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#hinata shouyou

🍘🍱Chef Application Results Out!🍛🍣

Chef applications have all been sent out, remember to check your inboxes! If you haven’t received an email, feel free to get in touch with us via DMs or email us at hqcookbook@gmail.com. 

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can haikyuu stans please, for the love of God, stop overly feminizing hinata just so it can fufill their norms of a heterosexual relationship??? 9/10 times, you ship Hinata with another male, making it a homosexual relationship , so why do you feel the need to force gender roles on him? It’s weird, and vaguely disturbing when you over do it.

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a/n: You know that post about how being weird together is a love language. It got stuck in my head and here we are. Hinata is so underappreciated but such a wonderful character, I love him with my whole heart, my babie 🥺🥺. Someone please tell me how to spell his name right lol. uhh even i can’t believe i wrote about loving worm hinata with such sincerity and made it into a fic. truly a terrible place, my mind. I don’t like my goofy writing as much as I like Amor Vincit Omnia but it’s not fun to write angst all the time 😜

warnings: just fluff! mild stupidity. 

✧・゚: *✧・゚:*                                                                                     *:・゚✧*:・゚✧

When you wake up, he’s talking to himself again. He does this everyday before you wake up, practicing what he’s going to say, somehow always derailing into guoh and wham and other various, explosion noises. Sometimes he makes weird faces at himself in the mirror and giggles like a child if it’s a particularly good day. And it is one, you can tell, because he’s in that light mood that only comes from waking up feeling just incredible, like you could take on the world. He does have the right to those days, occasionally, as one of Japan’s monsters, a volleyball legend, and the most amazing boyfriend in the world. You watch in adoration as he does a particularly ugly smile with his tongue hanging out and his nose scrunched up and wrinkles on his forehead, and suddenly you catch a glimpse of him the future, old and gray and still beautiful, and your heart stutters. You clear your throat to get over the weird clench in your chest. He turns and looks at you in shock, blushing with embarrassment. For a while, you two just stand in front of each other, staring, then you burst into laughter that doesn’t stop until you’re wheezing and clutching your ribs in pain. Looking at his crooked grin, you think, in wonderment, what a lovely thing it is, to be in love. It’s a warm day. The sun is shining outside your window. Life is beautiful and kind, even if only for this moment, and you’re struck by lightning bolts of happiness that don’t stop coming. Every day waking up to him and his faces is a miracle that you get to receive for the rest of eternity.

You finish your healthy breakfast of oatmeal and fruit, “because,” he insists, “Oikawa-san said I can’t be a good volleyball player if I don’t take care of my body,” and he makes you do it because he says, “I want you to be healthy too!” You just have to look at him before he breaks and admits that it’s also partially because he doesn’t want to do it alone. You start doing the dishes with the realization that oatmeal is surprisingly not terrible, and when Hinata isn’t looking, you give his back a fond smile. That’s another thing he’s introduced you to that you wouldn’t have tried on your own. You’re not aware of when you started singing, if what you’re doing can be called a song, but you suddenly realize he’s humming along with you, some ridiculous lyrics you made up on the spot about washing the dishes. He adds onto your lyrics, somehow rhyming soap with pope and scrub with bathtub, and blows lightly on the iridescent bubbles until they pop. When you finish, he reaches over with a towel to dry the dishes. 

Hinata’s endless energy doesn’t just manifest in his inability to keep still for more than a minute. His brain works at light speed, just not in the way you would expect. He can’t do complicated math, but his brain fires off incessant questions, ridiculous paradoxes, anything within the realm of imagination, and sometimes, beyond that. That is how you find him asking you, “Would you love me if I was a worm?” You don’t even have to blink to know the answer he wants, but you’re not going to give it to him. “No.” The little pout he makes unknowingly when you tease him is just too cute to give up. He throws himself over your lap. “Seriously?” He grumbles. “So much for unconditional love.” You twirl your fingers through his hair absentmindedly. “Why do you think I love you, Hinata?” He blinks. “I dunno. You like my face?” It’s such a Hinata answer to give you want to laugh, but doing so would break the flow of the conversation. “Because you’re you. I like all the things that make up you. I like the journey that made you who you are today. If you want me to tell you I’d love you with or without orange hair, or your height, or your smile, I will, because I do. But unlike having teeth or not, being a worm would change a fundamental part of you, and I wouldn’t love Hinata-worm, because I love Hinata.” He blinks again. “That’s really sweet. Um.” He’s very clearly trying to wrap his head around what you said, and suddenly you feel embarrassed. “Wait, ignore what I just said. You probably didn’t mean for me to take it so seriously.” Did you really just answer a question about loving Hinata if he was a worm with so much effort? He reaches up and tugs the hand in his hair down so he can press his lips against your knuckles. “No,” he says, “I’m not going to forget it. I like that you thought so much about it.” He beams. “You said you love me.”

“We’re dating.” Your voice is deadpan but your heart soars. It feels light with the intimacy of sharing yourself, even the parts of you that are perhaps weird, strange, and unpalatable, with someone who loves you enough to ignore it all, or love you even because of it. In the space between you two, there is no room for judgement, only more small miracles that grow with each day, more seasons dedicated to falling in love, more chances to ask strange questions and get thoughtful answers.  

✧・゚: *✧・゚:*                                                                                     *:・゚✧*:・゚✧

Lili’s Comments: I am in SUCH a baking mood,,, i have made cookies and brownies and am getting ready to make cupcakes also sitting cross legged with ur laptop on your lap is a diff level of cosy..the way all of my comments are just brain dumps 

I wonder what I should put in my about me,,, if u have ideas send them in

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