you had pushed through, you were determined that you were going to pass. All that effort was for naught. Snagging your bottom lip between your teeth, you begin to blink slowly as a way to staunch any pesky tears. Breathing deeply you straighten your back into an attentive position, pointedly ignoring the chocolate brown eyes staring at you with concern.  

Of course Oikawa was always too attentive for his own good though, after all one sly glance towards the paper you shielded with your arms and he could see a sliver of red scrawling. So putting two and two together he figures it out. Words would not suffice his point and thinking quickly he settled for his speciality.

 Annoyance Physical affection. As soon as the teacher had looked away he all but melted against you, a heavy sigh, and half lidded eyes pointed in your direction. 

“Toru, get off of me,” it’s a whispered threat as you try to shove him off, yet he just won't budge. As if to pester you further he turns his face towards your cheek, tip of his nose ghosting the flesh, and puffing out his own cheeks he forms an ‘o’ with his mouth and blows. Reactivity you nail him with your elbow, and although he winces he remains undeterred as he nudges your cheek with his nose. Flyaway strands of brown colored hair tickle your own skin, and from your peripheral you can see the goofy expression that Oikawa had fixed onto his face. You can not help but let out a small stream of giggles, and remarkably enough the bad grade isn’t weighing so heavily on your psyche. 

Oikawa finally removes his weight off of you, right before the teacher notices, but he still stares at you. Eyes slightly squinted, lips upturned into a soft smile, and body tilted towards you. While he was successful in his endeavors of cheering you up, that doesn't necessarily mean you’ll not be plagued by it later. So he formulated yet another plan. 

And when you get home to your apartment, only to be greeted with Oikawa in your kitchen, a serving of your comfort food on an outstretched plate, and him dawned in a regifted frilly apron from Iwaizumi (it used to say ‘Best Wing Spiker” but the words wing spiker were now crossed out, and instead placed above it was the word “Setter” in loopy strokes). Well that's only something you and him would need to know. 

Bokuto:

It’s too bright. It’s too loud. It’s too, too much. Nausea rolled around heavily in your gut. All while blinding pain racked across your entire temple. The glaring stadium lights also did not help with your situation, spots of your own sight conjured flashes and random blurbs of black to settle over your vision. You really didn’t want to come to this game… but a promise was a promise. You can practically feel the pitying gazes of the patrons surrounding you, their minds probably chastising you for not leaving yet. But you wouldn’t, dawned in a black jersey with the number “12” printed on it in a bold font, reminded and added to your resolve to stay.

Risking a furtive glance in the direction of the scorekeeper, you thanked every higher power out there that the game had ended. However you quickly took it all back at the resounding buzz that signified the end, leaving you breathless and dizzy. The Jakles won and for that you were happy, after all that would mean the man you came here for would be exhilarated at the results. As much as you wanted to run over to Bokuto, lightheadedness tugged at your lead like limbs, and now your neck was starting to hurt. Plus the unbearable staccato pounding on both sides of your temple wouldn’t let you focus well. So you stayed behind, shoulders hunched, hands desperately trying to magically massage away the pain, all while moisture began building in the corners of your eyes.. 

Time seems to pass agonizingly slow in the monumental stadium, and all you can do is sniffle and wither at the sound of your own quiet whimpers. You aren’t aware of the presence in front of you, at least not until they press their index finger on your arm right below the sleeve of the borrowed jersey. A rhythmic tapping leaving a comforting warmth to convalesce around you. It’s a fleeting touch, and oh, so ever gentle. That momentarily your sniffles pause, and when you finally crane your head up you find yourself locked eyes with golden ones. Although your everything hurts, and though the lights may be too bright, and the sounds may still be too loud you can’t help the giddy smile that stretches across tear stained cheeks. 

“Hi Ko,” the breathless rasp leaves you almost instantaneously, and he hums in response, head dipping in action and streaked hair swaying in sync. For a moment you feel touched after all you knew he would be so giddy and excited to share the thrill that he felt in the form of grandiose gestures and onomatopoeias, but he noticed what you're going through and he’s trying to mitigate it. Gently he encircles his arms around your shoulders, pulling you from your upright fetal-esque position, and the two of you (him basically carrying you) head out of the building. He had said his goodbyes to his fellow teammates already considering you two had just breezed past them to get to the exit. 

And when you two get home, he’s already flipping off the lights, guiding you into a comfortable position on the duvet sheets of your shared bed. When he comes back his hands hold a heat compress (as well as a cold one) and some random soda that had been sitting in your refrigerator. He passes you a Tylenol as well, and you take a sip of the drink. The dark complimented by the blissful silence blankets you and you can feel the migraine recede into baby thumps. Nothing too painful for you to manage. In the dark, you fumble around until your palm finds a warm one near you, grasping it you can practically picture the childish grin he’s wearing. Instead of voicing out your thanks, you instead scooch forward, sitting up right in front of Bokuto you lean your head against his shoulder, hand squeezing his own tighter. And he hums happily in response, chest moving as he lets out the sound. Whatever you need he’ll do it, gestures and all.

Iwaizumi:

When Iwaizumi enters the house, at a time where the stars are high and dancing in the sky, he notices your slouched form on the couch. Laptop toppling dangerously close to the edge of your lap, neck rested uncomfortably on the arm of the couch, and the lights off- minus the tv which had some random cartoon sending flashes of vividly tinted light splashing the room. 

Soft snores spill from your lips, and all he can do is sigh, heavy footfalls nearing your slumbering figure. Warm hands save the laptop from falling off its precarious position in your lap, should you fidget any longer, and he can only squint at the brightness. Of course, falling asleep while working on an assignment…how in character for you. Placing the item down on the coffee table he gradually rises back up, hands resting against his hips as he forms some type of plan. 

A thin line of drool had dribbled across your cheek, and some hair was messily swiped in front of your face, so you seemed to be deep asleep. Hypothetically speaking he could just leave you there- but one more glance at your uncomfortable position makes him wince. So he reaches down grasping at the beaten remote, (months of falling off of various heights has led to its predicament of duck tape keeping it together) before finally clicking the button to promptly shut off the tv. Now bathed in darkness he gathers up the near forgotten laptop, as well as your barely alive phone, the battery symbol showcasing the color red. So he plunders forward, past the empty kitchen the smell of whatever you had cooked to satiate yourself lingering gently in the air, past the hallway filled with different portraits of you and him(as well as his former Seijoh teammates), until finally entering the threshold of your shared room. 

There’s a soft light spilling from the mess that is your desk, probably some random desk lamp you had said you needed when you already had others. But it’s not like he could resist your carefully calculated pouts, so you still ended up getting it anyway. Placing the laptop down softly in a clear spot on your desk, he connected the lonesome charger to its port. Before plugging up your phone as well on the bed side table. 

In his momentary absence, he notes, you had somehow moved from your position on the couch- into haphazardly dangling off the arm of it. Unable to hold back the exasperated snort that leaves his mouth, he finally reaches under you, hefting you up in his hold. A tense silence freezes him from walking when you let out a sudden exhale, but the sigh that leaves you soon after, makes him step forward. 

When he finally gets you both situated in bed he doesn’t expect you to subconsciously wiggle closer towards him, nor does he expect the whispered sigh of his first name to leave your lips. So when he finally goes to sleep, he goes to sleep with a flushed face and you tucked in his chest, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

⭒ end notes: GUYS HAIKYUU IS SO BACK RAHHHHH. Anyways this drabble set was wrote in 2022 (yikes) but I figured what better way to soft launch the fact that I've fallen in the vices of Haikyuu then by posting it on this account. I have another haikyuu piece in the works, but if you all are interested in a part two of this let me know! I quite like this concept of loosely connected vignettes :))

[seiwas]

for writing game, iwaizumi + assistance <3

hope this sparks some inspo and thank you in advancee

hi there!! thanks for sending in a prompt 🫶

contains: friends to lovers (ish), halloween parties, reader is dressed as catwoman, expletives, iwaizumi is thiiiiis 🤏 close to murdering seijoh4 (jk)

iwaizumi + assistance

this is a set-up.

iwaizumi knows he shouldn't have fucking believed anything the boys "promised" him back when they assigned him this costume.

the suit is fucking tight, spandex digging into his groins and all other crevices that definitely should be aired out after after a few hours. he's had to constantly readjust his stance almost every few minutes, the black fabric compressing his thighs and torso, significantly constricting the range of motion his shoulders and arms are typically used to. if anything else, it could double up as a back brace from how rigidly straight it's kept his posture all night.

he'll give it to makki though; he did outdo himself sourcing this year's costumes―this batman set looks pretty damn legit.

except for one tiny problem.

there's no fucking pee hole. it's a zip-up, zip-down one-piece situation. and that normally wouldn't be a problem, except that oikawa "accidentally" knocked over a cocktail straight into his pants, the sickeningly sweet liquid now seeping straight into the fabric and past his boxers―cold and sticky as it touches his skin.

and so, the problem: his pants are wet, it makes him want to fucking pee, and coincidentally, the only vacant bathroom is across the hall, at your apartment.

this is why he believes this is a set up. that, and the fact that you're dressed in an outfit strikingly similar―just with cat ears.

he's been asked five times in this party if you're in matching couple outfits.

it catches him off guard, flusters him because of how badly he wants to say yes. but, you're just friends, and he doesn't even think you like him that way (despite mattsun and oikawa practically begging him to confess. makki tells him he thinks you're going to do it first).

so he politely smiles and says no, but you look good, your costume clinging to you in all the right places. thank fucking god he has a cape because he's pretty sure he spent the first 30 minutes in the party hiding his boner.

"hajime, it's fine, i swear," you stand beside him in front of the conveniently locked bathroom in oikawa's apartment. from the other side of the door, he's pretty sure he hears mattsun and his girlfriend mumbling. maybe fucking? who knows. "you can just use the bathroom in my apartment."

he glances at you before closing his eyes, contemplating, before finally agreeing to you.

"okay."

if he's being honest with himself, friends is definitely an incomplete label to what you are. as oikawa's neighbor, you are conveniently around all the time; and oikawa being oikawa, the ever-social butterfly, he's somehow managed to carve a space for you in the friend group.

(never mind the fact that oikawa's sniffed him out from the moment he first introduced you.)

you were a crush, then a friend, and now you're someone he picks up from work and drives back home three times a week, because he "has to train oikawa." you don't question it, even when you both know he stays over for dinner way past the gym's open hours.

"you know where it is," you open your apartment and urge him in.

"sorry again," he turns to face you.

"yeah, yeah, just pee!" you laugh, shoving him towards the bathroom door.

getting out of the suit is manageable, and he's able to wipe off a bit of the cocktail that's leaked to the suit and his boxers just to make sure it isn't gross and sticky when he gets home later. peeing is a big relief once he gets it over with, but it's when he has to suit up again that things become difficult.

stretching out the spandex one body part at a time is a workout in itself―the hardest task being when he has to pull it over his shoulders, adjusting it to fit properly over his arms and chest.

but then the zipper breaks.

and he truly thinks makki has fucked him over.

iwaizumi contemplates what to do next for a good, good while. he tries calling oikawa, only to no success every time; no way in hell is he calling mattsun in the middle of having sex. and calling makki isn't even an option; he'd never hear the end of it.

then you knock on the door, your voice soft and concerned as you ask, "hajime? you good in there?" you hit it spot on, too, "do you need help with your suit?"

iwaizumi presses his palms to his eyes. he's a rational man, straightforward and logical in thinking. there is literally no other option for him right now but to ask help from you. again.

fuck.

.

it's 30 minutes later when oikawa barges in your door, and the sight that greets him is iwaizumi in nothing but a hoodie (the hoodie you borrowed some time ago) and his boxers, with his hands on your waist as you hover your hairdryer over the crotch of his batman costume―cat headpiece off and all.

"you finally got together?!"

[waterbendingwaves]

haikyuu 🤝 chappell roan

[hokkyokuro]

Girldad IwaOi

Iwaizumu and Oikawa girldads!!! And Half-Filipino Iwaizumiiiii

[maybe-a-dinosaur]

so oikawa tooru has a light complexion and dark brown hair like cool toned lots of contrast But. at the beginning of every summer he goes to his grandparents house by the coast for a couple weeks and he comes back fucking golden.

he spends DAYS outside his hair lightens in the sun it becomes almost a honey brown and he tans tans tans. sunkissed is too weak a term in the summer oikawa is Bronzed he’s warm toned he’s brown hair and brown eyes and tan skin he’s amber and tiger-eye and jasper he’s inlaid with gold. the tips of his hair are almost blond hajime thinks if he spends any more time in the sun he’ll turn into it. he’s losing his mind btw.

tooru is always pretty everyone know this but summertime tooru is fucking unbearable hajime can’t look at him for too long or he’ll get sunburn. he’s so goddamn pale the rest of the year he should burn red and pink he should look like a tomato so hajime can make fun of him but no. no why would he be anything but gorgeous in the summertime he’s fucking gilded. he’s all the same palette it’s like his artist painted him from a single color he’s honeyed and caramelized and warm warm brown and its probably heatstroke but iwaizumi hajime could maybe possibly be in love.

[artisticxlly]

beefy men and their grabby boyfriends <3

[nyxwanderland]

♡ boyfriend iwaizumi hajime

pairing → iwaizumi hajime x reader genre → fluffwarnings → none word count → 611

• boyfriend iwaizumi is usually rough and blunt in his actions and words, but he tries to be as gentle as possible if it's you. • you don't mind because you know he's trying to be better and you appreciate him his efforts.

• boyfriend iwaizumi loves doing skin care with you. • he is going to complain the entire time, like "ah shit, it's too cold." or "how long will it take for this to dry?" and also "don't peel it off! it hurts!!" • but he will certainly join you for another session again.

• boyfriend iwaizumi sends you memes at any time of the day, whether it be in the morning before leaving for work or at 2:30 am. • "this you lol." • and you HAVE to send another one back to match his energy.

• boyfriend iwaizumi crashes at your apartment whenever he has an exhausting day and doesn't feel like driving to his place. • one reason may be that his workplace is closer to yours than it is to his. • but you surely know that the main reason is your company and the meals that you feed him yourself. • he sometimes stays the night as he demands your cuddles and featherlight strokes on his back before going to sleep.

• boyfriend iwaizumi wakes up way before you and just stares lovingly at your sleeping face, chuckling a bit as he wipes off the drool from your chin. • he takes some photos of you before you wake up from your slumber as well.

• boyfriend iwaizumi doesn't know how to cook, but he just watches you prepare breakfast for both of you in the kitchen, occasionally kissing your neck whenever you walk past him. • once, he tried to make breakfast while you were sleeping. • and... he burned the eggs. • you do teach him some basic recipes from time to time so that he doesn't starve himself to death when he's at his own place.

• boyfriend iwaizumi identifies as the 'sunshine protector' and his pronouns are protect/atallcosts. • not the oh-so-protective type; he knows you can take care of yourself and trusts you wholeheartedly. • the protective mode is on when he finds anyone looking at you with unholy intentions or harassing you. • he WILL punch the living hell out of the said person.

• boyfriend iwaizumi is used to getting his ass smacked by you every now and then. • he doesn't really understand why you're obsessed with his butt, although you try your best to explain to him that his ass is delicious you just can't help it. • you find yourself touching his biceps and chest as well. • "...you good, y/n?" "excuse me? it's not my fault you have insane body proportions."

• boyfriend iwaizumi is super touchy. • he just can't walk with you unless he's touching you. • your arms brushing past each other, holding hands, his arm around your waist or shoulders—he just has to keep touching you otherwise he won't function.

• boyfriend iwaizumi melts when you take the initiative to kiss him first. • it's usually the other way around, but when you suddenly kiss him out of the blue, his face turns as red as a cherry. • he may show annoyance, but of course he loves it so much. he just hates to admit it.

• boyfriend iwaizumi will leave everything behind just to tend to your needs if you're having a bad day. • he buys you your favourite snacks and other stuff to cheer you up. • he lets you cry on his shoulder; it doesn't matter if your tears or even your snot is ruining his shirt.

• boyfriend iwaizumi goes above and beyond just to see you smile. he loves you more than just to the moon and back.

[iwaoiness]

Iwaizumi, leaning against one of the barriers separating the stands from the rink, just a few meters away, smiles in amusement when a staff member stops Oikawa in front of the advertisement panel, where a group of eager journalists from various international sports outlets are waiting. Tooru hands over his water bottle after taking one last hurried sip and flashes them a bright, radiant smile before greeting them.

Then the round of questions begins, and Oikawa, with his hands behind his strong back and his tempting hips slightly tilted into his most comfortable stance, lets his tongue take the lead. He answers everything with charm and ease, drawing out a few collective laughs and subtly sidestepping the more personal questions so smoothly it's almost imperceptible. But the best part—the most amusing thing that will never cease to fascinate Iwaizumi no matter how many years go by—is the way Tooru switches between languages effortlessly, without the slightest hesitation.

When they speak to him in Spanish, Oikawa responds in nearly native Spanish, complete with his little filler words, that distinct "sh" sound, his melodic intonation, his voice a bit deeper. When they speak in English, Oikawa replies in smooth English, only tripping over the more complex words, slipping in some Californian slang, his voice a bit higher. When they speak in Portuguese (to many people's surprise), Oikawa answers in playful, cheerful Portuguese, a tone that matches his grin too well, leaning on his Spanish when he can’t find the right words, his voice soft. And when they switch to Japanese, Oikawa responds with a fluency that's one of a kind, his tone shifting into something that feels like coming home after months away, his tongue rejoicing in finally using those words from his native language that just don’t have the right weight in other tongues, his voice genuine.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, the session wraps up despite some mild protests from the journalists, and Oikawa bids them farewell with heartfelt gratitude. Hajime straightens up, never missing how Tooru looks for him with his eyes, how his slight pout melts into a sweet smile and a twinkle in his gaze when he finds him.

Damn it, he loves him so fucking much.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa jogs over, arms already outstretched to wrap around his neck in a warm hug, which Hajime quickly returns, his own arms finding their place around Tooru’s waist.

“Hey, babe. Good job today.” He places a soft kiss on Oikawa’s neck, near his jugular.

“Did you catch the whole interview?”

“Of course, mister it-was-a-very-intense-matcha.”

“That was just a slip-up, Iwa-chan! You’re so mean! Match and matcha sound really similar!” Oikawa protests childishly, lifting his face to pout at him under his messy bangs.

Iwaizumi grins playfully, pulling one hand away to reach into his pants pocket, where a ripe banana is sticking out. Oikawa’s eyes light up when Hajime hands it to him, and he snatches it immediately.

“I disagree, Iwa-chan is the best!” Oikawa self-corrects, practically moaning as he takes the first bite after peeling it with the hunger of a pro player who’s just played four hard-fought sets in the VNL quarterfinals.

Hajime rolls his eyes in amusement, watching him fondly, Oikawa’s voice still echoing in his mind like a mantra in four different languages: Go shitsumon arigatōgozaimasu, jitsuwa kono gēmude wa…", "No sentí que Matías estuviera en baja forma, solo que estaba boludeando demasiado en el primer set, de hecho…", "If I had to decide which set was more intense, I’d definitely say the second one—did you see that 6’7” opposite hitter who came in mid-set? And don’t even get me started on...", "O melhor momento sem dúvida foi quando chegou a vez do Lucar sacar, ele tentou um saque para cima e o idiota achou que tinha acertado a bola em um ângulo bom, mas ele bateu direto na cabeça dele. Ah, e também quando..."

“You know,” Hajime says, catching Oikawa’s attention as he chews, his right cheek bulging, “the way you speak so many languages and switch so easily is pretty hot.”

Just two seconds later, Iwaizumi regrets those words deeply when Tooru blinks at him, wide-eyed, before a mischievous smile spreads across his face, his eyes narrowing playfully. Hajime’s cheeks flush instantly because he knows that fucking smirk all too well, and damn the moment I opened my stupid mouth.

“Ara, ara, Hajime-chan! I didn’t know you had that kind of kink!”

“It’s not a kink,” Iwaizumi mutters through clenched teeth, glaring at him with burning cheeks.

“There’s no need to be so shy, my little big boy!” Oikawa widens his smile and tilts his head slightly, blinking in that way that makes Hajime’s pants feel suddenly tighter. “I can moan for you in four different languages when we’re in bed,” he assures, his voice low, gravelly, and damn tempting as he slowly bites off another piece of the banana, never once breaking eye contact with Iwaizumi, who feels his throat suddenly go dry.

And, oh.

Oh, shit. Merda. Kuso. Mierda.

...

maybe i'll post this on ao3 cuz its so so so funny

u can fine me on my ao3 and this is my carrd 🍉

[seiwas]

iwaizumi hajime the type to run to the store for you at some outrageous time like 2am—

—in nothing but his sweatpants, sleep shirt hastily thrown on. it’s thinned out from each wash and is way too faded to be worn out; there’s a hole or two somewhere on the sides. and his hair’s all messed up, sticking out every which way with a bit of sleep still in his eyes.

he’s yawning through the aisles, slides smacking against the store floor as he looks for what you need. self check-out is mechanical at this point, movements memorised.

when he comes back home—to bed, you’re sat up against the headrest, waiting. he drops the paper bag beside you and climbs under the covers, slinging an arm around you as he whispers in your ear, lazy and sleep-laden while his eyes fall shut, “need anything else?”

[glittter-gel]

kyōtani looks up to iwa partially because they are two of the only blasian kids in school

[astrowaffles]

Iwaoi pumpkin carving. Iwaizumi carves a cat. Oikawa carves the most grotesque, evil, haunting face ever, names him Stephen, and cries when it starts rotting

[satowooo]

do you ever just think about Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer? because i do.

[maybe-a-dinosaur]

matsuhana working at hot topic after school takahiro clocks in wearing bubblegum pink high top converse and spends the first hour of his shift refolding all the shirts because "everyone else does it wrong. he spends the rest of his time browsing the jewelry and decides everyday to get a different piercing but never goes through with it (he forgot). he redresses the mannequin in the window in ridiculous out of date clothes and steals phallic candy from the back and constantly makes up stories about customers to issei at the register. matsukawa comes in wearing all black and smudged eyeliner and black nail polish he's the hot topic poster child but really he lets his little sister practice on him and is too lazy to take it off. he stands at the register looking bored out of his mind and quips jokes at everyone that checks out much to hiro's amusement. he kills time looking through pins and patches and trying on sunglasses and stacking funko pop towers criminally high then winking at the security cameras he's a menace and making the most of it. they only ever works shifts together be they're a "package deal" and management doesn't give a shit be they're teenagers and making minimum wage. hajime comes in to visit sometimes but tooru won't step foot inside the store he doesn't want it to "rub off" or something like that he sits on a bench outside the storefront and burns holes in the glass with his eyes and he Loves when matsuhana bring him little alien trinkets but is too proud to admit it. i just think they're built for hot topic they would fuck it up embracing the awkward emo stage with sarcasm and open arms

[gothsuguru]

rereading haikyuu!! i forgot how much i wanted to marry kuroo + iwaizumi + ushijima + akaashi + coach ukai

[tadaxii-i]

Hajime would love Hitoka's mom