sky prince.

        ❛ UGH!  i can’t even look at you right now, iwa-chan. ❜  oikawa trills the last little syllable with a fist rising to meet his mouth,  and he shakes his head,  because he is wholeheartedly forsaken.  ❛ i wish you would just apologize already.  i really want to move on.  i do!  but not until you apologize.  i am TIRED of your little games.  i know you got my text this morning.  ❜

the text in question, sent at 4:45AM, inexplicably reads:

[ TO:  iwa-chan! ]  YOUR’ A BASTARD

        ❛ and i know you got my follow-up text clarifying the previous text. ❜

the follow-up text, sent at 6:32AM, proceeded to explain:

[ TO: iwa-chan! ]  you were a jerk to me in my dream. [ TO: iwa-chan! ]  can you just not? [ TO: iwa-chan! ]  so typical of dreamwa-chan.  [ TO: iwa-chan! ]  apologize to me over lunch that you also pay for?

        so now, with his heart and soul on the line, oikawa waits. his glare is accusatory and belligerent, as if he had truly been wronged by this tangibly innocent guy.  ❛ so. lunch? ❜

        on a scale of one to the worst possible thing, this easily counts as ... well, ok, he’ll say an eight.  maybe a nine.  yamaguchi bounces uncomfortably, spying, hoping, praying for a familiar face to walk by and alleviate the monumental pressure placed on his wobbly teenage shoulders. 

his prayers?  answered.  tsukishima, aglow in his savior glory, is one step above human meat shield as yamaguchi slips up behind him, cloaked in stealth.  he nudges him as if to beckon the urgency of this private whisper. 

❛ tsukki... something happened.  i— i don’t know what to do. ❜

pro athlete oikawa, who i ABSOLUTELY also headcanon to be a social media influencer of sorts, has an editorial spread in a magazine one time entitled like uh Oikawa Tooru: Behind Closed Doors

and it’s like, full of these like gratuitously soft and delicate black and white photos of him. like? on the beach. laughing with a coffee. peeking @ the viewer over his sweater collar. like just SOO out of character, like That Boy Next Door, they all look like this 

and it’s TOTALLY fake like he looks like such a fuckboy , for example

What are your favorite activities?  ... I love taking long walks along the water.✨ Do you have any hobbies? ... Honestly, I love curling up with some tea and a good book.✨ How would your friends describe you? ... Sensitive, caring, shy and thoughtful. I tend to keep to myself & try to keep my friends feeling their best. I wish for peace and love. I wish I had time to volunteer EVERY weekend. ✨

why, why did he have to pick such an expensive treat?  oh, my god.  this is it.  this is his nightmare.  somebody queues behind him in line and asahi swears he feels his beard curl & constrict inside of him, as if to hide.  he seeks guidance — no, solace — in sugawara, who is no stranger to tooling on him for any good reason.

        ❛ hey, suga, can i borrow... ❜ 

did the cashier just sigh?  this is the end for him.  he could cry.  when he redirects his sorrowful gaze to the guy making minimum wage, asahi is, ultimately, unaware of his aura.

makki’ll  gladly  be  the  first  to  admit  that  seeing  oikawa’s  second  chin  flash  across  his phone  screen  when  he’s  been  sent  out  on  an  important  mission  is  both  the  harbinger  of  pale - faced  dread  and  a  firm  reminder  that  this  guy  just  fucking  sucks .    swiping  the  call  into  reception  is  like  willingly  allowing  a  gigantic  fart  to  be  blown  directly  into  your  face ,   and  his  expression  reflects  exactly  that    —    albeit  unperturbed  to  any  unsuspecting  third  party .

completely  ignoring  the  task  asked  of  him ,   he  barrels  straight  into  what’s  actually freaking  important .      

            ❛    eh ?     whaddaya  mean ‘ forget  the  snacks ’ ,   dummykawa ?    you  seriously  couldn’t  be  trusted  with  this  ONE  THING ,    lousykawa ?    loserkawa ?     you  should  seriously  be  burning  in  hell .     just  die  already .    ❜  

ugh.  mentally, oikawa edits his circle of close friends from shitty to the absolute worst.  he’ll have to rethink the causalities from The Great Matsukawa Lego Incident ( and perhaps bump mattsun up a spot ) all in the name of makki’s piss-poor emergency phone etiquette!

his whispers are getting more aggressive.

             ❛ you’re not listening!  i saaaaaid, my LIFE is on the line!  if i wanted to be called names,  i would’ve called iwa-chan directly.  makki, you were supposed to be my screening process!  also, he super ignores my calls when he’s hungry.  don’t talk.  just listen. ❜  oikawa pulls out the big guns, establishing what he would call a gold star of proof as he switches to facetime.  and with that, he points the camera in the direction of ushijima.  

❛ ... so that’s why i cut the crusts off before practice.  bokuto-san thinks that this particular brand of bread comes decrusted by default.  it’d shatter his world if he found out the truth. ❜

being the vice captain of fukurodani comes with a fair level of responsibilities.  this is one of them.  akaashi has ranked it #64 of 120 on a list of easily preventable disasters.  as if suddenly recalling his audience, moreover, he throws the girl a sideways glance.

” so when can i catch a game of yours, tooru? “   shinkai throws a wink, you know, like a bastard, from his spot across from oikawa at a lunch table on campus.   “ i really wanna see your amazing setting in action. “   ‘amazing setting’ being what he gathered from oikawa describing himself on the court. 

❛ well, first of all, plain amazing sort of sells me short.  jot that down! ❜  noting shinkai’s wink, oikawa offers one back, though it’s nowhere near as sly, flashy, or cool.  it suffers under the crushing weight of his mildly-managed exhaustion, sending both of his eyes fully closed.  a moment’s reprieve.  a two-second nap.

        ❛   hey, birdie.  c’mere.  take a look at this.  ❜

she stands facing the hobby shop’s glass window, tapping a pattern of curious clicks against her cheek.  what she’s fixated on is a doll  —  oh, pardon, an action figure  —  of a familiar jeanist.  one would even say he was the best of them. 

“ oikawa-san! i saw your game the other week! it was incredible! ”   only to be expected from the great king himself! shoyo admittedly hadn’t really kept up with oikawa’s games before they met in rio, but he’s made a habit of trying to catch them every time they were on. there was so much to learn from him, after all, even through a screen.  “ but you’re not the only one back on the court again! ”

@chadversary​ : starter  //  for oikawa!

the nerve of this kid.  blinding all six of his eyes.  ❛ are those veneers, shoyo?  your smile is like porcelain. ❜  admittedly, oikawa replays the sentiment  —  and much to his own dismay, he finds it a little too romantic for his not-so-junior.  bring it back, guy.  ❛ agh!  why’re you buttering me up, anyway?  did you forget your wallet again?  or are you looking for a little piggyback praise? ❜

❛ pickuppickuppickuppickuppick— makki!!  don’t hang up!!  i have a serious situation on my hands, okay?  a real CODE RED!! ❜  oikawa whispers this, impassioned.  he’s seated on the dirty floor, currently, his clean nails inches from an unfriendly dust bunny and the spider from charlotte’s web.

❛ forget the snacks.  this is bigger than the snacks.  my life is on the line, here.  i need some advice.  listen very carefully.  are you listening?  . . .  good.  give the phone to iwa-chan. ❜  

          well, well, well.  what a crack-ass turn of events!!  the devil, be he in prada or a sling-back adidas gym bag, seems to drag his sorry ass off the volleyball court once in a while after all!!  albeit hypocritically, oikawa snarls at his astute observation, eyeing as his fated enemy gets his grubby, germy hands all over the apples. 

ah, and it begs the question:  what should he do, in this situation?  simply duck to hide behind the mandarin’s pyramid display and monitor all of ushiwaka’s movements, of course.  the truth of the matter is this isn’t a situation at all.  it’d be so easy to walk away.  it’d be so easy.

oikawa doesn’t. 

❛ freak...  look at him, there.  looming.  he disgusts me.  you disgust me! ❜  his whisper is skilled and cutting, though directed across the lonely, shiny supermarket tile towards a man out of earshot.  

he crawls on all fours to the next display, if only to broaden his vantage point.  what’s he getting now?   ❛ you maniac.  picking up some green beans??  is it because they’re on sale, ushiwaka?  yeah?  i bet you’re so frugal that it’s annoying!  empty-ass basket haver!  what else is in there?  pudding cups?  you’re gonna g— ❜

and what is this?  a child, now?  UGH, as if his day could get any worse!!  

 ❛ hey.  begone from me.  i have to— i gotta make a phone call—  shit. ❜