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I’ve been in the worst mood because I’ve been stuck on this MatsuHana fic I’ve been trying to write.

I literally kept hating it and rewriting it and wanting to throw my phone into the void.

But I think I *FINALLY* made it into a decent story. This fic, I swear. It felt like I completely forgot how to make words into coherent sentences.

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Listening to my tears ricochet and would like to ask that you consider: Hanamaki dies and Matsukawa has to bury him, while Hanamaki comes back as a ghost and has to watch Matsukawa grieve his death

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a matsuhana fic

Matsukawa Issei learned how to play the piano and compose music when he was still in elementary school. At the time he had thought it was fascinating and hard, but not something that really interested him too much.

It took up a lot of time and his parents wouldn’t let him go play with his friends until his daily practice was done, and only if it were done right. So he diligently practiced the scales and sheet music that his teacher gave him without much emotion or heart.

The music was played well, but one could tell that it was lacking something. It was lacking passion.

Matsukawa could easily read, write, and play music, but the emotion just wasn’t there. Try as he might to fake it - it just wouldn’t appear. It frustrated him. His parents finally let him discontinue his lessons in middle school after weeks of expressing his wishes to do so, but made sure to see to it that he practiced occasionally, so that his hard earned skill wouldn’t be lost.

So he took it upon himself to practice twice a week. An hour every Monday and Friday right after dinner.

That is until he found volleyball. Twice a week became twice a month, twice a month became one, and so on until he only played when he was procrastinating on his school work (which was often but he didn’t really practice - it was more of a tapping of some random melody he made up on the spot.)

Volleyball and school became the forefront of his mind and eventually playing the piano just became a distraction that only held his attention for only a couple of minutes. Volleyball was something that he was actually interested in. Something he was able to become passionate about.

Along the way he made friends, played against crazy strong opponents, won a lot of games and lost some, but most importantly, he fell in love. He fell in love and it ignited a small flame in chest where the grave of his musical ability laid untouched; burning the cobwebs away and shedding a small, warm glow on the sheet music of his heart.

Hanamaki Takahiro and Matsukawa Issei quicky became friends when they met during their first practice at Seijoh in their first year. They had immediately saw something of themselves in each other and clicked like a lock and key and were practically attached at the hip since. They were able to sit silently and enjoy each other’s company while also being able to joke around and play pranks, always knowing what mood the other was in and how to respond accordingly.

They fit together like missing puzzles pieces that were finally connected.

It wasn’t until their second year that Hanamaki had found out that Matsukawa played piano despite him being over at his house almost every weekend. The door to the piano room had always been locked and closed until the day Mattsun had left it slightly ajar when he had gone in to clean the baby grand prior to him arriving unannounced.

Hanamaki had found out when he had gotten bored of studying for his upcoming test and went to grab a snack from the kitchen when he noticed that the door was open. Being the curious person he was, he toed it to fully open and stepped in. He was greeted with an airy room that had a piano right smack in the center, and the faint smell of cleaning products.

The glossy black polish of it reflected the evening light that was filtering in through the window in distorted waves, music displayed on the small rack that was ready to be brought to life, and a small spread of booklets he could only assume were music were neatly stacked next to it.

A large grin had taken over his once neutral expression.

Soft, almost silent footsteps had alerted him that a second person had joined him to stand in the doorway. He didn’t have to turn to know who it was, he knew it was his friend.

Makki turned to him, “Do you know how to play it?”

Matsukawa looked at his best friend for a moment and slid his gaze to the instrument he had cleaned earlier. He shrugged and went over to take a seat on the bench. He stared at the glistening, ivory keys wondering how Hanamaki was going to react. Of course he didn’t really care but he just didn’t see how him being able to play would be something anyone would want to know.

“Kind of.”

He took in a deep breath and lifted his hands to the keys, feeling that small flame in his chest grow just a little bit brighter. He played a couple of scales to warm up, after all, he hadn’t played in a while and needed to jog his memory, and figure out what he was going to play. Matsukawa looked over at his friend and saw him waiting excitedly. He rolled his eyes and tapped out a few experimental sounds.

Then, without any warning, music erupted from his fingertips.

Hanamaki watched as Matsukawa’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration, lips set into a tight pout, and how his hands roamed the length of the keyboard, barely able to keep track of which keys had been pressed before they had moved to another another.

The music that came from his friend was…explosive. It was loud and fast but also exciting. It was fun and colorful. Hanamaki could have sworn he could see the story behind the notes his friend played, but not quite either. Like it was moments that followed a timeline that he could uniquely imagine and it would be different from how anyone else perceived it.

Melodies swirled and flowed together perfectly, swells and decrescendos carried the dramatics of the playful piece. It told a story of an instant connection; of exciting adventures that had already come to pass and more sure to be made. And just as suddenly as it had started the song came to an abrupt end with the last note ringing in the air. The final note had seemed to express that it was not the end–that the story didn’t end there.

He waited with a baited breath to see if any more of the story were to fly out of the instrument. He let out a breath in slight disappointment when there wasn’t.

Matsukawa lifted his hands from the keys and dropped them in his lap, fidgeting with his fingers as he expectantly looking at his friend for his thoughts about what he just created. The flame in his chest flickered, growing and shrinking in nervous anticipation.

The other boy blinked at him, trying to wrap his mind around what he had just heard and witnessed. He blinked once, twice, three times before letting out an impressed whistle.

“I thought you said that you could kind of play.”

“I haven’t played in a long time. I rarely come in here now.”

“Didn’t sound like it.”

Mattsun’s lips twitched up in the corners into a tiny grin. Maybe it was because it was the first time that he felt that spark. Something so profound that only Hanamaki was able to create it and force him into actually wanting to play and enjoy it. It was the story of their friendship, tinged with hope of becoming something more.

Maybe it was because he fell in love with his best friend, and maybe it was precisely because of that he started to understand what it meant to play with passion; to express himself in a way that words and playing a sport couldn’t. Falling in love with his best friend made him want to create movements after movements just for him, to tell him what words cannot.

So Matsukawa just looked at Hanamaki and motioned for him to next to him on the bench with a soft smile and a promise to teach him how to play. And when his best friend, the person be loved, sat impossibly yet familiarly close with an excited expression directed at him, watching him with his attention soley on him, that flame called passion filled his entire heart and warmed the rest of his being.

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Prompt list by Angsy_Cheez-it on Wattpad.

English isn’t my first language sorry if there are mistakes.

Warnings : Homophobia, homophobic language, assault, wound, concussion, unconsciousness, coma…

Day 20 : Concussion. (Matsukawa/Hanamaki)

Matsukawa and Hanamaki were the type of couple that everyone despised at least once a day, all flirty and affectionate. They gave each other pet names, held hands whenever they could, kissed at seven am in front of other students, stuff like that. Even their friends made disgusted noises every time they were around. So, it was not really a surprise when they started to hear a group of boys make fun of them in the middle of their walk in the park. It was not the first time and probably not the last that this happened to them. However, it made Takahiro uncomfortable since there were other people around them like families with kids and they were all looking at them curiously. Issei understood it quickly when his boyfriend’s hand squeezed his stronger, sweating slightly. He tried to cross Maki’s eyes but his companion averted his eyes, his face a bit flushed and sad.

- So, who’s doing the girl ? I bet it’s the pink-haired one.” one of the idiots that were following them shouted.

Mattsun came to a stop and turned around, his hand leaving his lover’s. The latter made a scared noise and tried to catch the brunette’s arm, but he shoved it off.

- What did you say ?

- Oh come on, man. He must be such a slut in bed, that’s why you’re with him no ? It’s kinda written on his forehead that he likes to suck dicks.”

Keep reading

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things i would like to see in matsuhana fics more often:

  • hugs. they’re tactile ok
    • leaning on each other man all the time. 
    • falling asleep with your head in his lap and he’s just gaming away or reading and he legit doesn’t notice until he calls your name and you don’t respond
  • reading manga. books are cool but damn tell me they aren’t into shonen tell me
  • procrastinating. work or school, i don’t care
  • flirting platonically (and then? go as creative as you want after this!). flirting platonically all the time dude. flirting with iwaziumi and oikawa and their juniors all the time dude
  • music. playlists. lots of music.
    • maybe some editing?? video editing, music editing??
    • tell me one of them plays the guitar. come on
  • tell me their volleyball backstory! what their relationship with it is
    • how long have they been playing? how did they start? why do they play? 
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I love reading fanfics, and I have so many bookmarked that I want to share. Hope you all enjoy and give these writers all the love. All of these are completed works, and they are a mixture of one shots and multi chaps.


where the night goes by bigspoonnoya (M)


When their bond loses the immediate context of volleyball, they’re left to consider why it’s still so vital and important.

Meeting again, by chance, six years later.

Somewhere to Belong by Esselle (E)


Once a year, all the villages that follow the way of the sun offer up one of their own to be taken to the sun god’s divine temple. Kageyama Tobio, an orphan and loner, never wanted to be chosen—and until the sun god appeared, no one ever wanted to choose him, either. All Tobio wants is to find a place he fits in. What he actually gets is another story entirely.

by this time next year by reeology (T)


“I got offers from two universities,” Kageyama announces, pointing at his chest with his thumb. “I’m going to play volleyball at Keio this spring.”

“You still have to pass an exam, even if it’s an easy one,” Takeda-sensei hurries to add, although he is beaming and bursting with pride at his fluffy little crow chick taking off to play volleyball at a university level.

“I’ll pass,” Kageyama says with the same kind of confidence he uses when he tells Hinata he’ll get the toss to him. He looks straight at Hinata, and Hinata jerks and turns red, wondering if maybe Kageyama knew he was daydreaming about something as stupid as the way Kageyama talks to him during a game. But then Kageyama just points at him and says, “You’d better get in, too.”

Hinata, stupid, naive, idiot that he is, grins wide and nods and says, “Yeah!”

He doesn’t know what he’s in for.

Not Alone by seconddaysea (E)


“I’ll visit you,” Hinata says. “So you’re not allowed to get lonely, you got it?” He turns so they’re facing each other, hands warm against Tobio’s back.
“I’m already lonely,” he replies quietly, and he presses his face against Hinata’s heart, squeezing his eyes shut, because if this is a dream he doesn’t want to wake up.

maps, from me to you by tothemoon (T)


This is a (non-chronological) account of the memories they make out of millimeters.


we can do better than that by spaceburgers (M)


Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn’t go as expected, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing after all. 

we shine like diamonds by whiitemists (T)


Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it’s dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn’t heard.

“You know Abe-kun from class?” they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they’re passing along a filthy secret. “I hear his older brother is… gay.”

here comes your man by newamsterdam (T)


Iwaizumi’s left his cell phone on the bench, and while Suga keeps his gaze away from Iwaizumi the phone lights up with a new message.

Iwa-chan, it reads, Have a good day today! Good luck! <3 <3 <3

Suga chokes. It’s hard to imagine anyone calling the scowling and fierce Doctor Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan.” But marriage probably comes with all sorts of liberties.

Mrs. Iwaizumi must be quite the doting wife, Suga thinks. Delivering hand-made bentos and sending along loving messages.

No one really knows much about the new surgical resident, Doctor Iwaizumi, other than the fact that he’s married. Suga’s determined to find out more, and make a friend of him in the process.            

just hear me out by loveclouds (T)     


To stimulate Japan’s low birthrates and take most of the guesswork out of dating, a beeper system was biologically developed in people’s wrists, an audible confirmation to show romantic compatibility.

Iwaizumi’s beeper has been going off for Oikawa since they’ve been kids. Oikawa’s has only ever been silent.

 Call Security! by DeathBelle  (T)    


Oikawa Tooru is attractive, charming, and irresistible.

He thinks so, anyway, until he meets the mall’s new security guard.

In which Oikawa has a crush, Iwaizumi has no interest, and a chain of shoplifting incidents brings them together.


(Don’t) Touch Me by DeathBelle (E)         


Akaashi has always had an aversion to human contact, but earlier in his life it had been bearable. It isn’t until his last year of high school that it becomes intolerable. By the time he enters college, any skin contact has the potential to send him spiraling into a breathtaking panic attack.

He reconnects with Bokuto in college, and he seems to be the only person with the ability to calm Akaashi down. He finds himself relying on his old captain more and more, especially when Bokuto deems himself Akaashi’s own personal guardian. Despite their connection, he can’t touch Bokuto, either; no matter how badly he’d like to.    

Upstairs by yoogiboobi (E)    


Bokuto first sees his neighbour at the supermarket, three days after he’s moved into his new place.


For about a second, a heartbeat, he’s met with a pair of dark, piercing eyes, with what is probably eyeliner, looking back at him. It really is just a split second before his hand knocks down three cereal boxes that hit him square in the head, effectively making him break eye contact and drop his groceries to the floor.

In which some of the first things Bokuto learns about his upstairs neighbour are the colour of his eyes and the sound of his moans.         

bang! now we’re even by Authoress (E)


Akaashi only has two rules when it comes to his profession. One, complete the job as swiftly and cleanly as possible. Two, never trust anyone who smells like blood.

Rule three is to shoot Owl Eyes in the face should he ever come across him, but Akaashi never tells anyone about that one.

Crisis Converted  by valiantarmor (E)    


Akaashi Keiji is just a normal cop with a penchant for getting himself into trouble, when quite suddenly he finds himself with a big promotion and a brand new partner.

But his habit of finding trouble hasn’t gone away – if anything, it’s only gotten worse. 

cracks in the pavement will lead you home by deusreks (M)    


Bokuto often thinks about Akaashi, especially when he’s running. It’s like his legs know where they’re supposed to take him. He grows into a habit of running a lot, just to keep that feeling going. Cracks and holes in the pavement aren’t fun to jump over if the final reward isn’t seeing Akaashi’s face.

An alternate universe with a little bit of magic and a lot of growing up.         


died in my dreams by MTrash (Makaria) (T)


If anyone asked Ushijima how it came to this, he wouldn’t be able to formulate a proper answer.

Ushijima likes his quiet, his order, and his solitude. That is, until a loud, talkative and a little chaotic cyber tech convinces him that that’s just plain boring.

while i nodded, nearly napping (suddenly there came a tapping) by pseudoanalytics (T)     


Of course if there was one thing that could be counted on, it was Ushijima’s blunt, total honesty. “Do you think Tendou is attracted to me?”

Reon froze. “T-Tendou?”


Tendou was notoriously hard to read, but Reon kind of figured that he wasn’t the type to be anything less than painfully overt with romantic affections.

“I… I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I think if Tendou was attracted to you, he would let you know,” Reon said. “I’d guess he just considers you his best friend.” He hoped his answer would satisfy whatever frenzy the guy had worked himself into so Reon could finally take advantage of his last precious hours of sleep.

But instead, Ushijima visibly deflated in front of him. “Yes. That’s what I thought too,” he said miserably.

Oh, Reon realized. Oh no…

Executive Excursion by DeathBelle (E)    


Tendou is fun, quirky, and interesting.

Ushijima is none of the above.

It’s no surprise that Ushijima is drawn to Tendou’s magnetic personality. What’s surprising is that Tendou seems to like Ushijima, too.

With a little support from his coworkers, Ushijima decides to take a chance and ask Tendou on a date. The results are better than expected.

fascinating facts about geckos by miracleboysatori (T)        


Ushijima Wakatoshi.

That’s the coach’s name. And he’s the new biology teacher on campus, so not only is he incredibly beautiful, he’s also smart as hell.

Tendou can tell he’s completely doomed.

Affection, and other Quantifiable Actions by badbavarois (T)   


(He’s a monster)
Ushijima Wakatoshi isn’t a monster.  

Misc/ Other ships

but not for spring to well up by tookumade (TOsaSuna 


After ending a relationship with a fiancé, Suna returns home and tries to heal from heartbreak. Here, he finds friends in the form of the Miya brothers, and learns patience, forgiveness, and what happiness means to him.           

the more things change by deadseasalt (EOiKage   


“So let me get this straight. You went to the Meiji-Chuo game and saw your old crush and after watching Meiji bring Chuo to a crushing defeat, you realized you were still crushing on him big time?”

Kageyama wishes he could spit in Tsukishima’s drink. “It’s not a crush.”

Tsukishima laughs. “You poor dumb fuck.”

Third Impression by DeathBelle (E) Kuroo x Semi


If Semi has a type, Kuroo isn’t it.

After their first meeting, Semi concludes that Kuroo is smug, presumptuous, and a little too flirtatious for his own good. Their second encounter doesn’t change his mind, and Semi does his best to avoid a third.

Kuroo has other ideas, and Semi finds himself tricked into an impromptu tutoring session with Kuroo himself.

It doesn’t go as badly as Semi expects.

Mannequin Men by surveycorpsjean  (E) BokuAkaKuroTsukki


The modeling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

Efflorescence by h_lovely (E) MatsuHana


“Are we flirting?”  
“Do you want to be?”

[Efflorescence (n.) a state of blooming, flowering, and development.]

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come trick-or-treat in my inbox requesting ficcies and I’ll either treat you to some fluff or humor or trick you with a horribly twisted sad AU  (I’ll use a random generator to pick trick or treat)

send me “trick or treat” and a character(s) or ship in my inbox and I’ll write you a short little thing (I’ll be doing these all of October so send away!)


Takahiro stares up at the building.  It’s remarkably well kept considering it’s been empty for decades now.  But he supposes that’s thanks to all the caretakers and whoever owns it right now.  An owner that generously opens the doors for those with curious minds.  For a price of course.

Issei takes a deep breath beside him and Takahiro swings his camera in that direction to get a clear shot of Issei’s nervous face.

“Is it really worth it?” Takahiro asks, mostly just to see the way Issei frowns at him.  “I mean.  You’re subjecting yourself to a night of pure terror, the kind of which that usually makes you yell at people in horror movies to get out.  And for what?  Maybe an hour of usable footage that we pare down to approximately twenty-six minutes of content?”

“It’s about the experience, Mattsun.  And one day I will get my proof and then you’ll see.”

Takahiro nods and hums in agreement.  “Yeah.  That’ll show me.”

Issei sighs, deeply like Takahiro’s very presence disturbs something way down in his soul.

“Let’s just do this, okay?”  Takahiro shrugs and gestures for Issei to go ahead.  Issei takes a deep breath and starts in on the history of the building, listing off facts and tragedies and the strange occurrences that seem to happen once the lights go out.  For once Takahiro would like to visit a building that supposedly gets haunted in the middle of the day.  Maybe a ghost who likes to invite people to afternoon tea.  Now that would be a hell of a show.

Issei asks him a question and he stares at Issei for a moment before he says, “I was just thinking about if ghosts and ghouls like tea or not.”

Issei growls softly and walks away.

Takahiro shrugs to himself.  It had seemed like a reasonable thought to him.

“I hate this I hate this I hate this,” Issei grumbles as he walks out of the dimly lit entryway and into the completely dark hallway where the strangest and most well documented activity seems to be located.

“Bye,” Takahiro calls out.  “See you soon.  Tell the ghouls I love them.”

“I hate you,” Issei calls back.

Takahiro smiles into the camera.  “He really does hate me some days,” he tells the camera.  “There are days I feel like my life’s mission is to make him say that.”

A loud crash and a bunch of creative swearing fills the air.  Well they’re gonna have to cut most of that footage.  Or at least the audio.

Issei comes stumbling out of the hallway.  “Nope,” he says as he walks straight past Takahiro and doesn’t stop until he’s outside of the building.  “Nope,” he yells when he meets Takahiro’s eyes.  “You can go play in that hell hole.  You’ll be right at home.  I’ll stay out here.”

Takahiro turns and looks at the door to the hallway.

“Sounds like a good time,” he says to absolutely nobody.  “Let’s get this thing over with.”

“See!  Proof!”  Issei points at the computer screen and Takahiro leans in closer and watches lights flickering across it.

“The lights?”  

Issei points harder and replays the video.  “There is no logical, earthly explanation for those lights.”

They look a lot like lights bouncing off a piece of metal, like the ones that had been sitting on the other end of the room, but the excitement in Issei’s eyes makes him hold his tongue and he shrugs.

“Agree to disagree.”

Issei spends nearly an hour showing him all the things that are ‘totally proof of the supernatural’ and Takahiro nods along, making comments wherever he feels he can most frustrate Issei.

He may not believe in ghosts and ghouls and demons but he can, if nothing else, appreciate the fact that there’s no one Issei would rather do this with than him.

And there’s definitely no one else on Earth that would be able to drag him to all these dumb places and make him lose sleep other than Issei.

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