3 Works by grumpyrobot
Listing Works
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Summary
That was the thing about life, you couldn’t ever get time back or properly make up for it. We are always running out of time, chasing it until we die.
“So as someone who was Atsumu, the dopamine rushes don’t last. And the people like Iwaizumi,” Oikawa glances over and smiles. Kiyoomi is frozen in the story, his feelings a jumbled horrifying mess.
“They end up alright eventually. So it hurts like hell now, but there is a better future ahead.”
Oikawa Toru talked about what shattered him, something that he wasn’t sure that he would ever heal from without letting a single tear fall from his eyes.
“You’ll have a better future,” Kiyoomi says a bit awkwardly. Oikawa looked stunned for a moment at his words. He had never been great at deep conversations or emotions, and all this with a near stranger was an added challenge.
“You deserve that too.” Kiyoomi adds, finding his stride more.
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Or Oikawa meets Kiyoomi on a balcony at the Olympics after party and gives some advice from one person who had been in the same situation to another and an odd friendship/connection forms.
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‘Move’ made it sound more impressive than what the reality was, when his muscles are exhausted walking turns into an awkward hobble limp. But it was progress. Progress, he repeated to himself. Oikawa wanted to be okay with things, wanted to not complain, and wanted to be able to do something with his life, even if he felt stuck. Caught up in a current that was too strong to swim against. A fish tirelessly swimming and never moving forward yet giving everything to prevent being swept away. He went back and forth between feeling like the situation sucked, to invalidating himself for complaining about shit people would kill for.
Oikawa heard footsteps coming from the hallway to the left and his heart started racing. He was a grown ass man. This was so stupid to be scared of. He should’ve kept in touch; he didn’t want things to be weird after how close they’d been. Life was fucked and Oikawa missed his best friend. He’d been a bad friend this past year and it would be understandable if things were different, but he so desperately wanted them to be exactly the same.
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Or the fic where I project my lupus diagnosis story/experiences onto Oikawa. -
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Summary
If Miya Atsumu had to describe what his worst nightmare was it probably wouldn’t be far from what he was currently experiencing. Yup he was totally, completely, and utterly fucked. He could already picture his parents disowning him while Osamu would document it all, Coach Foster as he paced back and forth while lecturing Atsumu for hours on how to do the right thing, his friends would never let him live this this down, and all of that was somehow secondary to the phone call he’d just made. Even he wasn’t creative enough to imagine this hellscape. Atsumu had considered his options carefully and tried to find another way but upon coming up empty he had dialed the number.
“What the hell do you want, Miya? It’s fucking 2:22am.” He winced at Sakusa’s tone. Atsumu had never been religious but he did send a silent prayer before calling asking for the spiker to be in a good and forgiving mood. Alas no, he was right not to be religious.
“So Sho-kun,Bokkun,and I kinda got arrested and we need you to bail us out of jail,” Atsumu said hurriedly, better to just rip off the band-aid right? Wrong.