a wild oikawa has appeared . kyoutani tries to run away .

@crowncapt | has done nothing to warrant this reaction but this is where we’re at .

❝ Right, right, forgot. Bo’s got dumb luck like that, it’s totally unfair. ❞ Oikawa doesn’t mention the fact that a certain Waluigi made the game ten times more stress inducing than it had to be, but he won’t bring it up. ❝ Since donkey king isn’t here anymore, I guess a rematch won’t hurt. Just don’t cry this time when you loose to me. ❞

❝ well,  i’m not going easy on you!  rematch,  rematch! ❞  tragically,  upon the startup music and mario’s infuriatingly italian YAHOO!,  oikawa remembers.  he remembers everything.  

❝ Because the last time we did that, you cried when you lost. ❞ And Bokuto threw his controller through the wall when he won, but they don’t talk about that.

❝  i —   i told you,  i didn’t cry!  my contacts were just drying out!  also,  bo-chan super isn’t allowed to play with us anymore.  i literally cannot look at donkey kong the same way ever again.  like,  on the last turn,  he got that RANDOM CHANCE box that gave him two stars.  TWO!  i think he rigged it!  stupid donkey kong!!  ❞  

  So maybe he’s done this a thousand times– or, however many weeks have passed since the first day of primary school. This Wednesday, however, this week in their last semester of third year of high school, is no different from any other. It’s immediately before practice; the point, at which, Iwaizumi is the most on-edge, volatile, and apprehensive; the most cognizant of Oikawa’s existence.

He pens it lovingly; straightening out a page torn from his notebook carefully before leaning against a wall to write out the note. The same note he writes every week—that’s been a constant since elementary school. He folds it and slides it carefully into Oikawa’s shoe-locker. It reads the same thing it always has.          

                                  ‘  Get Outta My School. ‘

OIKAWA KEEPS EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE NOTES.  had he been born with just a pinch more creativity,  he might’ve even taken up scrap-booking to better document the progression in iwaizumi’s handwriting.  well, no matter.  it pretty much looks the same since elementary school.

❝  hey, hey, hey!  love notes,  already?  couldn’t wait until after practice,  iwa-chan?  is your heart just bursting?  ❞  he fakes feeling faint,  going so far as to rest the back of his palm on his forehead  —  both imitating and mocking a modern tragedy.  

this is absolutely, positively, one hundred percent unacceptable, & tanaka cannot go on now knowing the truth of the situation. at times, he respects a man who sees the beauty in kiyoko - san ( because he’s a man with good taste ), but only the deserving are truly worthy ! & tanaka can tell with every ounce of his manly essence that this guy is not worthy enough.

‘ oi, you big puff - haired peacock !! what did you want with our precious manager ?! ’

them karasuno types are all the same.  CRAPPASUNOS.  that’s pretty funny!  he’s totally gonna use it,  one day,  and it’s super gonna land.   ❝ oi,  crappasuno. ❞    one day turns to today,  but  —  nah.  sounded better in his head than on paper,  no doubt. 

❛    HEY ,   ASSHOLE .    ❜    as eloquent a way as any to greet the volleyball captain in what is supposed to be a communal space .    ryuji’s even got his mean mug on for the occasion ,   jamming a thumb over his shoulder towards the back of the gym .    ❛    tell your friggin’ brutes t’stop recordin’ their shitty rock opera in the middle of the locker room !    there ain’t enough room for all of us back there !    ❜     

OH, THIS GUY.  the ugly one!  he’s bizarrely early for their usual bicker.  they usually break it da fuck down around 4:30,  but now?  a quarter past?  how ridiculously unheard of.  oikawa hasn’t even changed into his time for tōru’s opinion t-shirt.  

still,  ugly brings up a solid point.