crossover ?!
Calling All Haikyuu Fans! 🏐🎶
Hi everyone,
My name is Sara and I’m a huge Haikyuu fan, just like you. Four years ago, just one week before the Haikyuu manga ended I poured my heart into writing a song inspired by its story and characters. Not to toot my own horn, but I think it works great as an outro.
It’s my dream for this song to reach Haruichi Furudate and the amazing creatives and executives behind Haikyuu, and hopefully, to appear in the upcoming film adaptation. And thakfully, this is now possible since the film's producers are gonna be answering questions at a convention. But I need your help to make this dream a reality!
What’s the Plan?
📅 Date: BEFORE August 24.
✉️ Mission: Send this question to the Anime NYC panel before August 24 here (https://animenyc.com/haikyu-panel-fly-connect-q-a/)
Dear Mr. Matsushita and Mr. Taguchi. My name is [Your Name], and I am a passionate fan of Haikyuu. I've come across a song by a fellow fan that beautifully captures the spirit of the series. It’s her dream for this song to reach Haruichi Furudate and the creative team behind Haikyuu and it would be a fantastic addition to the upcoming Haikyuu film adaptation. You can listen to the song here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWamSJ5bVZY&t=1s Thank you for considering this suggestion.
Let’s unite and make this happen together! 💪🏐
Thank you for your support and let’s do this!
i fucking hate it so much when people write iwaoi fics where oikawa is like the center of the universe and iwaizumi just follows him everywhere like a dog like no that’s not what a good relationship is built on what if he doesn’t WANT to move to argentina. what if he doesn’t want to drop his entire life for the resolution of their fanfic. what if he is a person and not a fucking accessory to oikawa’s being
like i think that yeah, the earth orbits the sun, but the sun is also not the center of the universe
anyway. it ticks me off so bad i guess i am going to write it because YEAH maybe he’ll return in the end because they love each other and nothing could keep them apart but that is not because one of them is a person and the other just follows him everywhere it’s not fair and it also is not a healthy relationship at all and how can they be an otp if their relationship is toxic and also sucks
nothing beats the ship dynamic of “hissy black cat and his loyal golden retriever bf”
I eat that shit up every. single. time.
The calm before the storm.
iwaoi, but's it's iwaizumi who had always wanted to leave japan. he found his every day life in miyagi stifling. he hated seeing the same classmates over and over again with their disagreeable opinions and close-minded worldviews, hated the way the people in his neighborhood all knew each other and their business, hated the way it rained and hated the way the sun rose every single day. he hated the very idea of staying in miyagi more than he had to.
he talked to oikawa about this regularly, ever since they could form thoughts that ventured outside of their little realm in japan. first, he told oikawa he'd move out of miyagi. he'd find an apartment in tokyo, or a job as a farmhand in hokkaido, or anywhere else that isn't miyagi and the life he's had to grow up in. then, as he got older, he went a step further.
china, he'd mumble oikawa during the first class of the day in middle school.
the phillippines, he'd shout at oikawa while peppering a volleyball.
somewhere further, he'd finally admitted to oikawa while walking home from a late-night home court game, his gaze trained on the ground with the most vulnerability he'd shown in years. like america. i've applied to a college in america.
oikawa had laughed at him on most times. iwaizumi knew oikawa liked life in miyagi; he got along with his classmates fine, girls liked him, he loved his family and their neighborhood, loved the sunrise and the rain. iwaizumi knew this because oikawa had always disagreed with him on those subjects.
but liking life wasn't enough when oikawa's goals were set further than what he would be constrained to at home. loving japan wasn't enough when japan didn't love him.
argentina, oikawa had whispered, miserable, to him for the first time near the end of their first year in high school. he'd seen kageyama around. he'd seen the way his serves had gotten better and better and better.
their planes left mere weeks from each other. oikawa first, to argentina, with tears in his eyes and a sharp call to not be stranger. iwaizumi left second, wishing his family a farewell with his heart full to finally leave.
iwaizumi had liked california enough. he was entertained, if not occasionally confused, by the manner of young adult americans. he had thought, originally, that he wouldn't miss japan. maybe he'd miss his family and the two friends he'd left, but nothing else. he thought the pang in his chest when his american roommate and newfound friends went out for a chicken wing restaurant and not onigiri, when they spoke exclusively english (sometimes spanish) and not japanese, when there were beds and air mattresses and not futons, that he was missing familiarity, is all. he only missed not feeling out of place.
oikawa had shared with him, over their many calls, his own struggles with homesickness. but, oikawa had told him over grainy Facetime, my team has done everything to make me feel at home. spanish isn't as hard as i thought it'd be! i'm going to make this work. even if i miss you and japan. i just... i need this. i need argentina.
both he and oikawa managed to make it home for christmas after only a few months into their respective journeys into the americas. they arrived at different times, though, so iwaizumi made the trip home from tokyo alone. he took two trains, then a taxi closer to his house. he saw the billboards in his own language. he watched people that looked like himself. they went to restraunts with onigiri. their seating would be chabudai and not high tables and booths. he saw familiar streets and familiar faces in his neighborhood.
he came to his house, where he knew exactly where the patch of grass his childhood cat was buried in the backyard. he could see phantoms of himself riding his bike up and down the road. he could see where he caught butterflies, where oikawa chased him with a handful of worms.
he came home, and his family was waiting for him. it all rushed over him, when he saw them again. all the anxiety of not being able to get to them fast if they got into an accident. constantly wondering what he'd be doing if he was in japan and not at uc-irvine. thinking about how much he preferred his home culture to the strangeness of the united states.
he met with oikawa next, who regaled him on his adventures in argentina as if they hadn't talked nearly everyday since their planes took them away from home.
i'm going to stay, oikawa told him during a late evening stroll after dinner, his eyes alight with happiness and success. i love it in argentina. it's everything i want and need.
iwaizumi was happy for him. but, iwaizumi knew he would not be content doing the same.
i'm coming back home after i get my bachelor's, he told oikawa after a second's pause, letting the coldness of the evening wash over him, watching the sun set in the way he'd spent hating his entire life. america is nice, but japan is where i'm meant to be.
he found that he didn't mind the rain when he was no longer seventeen and hating his classmates. he didn't mind staring out the window of the house he grew up in when he wasn't sixteen and desperate to leave. he'd been to the other side of the fence, and the grass simply wasn't any greener.
and he knew he'd be okay with that, eventually, even if a part of him wondered if he was giving up. even if that part of him wanted to riot and rage and scream at the idea of staying in the place he'd always told everyone he'd leave.
oikawa looked at him, then, with his eyes still bright but shining with a different kind of light. and that's perfectly fine, oikawa said to him, his voice low and earnest.
there was not a hint of condescension. nothing that said, you gave up. you are worth nothing. you will be nothing. oikawa meant it when he said that it was fine that leaving wasn't all iwaizumi had chalked it up to be. his tone said, in every way, nothing has changed. you will be just as good here as you would be anywhere else. you have not given up. there is nothing wrong with letting yourself be happy.
somehow, that was more reassuring than any of the faux comforts he'd been trying to console himself with.
— n.s.f.w; smut
Oikawa’s hair had always been long and thick, cascading down to cover the back of his neck. But ever since he embraced the undercut in Argentina, his neck appeared longer, more exposed, and irresistibly tempting. And when they’re fucking—Tooru's face buried in the sheets, his fingers gripping them tightly—Hajime leans in, his head dipping low to lick the length of that revealed neck, trailing kisses and leaving bites in his wake.
Then there are his shoulders, broader, stronger, burdened with the weight of a world-class athlete. When they fuck, Hajime loves to watch those powerful shoulders tremble with every thrust, as if the only thing capable of making them falter, of bringing them to the brink of collapse, is him
His back, that broad, sturdy and perfect back that tapers into a divine, narrow waist that Oikawa often tilts slightly when he’s standing, focused on whatever’s caught his attention. And when they fuck, Hajime loves to grip that waist, leaving his marks on Oikawa’s golden skin, squeezing tight as they both reach the brink. Even in the heat of the moment, their movements are perfectly synchronized, as if they’re determined to climax together.
His long arms, ending in hands with slender, bony fingers—hands that have placed balls worthy of Olympic medals and podiums in the best leagues. Conductor's hands that direct an orchestra of players with unwavering precision. And when they fuck, those same hands grip tightly to Hajime's back, leaving marks on his skin, or cradle his face with a nearly fragile tenderness, seeking his gaze (because Tooru has always liked to look into Hajime’s eyes before he comes). Or they intertwine with Hajime's, guiding his rhythm (because, of course, Tooru would never miss an opportunity to conduct) as Hajime prepares him.
And then there are his legs—powerful, long, strong, and fucking flexible. Legs that lift him to the top, propelling him to the skies and the podiums. Legs that Oikawa loves to show off, especially when he wears his sports shorts and rolls them up to his thighs (and when he does it in front of Iwaizumi, the bastard always looks up at him with that crooked smile that says I know you like what you see and I don't want you to look away). And when they fuck, Hajime hooks one of those majestic legs behind the knee, lifting it over his shoulder to drive deeper, dragging Tooru to the very edge of the abyss.
Tooru is fucking hot. And he belongs to Hajime. Completely.
...
i just know iwa worships oikawa's body a lot its not a headcanon anymore its canon furudate told me
u cand find me on my ao3 🍉
Okay, but Oikawa Tooru is a dark mage who specializes in nightmares so while people adore him for his looks, personality and charms, he never really has close friends or dates because magical people has also heard many rumours about him being dangerous to hang out/sleep with (except non-magic humans, but they do find him off and has heard rumours that he rejects anyone and does not participate in romance stuff).
Cue, Iwaizumi Hajime, a non-magical human whose lineage was blessed by a witch once upon a time ago, where any magic directed towards him has the opposite effect. Lately, he’s been plagued by nightmares and couldn’t sleep.
So in order to counter this, Iwaizumi goes to Oikawa for help.
"Can't two guys be just friends?" If they stop looking at each other like that then sure
Japan playing the Haikyuu!! theme song after beating Argentina in volleyball is so iconic
i burst into tears whenever i think about haikyuu and the importance of people.
firm believer that a true romantic ushioi would never be possible. bc oikawa would never do that to himself
