#i'm very tired after exams so i hope i actually made my points clear

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

I can't believe there's Ango hate ;(( He's just a little guy! He loves both his friends, wears silly little glasses, he actively helps Dazai, who did very much put him in a hospital. Chuuya of all people manages to bully-manipulate him in DA, because he knows Ango feels guilty about DHC, even if he couldn't have done anything (though he tried!) He gives Ango closure before his leap of faith and says "It wasn't your fault. You tried your best." These two, making my bsd brainrot worse 😌

I know!! I really don't get it. :(

And yeah he loves both his friends very much, and the story emphasizes how much he values human life! His introduction and establishing character moment is exactly this!

Yes, absolutely I liked the acknowledgement from Chuuya, that Ango tried to stop it but didn't have the status or influence to do anything. As someone who also recognizes the value of a life, that only makes sense. I do have to wonder what their history actually is. They're both very interesting, with their affiliations to an organization that aligns with their exterior selves and presentation but contradicts some of their inner values. I also have a theory that Ango did not join the Special Division by choice, which would heighten the parallels... that's more of a "what if" theory though than anything bounded by sole rationality.

It's odd though... despite not enjoying the fandom hate I've seen for Ango I actually enjoy (?) the continued animosity from Dazai. Let me explain. I've already gone over why hating Ango for what went down is kind of irrational, but it's precisely because it's not rational that makes it so interesting to me. Dazai remains furious at him, and it's not just because of Odasaku. His anger began with Ango's betrayal in the first place. I will never stop bringing up how Dazai was the one to approach Ango. Dazai found him interesting and liked him. Dazai invited him to join them at Bar Lupin. Dazai has taken the initiative to "just hang out" with no other character in the series.

Dazai is angry because he is hurt, plain and simple. It's not just a betrayal of the mafia, it's personal. It's an emotional response. And in a book (Dark Era) whose whole purpose was to draw a dividing line between the Demon Prodigy and Dazai - that is, that Dazai does not, in fact, make all perfectly logical choices and will prioritize emotion given the right impetus - the continuation of this theme throughout the manga is a good reminder when we don't get detailed descriptions of Dazai's countenance or others' impressions of him in the narration. Moreover, I think it's not just Ango that's an issue but also that he brings back painful memories Dazai would rather not dwell on - remember that Dazai was the one who brought Oda into the Mafia with a promise of relative safety from the people who were after him. I would say there's likely a projection of self-blame going on here too.

It just really sucks for poor Ango, who already blames himself and ends up being regularly bullied and guilt tripped into doing stuff for him. I really really hope that the story leads to some kind of closure for them and that they both stop with the blame, self-directed or otherwise... They need it badly.

Also also! He's very strict with his subordinates but also good with them! And I am certain he must've had to jump hoops in Gaiden to keep everyone alive oh my god.

Yeah. Little guy! :')

#bsd #bsd ango #i'm very tired after exams so i hope i actually made my points clear #storyrambles #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #bsd odasaku

[noctumbra]

𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒏 (𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏)

summary ─ “not yet,” he whispered. “i jus’ wanna keep on kissin’ you.”

pairing ─ fuckboy!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, light fluff, angst, kissing, riding, crying, emotinal sex, shall we call it love making???, unprotected sex, nothing extreme in this one folks, this is the real goodbye sex believe

a/n ─ hi. i'm back with yet another fb bucky fic :) i feel like i fucked up a bit towards the end but.... lmao hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank youuu <333

previous part ─ trilogy masterlist

It was the graduation day when he popped out from his hiding place.

It had been weeks since the last time you saw Bucky. You knew he dropped you off to your apartment, your roommate was kind enough to tell you because he had to ring the bell. You saw your call history on your phone and knew you called Bucky. You talked on the phone for almost forty minutes. You didn’t remember what you talked about, though, and that was what you’d like to ask him, but you haven’t seen him ever since that night.

So, when your doorbell rang as you were getting ready for the day, you didn’t expect to find him standing at your doorstep.

“Hi,” he whispered. He had a tired smile on his face; his eyes looked haunted and it seemed like he lost weight. You frowned.

“Hey,” you whispered back. Your eyes were seizing his body up and down, worry etched on your face. “Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask. He sniffed lightly and nodded. It was a hesitant nod, and you picked up on it immediately. “Bucky…” you said. He waved a dismissive hand on the air.

“It’s fine,” he murmured. “Couldn’t sleep lately, that’s it.” You frowned but didn’t say anything. Opening the door a little more, you invited him inside. He smiled as he stepped through the threshold. “I was, um, wondering how you’re doing since, uh, you know, that night.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “I’m fine.” You slowly moved your head back and forth. Chewing on your lip, you decided to out with it. “I saw that I called you that night from my call history,” you started. “I don’t remember what we talked about, though.” You watched Bucky as his face went from shocked to relieved to sad. It was an interesting transition, you thought. “I was hoping you could tell me, actually.”

He let out a laugh, it sounded forced. “Oh, um, it was nothing important, really,” he said, shrugging. “You talked about how you hated the taste of beer, and said that you can’t understand why people like vodka.” He smiled.

“For forty minutes?” You asked, eyebrows high on your forehead. He nodded. “Damn.” You would talk about those things, and if you did talk about them for forty minutes, then it was too normal for you to now remember anything because you must have been drunk as fuck. You chuckled. “Here I was worrying myself to sickness because I made a dumb out of myself.” Bucky chuckled lightly with you.

“No, you didn’t,” he said. “You were totally right.” You rolled your eyes.

“Sure, Barnes,” you grunted. Bucky chuckled again. A silence fell between you two, but it wasn’t disturbing. Instead, it was peaceful, and you smiled when you realized you somehow missed his presence being next to you.

“You’re gonna look beautiful,” Bucky said after a short while, and you made a questioning hum. He pointed at your dress for the graduation day. “It’s gonna look amazing on you.” You felt your cheeks burn as you smiled and ducked your head.

“Thanks,” you murmured. Bucky’s lips curled up at your reaction, his stomach suddenly flipping over. He silently cleared his throat. “I’ll, um,” you started, biting your lips for a second before you continued. “I’ll see you at the graduation?” You asked. Sniffing a little, Bucky nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m gonna be there. I’m graduating, too, y’know,” he added. You let out a short chuckle, and he rolled his eyes, but both of you were joking. So, it didn’t take you too long to start laughing.

“It’s good to know that you were studying while parading around,” you murmured with a grin on your face. Bucky blushed. He might have been fucking around, yes, but he did study to his exams, thank you very much.

“Well, I gotta pay my loans somehow, right?” He sent you a wink and grinned back at you. You shook your head fondly.

You hated for making you fall in love with him, breaking your heart and using you, but you knew you were going to miss him like crazy after today. You didn’t know his plans after school─ actually, you didn’t know anything about him and his life. You didn’t know about his future plans, about his parents, siblings if he had any, or what he liked to do on his free time. He was a blank page; the only thing you knew, however, was what he liked in bed and how he acted when he was angry, and that was it. You frowned slightly.

“Hey─” You heard him and felt his large, warm hand holding your wrist gently. “Where did you go?” He asked, his voice soft and eyes concerned. It was a new look on him; not unwelcomed but unexpected. You never saw him worrying over you, or showing his emotions so openly to you before.

You chewed on your lip, debating on telling the truth. Looking at his beautiful, blue eyes, seeing the slight vulnerability in them, you said ‘fuck it’ to yourself in your mind. “I’m gonna miss you,” you blurted. “After today, I mean. I’m gonna miss seeing you around.”

His eyes changed. Their color looked brighter, they widened, and you saw some tears gathering in them. You felt your heart beating in your throat as you watched him shedding a tear.

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” he whispered. He sounded so broken, so raw, you wanted to hug him and tell him that you weren’t going to leave him. “I’m gonna miss hearing your bitching about random things,” he added. You snorted. You rolled your eyes and snorted again.

“You─” You started but stopped to huff some when you heard him snickering. “You idiot.” Bucky laughed. His whole face lightened up as he threw his head back and laughed. You should have felt insulted because he was laughing at you, but he looked so happy, and you just couldn’t. You huffed a bit more. “I’m not gonna miss your dumb ass, Barnes,” you muttered. He giggled.

“C’mon,” he said. “You love my dumb ass.” He froze, thinking he fucked up, but your soft chuckle relaxed him.

“It is a nice ass,” you murmured. Bucky watched a large grin spread on your face with sparkling eyes. He chuckled, a soft blush sitting high on his cheekbones. You just grinned at him cheekily. You were so beautiful, so gorgeous, Bucky couldn’t believe he got the chance to have you in his life in a fucked up but good way. He wished so badly that he could take all the shitty things he did to you, but he knew it was too late.

He cleared his throat. He should leave, he thought, but before he could reach for the door, he felt your hand closing around the collar of his t-shirt, and he was yanked forward.

Your lips collided; soft and slick ones against the chapped and slightly cold ones. Bucky gasped as he shivered and gave into your kiss. His lips were the cold ones, so he let you warm them. He let you stroke, kiss and lick them, and in return, he swallowed all the whimpers and breathy little moans you released into his mouth.

“Baby,” Bucky panted as he pulled back slightly. One of his hands found its place on your cheek, cradling it gently. His thumb was stroking your cheekbones, touching your eye and caressing your slick lips.

“Please,” you whispered. “I─ Please, James, I-I need you, please.” You looked into his eyes with tears blurring your vision. You heard the small hitch in his breath, watched him grimacing with pain and then, he leaned in for another kiss.

Moaning in unison, you grabbed at him. You felt his arms wrapping around your waist, and he pushed you against the wall, caging you against it with his body. You whimpered. You missed having his body this close you, missed feeling his lips teasing yours and missed letting him kiss you all over.

“Mmmm,” Bucky hummed deeply as he nibbled on your neck gently. He was being careful about leaving marks since there was a graduation you had to go through, but you didn’t care. He could give you hickeys, and you’d cover them up with make-up. The only thing you cared, however, was to have him inside of you. You’ve gone without him for too long.

“Bucky…” You whispered. You heard him hum again. Your hand grabbed his hair, pulling a little, you whined lowly. “Bucky…” He hummed louder. You huffed. His teeth were worrying a flesh in his mouth, sucking and licking over it. Every puff of his breath was making the small hairs on your body to rise, making you shudder violently in his arms. “Sir…” You finally whimpered, and Bucky bit you hard.

“Yeah, love?” He asked. “What is it?” He kissed the place he bit. “Tell me.” You wiggled and exposed your throat to him even more. Humming approvingly, he placed kisses all over. “Come on, baby, tell me what you want, hm?”

“Take me to bed, please,” you whispered. “I missed you, missed having you in me, please.” You looked at him through your lashes. His eyes went dark, pupils dilating, Bucky let out a soft growl.

“That so, baby?” He murmured. You nodded. Your eyes still had some tears in them, and you felt one of them running down. Bucky’s face crumpled immediately; expression softening, he leaned in to kiss the tear away. You only held onto him tighter. “A’right,” he whispered. “Hang on tight, lil’ koala.” You smiled at the name but did as he said.

He kept peppering kisses on your face as he walked towards your bedroom and was gentle when he laid you down on your bed. He was standing between your legs, elbows supporting his weight, when he leaned in for another kiss.

This one feels a bit different, you thought. Your eyes were closed and hands were in his hair. He kissed you gently, softly even. The way he cradled your cheek in his palm was loving, and you felt new tears stinging. It was chaste, this kiss. Neither of you included tongue in it; it was only lips, your hands on each other’s faces and the intimacy.

Slowly, both of you got rid of your clothes. First, it was your t-shirt on the ground with your bra and then his t-shirt joined them, and then came out your shorts and his jeans. He let your panties and his boxers on, though. When you made a questioning hum, Bucky just smiled.

“Not yet,” he whispered. “I jus’ wanna keep on kissin’ you,” he added. You hummed happily. As much as you wanted him in you, you were definitely okay with more kissing.

─

Bucky probably should have walked away after he saw that you were doing fine. Hell, maybe he shouldn’t have come to check up on you. He was going to see you at the graduation, he could have waited for couple more hours, but he was scared that he might have missed you during the chaos and never saw you again.

He had to say proper goodbye this time.

He didn’t think you’d start things, though. It was always him who started these sort of things; it always him who kissed you first, who begged you to give in and tried to convince you to take you to the bed. Roles were reversed, today. You took the first step.

Bucky should have stopped this after the kiss. He should have pulled back. He should have thanked you, murmured his goodbye and wished you success and love in life. Instead, he kept kissing you.

This would be the last time he’d be taking you, though, he thought. After that, you were off to God knows where. He wasn’t even sure if he’d ever see you again. So, he gave in.

Kissing you and feeling you against his body were the best feeling he had ever experienced in this world, he was sure of it. Having your hands pulling on his hair, nails digging into the muscles of his back and being able to swallow your moans and whimpers into his kiss were the things he would always remember. He was going to remember the way you whined his name so prettily, the way you moaned breathily when he made you come… Bucky was going to miss these, was probably going to yearn these, but he knew he had to say goodbye.

He was no good to you. He only hurt you, made you cry. He did not deserve you.

Bucky knew that he was never going to be worthy of your love. He was too much of an asshole for that. He was going to have a very little piece from it while he could, though.

“Bucky…” You breathed. Your eyes were closed, and your face was peaceful. Bucky smiled. Kissing your cheeks, he nipped on your jaw lightly.

“Yeah, baby?” He murmured. He felt you wiggle under him.

“Wanna feel you,” you whispered. “Please? We don’t have much time, I wanna feel you.” Bucky held back a sigh. You were right; you did not have much time, and Bucky suddenly wanted to ditch the graduation and stay here with you in your bed.

“Alright, love,” he whispered back. “Okay, sssh.”

His fingers found the hem of your panties, and Bucky was gentle as he stripped you free of them. He slid off his own boxers, briefly straightening up to chuck them on the ground, he grabbed his wallet to dig out a condom.

You grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“No,” you whispered. “Can we not use it? I wanna feel you.” Bucky swallowed harshly. You wanting to feel him, wanting him to be bare in you… He was going to be pissed if this was one of those dreams.

“We don’t wanna have a baby, right now,” Bucky murmured, trying to joke a little. “We’re barely adults.” You smiled as you patted his cheeks. Bucky realized your smile looked sad. Blinking, he tried to ignore it.

“I started taking the pill again,” you said. “Just wanna feel you, come on.” Bucky nodded. He could feel his body shaking lightly; nervousness and excitement mixing with his lust. He nodded again. Pressing a kiss on your forehead, he dropped the wallet.

You pulled him into a kiss as Bucky grabbed his cock and lined it up. He greedily swallowed all the moans you released while he slid into your wetness smoothly.

“Fuck,” he moaned loudly.

The exquisite feeling of your wet and warm walls around his hard cock felt so fucking good that Bucky felt like he was about to come. It was such an intense feeling, Bucky suddenly hated the existence of the condoms. It served for an understandable reason, but it also deprived him from a sensation like this one.

“Hmm,” you mewled. “Sir, fuck, you feel so good,” you panted, then. Bucky grunted.

You should have done this before, Bucky thought, he should have taken you bare earlier even though he was sort of glad that this happened on your very last time.

“’ma move, love,” he whispered into your ear. “Can’t wait anymore.” You nodded. Your hands were holding onto his sides tightly, thighs wrapped around his waist as Bucky pulled out only to slowly slide back in.

He was going to drag your last time out as long as he could. He wanted this to last. He was not going to fuck you and be done with you, no. He did that enough in the past. He was going to feel you, now.

“Mmm, Bucky!” You whimpered. Your nails were digging in deep, but Bucky didn’t care. He wanted you to leave marks so that he could look at himself in the mirror later and touch them and cry. He let out a harsh breath as he slid in once again. “Yeah!” You cried out softly. “There, please.”

Bucky did as you said and kept hitting that spot of your repeatedly. His pace was still slow and deep, he was still trying to make it last and feel you deep in his presence. You didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you were quiet as you held onto him tightly. He could only hear your barely-audible whimpers and his name as a whisper when the thrust was particularly deep.

“You feel so good, baby,” Bucky whispered. His ears were howling, his brain was going fuzzy around the edges and he started to hear some sort of a white noise through the howling.

Bucky felt his eyes and nose burn. The feeling of your naked body against his, him being bare inside of your wetness and you holding onto him tightly… Bucky felt raw. He felt vulnerable as hell. Every place of his body where it was touching yours was on fire. It was like your skin was getting etched into his, marking him completely and forever, and Bucky was letting it happen.

“James,” you breathed silently. A soft sob ripped apart from him as he buried his face into your neck. You kissed his temple, petted his hair and stroked his back. You could hear his soft sobs, silent sniff and slight shaking of his shoulders. You kissed his temple again. You pushed him back, but he scrambled to hold you against him. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. “I’m here. Just lay back, alright?” Bucky sniffed silently and did as you said.

He leaned back against the headboard, and you climbed onto his lap. Lowering yourself onto his cock again, you held his head against your chest, allowed him to hide there.

“Sssh,” you murmured softly. His hands were on your back, holding you tightly. “It’s okay. I’m here.” You hugged like that for a short while. His sobs slowly ebbed away, but you continued to stroke his hair.

“’m sorry,” he whispered, voice croaked. You shrugged. You grabbed his face in your palms and lifted his head up. His eyes were glowing even more with some redness in them, his nose was a bit puffy like his eyes, but it was the expression that hit you hard.

It was pain. Raw, unhidden pain. His eyes were earnest as they looked into yours. You felt the oxygen trapped in your throat when you made eye contact. You shivered. It felt like his eyes were looking into the very depth of your soul, seeing and understanding your true feelings towards him. It scared you.

So, you leaned in and kissed him as a distraction. Anything to get his eyes off of you.

Bucky whimpered. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you, as he returned your kiss. His soft lips parted lightly and allowed your tongue inside. You licked into his mouth, stole another whimper and bit down on his bottom lip.

“Move,” he whispered. “Take what you want.” He gave you a chaste kiss. You exhaled shakily as you raised yourself on your knees a little only to fall back down. You moaned. Bucky peppered soft kisses on your neck. His hold on your waist was tight still, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him to ease off even though it made breathing just a tad harder.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried his face to your chest. Bucky, understanding what you were implying, took a nipple in his mouth and sucked and bit on it gently. The lazy suction and slow movements of your hips were driving you crazy. Everything felt so sharp, so deep and so scary but also so good, you felt like you were falling apart.

“Come,” Bucky whispered, pulling his mouth off your nipple. “Can feel you, come, baby.” You whined loud and long as you came on his cock. Your orgasm felt like it went for a century. Its hold took over you slowly, spread through your body from your belly like a wrecking ball, but you felt the impact into your bones. You cried out.

Whining, you kissed Bucky’s cheeks, lips and nose. “Come in me,” you panted silently. “Sir, Bucky, please, come in me. I need it─” You cut yourself off with a low moan. Bucky let out a sharp cry as his hips thrusted up into your still convulsing core. He was close. His balls were tight and full with his come. Your walls were trying to milk it away from him, he could fucking feel it.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky breathed and then moaned. You cooed at him.

“’m here. C’mon,” you continued to coo. “Come in me, Sir. Lemme feel you.”

Feeling his whole body going taut, Bucky buried a moan into the crook of your neck as he came inside of you. You sighed as Bucky let out small whimpers. You could feel his come coating your walls, and you hummed.

You stayed in that position for a while, cuddling and breathing each other in. His hands were holding you tight, fingers drawing various shapes on your body while you traced his tattoos and examined his piercings. Both of you came down from your high slowly.

You got up and rolled off of him.

“Yuck,” you whispered as you felt his come leaking out of you. Bucky smiled apologetically. “I wanted it,” you reminded him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. You walked towards the bathroom, quickly cleaning yourself. When you returned to your bedroom in a bathrobe, you saw him dressing up. “Leaving already?”

Bucky grimaced. “We only have two hours to get ready,” he murmured. His voice was soft and low. You found it soothing. “I can’t hang around too long, gotta shower and change.” You nodded. This time, it didn’t feel like an excuse to run away. Graduation was onto you both, it was understandable, but Bucky wasn’t running away.

“Okay,” you nodded. “Yeah, make sense.” Bucky nodded, too. He pulled his jeans on, fixed his t-shirt and hair and grabbed his wallet.

“I, uh,” he started, inclining his head towards the door. You let out a ‘yeah’. He smiled. You were at the door when he turned around, suddenly looking very serious.

“This was the last time I was taking you, you know that right?” Bucky asked. He wasn’t taunting, or bragging or anything. His voice was still soft and low, but he sounded like he was far away. “We’re graduating, and God knows what’s expecting us. We’re gonna have different lives and… we’re growing up.” Bucky sent you sad smile. “Maybe I shouldn’t have let you kiss me like that because I wanted to say goodbye properly, but I don’t regret it, so,” he shrugged. “Take care, will you?” With teary eyes, you looked at him. Bucky sighed. In one step, you were in his arms and hugging him tightly.

You understood what he meant. Whatever you had was for during college. The end has come; it was the graduation day, and that meant you had to leave this part of your college life behind. You didn’t want to, especially not when you were in love with him, but he was right. You were going to have different lives. You were adults for a couple years, but graduating meant that you were an official one now.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Bucky whispered and pulled back. “You’re gonna be okay and successful in your job. You’re tough like that.” He smiled, this time it was a genuine one. He leaned in and kissed your forehead. “Take care, Y/N.”

“Take care, Bucky,” you whispered. “You’re gonna be one hell of a teacher.” That pulled a startled laugh out of Bucky, and you grinned tearfully. “A badass one, too.” You eyed his tattoos. He shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess,” he murmured. “Gonna be that teacher, but it’s worth it.” Giving you a lopsided smirk, he watched you for a couple seconds. Then, he walked to the door, opening it. He looked at you before he walked out. He looked like he wanted to say something, but in the last second he decided against it. You ran to him, kissing his cheek and fixing his hair.

“Be gentle to yourself,” you murmured. Bucky nodded.

“I’ll try,” he whispered and then cleared his throat. “Um. Bye, Y/N.” You muttered a soft ‘bye’, and he was off. You closed the door and sank down. You let the tears wash your face and pain away.

─

As soon as Bucky was outside, he let out a sob. He wanted to tell you that he loved you, but he didn’t want to give you that hope and then crush it. He knew he would fuck up somehow if you were to try out a relationship. You didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve you.

Lifting his head up, looking at the sky, Bucky took a deep breath.

“Here comes the sun,” he whispered and turned on his heels.

His figure got lost in the sea of people as he walked down the street. He felt like he lost a piece of himself in them, too.

#bucky barnes x reader #fukcboy!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #fuckboy!bucky #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes blurbs #till dawn (here comes the sun)

[catzula]

It’s hard NOT to be a fangirl (especially when the setter is Oikawa Tooru)

A/N: is it evident how much in love I am with this man? I cried at his backstory, I did that. Well, uh, hope you enjoy! And I have a mountain of hw and exams coming up so I might not be able to write something so thats that.

Warnings: spoilers!!! For the spring tournament so beware. Cursing? 5.9k? Oikawa crying in the end? Its NOT angst tho. Also not edited cuz its 1 am

Genre: fluff, Iwaizumi's sister!reader

Synopsis: maybe confusing you with a fangirl wasn't exactly starting off the right foot, but Oikawa thought the stranger that sat with him till the beginning of his next match was... quite charming.

Oikawa might've been many, many things, but he was not a coward.

Most of the time, at least.

Whenever it was his feelings he had to be brave about, he never succeeded, especially not when they were towards you. You, who laughed and stood with him, never across but always beside him. Oikawa couldn't afford to be brave.

It was the first day of the Interhigh matches when he had met you. To say Oikawa was having a bad day would be an underestimation. He got dumped by his girlfriend that very day, right before his match, and brutally ripped out of the soft, consoling presence of his fans by Iwaizumi. He just wanted to be fawned over and comforted, maybe eat a snack or two while he was at it, but he didn't even get to do that?

"Stop pouting, Shittykawa." Iwaizumi muttered when Oikawa made an exaggerated 'hmph!' sound for the 20th time the last 5 minutes. "We need to go to the gym, and you need to focus."

"You need to focus too!" Oikawa protested, "but look at you getting ready to go to a date- hey, agh!" Holding the back of his head, Oikawa pouted even deeper this time. "You didn't need to hit me!" Oikawa whisper-yelled.

"I told you to shut the fuck up. Hold your tongue if you don't want to get beaten." Iwaizumi whispered angrily, sending a side glance at his coach to try and see if he had heard stupid Oikawa. Iwaizumi took a breath of relief when the coach didn't even look his way.

"We're gonna sit in the back stands so coach won't be able to see us. You can still watch the game from there, too." Iwaizumi finally spoke after they arrived in the gym, eyes scanning the room to find the perfect hiding place.

"You mean I am gonna sit in the back stands, all alone, cold and freshly dumped." Oikawa frowned, his frown only growing deeper when his best friend rolled his eyes. "Am I wrong? Tell me I'm wrong! As you go on your marry way with your girlfriend, I will be sitting here alone and wallow in my sadness for what... 6 hours?!"

Iwaizumi clenched his teeth, knowing Oikawa had a point. Sighing, he rubbed his temples. "Look, fuck, I'm sorry, okay? Should I tell her I can't come?" He asked gruffly, and despite all his brutality and harsh words, Oikawa knew he would do it if he said the word. "Nah, it's okay. Have fun in your date!" Oikawa answered, earning a baffled glare from the boy. 

"Then why the fuck have you been guilt tripping me the past hour?"

"I'm lonely, Iwa-chan! I want attention." Oikawa grinned, professionally avoiding the slap coming his way, his grin growing even wider when Iwaizumi pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. " I wonder how I didn't murder you already. Anyway, settle there, and don't move anywhere until the match. And I mean, anywhere, no visiting your fans, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror, taking selfies before the windows, nothing."

"Okay, okay, I'm not dumb!" Oikawa whined as he threw his gym bag on the free seats. "Say hi to her for me, Iwa-chan!" He called after his best friend. 

~~~

It had been almost an hour since Iwa had left, and Oikawa was losing his mind. Why did he agree to this again? He wanted to sit with the rest of his team, that sat across the court but Iwaizumi had told him not to move anywhere (and Oikawa was still a bit hurt at how grateful they seemed when Iwa had told them Oikawa would be sitting separately), so he had opted to social media. 

Oikawa wasn't aware of someone else entering the secret back stands and getting closer to him as he watched a short compilation of cat videos. "Oikawa-kun?" You approached him, hiding your snicker when he jumped in his place to look at you. He was quick to hide his shock, a mask of smugness quickly finding its place on his pretty face. 

"That's me." He smiled, his chocolate eyes scanning you and meeting your eyes back quickly. He watched as you sat a seat away from him, close but not approachable. He quirked his brow when you stood quiet, holding your phone a little too tightly. A shy fan, how sweet, he thought, smirking as he turned your way. He had an idea of what you wanted.

"Did you, perhaps, want a photo? I might not look as I normally would, though." Oikawa suggested, going by how you held your phone, checking the time every once in a while, you wanted a picture. His brows raised when you didn't say a word but bit your lip as if holding in a smile.

"That's your que to say 'no, Oikawa-kun, you look amazing!" He told you, not expecting your laugh to ring in his ears, baffled both by how sudden and how pretty the sound was. "No, you do look tired, actually." You finally answered, earning a gasp from the boy across you. 

"Oh, to think I was going to see the days of my fans calling me tired-looking and ugly!" He dramatically brought his hand to his face, peeking through his fingers to see what you were going to do. You should at least deny he looked ugly, he thought, but his eyes grew wide when you chuckled. Now you were just rude! Did he really look that bad?

"Sorry, I'm not a fan." You pressed your lips in an apologetic smile, trying to hold it sorry and not smug when you spotted the blush on his cheeks. "Oh- I thought..." He cleared his throat to hide the embarrassment. "Most of the pretty girls like you who aproach me are my fans, so I just assumed." He spoke when he finally managed to find back his high-toned, flirty persona.

"That crowd of groupies in the entrance should belong to you, too, then?" You teased, not expecting him to answer yes, bursting into laughter with the unexpected positive answer.

"I kind of have to ask, though, if you're not my fan, why did you approach me, calling my name?" He seemed nonchalant as if he was used to that, but you had to admit it was a bit creepy.

"Oh, Haji- Iwaizumi sent me." You corrected yourself when you remembered how your brother had told you not to tell Oikawa you were siblings (he had warned you about how flirtatious Oikawa could get, and he might see it as a challenge if he figured you were his best friend's sibling. You didn't think it was true, they were best friends after all, but it was better to be cautious anyway.

"Iwa-chan? Ah, so he does care after all!" Oikawa blurted out, his words reminding how your brother had sent you here and how it was something way different than caring. "Well, he did want me to make sure you didn't leave here or call your ex. Heard you had some... problems."

"Cold as a stone, as always." He sighed, and you chuckled. "Can't exactly call it a problem, but being dumped isn't the best feeling in the world." He shrugged, taking a sip out of his water before flashing you a charming smile. Your brows furrowed when he admitted he was dumped, of course, Hajime had already told you that, but judging the boy by his looks, his nonchalant acts, and everything your brother had told to warn you, you hadn't expected him to admit that, especially not to a stranger. 

"Well, uh, that sucks." You answered awkwardly, not knowing how to approach the situation. "I'm sorry about that."

"Its okay, as it was bound to happen, anyway. Our relationship wasn't exactly sailing smoothly." He shrugged, but it was evident he was a bit broken about it. "I- uh, I'm not the person people would come for advice in these kind of situations, but I can... listen?"

You felt something warm blooming in your chest when his gaze locked on you, chocolate brown eyes the prettiest you've ever seen, but the surprised, almost grateful look was what made you feel that way. Did he only want someone to listen?

"It's okay, I don't want to burden you with my stupid problems." He chuckled, pulling his playful nature back on the surface. "I don't even know your name."

"Oh, shit, you're right!" You laughed when you realized you hadn't even told him your name but had offered a shoulder to cry on. "I'm Y/N, nice to meet you." You stuck your hand out, his warm (big-) hand gripping yours and causing that warm feeling that was in your chest to spread even more.

"Y/N-chan, it's very nice to meet you." He winked. "So, what is your relationship with our dearest Iwa-chan?"

"Oh- well, uh... you could say he sees me as a sister." You shrugged, not expecting him to pout sympathetically. "Oh no, sibling-zoned? That's harsh, man."

"No it's- hey, you have no right to pity me, you're the one freshly dumped!"

"Hitting low, are we?" He laughed, making you laugh with him. "You look like you're gonna die if you don't ask me how we broke up." He sighed after a second, although he still had a playful smirk. "I guess I have to tell you." He sighed one more time. "We're stuck here for at least 5 hours, anyway."

~~~

"Here you go, a granola bar. Are you sure you didn't want anything else?" You tossed the granola bar to Oikawa, who had his legs on the seats in front of him, making himself comfortable in the uncomfortable seats.

"Yeah, that's enough. Thank you, Y/N-chan." He smiled cheekily, opening the packet with his teeth. "The match is in about an hour, anyway, I shouldn't eat much."

"Sure, whatever you say. Well you were talking about a new player before I left."

"Before your stomach started to scream, you mean." He laughed, and you found yourself watching the smile. These past few hours had flown by so quickly that it almost felt like barely an hour. Oikawa was easy to talk to, and you always found something new to talk about, laughing almost at everything he said. He was really charming, and the confidence that oozed out of every move he did, every word he spoke was attractive, you had to admit.

But as much of a smug player he could be, he often acted childish, too, especially when he talked about a certain Kouhei of his did you see the childlike jealousy and competitiveness clearly. Though despite that, he would have a fond, soft look in his eyes whenever he talked about his teammates, making you feel almost jealous at how affectionate he looked about them.

You knew he was charming and flirtatious, your brother had warned you not to get close because he could and would have you falling for him in no time, but you had underestimated him. You had thought he was acting overly cautious as always, but apparently not.

You saw him checking his phone for a new message. "I gotta go warm up now." He told you as he stood up, the playful glint in his eyes not being missed by you. "I trust you'll watch and cheer for me, right, Y/N-chan?" His smirk was self-satisfied, already knowing the answer, but you didn't want to give him the pleasure. "I'd rather cheer for the ace, actually, much cooler than a setter."

Another dramatic gasp came from the proud setter, making you laugh. "How dare you! Setters are much cooler than aces, I'll have you know. I'll prove it in this match, too." He leaned towards you, and although you already knew how long he was, having him towering over you like this sent goosebumps down your spine. "I'll prove it, just make sure you watch closely." 

~~~

"So, was I right or was I right?" Your phone chimed with a new message, and you instantly knew who it was that sent the message. You opened Instagram, accepting the message request. 

"I couldn't tell since I was watching the ace the whole time, didn't have the chance to see if you were cooler." You texted back, almost able to see the pout forming on his lips on the other side of the screen. It was a lie, too. The moment you saw his serve, you were unable to take your eyes off him. He looked like a different person on the court. It was almost scary, how focused he suddenly became the moment he grabbed the ball, how he was aware of everything that was happening around him, developing strategies half you didn't even understand and it was terrifyingly beautiful, you had to admit. 

"Mean! And I had played exceptionally well just because you were watching :(" You giggled at the text, not noticing how your brother's eyes were narrowed and turned to you instead of the TikToks his girlfriend had sent him. "Who are you talking to?"

"Hm?" You flinched, so concentrated on your phone, you had forgotten your brother was there, too. "Oh, no one. My friend sent me a meme." You stared back at your brother, who was still watching you with narrowed eyes, waiting for you to crack, but you didn't. He nodded curtly, and though he could've pursued it further if not for his phone starting to buzz, the name of his girlfriend appearing on the screen. 

"Gotta take this." He told you, standing up and making his way to his room. "Don't stay up late texting." He told you as a warning. 

You wished you had taken your brother's advice the next morning when he came in to wake you up. You had texted Oikawa for hours into the night, only stopping when you fell asleep mid-conversation.

"Y/N, I need you to come to the sport center again, today." Hajime told you as you were brushing your teeth, and he was putting gel in his hair to make it look like his signature spiky style. "Again?" You rolled your eyes, earning a soft slap on your head from your brother. 

"Don't talk with your mouth full, and don't roll your eyes at me."

"I'll do whatever I- Ow! Okay, okay, I'll be there!" You muttered angrily, but a part of you, the smallest part of you, wasn't as angry as you showed him to be. 

~~~

You were there before him, this time. It had been almost 10 minutes since you had arrived, but Oikawa was nowhere to be seen (and you got ready especially neatly this time! What a shame). You sighed, opening your phone to text Hajime Oikawa wasn't here just as you felt a pair of warm hands closing your eyes from your back. 

"Quick, tell me the coolest volleyball position!"

"Ace!" You answered and heard his exaggerated sigh. "No, Y/N-chan, I thought we clarified this yesterday!"

"I never admitted to it, though." You told him with a sly smile, causing his fake anger and annoyance to fall and a laugh to breakthrough. "Clever little Y/N-chan." He muttered, plopping down to the seat next to you. 

"You look tired." You remarked, making him gasp. "And whose fault is that? You fell asleep! I waited an hour for you to write back, thinking you had something else to do." He frowned, making you chuckle.

"I take none of the blame, you talk too much." You teased.

"Only with people I like." He shot back, catching you off guard and making your eyes widen. "Ah, finally, I won this round!" He cheered. "You, on the other hand, look especially nice today, madame."

"Thank you, kind sir, I got a good night sleep, unlike you." You smiled cheekily, and he was about to answer before loud cheering filled the room and made you wince. You noticed how almost everyone was on their feet, watching the game closely.

"What's going on?" You asked the boy sitting next to you, now also watching the game with a Cheshire cat smirk.

"Karasuno's game started." He answered without taking his eyes off the game. "It was the freakish quick they used just then that caused the cheering."

"The freakish quick?" You repeated. 

"Yeah, watch." He told you, sounding excited and annoyed at the same time. You turned your eyes to where he was pointing at, a short, ginger boy. Your brows furrowed, trying to understand just why- 

"Oh, shit." You gaped when the boy flew over the court in mere seconds. The ball was on the other side of the net in almost less than a second, and it took you a moment to realize they had just made a spike.

"Oh shit, indeed," Oikawa answered, his smirk still on his lips, but his eyes weren't looking humored. "That little bastard, he had to be this fucking talented." He muttered, speaking almost to himself. 

"You don't look worried, though." You smiled. "There is no reason for me to be worried." He smirked proudly in answer, although it had a slight waver to it. "I'm much better than him as a setter. What worries me is the team itself."

"Are they that good? You looked much better in the match yesterday."

"Ah, I knew you were watching me, Y/N-chan! I'm too pretty not to look at." He swiped a soft-looking lock of hair out of his face with a playful smile. 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." You muttered, hiding your embarrassment from him by turning back to the game. "See him, the short boy in the back, he's the libero." Oikawa told you, getting slightly closer to explain, and you would've understood it if it wasn't for how close he was all of a sudden. "He's one of the best I've seen, actually."

"W-what makes him so special?" You asked, turning your eyes back to the game from his pretty face (as if he wasn't handsome enough, he also had a good side profile?!) "That." he answered, his eyes glinting with something you could say awe. You turned back to the boy who leaped to the ground after the ball, his hand sliding over the surface and sending the ball straight up. "His reflexes are unbeleivable, and he's fast and smart, like the rest of his team." He explained further, not aware of how focused he suddenly was, and it was clear he was passionate about the sport. You had never understood why your brother felt devastated after a lost game, or why he was cheering on the top of his lungs, sometimes pushing himself so hard in training that he passed out, coming home late almost every day because of his practice.

But seeing Oikawa watch the game, seeing him in the game, you felt like you could understand what it was. You could never grasp the feeling, but you could understand what it was. And it was infuriating, made you jealous, and you couldn't understand why, but it also amazed you, making you yearn for the strange feeling.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must be boring you to death." He realized, bringing his hand to scratch the back of his neck in embarrassment, cheeks flushing slightly after talking for almost an hour about everything going in the game, explaining them all in detail. 

"No, no its fine!" You answered, laughing at his flushed face. It was funny how he was a charming, devilish, smart, and manipulative guy at one second and a volleyball geek the other. "It helps me appreciate the game better." You shrugged, not aware of how his eyes glinted with your answer. "But don't you think I realized how you're overlooking everything the setter does. You didn't say anything about him."

"What, you're interested in him?" He pouted, causing you to laugh. 

"I didn't say I was interested, I'm just telling you you're ignoring him!" You protested after your laugh, but he still had a frown. "Sounds like you're interested, to me."

"No! Okay, okay, keep ignoring him, then. But don't think I missed the jelaousy-" You couldn't finish your sentence because of a sudden hand closing on your lips. "Nope, we don't say that here." He whispered, and somehow, you were able to hear him despite the loud cheering, the crowd, and the loud thumps of your heart.

"What, saying you're jealous?" You spoke beneath his fingers, noticing how his smirk grew wider and cheeks flushing pinker.

"Yep, let's not repeat that and I'll take my hand off you." He waited a few seconds as you stood silent, removing his hand, still having a suspicious look in his eyes. "Good girl." He told you, causing your eyes to widen and shout a protest. "O-oikawa! What the fuck?!"

"What, I didn't mean anything?" He answered innocently, but there was still a smirk on his lips. "Well, okay, I'll tell you about him if you're so curious." He sighed.

"As I said before, he's my Kouhei." You nodded for him to go on. "He's... talented. Very talented. A genius, actually." He laughed uncomfortably. "He's not on my level yet, but his talent... it even makes up for it and I hate to see how despite all my days I spent training, he's still better than me easily."

"I- oh." You muttered, not expecting something like this, especially for him to admit someone else was better than him and will always be better than him.

"Tomorrow we're playing with them." He told you, and despite the forced smile, you could see how he clenched his teeth. "I can't- I won't lose to him."

"You won't." You agreed.

"I'll fight as hard as I can but we won't lose to them. I'll fight Shiratorizawa, I'll play against Ushiwaka and show him, prove him I did the right thing by choosing Seijoh and not his dumb school." He looked determined, eyes glinting with such determination that even though you had no idea what he was saying at that point, you wanted to agree and cheer him on.

"You will." You agreed once again, causing him to smile. "I'm sorry, I think I'm just a bit stressed."

You smiled, shrugging as if to say it's nothing. "No, no problem, I understand what you mean. It must be nerve-wracking."

"Well, it is."

"I'm horrible at advice, but uh, want me to show you what I do when I'm stressed? Like before exams and stuff. It might help." You smiled, extending your hand out to show him, not expecting him to do the same, and hold your hand like a handshake.

"You're right, that does help." He grinned, shaking your hand and making you burst into laughter. "That wasn't what I was going to do!"

"Oh, it wasn't? Still helped, though!" He told you innocently, teasing you even more. "C'mon, stick your hand out like this." You giggled.

"Now start drawing-" you told him, focusing on drawing shapes and letters in his hand. He was going to say a snarky remark at how that wasn't how it went, but Oikawa couldn't bring himself to stop you from doing whatever you were doing as he watched you focus on his hand, fingers running over his calloused ones, the tip of your tongue sticking out from the corner of your mouth without realizing, and every move of your finger sent goosebumps down his body.

Noticing you had lost yourself in thought, absent-mindedly going on drawing on his hand for a good few minutes, you raised your eyes to meet his brown ones. "Does that... help?"

"It- uh, it does. I'll need you to do this before the game tomorrow, too, though." He smirked playfully, his hand closing on yours just as he said it. "Well, I'm glad I could help." You shrugged, trying to hide how embarrassed you were. You could tell he already knew how you were feeling by the smile on his lips, but instead of teasing you about it, he turned to the game without letting your hand go, smiling even wider when you didn't pull it, either.

~~~

"You guys were great at the game today." You texted Oikawa that night, not sure whether he would answer, though your thoughts disappeared when he texted back instantly. 

"It must be your doing." He wrote, sending a picture of him doing the peace sign right after. 

"I don't think I can come early tomorrow, though. I won't be able to do it again. Are you ready for the game tomorrow?"

"Oh no, how could you? I can never overcome the stress now. Will you let me call you if I say I'm not ready?" He texted back, making you chuckle. 

"Just this once."

Your phone started ringing right after, a 'yahoo' greeting you when you picked it up.

"Hi, Oikawa-kun."

"Are you free?" He asked, and you shrugged as if he was across you and not on the other side of the phone. "I was getting ready to bed."

"Thinking of me before bed, you must have a crush on me, Y/N-chan." He chuckled, somehow still able to tease you through the phone. "Hey, I-"

"No, actually, don't answer that." He stopped you. "I had something else in mind when I called you, but you cute voice is too distracting." He sighed. 

"Oh." You answered, making him laugh, his laugh ringing in your ears. 

"Yeah, well... I was wondering, I mean after the match tomorrow." He cleared his throat. "No, actually, will you cheer for me tomorrow?" He finally asked, and you could tell he was holding his breath.

"Cheer for you?" You repeated.

"Yeah, only- only for me." He spoke, this time merely a whisper. "I mean, of course you cheer for me, everyone does because I'm that-"

"Yes, Oikawa." You laughed and cut his self appreciating ramble off. "I'll cheer for you, and only you."

"Y-you will? Well then, maybe you'll accept my offer to perhaps grab a coffee or something after the game? To make up for not being there with me tomorrow?" You were trying to stifle a laugh at how unsmooth he was despite his reputation when he spoke again. "Am I- am I pushing it? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." 

"No, you're not making me uncomfortable!" You protested quickly, already aware of how dramatic he could get. "I'm just, well, surprised. But yes, I'd like to grab a coffee with you. Anywhere but those god awful stands, actually." You chuckled, hearing the relieved breathe coming from his side of the line. 

"Well, if that's settled," he spoke, and you could hear the smile in his voice. "Tell me, Y/N-chan, what's your favorite color?"

Wow, you thought, he really sucked at flirting. 

~~~

"I'm here." You texted both your brother and Oikawa. It was merely minutes away from the start of the game, all because of a dumb chemistry quiz you had at school. You finally found a free seat when you noticed they were done warming up and were getting ready.

"Good, we're about to start the game. I'll probably meet my gf after the game, so don't start crying if you don't see me." Was the first text you got, rolling your eyes at how much of an idiot your brother was. "Yeah, whatever, not like I'm here to see you." You texted back, noticing how his head perked up when he read the text, eyes scanning the seats to find you as he texted a "WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?!"

"Wish me luck, Y/N-chan, just remember your promise to cheer for me ;p" Oikawa texted back, also raising his head to search you in the crowd, but he was successful at finding you, eyes locking for a second, of course, he sent a playful wink at you.

The game started after that, and you could swear you were losing years of your life with each given and taken points. You had screamed at the top of your lungs at one point, so worked up, you sometimes forgot what was happening.

"Oikawa, good serve!" You screamed (he had told you to say that when he was serving the day before, and you could see it immediately brought a smile on his lips). 

The third set was the worst, you thought. No one ever got to widen the point gap, always one of them at match point, points being given and being taken, and you were sure you were going to lose your mind if they-

You watched as Oikawa ran to receive a ball, running so fast that he was unable to stop himself from crashing into the table, falling on his bad knee that you could only imagine how much it hurt, but not before pointing at Hajime, your brother, the ace. He set an incredible ball for him, incredible even for someone like you who didn't know anything other than the basics about volleyball.

You could feel tears swelling in your eyes as he tumbled into the table, pulling himself back up almost immediately and limping back towards the court.

He was... he was determined to win. 

But he couldn't.

You watched as Oikawa tried to receive the ball flying towards him and failed. You couldn't watch when he realized he failed. He lost. But he was still there to make his teammates gather for the lineup, patting them on the back to cheer them up, thanking the crowd, but his face was down, helping his teammates collect themselves back, your brother too when he was also devastated inside.

Still, Oikawa managed to hold it all in, unlike your brother and most of the team that was crying. You couldn't hide your disappointment in, either, eyes already wet with tears because you thought they were going to win, and they thought they were going to win too, and seeing Oikawa like this, it hurt. You watched them as they left the court, your eyes following the brunette who had separated himself from the rest of the team, going somewhere else with a quick pace. 

You rose to your feet without even realizing it, running after him without thinking what to say or to do, but you just wanted to be there, and you were so focused on finding him that you hadn't realized Hajime following his friend or rather, you, either. 

You were about to enter the room Oikawa had entered a minute before you when someone held you by the arm and pulled you back. "Y/N, don't." Your brother warned you, and maybe you should've listened since they were friends for years. "It's not- you shouldn't go in, not right now. Give him time." 

He sighed when you freed your arm from his grip. "He wouldn't want you to-" the door shut in his face, and he only got a glimpse of his best friend's tear-stricken face, "-see him like that." Iwaizumi finished his sentence as a whisper to himself.

You thought this might've been a bad idea the moment you entered the room. "O-oikawa?"

"What are you doing here?" You heard him say, the room dim-litted, making it near impossible to see his expression, but something in you told you, you didn't want to. "I'm- well, I'm here to see if you're okay-"

"Get out." You heard him say, merely a whisper but still there. "I don't want you to see me like this, stop looking at me! I don't want to see the same pity I see at everyone else's face, pitying me for losing to my own Kouhei and-" His voice getting higher and higher with each word, he was almost screaming the last few words. So you hugged him, you didn't know what led you to do so, was it instinct to relieve his tension? You didn't know, but it still worked, you noticed. 

His stiff muscles started to relax with the sudden contact, and though he stood as still as a stone, not hugging you back, you didn't feel rejected. "Shh, I know." You whispered, breathe brushing over his skin and sending goosebumps down his spine. 

"We lost." He whispered, a sob finding its way out of his lips. His arms came up, hugging and pulling you to himself, almost as if he tried to swallow you whole, burying his face to your hair. He was big, much bigger than you, for sure, so the sobs that shook him shook you, too, but you didn't mind. 

"We lost." He sobbed again, and again, and again and again. It took him a while to let it all out, but he felt better when he did. His arms were still around you when his cries had died, your scent affecting him to relax.

"Thank you." You heard him whisper as he pulled back, not looking in your eyes once. "Of- of course." You shrugged, feeling somewhat awkward as he wiped his face with a tissue. 

"Well," he spoke, looking in your eyes for the first time for what felt like hours, "that's me. The Oikawa Tooru. Now you know me better than almost anyone else." He shrugged, trying to sound and look indifferent but failing miserably. His voice and his hands shaking, eyes looking at you with almost fear.

"Are you going to leave now?"

"Leave?" You repeated. 

He shrugged. "Now that you've seen I'm not the clever captain or the charming playboy, but a- an insecure, jealous man, who is now also a failure, are you going to leave?"

"Oikawa," you whispered, noticing he was more insecure than he let on. "Just because you are more than what you look like, it doesn't cancel the others. You're still the smart, cunning, and amazing captain, the charming flirt who made me fall for him in mere days, and the man who lost a match with a point. A man, striving to be better than everyone else, with goals and a purpose in life. I don't think I could leave you for having a purpose in life." You chuckled. 

"Well, that of course if you-" Before you got to finish, you felt pressure on your lips, stopping you from talking. It was his soft lips, this time, making you silent. It was a soft kiss, his hand cupping your cheek and pulling your face towards his, his lips were almost brushing yours, but it still felt heavenly. 

"I think we should go before your brother marches in and kills us both." He whispered to your lips with a sly smile. "Yeah, I think you're- wait, you knew he was my brother?!" You exclaimed, making him chuckle.

"Of course I did, who do you take me for? I am the clever captain of Seijoh, I knew it the moment you told me you were like a sister to him."

"Well, the clever captain of Seijoh, use your brain to find us another way out but the door, since I'm pretty sure Haji is guarding it." 

"Ah, I have the perfect idea." He snickered, picking up his phone, and entering the name of Hajime's girlfriend.

"Tooru, where are you, are you okay, do you-"

"Hey, hey, I'm alright, I just need a favor." Oikawa whispered into the phone. "I'm stuck inside a room, and the door is being guarded by Iwa-chan whose waiting to kill me, so please get him out of here?"

"Tooru, are you with a girl?" You heard the voice screaming on the other end of the line, making you both wince. "Please just help me just this once?" 

You heard her sigh. "Okay, okay, hang in there." She closed the phone, and it took only two seconds for your brother's phone to ring.

You were in awe when Hajime suddenly screamed, "What?! Whose checking you out? I'm fucking coming baby, don't move anywhere." sprinting down the hall.

"You're a magician." 

"I'm amazing." He muttered right before leaning in for yet another kiss, smiling against your soft lips.

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #oikawa x reader #oikawa imagine #oikawa scenarios #oikawa tooru x reader #hq oikawa #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa fluff #hq x reader #hq imagines #hq x you #haikyuu!!

[shawnpetermuffins]

In Case You Didn't Know

(Based off In Case You Didn't Know by Brett Young)

Summary: Shawn's so in love with you, but he doesn't know how to say it.

A/n: this is all over the place, theres time jumps and flashbacks and no real distinction between them, so yeah. I actually really like this song and I might end up writing some more stories based off songs, so let me know if you want that.

Requested: no

Warnings: just fluff

***

I can't count the times / I almost said what's on my mind / but I didn't

She's sleeping soundly on the couch, head laying on the arm rest, blanket up to her shoulders. She's absolutely beautiful, I think to myself. Her hair falls messily in her face, lips parted with a soft snore, and even though she's covered, I know her arms are wrapped around her middle in an attempt to keep warm in this arctic apartment of mine. I make a mental note to turn on the heater after I take her up to bed. She couldn’t even make it through half of the movie before her eyes became heavy, and if I was interested in watching the movie, I wouldn’t have even noticed, but I was watching her the whole time. It’s the first time I’ve been able to see her this way, completely exhausted from studying for her exams, hair a mess, face bare and slightly red and blotchy from stress crying.

I want so badly to wake her sleeping figure and tell her to just quit, come on the road with me for the second leg of tour. I’ll take care of everything; I’ll take care of her. Anything she wants, it’s hers, no questions asked. But I can’t tell her that. Because no matter how stressed she is now, I know it doesn’t change how incandescently happy she is when she talks about her favorite class, her favorite professor. The way she talks about all the things she’s going to change when she finishes school.

Just the other day / wrote down all the things I’d say / but I couldn’t / I just couldn’t

Being with her only a few months, eight to be exact, I keep finding myself refraining from telling her how I feel. And I know that being on tour for six out of the eight months we’ve been together is definitely taking a toll on her, and me too. I’m never here when she needs me, and to see her the way she is right now, I know that I can’t keep these feelings from her much longer.

Because if she’s crying over a test that she’s about to take when I am here, I’m scared to know what she cries about when I’m not. Does she cry about me? About me not being here? When I left before, she held in the tears - so did I - but we’d only been together a month. Maybe she didn’t want to seem too attached. I know I didn’t, but Brian knows how much leaving her put me in this week long funk. I called and texted her constantly until I realized that doing that only made it even harder to be away from her. So I calmed a bit, not by choice, but by necessity.

Seeing her sleeping so peacefully, now curled in my sheets, hugging my pillow, I can’t help but smile. I could write a million songs just about this moments alone, and that’s exactly what I go back to the living room to do. To write yet another song about the girl in my bed, hoping and praying that she’ll still be there come daybreak.

Baby I know that you’ve been wondering / mmm, so here goes nothing / in case you didn’t know / baby I’m crazy ‘bout you

Sheets of paper litter the top of the piano, the coffee table, literally any surface that was once clear isn't now. I'm scribbling out a new lyric, and start strumming the melody that's been stuck in my head since she fell asleep next to me.

My mind is a jumbled mess. She has me feeling every possible emotion and I can't convey it in just one song. So every new idea gets written down and I hope I'll find a place for it in another song later. I'm going crazy, my mind working faster than my hand can write, and the song doesn't sound right with the guitar riff, but then it doesn't sound right with the piano. It's all wrong. None of it is good enough for her and I need it to be good enough.

And I would be lying if I said that I could live this life without you / even though / I don't tell you all the time / You had my heart a long, long time ago / in case you didn't know

I know it hasn't even been a year and I sound like a love sick puppy. And that if you ask anyone that doesn't know me personally, they'd say that this relationship is all for show. That I'm doing it for the publicity. That she's getting paid. None of it's true.

She's everything I have ever wanted. Ever needed. And its so hard for me to think back to even just nine months ago. I wonder how I did anything before her. How did I cope with my anxiety when she wasn't there coaxing me through it, lulling me back to reality and not the fucked up place my mind always wandered to?

If I can't think back to nine months ago, before she became my everything, how am I supposed to look forward and not see her in every possible situation that I could be put it?

The way you look tonight / that second glass of wine / that did it, mmm

Dinner at her apartment is everything. Except she won't let me actually cook. She's scared I'll burn the building down. Which, to be fair, could very well happen. So I'm only allowed to cut things, and of course pour her wine. She's stirring the rice while I sit at the little bar area, head resting in my hand while I stare lovingly at her. Her cheeks are slightly pink from both the heat from the stove and from the glass of red she's sipping from.

"You're staring," she says softly, and looks over at me.

I clear my throat and look down at my half empty glass, "Sorry. Can't help it. You're just so pretty."

She looked down at her outfit, and squinted skeptically at me. "Jeans and a two-sizes-too-big flannel? Oh yeah, I'm sure I look real cute," she replies sarcastically, with a disbelieving eye roll.

"You do," I say, matter-of-factly. "With you hair pulled up like that," I gesture to pony tail that was currently falling because she didn't wrap the rubber band around enough. "And your eyes just being as beautiful and bright as ever. How could I not stare at you forever?"

This causes her to become even more red, if that's possible, and I pull out my phone, swiftly snapping a picture of her because she is just so pretty and I want to see her like this forever.

"Stop it!" She whines, turning away from me.

"But you look so cute," I say, turning my phone around so she can see the vibrant blush on her cheeks.

She just shakes her head and takes another sip. I can't help but watch the way her lips curve around the lip of the glass, and my whole body tingles at the promise of those lips touching mine later.

There was something 'bout that kiss/ girl it did me in / got me thinking / I've been thinking

I pull her body close to mine when she puts the dishes in the sink. "Thank you for tonight," I mumble into her shoulder.

She hums and her hands cover mine on her stomach. "You're welcome bub. So glad you could make some time for a meal this week. I was starting to think you didn't eat," she says teasingly.

I manage a small apology, pressing my lips to the soft skin of her collar bone. I know I've been literally everywhere but with her this week and it's been killing me. But even just a night like this was enough to make me forget about all my stress up to this point.

She turns her head to face me and plays with my currently overfluffy curls. "I adore you, my little rockstar," she whispered into my hair.

I look up at her with a sleepy smile and hooded eyes. I only have a second to react before her lips press to mine in a soft, passionate kiss. And all I can think is that I could stay this way for the rest of my life and never get tired of the feel of her lips.

One of those things that I've been feeling / mmm, it's time you hear 'em

I'm still watching her as we wash the dishes together. She's washing, I'm drying. It's the simplest of systems, but it's also so domesticated and it makes me sad knowing that I can't give her that domestic life one day. Husband a d kids, nice suburban home to come to every night. I'm traveling too often to give her that simple life that she so desperately deserves, even though she's told me before that she doesn't care about that.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asks after washing the last plate, handing it to me. I smile sheepishly at the way she's leaning against the counter, one leg crossed in front of the other, hands playing with the neck of her shirt.

I finish drying the plate before I speak. I place the towel I was holding on the counter and reach for her hands. "Can I tell you something, pumpkin?"

You've got all of me / I belong to you / yeah you're my everything / in case you didn't know

"Anything," she squeezes my hands reassuringly.

I can't look into her eyes, so I stare at our linked hands and sigh contently at the feel of her small, soft, cold hands in my large, calloused, hot hands. I don't know why telling her this is so hard for me, it shouldn't be. I write about love all the time.

But I've never felt it. Not like this. Not when my heart feels like it's literally about to burst out of my chest when she smiles at me. Not when I can't help but stumble on my way to her because I'm staring so hard that I trip over my own feet. Not when an interviewer asks me what my favorite thing about going home is and my immediate thought is her. She's my home. Whether we live together or not. She's it. She's my everything and that's fucking terrifying. I never thought I would become this dependent on someone else.

"Bub, what's going on inside that beautiful head of yours?" She asks, breaking me from my own thoughts, trying to catch my eye.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat and finally meet her intense gaze. If I had to decipher what that look meant, I'd say she was looking at me the same way I look at her. With that endless amount of love, lust, compassion, and adoration that my expression hopefully conveys. Why she chose me of all the people to be with, I'll never know. But she did. So I say it.

"I love you," I finally manage to say, but it's so low I don't even know if she heard me.

She doesn't respond for a while and I'm searching her face for any sign that it'll give me, saying that I crossed a line, that we weren't ready. But just as I'm opening my mouth to apologize, her lips cover mine, tongue slipping effortlessly into my mouth. And I hold her body tight against me, so tight I don't think she can breathe properly, but she makes no move to leave my arms and I have no intention of letting her go. So I hold her while we kiss under the harsh light of her kitchen and I let out a low whimper when she goes to ultimately pull away.

"Say it again," she begs.

And I do, kissing her cheek. "I love you." Her nose, "I love you." Her forehead, "I love you." And finally, once again. Her lips. "I love you."

She sighs, eyes fluttering shut while her fingers trace my jaw and then the curves of my mouth, my nose. "I love you, too." She kisses both of my eyelids before she says it again. "I love you so much."

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @bbellbagel @turtoix @tomshufflepuff @ivegotparticulartaste

I've literally been writing this since February and it's not even the way I wanted it 🤷‍♀️ but I hope you guys enjoyed reading it. A little fluff to counteract with the angst I gave y'all on Wednesday.

Like, reblog, and leave feedback!! 💙

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes one shot #shawn peter raul #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #smfsource

[dxmedstudent]

What is your impression/impression of your colleagues towards physician associates, particularly American PAs that come to work in the UK? I'm currently exploring options as my husband can transfer to the UK for his work. We've both always wanted to live abroad for a time. However, as I look more deeply into the interwebs, I get the feeling that PAs, particularly American, aren't well received. Thoughts?

Hello! Long time no see. Sorry for the late reply. I actually went back to forums and had a re-read after getting this ask because I wanted to present the arguments (whether wrong or right) that I saw. I hope it helps, though I want you to remember that not everyone feels this way; people who don’t have any strong feelings just don’t bother debating things like this online. In real life, I’ve heard very little negativity about PAs from other doctors. I think most feel pretty neutral about the whole thing. But I don’t want to sweep things under the carpet. Personally, I’ve only ever worked with doctors’ assistants (more limited duties, mostly helping out with odd jobs, bloods etc, no clerking) but I have no problem with the idea of PAs, as long as their role is clearly defined so that everyone gets what they need. One of my good friends from biomed went to PA school after graduating, and I think she’s having great fun. So I want to approach this with the attitude that PAs are our people, too.  I’ll be honest, the topic of PAs seems to still be pretty be divisive amongst the medical community, from what I’ve seen on the big junior doctor forums. I’d say that there are people who are very pro-PAs, and others who are less enthusiastic. Though the reasons why are complex.

I don’t think the reception is anything to do with people being American, in the sense that i’ve never seen PAs’  nationalities be described as an issue. Despite occasional jibes, Americans are generally well liked here, and I’ve never overheard negative comments about a colleague’s Americanness. Is that a word? Feels like it should be. I’m actually sure US PAs might even be assumed to recevie a more comprehensive one than our own, if only because our own PA profession is very recent; we didn’t have PAs at all when I was younger. US-based training tends to be well-respected, as far as I know. The reasons for tensions between doctors and PAs here are many. First of all, PAs are a very recent invention. They have only been around for several years in the NHS. As such, we have a system that was built without their role, meaning that in order to have PAs at all, we need to make sure to carve out a role that does justice to what PAs can do, without taking away important opportunities from senior nurses/nurse prescribers/ANPs and junior doctors.This means that a lot of hospitals structure the role very differently, hence what a PA at one hospital does might not be the same as what a PA at another hospital does. This means if anyone wants to be a PA in the UK, it’s worth really shopping around, if you can, to see if you can get the most support and best role for you. I’d be really careful to make sure that the role made it clear what support is available for decisionmaking. PAs should have oversight from at least a registrar, ideally. I’ll come back to this later, but if anyone is making clinical decisions, it’s important that they are supported appropriately; I’m against giving nurses or paramedics or PAs or pharmacists prescribing privileges, just enough responsibiltiy to get them into trouble, but not giving people the right support for if they aren’t sure what to do. As a doc, having senior support is a big part of my job, and I think any one of my clinical colleagues deserves this, particularly if the government are trying to save money by getting them to do more doctors’ jobs so they don’t have to hire as many docs. And where PAs have in theory to get more junior docs to sign off on their decisions, lots of juniors aren’t comfortble with that idea. Because you generally have to be a bit more experienced before you can take repsonsibiltiy for others and their work. An FY1 or FY2 ‘supervising’ a PA wouldn’t be appropriate for either. And deep down msot of us docs feel that bringing in more ANPs, bringing in PAs, allowing pharmacists and paramedics and nurses to prescribe, a lot of it isn’t ultimately created with the interests of the clinician in mind. Ultimately the government does everything it does to save itself money, and given what they put junior doctors through in recent years, we are very, very bitter and wary with ANY government scheme. A lot of people worry  that bringing in PAs is just a way of the government trying to provide people to do doctor jobs on the cheap, without supporting them or training them up properly. And given that they’ve structured nurse training in such a way that trusts try to get by with as few senior nurses as possible, because it’s cheaper to have lots of HCAs and lower band nurses, I think all NHS workers have reason to be wary.   I’m going to spend most of this post outlining some of the issues that people have brought up in various threads, which aren’t necessarily issues I myself share, but I feel I have to discuss why some people are still adjusting to PAs cropping up. Not all doctors like the way having PAs works in practice, at least where they have worked. Some people grouse about the pay, because some of the PA slots advertised give a higher salary than you get for the frist several years of being a junior doctor, whilst most of them don’t do nights or oncalls, and have to take less clinical responsibility.  On the surface, it doesn’t seem fair; why should someone working better hours, and taking less legal responsibility be paid more? But I don’t believe in bringing everything down to the lowest common denominator; if anything, it should be an argument for better pay for nurses, doctors, physios, pharmacists etc.  In reality, I suspect they have made a few posts that pay unusually well to entice senior nurses to train up as PAs, and sort of get the ball rolling. The numbers are much smaller than the number of docs and nurses, so they can afford to pay more. Also, my colleagues have a point that that’s a PA’s final salary and that the job role is more limited, whereas junior docs (in our system, at least), get to train up to do different things, and eventually earn more.  Some act like PAs get a bad deal, others are envious; I think both jobs can be good if you’re the right person for that job. I’m sure it’s a better role for some people. Now, a small part of me can see why my colleagues are concerned. When you’re stressing about fulfilling the things you NEED for training, because otherwise your deanery and seniors will totally make out that you’re an inadequate doctor, it puts a lot of pressure on you to get your procedures and cases signed off.  I’ll be honest; medical training as a doctor once you graduate in the UK is minimal; we do our own exams. We have to arrange our own attendance at clinics (which is compulsory), we have to make sure we can get to compulsory teaching. We have to make our own opportunities to do the procedures we need to do to get signed off, see the cases we need, etc. We need to mke our own opportunities for audits, publications, etc. Apart from the occasional nice senior, literally nobody helps you to get all the things you absolutely need to do done. And that’s on top of the usual ward rounds, saving lives, dealing with pts and relatives thing, whilst often being extremely busy and understaffed. And rotating around every few months, so that nobody in the hospitals you work at Junior doctors are genuinely exhausted, overworked, and scrabbling around to get the opportunities they need to get by. Some of my colleagues report working in hospitals where because the PAs were permanent (not rotating) staff, they were given preference for audits, projects, research, procedures, surgery etc to the point where junior doctors felt sidelined and unable to get the training they need. Where they felt that rather than PAs taking on some of the “jobs everyone doesn’t like doing”  on top of clerking, they were given preference for the things both they and docs like doing, but also that docs NEED to do. And I’ve been in situations where I’m tired, struggling to get what I nee to do done, and I can see where they are coming from; I remember having an unpleasant evening, and wondering they were giving a GP trainee a chance to do a lumbar puncture when they’ll never need to do one in their line of work, when there are trainees in the dept that will need to do these procedures independently soon, but never get the opportunity. Of course, I reined in my childish brain, but the reason I felt that way wasn’t really because of my lovely colleague, but because of my stress at the lack of opportunities I got, which the system dictated I needed, but didn’t help me with. I’d never begrudged or been jealous of a colleague before so it was a low moment for me. But I’m sharing it because even generally nice people can feel jealous or let down if the system pits people against each other. And in scenarios like that, it’s not the fault of PAs at all; it should be up to hospitals planning their rota to ensure not only that staffing is well covered, but that trainee docs get enough opportunity to do what they need to do. And that PAs aren’t screwed over. I think blaming other employees is wrong, when the real culprit is a system that pits people against each other or doesn’t give people what they need to get things done. Now, there’s also a bit of rivalry between PA students and med students, more so than grads. Some PA students seem to go into it with the attitude that “It’ll be just like being a doctor, but you graduate faster”, and med students being med students, some of them will treat other clinicians with smug, unearned superiority. I have no time for either of these imposters, personally. Med students who think they are better than everyone don’t make good doctors until they get taken down a peg or two. We’re part of a team, and we can’t do what we do without nurses, physios, pharmacists etc, even PAs if they are part of our team. And people choosing beteeen the two courses shouldn’t think, wrongly that PA school is just the easy way into medicine, or “basically makes me a doctor”, because it’s dangerous to assume a level of competence or practice you don’t have. And because if you don’t understand the role you’re getting into, you may well be disappointed if it doesn’t meet your expectation. I think med students and PA students like this let both sides down, but I hope that real life will knock them into shape. The good news is that a lot of my colleagues on the group report that they’ve worked in places where having PAs worked really well. I think a lot of people would love having more people on the team to help. I’m certainly not against PAs if they are well supported. I think it has a lot of potential, and I’d like to see hospitals develop it properly. Where there were enough opportunities for both, and where PAs . I saw a lot of people say wonderful things about PAs, and defend them when things on the thread got more negative. I have hope for what our PA colleagues will do, I just think we’re still going through a transitional period with its own teething problems. We work well with nurse prescribers, with ANPs and with pharmacist prescribers; I believe we can work well with PAs. I just hope that trusts and the govt will do well by both docs and PAs, and that the relationship we eventually build will be fair to both sides. I suggest doing your research to see the kinds of jobs beingoffered, because they might not be as varied as they are in the US; some places definitely seem to offer jobs for PAs that are mainly paperwork, minor jobs with some phlebotomy, whereas other trusts have scope for clerking or more varied practice. And I would want to make sure that there’s an appropriate level of senior support for decisionmaking.

#ask dx #askdx #medblr #PA #PAs

[look-its-casper]

A. Your blog is absolutely fantastic & I love your writing. || B. Prompt Idea: After being absolutely humiliated by Commander YourADick (Iverson) for the umpteenth time, ya boy lancey-lance finds himself throwing everything into his studies, wanting the man's approval at least once and prove to /everyone/ that he does deserve to be at the Garrison. What starts as a cold turns into something akin to I'm Dying™ but he still trying to go take his exam and his two teammates gotta take care of him ~

ACKK Writer’s block is awful but hello I actually have another fic!

Lance wiped his nose for the umpteenth time that night as he tried to prevent it from dripping onto his book. The stuffed nose was annoying, and the slight headache made him want to curl up and go to sleep, but he kept himself going with the hope that once he was finished, his exam score would be too high for even Commander Iverson to find something wrong with.

So far, nothing he ever did seemed to be good enough for the man. A couple weeks ago, after a successful flight simulation, Lance had been thrilled. Before stepping out of the makeshift shuttle, Lance had high fived both Hunk and Pidge, who had equally large smiles on their faced. They filed out, Lance taking up the rear. Iverson had said nothing to Hunk and Pidge, however laid into Lance as soon as he was close enough to hear him.

He had apparently missed a step, something he was sure had never been covered in class. At least, he hadn’t had it written in his notes. At that moment, though, that didn’t matter, and Lance could do nothing but stand there as he felt his face burning.

Afterwards, he skipped lunch to go check the textbook, just to see if the step was really in there.

It was.

It was at that point that Lance reread the whole chapter, wanting to, needing to know it cover to cover. He wouldn’t let Iverson humiliate him like that. He belonged at the Garrison. He had worked just as hard for his spot as everyone else, he deserved to be in the Garrison as much as everyone else. Now, he was just going to have to start working harder.

He had missed dinner that night as well.

———-

This had gone on for too long.

Pidge looked over at Lance, who clearly was not okay. His eyes were glassy, his face was flushed, his hands were shaking, and every few moments he was stifling coughing in his elbow. It was amazing that he had even managed to get up out of bed that day, let alone dressed and down to the exam room in time. She leaned over the small table, snapping her fingers in his face to get his attention, as he wasn’t responding to her voice, and Hunk seemed oblivious, looking over his notes last minute.

“Lance!”

Lance jumped up, looking at Pidge. “Eh?”

“You weren’t responding.”

“Oh.. Sorry, Pidge. I guess I got distracted.” He gave her a smile,  though it seemed  forced.

“You’re sick.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement of an observation. His face was pale aside from two fever spots on his cheeks, his eyes were glassy, and it was clear that he was barely awake.

“I’m fine. I was just up late last night.” Lance wiped his nose with his sleeve, having run out of tissues around 3 that morning.

Pidge didn’t get a chance to respond, as the exam was passed out and they had be silent for next hour and a half as they took it. She very quickly got annoyed with the constant sniffling from Lance, and eventually fished a package of kleenex from her back and nailed Lance in the side of the head with it. Lance was startled out of a daze when he was hit, though picked up the package and turned, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ to Pidge, quick to turn back to his exam before the proctor could yell at him.

——

By the end of the exam, Lance wasn’t sure how he was still awake. He was glad he had studied so much- he couldn’t clear his mind enough to even think about the question, just putting down the first answer that came to his mind and praying it was correct. When the exam was over, he watched his paper be collected, heard the teacher dismiss them, and felt a hand on his arm a few moments later. He didn’t realize they were allowed to leave until he felt a hand on his arm trying to pull him up.“Lance, Buddy, come on. It’s time to go.” Hunk frowned before moving his hand to feel Lance’s face. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got a fever.”“Oh, it’s over already?” Lance looked up, his eyes unfocused. “I’m okay. Just really tired… I’m so freaking tired…”

“Yeah, I can see that. You’re going to bed.” Hunk helped Lance up, holding him in place when Lance swayed dangerously.

“I don’ feel good…” Lance leaned into Hunk a bit, rubbing his eyes.

“You shouldn’t have gotten out of bed this morning. You’ve probably made yourself feel a lot worse.” Pidge folded her arms, standing in front of the two boys. Lance didn’t respond to her, suddenly slumping bonelessly against Hunk, who’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Pidge! What do we do?”

“Well we can’t just leave him here.”

——–

When Lance woke up, his vision was fuzzy, but he could tell that he was in his own room again. As his vision started to clear, he finally registered the two other people in the room with him, his teammates. He rolled over, coughing a few times to try to clear his throat.

There was soon a hand on his back, helping him sit up. Another set of hands pressed a glass of water into his hands, and he sipped at it, looking over to see a concerned looking Pidge and Hunk in complete Mother Hen™ mode.

“You’re an idiot.” There was no bite to Pidge’s words- she really had been worried when he just collapsed.

“You really should have stayed in bed, buddy.” This advisement came from Hunk.

Lance just felt awful- on top of physically feeling like he was run over by a truck, he knew that he has just made everything more difficult for his team. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean… I just couldn’t miss the exam…”“I know, I know. You don’t think I haven’t noticed how late you’ve been staying up?”

Lance flinched a bit at Hunk’s words. Had he been keeping Hunk awake at night? Hunk continued, not acknowledging Lance’s reaction.

“And skipping meals isn’t healthy. Sleep you can get away with not having as much, but if you skip another meal I’m sending Pidge after you.”

“Hey!” Pidge huffed lightly, folding her arms. Hunk ignored her as well.

“You just really need to take care of yourself better. Why were you studying so hard anyway?”

Lance looked down, his ears red, from embarrassment, not the fever. “I just… It’s stupid. It doesn’t matter.”

“Lance, if it’s bothering you, it’s important to us.” Pidge sat down on the end of Lance’s bed.

“I just…” Lance hesitated a bit. “I’m just so sick of Iverson targeting me… I worked just as hard for my spot as everyone else I just… I just want to show him that I belong here.” Had the fever not been there, the chances of Lance admitting it so easily would have been none. Given that his temperature was hovering close to 103, though, his filter had taken a day off. Pidge crawled forward a bit and put a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“You do belong here, Lance.”“You’re an entire third of our team.” Hunk smiles, and his expression is so kind that Lance has to swallow a lump that’s forming in his throat.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Anytime, Lance. I mean it. Now get some sleep.”

#voltron #voltron whump #sick!Lance McClain #Sick Lance #Lance whump #langst #hunk garrett #pidge gunderson #vld #vld fic #voltron fic #whump #whump fic

[doctordragon]

I gotta ask about your reblog in the Fyeahcontroversialcharacter reblog. You said "reblogged" with "I agree with 90% of this, except that Lucio is less fighting against order itself and for total freedom, and less in a... "... But your post there was empty. What were you trying to say? As the guy who upped this, I'm very curious.

I’m really tired tonight from exams and a fencing meet but I’ll do my best to explain what I was trying to say (and I’m sorry if I come across as angry,,,,)

First things first, I love Lucio and Symmetra both so much. I feel like they have one of the best possible unused story arcs in all of the Overwatch lore, and I would love development for both of them. Lucio is probably the character with the least amount of canon content about him, and Symmetra only has a comic, which I find unfortunate because their story is so intricate and well made.

The post from the controversial character blog I reblogged was a defense for Symmetra against people who hate her character and think she’s a bad person for being manipulated so easily by Vishkar. I agree with most of your post, except the post bashed Lucio as “romanticizing the steal from the rich and give to the poor Robin Hood trope,” but as someone who’s pretty much in love with Lucio and has 62+ hours on him, this really upset me because his reasoning behind stealing Vishkar’s technology is so much more complex than that. Also, the original post pretty much argued that Symmetra had little to no character flaws, which is wrong as well. However, I agree that this is no reason to hate her, especially because all characters should have flaws like regular people. 

Essentially, what bothered me about their argument is that they implied to put Lucio at fault, when his actions were clearly justified. Yes, stealing Vishkar tech may be illegal and against what Symmetra may want, but his actions had clear reason behind them.

In order to justify Lucio’s actions, we first need to understand where he was coming from. Lucio was born in Rio’s slums, which were poor but bursting with culture. He began to create music, expressing his freedom and creativity. He put on small shows with his music, but eventually worked his way up to larger audiences until he was eventually the world famous musician that we know today. However, soon, Vishkar which is a clearly corrupt and evil organization (I’ll get to how terrible they are later) wants to move into Rio. Lucio has seen what Vishkar has done in Utopea, where they have repressed creativity in the name of order and perfection. Lucio has made his career in freedom of self expression and love. Of course, when Vishkar comes with its order and anti freedom philosophies to his home city where he made his own music and self expression, naturally, he’s gonna be fucking pissed. 

So, what does he do? Anything he can to keep Vishkar out of Rio to preserve his home city and culture. Lucio first begins a resistance in Rio against Vishkar and their moving into Rio, using his songs and music to motivate people to stand with him. However, even as a famous musician (we don’t know how famous he was at the time), he probably doesn’t have access to a shit ton of cool technology or any way to actually take a real stand against Vishkar other than his music. So, he decides to steal their technology. Vishkar is an incredibly rich corporation (they made an entire CITY) and will likely be able to easily replace whatever Lucio stole. I feel like it’s implied he stole it more for the symbolism of using Vishkar’s technology, which used to represent order and to Lucio, lack of creativity and culture, as his way of expressing his creativity (again, through his music). Not to mention, he reprogramed Vishkar’s tech against them, which is also symbolic in its own way. Lucio is an artist, and I doubt he did any of this by accident. 

In your post, you said that he was simply stealing from the rich to give to the poor, which in essence is true, because he was stealing to protect the people of Rio from being oppressed by Vishkar, but truly I believe his motivation is more complex than that. If we’re going by dungeons and dragons alignments which I love a lot, I’d say Lucio is neutral good.

Now, onto Symmetra and understanding where she’s coming from as well (I think you covered this in your post but my memory is bad and I’m lazy). Symmetra was also born very poor with a natural creative talent, except hers was in visual spacing and design, likely due to her autism. Vishkar, seeing her talent from a young age essentially kidnapped her away from her home and began teaching her to become an architect. She became the most skilled architect in Vishkar by using her culture’s dancing alongside Vishkar’s light technology. However, she was manipulated by Vishkar into thinking that they’re not a morally corrupt and evil company (which again, I’ll get to later). Vishkar uses her natural love of order and how it is the correct vision of human society to make her believe that what she’s doing is right. Symmetra doesn’t think she’s going against people’s wants and wishes by taking away their freedom, she only thinks she’s doing what’s right. 

Naturally, (as you pointed out) when she sees that Lucio stole technology from Vishkar, she’s going to be angry about it. Symmetra has every right to be angry at Lucio for stealing technology from Vishkar, because yes, he STOLE. He’s a thief, and in her book, that makes him below her and her order and all. 

However, just because of Symmetra’s situation, it doesn’t mean that she’s not a flawed character. The interaction that really gets to me is this one:

Anyone who’s read any dystopian society that claims to be a utopian society knows that repressing people’s freedoms, self expressions, and imaginations is a bad idea. Symmetra’s view of a perfect world is against what all of the people affected actually want, and if continued, could easily lead to revolt. Despite being confronted with it, Symmetra outright denies that people need to be free. She refuses to change her ideas about order. 

Not to mention, she only ever question’s Vishkar’s methods of achieving a perfect world, not the idea of a perfect world itself. She questions their willingness to kill people and blow up a building, which Symmetra didn’t want to do because she doesn’t like killing. After all, she wants what’s best for humanity, and killing people is clearly not a good thing for humanity. However, she continues to completely believe that the best future for humanity is the utopia Vishkar wants where culture and creativity is suppressed in the name of order. That’s why this interaction really gets to me. Symmetra thinks freedom and creativity is an illusion, anarchy, and only does harm. Even though she is beginning to understand Vishkar to be corrupt in her comic, Symmetra still doesn’t ever wonder about what they’re trying to achieve. Yes, this is likely because of them manipulating her from a young age, but I still find her rigid ideology and unquestioning of Vishkar’s final plan to be a flaw of Symmetra’s.

This flaw, and the fact that she is still with Vishkar even after being exposed to their cruel and terrible punishments, are Symmetra’s flaws. Don’t get me wrong, she is a character that truly believes in good and wants what’s best for humanity and the world, but her perception of what is good is very skewed and she refuses to right it, despite being blatantly confronted with what’s wrong with her ideals. Maybe it was just because Lucio was the one who confronted her, and she looks down on him as a street ruffian and a thief, but Symmetra should at least begin to understand that her envision of a perfect humanity is not what people want out of it. 

Finally, onto Vishkar itself. Vishkar is a terrible, evil, corporation who’s only goal is to gain money and power. By creating cities using their architects, they’re obviously getting massive amounts of both. Their methods of supposedly creating a better future for humanity include blackmail, killing, manipulation, and false publicity. Not to mention, they literally kidnapped Symmetra from her home as a young child in order to use her as a pawn to create their architecture, and manipulated her into thinking what she was doing was the best path for humanity. Again, Vishkar’s vision for the world is not really what “Utopia” looks like, as repressing people’s freedoms and ideas is not how to create a perfect society. Lucio mentions that the way Vishkar got their technology that he stole was acquired by very questionable means, and he claims he wasn’t in the wrong for stealing something acquired by such methods. 

So yeah, since I don’t remember much about the original post and I don’t feel like looking it up, here’s a lot (but not all) of my analysis on the Lucio, Symmetra, and Vishkar potential arc that’s been set up. I hope more gets developed sometime soon because I feel like there’s so much unused story and character development involved. 

rumor has it there’s an upcoming lucio short so maybe that’s when we’ll actually learn more about all of this conflict

#overwatch #symmetra #lucio #ow #satya vaswani #lucio santos dos correos #chrisx-212