#SOBS !!!!

[defectivevillain]

friends & fan clubs

pairings (separate): Atsumu/Reader; Hinata/Reader, Bokuto/Reader, Sakusa/Reader

the reader is masc-intended, since he plays on the same team as the guys. he/him pronouns are used; otherwise, race is ambiguous and no physical descriptors are used.

summary: You're not the most popular member of the Black Jackals. Far from it, actually. You don't usually mind being neglected at the meet-and-greet events, but today you can't help but feel a bit disheartened.

Atsumu's snippet is the only one with explicit romance. Otherwise, these can be read as platonic or romantic!

Atsumu

"Atsumu's over there." You tell a fan, when she appears to look a little lost and awkward. She's lingering in front of your spot with a shifty look in her eyes, as if she's nervous.

"Okay." She eventually says after a moment. She averts her eyes. "I'm not here for him, though." She's planted firmly in front of your spot. Is she here to meet with you?!

"Oh!" You realize aloud. She must be here for you, then. That's... unusual. You're not accustomed to people choosing to approach you over Atsumu. "Cool. Um, feel free to take a seat, then." You offer.

There's an awkward silence for a few moments, before you break through it. "Sorry, I'm really not used to this." You admit.

"It's okay," she reassures you. "I just wanted to say that I love watching you play."

"Thanks." You say, slowly starting to get more confident as the conversation continues."Do you play at all?" You ask.

From there, your conversation continues for several more minutes, until your coach has to intervene and end the meet-and-greet event. The girl leaves you with a quick smile and a word of gratitude; you respond similarly and watch as she walks away, still feeling a little off-kilter. The other guys on the team are the ones who get attention; it's weird to be on the receiving end of it.

You eventually refocus your attention, only to find Atsumu standing where the fan was mere moments ago. "Oh, hey." You blink, wondering how he could've approached without you noticing.

"Hey," he responds. "Seems like you've got yer own fan club, huh?" Atsumu asks, raising a brow.

You huff. "Hardly," you wave off the remark. "Besides, a club needs more than one person." You point out lightly, a bit amused.

"I'll join your fan club," Atsumu offers.

"Shut up," you huff, embarrassed. "You're ridiculous." You roll your eyes. Atsumu pouts dramatically, and for a second, you can convince yourself that genuine hurt flashes across his face. But it's gone in the blink of an eye, leaving you convinced you imagined it.

And then it happens again—you get another fan. It's really strange. You definitely like it, though! It's nice to feel appreciated. You just can't help but feel like somewhat of an impostor, as you flounder through conversations with the social grace of a baby doe learning to walk.

When you finish up this conversation with a fan, you're surprised to find Atsumu making his way towards you again.

"Hey, did you hear the good news?" You ask jokingly, before he can speak. "I have a fan club now."

"Ah, nice," he says with a grin. The smile almost looks a bit tight, as if he's forcing it. You frown.

"You good?" You ask.

"Fine." Atsumu says, before murmuring something too quietly for you to hear.

You frown and lean closer. "What'd you say?"

"Nothing-!" He maintains. Before you can attempt to get the truth out of him, his brother is approaching the two of you.

"Hey," Osamu Miya greets you first, before turning to his brother. "'Tsumu. Makin' a fool of yourself again?"

"No." Atsumu asserts. His expression sours. "And hey, why'd you greet him first? I'm your brother."

"I see you all the damn time," Osamu says with a roll of his eyes.

"What brings you here?" You hum curiously, looking at Atsumu's brother.

"Ah, right," Osamu remembers. "Figured you'd want a post-game snack." He announces. You blink and suddenly he's giving you a takeout container of food.

"Oh," you say, surprised. You expected him to give something to his brother, not you. "Um. Thanks." You manage to remark.

"'Samu, what the hell?" Atsumu sputters, clearly wondering where his own food is.

There's a shit-eating grin on Osamu's face and you have no idea why. Atsumu looks furious, and his brother just walks away—sending a wave over his shoulder.

"What was that about?" You ask your teammate, a bit concerned by his reaction.

Atsumu growls, staring after his sibling with annoyance. "That bastard did that on purpose." He scowls. "I'll kill him, I swear."

"You want this?" You offer, holding the container out to him. Somehow, this is the wrong thing to say, because Atsumu only gets more irritated.

"No, that's-!" Atsumu chokes off, visibly upset. "Arghhh!" He storms off, leaving you to your confusion.

Osamu returns the moment Atsumu is out of view. It seems like he was eavesdropping. "Sorry about the sour mood he's gonna have," he huffs, looking at where his brother just disappeared to. "He's a fool." Osamu says with a shake of his head.

You just blink at him helplessly, unsure how to navigate the situation.

"Oh, right," Osamu recalls casually. He looks at you rather intently. "'Tsumu has feelings for you, ya know."

You stare at him in disbelief, looking for dishonesty or amusement on his face. But he seems entirely sincere.

"Give this to him, will ya?" Osamu then asks, as if he hadn't just shattered your entire world. You're sure your shock is showing on your face. "I was just messing around; I made something for him too." He hands you another takeout container of food. You manage to get your hands to take it, albeit with a delayed reaction.

Within seconds, Osamu's gone again. What the fuck? Does this guy have teleportation abilities or something? But no, if you squint, you can see him walking away. Osamu's just very... evasive, it seems.

You stare after him for a moment, before shaking your head and returning to the locker room. "Atsumu?" You ask, wandering around the room and holding the food containers.

"Go away."

Uh oh. He sounds like he's in one of his moods, just as Osamu predicted. You feel kind of guilty, despite having no idea what's going on. You wander through the space for a bit longer, before remembering the small lounge room in the corner. You tilt the door open.

"Atsumu," you greet him. "Your brother brought you some food."

"Just... put it down there." Atsumu says dejectedly. He doesn't sound like himself at all.

"I'm coming in," you announce, before opening the door fully and stepping in. You hand him the food container before crouching down to sit across from him.

The two of you eat in silence for a while, before you decide to take a chance. "Is this about your brother?" You ask your teammate. "He said he was messing with you."

"I know he was." Atsumu almost snarls. Then he shakes his head. "Sorry. I'm not mad at you." He clarifies.

"It's okay," you reassure him. "Siblings are annoying, I get it."

"...But, um, Osamu told me something." You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Somehow, Atsumu looks even more upset now. Damn it, you just destroyed any of the progress you made. "He didn't." Atsumu says pleadingly. "Tell me he didn't."

"He did; he said you like me." You manage to say. Your heart is racing in your chest. You set your food container off to the side—the two of you finished eating several moments ago.

Atsumu groans and buries his head in his hands. "I wish I were an only child..." He mutters, clearly distressed. You're immediately worried by his uncharacteristic vulnerability.

"Hey, hey, don't panic," you say, moving closer to him. You try to get him to look at you, but he's keeping his face hidden. He must be really embarrassed—you've never seen him look so despondent. "I have no idea if it's even true. But, if it is... I'd be happy."

His head snaps up with surprising speed. "What?" Atsumu asks, studying your expression and searching your face. "What?" He exclaims.

"I have feelings for you." You admit. "I'm not sure if Osamu was telling the truth, but if he was, then you don't have to be embarrassed. And if he was lying, then I'm the only one who should feel embarrassed."

He's tugging you into a kiss the moment you finish speaking. You place a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. His hands fall to your waist and he tugs you even closer, his touch sending heat up your spine.

"I can't believe this," Atsumu says when you break apart. He's looking at you with a mix of disbelief and adoration. Then he seems to come to a realization and he grimaces. "Osamu's gonna be insufferable."

"Probably," you sigh resignedly. "But, hey, we could pretend this never happened. Prank him or something."

"Nah," Atsumu says unexpectedly. He reaches for your hand and clasps it reassuringly. "I don't wanna pretend anymore." His thumb glides over your knuckles and you smile.

Hinata

"Hey, Hinata." You greet your teammate casually, bending down to begin taking off your volleyball shoes and gear. It's nice to be able to wind down, now that you're finally finished with that stupid meet-and-greet event.

"Hey!" Hinata says brightly. "How'd the meet and greet go?"

"Probably not as smoothly as usual, considering I was there instead of you." You admit with a huff, managing to get your shoes and kneepads off. Hinata's a lot more popular and likable than you are.

"Oh, come on," Hinata chastises. "I'm sure you did great!"

"Your relentless optimism is appreciated, Shoyo." You say with a resigned sigh, putting some sweatpants on and gathering your stuff together. Fortunately, today's match was a home game, so you can leave most of your equipment in your locker. Somehow, you end up being ready before Hinata is, leaving you to lean against one of the lockers next to his and wait for him.

"I'm just saying it how it is," he then says with a frown. He shrugs a hoodie on and gets to his feet. You realize you're standing a little close and take a step back to give him some space. "You're an awesome player!"

"Thanks." You say, a smile rising on your lips at the compliment. Hinata is super bubbly and positive, sure, but he won't say things he doesn't mean. His compliments are always earnest and genuine.

"Speaking of..." Hinata trails off, a devious smile on his face. You feel something lurch in your chest at the sight. "Wanna sign my volleyball?" He promptly grabs his bag and takes out his ball, holding it out to you.

"What?" You choke out, looking at the unmarked volleyball in his hands. "Why?" You look at him in confusion.

"I want your autograph, duh." Hinata responds easily.

"But no one else has signed the ball yet..." You remark, putting a hand on the ball and inspecting it in his grip.

"You'll be the first, then." He says with a bright smile. And gods, how can he just say those things? With those sparkling eyes of his? You avert your eyes, pretending not to be flustered.

"Okay." You agree, if only to get a reprieve from that adoring look in his eyes. Hinata smiles and grabs a pen for his bag, handing it to you. You uncap it and prepare to write something, only to pause. "Is this for your sister?" You clarify.

"Nope, all for me," Hinata grins unapologetically. Your skin feels like it's on fire. Has the air temperature gotten warmer all of a sudden? You resolutely focus on signing the ball, before acknowledging the remark.

"Shoyo, you're going to kill me one of these days," you sigh once you finish writing. Hinata just laughs, placing a hand on your shoulder and thanking you for the autograph.

...If you spend the rest of the day overanalyzing every bit of that encounter, then, well, no one else has to know.

Bokuto

You're one of the more inconspicuous players on the Black Jackals. Players like Atsumu and Bokuto—those with stand-out personalities and the good looks to match—often snap up all of the fans' attention. And normally, you wouldn't mind. But sitting at the meet-and-greet entirely neglected is a bit of a blow to your self-esteem.

You're a bit surprised, then, to notice that someone has moved to sit across from you. You look up, ready to greet the fan. But the greeting promptly dies in your throat. "Bokuto?" You say instead, staring at your teammate.

"Hey!" He greets you. He's energetic as always, practically buzzing in the chair. "I just wanted to say that I love you, like so much. Dude! Your playing! It's like... wow!" You stare at him for a moment in complete disbelief.

"Bokuto..." You then trail off quietly, embarrassed. Your shame and humiliation only seem to encourage him, as he promptly stares at you as if you're making his entire year by speaking to him.

"And your cut shot in the third set was so awesome!" He gushes, almost bouncing in his seat now. "I don't know how you bend your wrist like that, it's crazy!"

You just bring your head down to rest on the table, hiding in humiliation. His earnest praise is making you feel very flustered, for reasons you'd rather not elucidate.

"You're a piece of work." You tell him somewhat fondly, once the event is officially finished. Bokuto just lets out a hmph.

"Hey, that's no way to treat your number one fan!" He pouts, practically deflating before your eyes.

"I'm just kidding," you feel the need to clarify. It was a sweet gesture. "...Thanks. That was pretty cute, actually."

And he's back to normal again. He almost looks bashful. There's a light blush dusting his cheeks. Then he frowns in frustration. (Why is everything he does so adorable?!) "I just hate to see ya not getting the recognition you deserve." He says, sounding far too sincere. You blink in surprise, not expecting the comment.

"Oh," you say. "It's okay. I don't want a fan club or anything." It's true, you don't. You'd rather slip under the radar than hide a giant line of screaming fans like Atsumu always does.

"Well, you should have one anyways!" Bokuto insists passionately. "Hell, I'll be the president!"

"Thanks, Bokuto." You say sincerely. The memory of his eagerness and kind compliments stays in your mind for far longer than it should.

Sakusa

warnings: harassment (from a fan)

You don't typically do meet-and-greet events, because you don't quite know how to act. You're always a bit awkward—nothing like Atsumu or Bokuto, who can navigate even the weirdest of conversations with complete ease and skill. No, you've always been a bit too... reserved.

Normally, that suits you just fine. But now, as you find yourself trapped under this fan's uncomfortably intense gaze, you wish you were more assertive. She's been slowly moving closer to you throughout the conversation, leaving you to lean back until you're practically molding against the back of your chair.

She's asking you rather strange questions, too. You feel your fists clench at your sides as you try to keep yourself grounded. You want to tell her off, or make her get away, but your tongue feels locked to the roof of your mouth. Your surroundings are blurring and everything just feels hopeless, as the conversation just drags and drags-

"You're making him uncomfortable." A familiar voice says, cold and blunt.

The fan shrinks back, enforcing some distance between you both again. You can't quite hide your relief as you glance at Sakusa, who's looking particularly irritated. At least, you think he looks irritated—he has his face mask on, so you can only see the slight furrow to his brows.

Under Sakusa's watchful gaze, the fan clearly grows intimidated and eventually departs. You can't quite hide your gratitude as you glance over at your teammate.

"I see why you don't do these events." Sakusa acknowledges, something like distaste evident in his expression.

"Yeah," is the most you can get yourself to say, still reeling and a bit frustrated with yourself for not speaking up. You stare down at your trembling hands and frown.

Sakusa just scoffs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Clean your hands." He suggests.

"Okay." You agree after a moment, if only to see the surprise flicker across his face at how easily you give in. You reach across the table and take a healthy dose of hand sanitizer, cleaning your hands. "Let's head back." You suggest.

The two of you start walking back to the locker room. It's entirely silent, before you eventually gather the courage to speak. "Thanks," you say. "For, y'know..." You break off, hoping he'll understand what you're implying.

"Speak up if it happens again." Sakusa says, in lieu of a response to your gratitude. "Tell them to back off." He continues, looking at you pointedly.

"I know I should," you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I just kind of... lock up. I always freeze."

Sakusa shakes his head disapprovingly. "You need to assert your boundaries, or they'll trample all over them." He says, a stormy expression on his face.

The two of you walk in a slightly more tense silence for a few moments. Then Sakusa does something so uncharacteristic you nearly freeze in place: he puts an arm around your shoulder. It's a light gesture, barely even tangible. You somehow manage to convince yourself to keep walking, despite immediately wondering what has gotten into Sakusa. He must be sick or something. He's never tactile like this.

When you reach the locker room, his arm falls away and he stares at you hard enough to melt your skin off. Eventually, you can't pretend to ignore him any longer—and you look over at him expectantly.

"That was a test." Sakusa explains. His hands are in his pockets again. "And you failed." He frowns.

"A test?" You question. You suppose that makes far more sense than anything else. "I was supposed to push you away?" You ask.

Sakusa nods.

"I didn't need to," you say before you can stop yourself. You didn't mean to say that aloud.

"Why not?" Sakusa questions, clearly disbelieving.

"Because it's you," you respond. "I wasn't uncomfortable." You trust Sakusa enough to know he would never have untoward intentions. The gesture was merely friendly—hell, it was hardly even friendly. He was treating it as a test, so there was barely anything behind it.

This time it's Sakusa's turn to be surprised. You can barely see the emotion—just a slight raise to his brows and a widening of the eyes. But it's clear he didn't expect you to say that.

Eventually, Sakusa just sighs. "You're hopeless." He huffs. Your teammate sounds almost fond—and for once, you think you're not just imagining it.

©2025, @defectivevillain | @defectivehero, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

thanks for reading! <3

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[rius-cave]

Okay now hear me out.

Abel singing I Will Be Okay about Adam after he leaves him to save Lucifer’s life.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FNKSKFKSKVKS STOP THAT NOOOOOO

[joongdunking]

THK EP 6: The removing of eyelash turned out to be real 😲😚

I thought it was a VERY JoongDunk moment and it's indeed them! 🥰

[vixtyhu]

This is the best angst fanfic I’ve read heh *cries*

Saving this here as a reminder that the author is writing p2

—Hey, brother.

Pairing: Hwang In-ho x Hwang Jun-ho x sister!reader

Summary: after your father went through a second marriage, there was suddenly a new brother in your life, Jun-ho. While In-ho gave up so much of himself to save the ones he loved, like Jun-ho, you couldn’t help the one that In-ho loved the most, his wife. In-ho disappeared after that, but you couldn’t give up searching for him.

Warnings: angst, use of y/n, grief/loss, guilt/self-blame, mentions of illness, mentions of death, mentions of organ donation, if you watched the show you should be fine, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.6k

The air in the house always felt heavy when you thought about In-ho. But It wasn’t always like that. You used to laugh here. You used to sit around the dinner table, teasing Jun-ho about his crushes or arguing over who’d do the dishes. Back then, your family had found ways to stay intact despite all its flaws. You, In-ho, and Jun-ho were bound by something stronger than blood.

But things had changed. They had fractured slowly, piece by piece, until you were left holding jagged shards of what once was.

You still remember when your father remarried. You were young, barely old enough to understand what it meant to have a “stepmother” and a “stepbrother.” Jun-ho had come into your life like a soft, hesitant breeze, unsure of his place. You’d been unsure too, unsure if you were supposed to treat him like a stranger or a brother. But then one day, he got sick—a fever so high you thought he might burn away entirely.

In-ho didn’t hesitate. He had been younger back then, but he was the oldest of the three of you, the protector, the one who had to shoulder responsibility, he thought.

He gave one of his kidneys to Jun-ho to save him. You found out later when your stepmother sobbed into his shoulder, thanking him over and over again.

“I’m just doing what needs to be done,” he had said quietly, as if it were no big deal. But to you, it was everything. In-ho was your hero, the glue that held your world together.

In-ho gave away a piece of himself so your stepbrother could live. It had been an act of selflessness that cemented something unspoken between the three of you: you were family, no matter the circumstances.

Things were good for a while after that. The three of you had your arguments, your moments of distance, but there was love. You and Jun-ho grew closer, and there was always this warmth when he smiled at you, it felt like he had been there your whole life—his little sister.

In-ho watched over the both of you with the quiet patience of someone who had put it on himself to take on too much responsibility, as if he was you and Jun-ho’s guardian, you two always teased him about it.

And then, In-ho met her. The love of his life. She was sweet, with a laugh that filled any room she entered. You adored her immediately. You still remembered the way she blushed when she first came over, how In-ho’s eyes softened whenever she spoke. He was happier than you’d ever seen him, and it made your heart swell.

When they got married, it felt like a new chapter. They talked about building a family, about all the dreams they had for the future. For once, things seemed solid.

But life wasn’t kind. Not to you, not to your family, and certainly not to In-ho.

When she got sick, it was like a storm cloud had settled over everything. You could see it in the way In-ho’s hands trembled when he thought no one was looking, in the dark circles under his eyes from sleepless nights spent worrying.

You wanted to help. You needed to help. Watching him crumble under the weight of helplessness was unbearable. Selling a kidney seemed like the only logical choice, right? Then you could get the money and pay for the treatment that would save her. It wasn’t a question of whether or not you should do it… it was a question of when.

But Jun-ho stopped you.

“Y/n, no.” he had said, grabbing your shoulders and shaking his head, his voice low with concern. “You can’t do this.”

“She’s dying, Jun-ho,” you shot back, your voice breaking. “And they’re having a baby. How can you just stand there and—”

“We’ll find the money another way,” he interrupted, his voice firm but filled with desperation. “Please, Y/N. Don’t do this.”

You didn’t want to listen. You wanted to storm out, to prove that you could save her, that you could do something. You had slipped away one night, signed the papers yourself, you were a grown adult who could make your own decisions, and you decided that you weren’t going to let the one good thing in In-ho’s life leave just like that. But before you could, before the surgery could start, it was too late.

She passed away, along with the baby in her stomach.

The day she died, the house felt emptier than ever. In-ho didn’t say a word. He just sat there, staring at nothing, his hands clenched into fists on his lap. You didn’t know what to say to him. No one did. Your stepmother tried, but he brushed her off. Jun-ho tried, but In-ho wouldn’t even look at him.

You tried.

“In-ho, I’m so sorry,” you whispered one night, standing in the doorway to his room.

He didn’t answer.

“I should’ve done more,” you said, your voice trembling. “I could’ve—”

“Stop.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. He turned to look at you, his eyes hollow. “It’s over. She’s gone.”

The bitterness in his voice stung, and you didn’t know if it was directed at you, at himself, or at the world. You wanted to say something, anything, to bring him back to you. But the words wouldn’t come.

In-ho disappeared a week later.

You woke up to find his room empty, his things still scattered where he’d left them. There was no note, no explanation, just an aching void where he used to be.

Panic set in immediately. You called his friends, the hospitals, anyone who might’ve seen him. But no one had.

Days turned into weeks, and the silence stretched on, suffocating. You blamed yourself. You replayed every moment in your head, searching for where you had gone wrong.

“If I’d just gone through with it,” you told Jun-ho one night, your voice barely above a whisper. “If I’d just been a little faster, she might still be here. He might still be here.”

Jun-ho didn’t say anything at first. He just pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly like he could keep you from shattering completely. His hand stroked your back, his fingers threading through your hair as he whispered, “It’s not your fault, y/n. None of this is your fault.”

But the guilt didn’t go away. It clung to you, a constant reminder of what you hadn’t done.

You started dreaming about In-ho. In your dreams, he was smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners like they used to. You were kids again, running through the park near your old house, your laughter echoing into the night.

“Do you think we’ll always be like this?” you asked him in one dream, just like you had when you were younger.

“Like what?” he replied, his voice soft and warm.

“Together.”

He didn’t answer this time. He just smiled that bittersweet smile of his and walked away, leaving you alone.

You always woke up out of breath after those dreams, your eyes welled up in tears but they never fell, the ache in your chest sharper than ever.

Jun-ho tried to keep you grounded. He was your anchor, the only thing keeping you from spiraling completely. He spent hours searching for In-ho with you, combing through any lead, no matter how small.

“We’ll find him,” he said one night as you sat together on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder.

“What if we don’t?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

“We will,” he insisted, his tone firm. “He’s out there. And when we find him, we’ll bring him home.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that In-ho was somewhere, waiting for you to find him. But as the days turned into months, hope became harder to hold onto.

The memories were what kept you going. You held onto them like lifelines, replaying every moment you’d shared with In-ho.

You remembered the time he taught you how to ride a bike, running alongside you and laughing as you wobbled down the street.

“You’re doing it!” he’d shouted, his voice full of pride. “Don’t stop!”

You remembered how he used to sneak you extra snacks when your father wasn’t looking, smiling at you as he handed them over.

You remembered the way he’d held you when you cried after your first heartbreak, whispering that anyone who didn’t see how amazing you were wasn’t worth your tears.

Those memories were all you had left of him now. And no matter how much it hurt, you clung to them.

One night, you sat in In-ho’s old room, running your fingers over the things he’d left behind. A worn-out baseball glove. A stack of books he’d never finished reading. A photograph of the three of you, taken on a rare day when everything felt right.

“I miss you,” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks. “Please come back.”

The silence was deafening.

You didn’t stop looking for him. Even when the hope felt too small to hold, even when Jun-ho begged you to take a break, you kept searching. Because In-ho was your brother. He was the one who had always been there for you, who had given so much of himself to protect the people he loved, but you couldn’t give a piece of yourself to save what he loved the most, and you blamed yourself every day for that.

But still, you couldn’t give up on him. Not now.

[phionrynn]

some soudam sillies..? Maybe Halloweeny?

Heyyy uhh you know that one holiday that happens in October? Yea….

Please spare me I wanted to play with the watercolor brushes but I’m not well practiced with them yet 😭

[angelpuns]

raghhh I wanna do L330-N: Flesh & Blood literally rn but I gotta draw at least the first chapter first ;-;

[max-the-silly-guy]

Newton what are you doing bro

[sockatoothewafflebird]

giggles. petra..... you sopping wet dogg.... (she bites but she also cries when she gets a baf) (thats the kind of dog i see her as)

Please turn the volume up. (Source.)

This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds

[romiiarts]

12.24 a soft epilogue

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Polin + Parallels, Callbacks, & Foreshadowing (Seasons 1-3)

[blauu]

the fandom is dead now but... amity discovers human world rain

(click for better quality!)

redraw of this old art that kinda did numbers at the time:

[dominolemon]

Love birds

[bkgsdoll]

after the war, katsuki is sosososo SO much softer.

and he's so good at dealing with your tantrums and little hissy fits. he's so gentle and patient, letting you scream and threaten him cuz he knows none of that shit's true. he does draw the line when you start angry crying though, he hates that, won't sit through it cuz it literally hurts him.

dont get me wrong though, he definitely lets you know when you're being a pain in the ass over nothing. he humbles you, but never tries to embarrass you, or make you feel belittled. he loves you gently and truly, because that's what he unknowingly needed before he met you.

[mgert-m]

part 2 to this post

[drulalovescas]

"no-strings-attached win."

[churroach]

Little birdy paying a visit by the windowsill