finally, my carrd!! แกฃ๐ญฉ
know me a little bit!!
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Today's Document
Aqua Utopia๏ฝๆตทใฎๅบใง่จๆถใ็ดกใ
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

โ

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@iwaoiness
finally, my carrd!! แกฃ๐ญฉ
know me a little bit!!

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i can be your angle or your devil [id in alt]
sketch under readmore bc i liked it
Messy
A quick little doodle after a sudden iwaoi urge hit me and I whipped this up like I was possessed.
Iwa-chan as a father got kinda stuck in my headโฆ * v *

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run boys run
the concept of iwa-chan training with the baseball team on his days off from volleyball is sooo hot. it doesn't matter what position you put him in, he'll do it perfectly. he'll give it everything he's got as if he's been part of the team from the start, and everyone will fight to have him in their group.
as a batter, he focuses with absolute intensity. he even has this little ritual where he shakes the bat four times before lifting it and gripping it tightly in the perfect stance. and his swing is so powerful and steady that it cuts through the air every single time he hits.
and he always slips past every player at every base. there's simply no human way to stop him from reaching each diamond.
as a pitcher, his form is always impeccable. his right arm is a fully loaded cannon, and he syncs up effortlessly with whatever catcher he's paired with.
whenever he has to defend a base, he always ends up on the ground, covered in dirt and grass, because he'd rather die than let the damn ball slip out of his glove.
he does flips, runs like the devil himself is chasing him, slides like a penguin, twists through the air. and whenever he gets the ball, his throws are flawless in power, precision, and accuracy.
and there still isn't an opponent capable of getting past him and touching the diamond under his watch. no matter what they do, they always end up out.
and when he's the catcher, his calls are impeccable. he may not have oikawa's ability to bring out one hundred percent of every person standing in front of him, but confidence radiates from every pore.
and he always listens carefully, attentive, never saying more than necessary or stepping over anyone. when people ask for his opinion, he calmly lays out his strategies, and he likes seeing that people pay him the same attention in return and genuinely take him into consideration.
iwaizumi also takes the liberty of staying a little longer after practice, sweaty and covered in dirt, helping and advising the first-years. they watch him in complete awe, listening intently, some of them blushing when hajime asks for permission before adjusting their posture to help them improve
and that always leads to makki and mattsun having to hold tooru back by the arms to stop him from vaulting over the chain-link fence while he complains about the audacity of those kouhais getting flustered when iwa-chan is only touching them because they don't know how to play.
although, more than once, the two of them conveniently ignore the only job they're supposed to do just so they can laugh and enjoy the sight of tooru stumbling his way over hajime, pretending his pride is still intact because he never manages to clear the fence properly and always loses his balance.
he stands beside iwa-chan, shoulder to shoulder, wearing that ear-to-ear smile that doesn't quite match the dangerous sparkle in his eyes or the sharpness of his tongue, enough to make all the first-years tense up.
and iwa-chan scolds him, of course he does, shoving him or smacking the back of his head whenever he goes too far. but even from the other side of the fence, mattsun and makki can see iwa's lovestruck little smile slipping through, the way his gaze softens whenever tooru ends up giving the boys genuine advice.
they're not anything to each other yet, and somehow they're already everything. and makki really, reaaaally wishes they'd get a move on already, preferably before graduation, because he has a bet to win against mattsun, yahaba and the captain of the baseball club, thank you very much.
...
my man simply refuses to be bad at any sport!!
u can find me on my ao3, bluesky, strawpage and this is my carrd ๐
iwaoi kasal real!!!
After a game when their bodies were still running hot but the adrenaline had begun to run cold, it was a countdown. First was the slow wilt of shoulders, then the flutter of eyelashes followed by the ever increasing bob of his head. Oikawa had spent an impressive amount of his years riding next to Iwaizumi Hajime, so much so that when Iwaizumi began to tip to the side it was an easy catch.
Oikawa allowed for the lightest touch of his hand to Iwaizumiโs face, an almost imperceptible cradle that led Iwaizumi to rest against Oikawaโs shoulder. The rhythm of his breathing didnโt even bother to hitch; his eyelashes were set in an unmoving line and his mouth had gone entirely slack with sleep.
The weight of his body was a comfort, and Oikawa felt his own eyes slide closed as their breathing slowly ebbed into sync.
(written by @suggestivescribe)
a piece for Moments: an IwaOi zineย ๐

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the air feels different when oikawa finally steps off the plane, his face still sleepy and his backpack heavy on the shoulder stiff from sleeping badly. he breathes deeply as he walks down the stairs.
he's in california for the first time.
his legs tingle as he crosses the tarmac toward the terminal with the rest of the passengers, flexing his fingers restlessly when they step through the doors and the cool air conditioning raises goosebumps on the exposed skin of his arms.
there's so much noise inside, dozens of people converging after landing just like him, many workers calling out while rushing from one place to another. among all the english, there are traces of other languages.
tooru's eyes sweep across the terminal until they finally land on the baggage carousel for his flight, and he moves closer to look for his suitcases. luckily, they don't take long to appear, and he adjusts his backpack before pulling his 20kg suitcase and the other 10kg one off the belt.
one black-brown and one green, covered in all sorts of stickers, some worn and faded, others brand new. his mother had asked him if he'd gone a little overboard when he told her how much luggage he was bringing for fifteen days. but for oikawa, it's fine. there are basic things, things he needs, things that are there just in case and things that are for iwa-chan.
he drags them along at either side as he walks towards the exit, nerves beginning to simmer beneath his skin over a slow fire. tooru's here, he's still a little sleepy, but he's really on american ground.
with his argentine passport in hand, he makes his way through customs and immigration, the whole process slow and tedious, barely paying attention to what they're asking him and only thinking if he activated the sim card properly, if iwa-chan got his message, if he replied, if he'll be waiting beyond the doors, if tooru'll have to get an uber, if he wrote down iwa-chan's address somewhere.
maybe it was a little reckless to tell him once he got on the plane, that he was coming, ignoring the fact that their last messages had been five months ago and their last conversation had been on instagram three months ago, when iwa congratulated him on his naturalization.
but he did it, and there's no taking it back.
his heart told him it wanted to risk absolutely everything, and who is oikawa to tell it no? who is tooru to tell himself no?
he loves hajime the way he loves the sun when it rains and the rain when the sun is shining. he loves hajime in every version of himself and across every distance. the silence hurts him, and the calm hurts him too.
tooru follows the group of passengers making their way towards the exit, his stomach twisting and his nerves are now biting at his skin from every direction. his breathing quickens a little when the doors open and they step outside to a sea of people waiting on the other side.
oikawa slowly makes his way through families reuniting through tears, couples throwing themselves into each other's arms, abandoned luggage, children shouting happily and bouncing on their feet, mechanical voices announcing flights and arrivals.
there's no sign of iwa, and tooru's heart shrinks and he wants to throw up.
the airport is huge and oikawa walks over a few empty seats between two overcrowded cafรฉs, though he doesn't sit down. he leaves his suitcases at his side, his backpack on one of the chairs, slips a trembling hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, turning it on.
and his knees nearly give out when he sees the dozens of messages from iwa-chan, from hajime. the last ones, sent less than an hour ago.
iwa-chan ๐ฆ
still cant fucking believe what u've done
u're the biggest asshole
im omw, there's traffic
but i'll get there
relief floods through him, and he has to blink when his eyes begin to sting with tears. he holds his phone in both hands, thinking and thinking and thinking about what to reply, until he notices iwa-chan is online. his eyes widen and his breath catches when he reads the "typing..."
what if...?
iwa-chan ๐ฆ
turn around
and tooru does and he sobs, his face crumpling the way it always does when he's trying not to cry, when he sees iwaizumi standing only eight steps away instead of more than 8,000 kilometres, breathless, as he'd crossed the entire airport just for him, opening his arms as if there were nowhere else for him in the world
maybe there isn't.
tooru runs, with legs trembling, and crashes into hajime with the force of a meteor, sending them both stumbling backwards until iwaizumi anchors them firmly in place and keeps them upright in the middle of the collision. he feels one strong arm around his waist, the other across his back, and tooru sinks into his scent and his presence.
how could tooru have let this happen? how could he have let any crack grow wider instead of filling it with more love and patience and effort?
"i'm sorry," he murmurs quietly, tightening his arms around hajime's neck as he buries himself deeper against him. "i'm so sorry, hajime."
"it was both of us, idiot," he replies, his voice clear and damp, while the hand on his back strokes him with all the affection gathered over decades of an ethereal bond. "i can't believe you're here" he whispers against the skin of his neck, making it break out in goosebumps.
sniffling, oikawa slowly calms down, hajime's heart beating hard and real against his own.
it's been a miracle to make this trip to california and see hajime happen, the journey and the visa have been a disaster. but tooru wouldn't mind living somewhere between miracle and disaster if it's for iwa.
a millennium passes before they pull apart, but only enough to lift their gazes and look at each other and take in everything they've allowed themselves to miss. hajime looks bigger, more mature, softer. his eyes haven't lost their brightness or their colour and his skin is maybe a little darker and there's a piercing through his eyebrow that makes tooru smile at the image of kaa-chan being horrified by it.
tooru cradles hajime's face, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs, feeling warmth spread across his own when he realizes hajime is looking at him too, studying him, drinking him in as if he'd gone years without water and had finally found an oasis of fresh water.
"i'm staying for fifteen days" he murmurs, looking into the eyes that watched him grow up.
"judging by everything you brought with you, i thought you'd be staying for a lifetime," hajime replies, but what he wanted to sound like a joke doesn't quite manage it.
"can i?" tooru asks breathlessly, courage running through his veins. "can i stay for a lifetime with you? this time for real, this time without running away?"
there's a gentle squeeze at his waist, pulling him even closer if that's possible and hajime's eyes fill with pure love.
"don't ask. you can, of course you can, tooru."
...
long live iwaoi airport reunions ๐โโ๏ธ
u can find me on my ao3, bluesky and this is my carrd and strawpage ๐
โจ๐Drama Queen Oikawa ๐ โจ
(That's ok, it's not that bad. He's okay girrrls)
I laughed so much making this. Each time I came across that Iwaizumi look I could'nt help but chuckle.
Have a lovely night my dears!
my prince my star
Rockstar Oikawa??
hi. i late losing. do you ever get depressed? i'm in a great mood right now and it is NOT a manic state. anyway, i've googled 10,000 volleyball facts. fact one: the volleyball is a horse and he loves me
(quote, author)

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I know their gossip was LETHAL
โYouโre my partner that I can be proud ofโ
I meant to post this sooner on actual Valentines day. Even with things like the Olympics, it feels like the world needs a little more love. Hope everyoneโs been doing well <3