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#seijoh third years
waveoftheocean · 8 months
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it's been nearly two years since i first drew this piece but i have finally managed to color it in a way that i'm satisfied with!!! 😤 (original ver here)
07.20.23 happy birthday oikawa <333
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giustoart · 20 days
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GOJIRA HAJIME 🦖
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kuroos-left-testicle · 4 months
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Makki: Do you realise we never stop tasting our own tongues?
Mattsun: How about I taste yours for a change?
Iwaizumi: Get out of here. Both of you.
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k1197 · 8 months
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you cannot tell me that matsukawa doesn't listen to tyler, the creator and kendrick lamar
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like look at him 🤚
pls marry me 💍
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xankiir · 1 year
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ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ɪssᴇɪ ᴍᴀᴛsᴜᴋᴀᴡᴀ!
𝖨 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗋𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗒𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖬𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗌 𝖻𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗁𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝗌𝗈!
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄:
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𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓:
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vidianlucivious · 2 months
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Matsuhana, after a really intense Karaoke session or Arcade showdown, just chilling:
Mattsun: We should bring Oikawa and Iwaizumi here for a double date next time.
Makki: Wait, they're finally dating??
Mattsun: No of course not, they're denser than a brick wall. But... (insert guess-what-I'm-about-to-say look)
Makki, smirking but waiting for Mattsun to cook: ... You're onto something, spill it.
Mattsun, with a devilish grin: Simple, we don't tell them it's a double date. We tell them that it's a hangout and then just drag them to our regular places and make everybody else think that it is one. 0+1 is still 1, so it's a double date.
Makki, imagining Iwaoi at a french cafe while the workers eye them with the all-knowing-look: This is why I love you.
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lysnochiv · 2 years
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man do i love the haikyuu third years so much
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juicyjuicy05 · 1 year
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Bros I just know in my heart that Kunimi would commit random acts of violence
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mihotose · 7 months
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sashimiyas · 1 year
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i’m rewatching haikyuu for the first time in months, like half a year, and tell me why i’m sweating watching the second aoba johsai match rn
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heatwa-ves · 1 year
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vote do I reread my fav hq fic bc I know it'll make me emotional and I don't want to deal with Emotions rn but it's really good ....
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katszumi · 2 months
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Part Two
“We won.” The words left Iwaizumi’s mouth. It was the second time he said it that week. Another win for Seijoh, leaving the other team completely defenseless. It was another easy win for them.
Another win, yet another loss in his book.
He promised himself that he’d confess to you after the game. Everyday, the words repeat in his head like a mantra. Everytime he sees you, he waits for the words to leave his mouth, but they don’t. They never do.
He hates himself for it. He wished that he could just grow up and say it. Iwaizumi knew there wasn’t much time before you both graduated, and you both knew that you’d separate after.
He wanted nothing more than to cherish this time with you.
He watched as your usual bright smile stretched across your face, eyes dancing and bleeding with pride. God, he never got tired of seeing that.
“I knew you could.” It was something he heard many times before, but he didn’t have a problem with it. No. He loved it. Loved that he had your support.
There were tons of people that supported him. He was in a powerhouse school so it wasn’t odd that there were lines of people cheering his name. Yet, he only heard you. Everytime you’d scream his name, your voice would echo in his head, telling himself to play even harder to guarantee the win that day.
He remembered you wearing his jersey once. Technically, it was ‘wear your favorite player’s jersey’ at Aoba Johsai. Mostly, it was Oikawa’s jersey that was spread throughout the school. Iwaizumi truly didn’t care that he didn’t see anyone wearing his, until he saw you.
There you were standing in the crowd alongside your two friends dressed in his jersey. He remembered how fast the heat crept up his neck, blooming across his face without warning. How rapid his heart was racing, causing him to stop in place and stare at you with a tilted head. He was shocked.
He remembered how Oikawa wrapped his shoulder around him with a crooked grin. They said nothing but from his posture Iwaizumi knew Oikawa was teasing him. Though, he didn’t care in that moment. He was too happy. Happy that you were there for him. Happy you even wore his jersey.
He remembered how Oikawa faked him into going on a date with you. Well, more of a study session. All of the third years made plans to study at the library, but it was only you and him that came. While you only saw this as ditching, Iwaizumi knew that they did this so he could confess.
He was such a blushy mess being alone and close to you. Especially when you asked for help on a specific problem, his hand lightly brushed against yours as he grabbed the pencil from you, his hand immediately recoiling back as he stuttered for words. You looked up at him and grinned muttering sorry. He didn’t know why you said it, but he nodded. That day he didn’t confess either.
He remembered finding you between two vending machines, crouched down and head into your knees. Your body was shaking as choked sobs parted your lips. Immediately, he kneeled down and asked you what was wrong but you didn’t say anything. You didn’t even look up at him. Iwaizumi was unsure of what to do since he’s never been in a situation like this before. Besides, it was you. You were headstrong, it was strange to see you break down in school.
He opened his mouth to say something, but the feeling of two arms wrapping around his stomach and a head pressing into the crook of his neck ceased him from doing so. You cried into his neck, holding him tightly like he would slip away from your grasp. He thought it was selfish to be enjoying her touch like this, but only pure bliss filled his heart.
Turns out, your grades were slipping and it wasn’t guaranteed you were going to make it into university.
He remembered the wide smile that spread across your face when you aced a test that he helped you study. You took no time to engulf him into another tight hug. Iwaizumi stiffened at your touch. Unlike last time, your arms were around his neck. Your hand placed slightly below his nape. Hesitantly but surely, he placed his fit arms on your waist. For a moment he could’ve swore that you moved in closer, but he wasn’t so sure since he was focusing on not breaking down right there and then.
He remembered the first time he went inside your home. You were down with a fever, and your parents were at work. He took the day off to aid you, hoping for a quick recovery to get back at school. Your room was nothing like he expected. It was nice, and had a sweet scent.
You were embarrassed for having him see you so sick like, but he didn’t mind. You asked him how could he not be disgusted by your looks, he responded by saying you looked exactly like he always saw you. Disgusting, is what you replied with jokingly. Iwaizumi laughed with you, his heart aching with the familiar feeling he’s experienced before. More than ever, he wanted to tell you. But he just couldn’t.
He remembered the train ride home you two took that one day, not walking since it was pouring. Iwaizumi stood, holding onto the bar to keep himself balanced while you sat. You insisted for him to sit down with you since it was still a long way to go till you both got off, but he declined. He didn’t want to invade your privacy. The seat was mildly close to yours, it was definite that he’d accidentally touch you in a matter of time. He didn’t want to go through that embarrassment, nor the apologies.
After minutes of pestering, he finally sat down beside you, his legs relishing the relief he felt from standing all day. That day he learned more and more about you: your favorite animal, favorite food, favorite place, your plans after highschool, he learned it all. From the corner of his eye he noticed your head drooping, eyelids falling. In the nick of time, he caught your head from toppling over. Unsure of what to do with it, Iwaizumi did the most selfish thing he could— He placed it onto his shoulder.
Moments after, your hand found it’s way onto his. So much for ‘invading privacy’.
Finally, he remembered the solace in his heart when he heard you reject the rumors about you and Oikawa dating. You two were growing closer, leaving Iwaizumi as a grumpy, insecure mess. The practices were more tense than they usually were, all of the 1st and 2nd years confused as to who shifted the mood. The 3rd hears already knew, and they were sure why. The rumors had been going around for about a week so it wasn’t surprising that they heard of it.
Iwaizumi didn’t want to believe it, but Oikawa was the golden boy at the school, everyone fell for him. And Iwaizumi was just him. He knew there wasn’t much of a competition, he knew that you were going to pick him, and that’s why it hurt so much. He cried almost every night, refusing to speak to anyone at school or home. He also avoided you, making sure to take the longer routes to his classes and staying ten minutes after school just so you’d miss him and walk home by yourself.
But one day, there you were, waiting for him at the gates. You demanded for him to tell you why he was avoiding you, but he wouldn’t share. You kept hassling him hoping for something to slip out, and it did. In the most snarkiest way he replied with, “Why are you bothering me? Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?” He pronounced boyfriend in the most mocking way, that it made you sneer. You laughed in his face, causing his heart to break even more. Iwaizumi turned around aiming to get as far away from you as he could, but you grabbed onto his hand before he could take a step. You instantly shot down his assumption, claiming that it was only a rumor, that you and Oikawa were friends and nothing more.
That day Iwaizumi felt like an idiot. He should’ve asked instead of recklessly jumping to conclusions and leaving you in the dust. It was unfair. Mentally, he cursed at himself for being so inconsiderate towards you. Only one thought entered his mind for the rest of the day: I should just confess already.
And here you are, shining your toothy smile at him, eyes ablaze with exhilaration nearly lighting the night sky itself. You were just so alluring. There was never a day where his heart stopped beating for you, where that same crimson blush stopped occuring, where he would try to find open spots in his day to spend with you. The feeling inside of him was overwhelming, the feeling coursed through his veins like it was his blood, like a drug he couldn’t live without. He wanted you. He needed you.
And like he was starved, his mouth opened before he could process anything.
“I love you.”
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IWAIZUMI BRAINROT OH MY GOSH😫
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giustoart · 4 months
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Mr Handsome, Mr Hunky, Mr gorgeous and Mr Stunning #seijohthirdyears for you.
I love them as adults, what a glow up!
(BONUS PIC: a road trip)
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kuroos-left-testicle · 5 months
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Makki: I want to buy a new watch.
Iwaizumi: But where are you going to find $100?
Mattsun: We can always sell Oikawa.
Iwaizumi: Yeah but where are you going to find the other $95?
Oikawa: What have I ever-
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xankiir · 1 year
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ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇs ᴅᴀʏ! | ɴᴀᴏᴋɪ ᴀᴋɪɴᴏʜɪ
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dira333 · 24 days
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What's in a scarf - Matsukawa x Reader
A/N: Roommates to lovers, Miscommunication, Angst to Fluff
Requested by @notsochillnerd
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The girl is pretty, with soft blond hair and chocolate brown eyes that are now peering up at you.
“Hi?” You ask, stomach swirling with emotion. What is she doing here? Who is she? And, more importantly, who is she to Mattsun?
“Hi,” she chirps, holding out her hand, “I’m Yachi Hitoka.”
Your voice wavers a little when you tell her your name, but if she notices, she doesn’t point it out.
“Do you- uh, are you waiting- do you want something to drink, or?”
“Mattsun should be out any second,” there’s a blush forming on her cheeks as she speaks. Your stomach drops. They must be close if she’s referring to him by his nickname as well. But, doesn’t almost everyone?
“Ah, well, I guess… Do you want some coffee?” You step into the kitchen just to get away from her and the implications of her. You’re still wearing your coat, but you don’t want to go back out where she’s standing. 
You make coffee, more so to distract yourself than to offer her. 
If only Mattsun would reappear from wherever he’s vanished too. 
The universe grants you this wish much too readily for how deaf it has been to your begging in the last months. 
You can hear the front door open, can hear Mattsun’s voice before you see him, or before he sees you.
“There you go, Hitoka-chan,” His voice is warm and filled with affection. When you turn to look at them, your stomach flips. Mattsun’s tying a scarf around the girl’s neck, the color a familiar turquoise. It’s the one he brought back from Seijoh, a custom-made accessory everyone bought. It had been a whim of the Captain in his third year and he’s insanely protective of the piece. To see it wrapped around some other girl's neck makes you choke. You turn back to your coffee, wishing with all your might that it trickles down faster. You need to get out of here.
“Oh,” Mattsun’s voice changes. If it had been warm like a cup of tea before, it’s now smooth and deep and sweet, like drinking molten chocolate. He calls your name. 
“Oh, hey.” You turn around. His brows shoot up at the sight of your forced smile… Or maybe it’s the furrow of your brows that sets him off.
He’s next to you in two big steps. “You okay?” He asks and you nod instead of shaking your head. 
You’re not okay. But he’s got a pretty girl waiting for him, a girl he willingly gives his scarf to, a girl that’s prettier and daintier and just not you.
“I’m fine, just tired. Are you going out?”
“Are you sure?” His hand moves but you step back before he can touch you. Something flickers over his face but you don’t dare to follow it. You turn back to the coffeemaker, fill the drink into your travel mug, and straighten again, presenting it to him like the solution to all of your problems.
“Well, I’ll be going. See you around. Yachi-chan,” You nod in her direction as you rush out of the apartment. 
Actually, you had planned to stay home. You had been dreaming of a cozy evening on the couch all day, the thought of a movie night cuddled up with Mattsun the most heavenly thing. But this isn’t going to be happening. Not tonight, and not in a while, it seems.
And isn’t that just pathetic?
That you can’t even begin to unravel yourself from him, that your mind doesn’t allow the thought of “Not him!” but instead clings to the possibility of “Not now!”?
-
“Are you sure you’re not just overreacting?” Your older sister asks an hour later.
You’re sitting on a park bench outside of the library. This one has the best view, even more so now that the sun is beginning to set and below you, the city turns into a canvas of twinkling lights.
“I’m not overreacting!” You defend yourself immediately. “You know how much this scarf means to him.”
“Yeah, but it’s not the only one in existence. It could be Makki’s or belong to one of the other guys that were on his team.”
“But she was so pretty-” You begin, only to be interrupted by her sigh.
“Haven’t I told you enough times already that you don’t have to worry about that? You’re the only one who thinks you look like a troll.”
“I don’t think I look like a troll.”
“Listen,” your sister’s voice suddenly gets that specific tone that tells you to listen up and behave and you straighten without really wanting to, “You need to go back and talk to him. And if I’m wrong in this, which I am not, you can have that dress of mine you always want to borrow.”
“For real?”
“For real.”
-
The apartment is quiet when you enter. 
A quick check confirms your suspicion, Mattsun isn’t home. 
You busy yourself with doing the laundry and even get rid of a fat spider hiding next to the washing machine. As you take a picture of your confirmed kill, a habit you’ve grown into ever since you moved in with Mattsun, you can’t help but feel the sadness crawl into your bones again.
It’s comfortable, sharing a flat with him. He’s clean, organized and he always pays his bills on time. The only thing he brings home - besides discounted flowers from the funeral home - is Makki and you’ve long grown used to their humor, awful Karaoke session, and the occasional bout of drunken weirdness.
You send the picture anyway, even though you should have let it live. It would serve Mattsun right to stumble across it in the dead of night. 
But still… How can one not fall in love with him? That’s a question you still have not found an answer to.
You resume your task, get back to folding the clean laundry, still warm from the dryer.
Something turquoise peaks out of the mess and you tug at it, half expecting it to be Mattsun’s old team jersey.
But it’s not.
It’s a scarf.
His scarf, you confirm. His mother stitched his first name into it because he kept coming home with more than one, never knowing which one was his.
Your heart stumbles as your mind tries its best to catch on.
If this is his scarf, then….
-
You must have fallen asleep, drained from feeling too many emotions in one single day. You blink against the dim light coming from the kitchen only to realize that there’s a warm hand cradling your cheek.
“Mattsun?” You ask and he hums low in his throat. 
“Hey,” He mumbles, dragging his fingers through your hair, “Are you feeling well?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you try to push yourself up but he settles heavy on your legs, keeping you down. 
“Stay, please?” 
“I can barely see you,” you point out. 
He laughs and maybe it’s the lack of vision that enhances your senses, makes his voice trickle over your skin like the touch of a feather. 
“Maybe that’s for the best.”
You huff and cuddle back into the pillows. The Couch lacks the abundance of your bed, but it’s good enough. Something soft is curled around your right arm and you nuzzle into it, recognizing its telltale turquoise color a little too late.
“Ohmygod,” you gasp, trying to untangle yourself from the scarf as quickly as you can, “I’m so sorry.”
“No, it’s okay,” Mattsun’s hand is warm on your wrist. “It looked cute how you cuddled with it.”
Heat envelopes your face and you press your face into the scarf to hide from him. 
You’re the master of lying to yourself, of letting insecurity overwhelm you, but even you have to acknowledge that this looks like more than friends.
It feels like more than friends too, has felt like that for months now.
Mattsun’s hand is on your back now, rubbing lazy circles into your skin. He seems to be comfortable sitting on your legs and maybe it’s that, this comfortableness and the fact that you can’t get away, that has you address what needs to be said.
“Mattsun?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you like Yachi-chan?”
“She’s nice,” he tells you quietly, “A little shy but she’s good for Kentaro.”
“Kentaro?”
“Mhm,” his hand stops for a second, “Did you not know-?”
You bite your lip, glad he can’t possibly see your face right now. But his voice is too soft when he speaks on. Either he’s able to see right through the thick fabric of his scarf or he knows you to well.
“Did you think I was dating Hitoka?”
“Maybe?”
His hand leaves your back. His weight leaves your legs. You try to swallow but only meet resistance. 
Suddenly the room is flooded with brightness. You flinch back and blink into the light.
Mattsun’s in the door, hand still on the switch.
“I want you to see my face when I tell you this,” he declares with determination. “I’m in love with you.”
Your heart stops for a beat, only to resume it’s work with double the speed.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely!” There’s a boyish grin on his face now as he kneels down in front of the couch and pulls your hands out from under the scarf. “Who else will kill all the spiders for me?”
“You’re an idiot!” You scoff, unable to hide your own grin now. 
“But you love me, right?” He asks, peering up at you. “Right?”
You nod, unable to speak. But Mattsun understands anyway.
He eases the scarf from your hands and wraps it around your neck, pulling you close by the ends until there’s nothing but a breath keeping you apart.
“I’d love it if you kissed me now,” he teases.
So you do.
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