#but it's ha this time and blast of all people
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
palentineâs day ⤨ kuroo tetsuro
⨠genre; fluff, childhood best friends!trope, valentineâs day special!
⨠pairing; kuroo tetsuro x fem!reader
⨠word count; 18.5k
⨠description; kuroo suggests a âpalentineâs dayâ when you both admit to being adults with no sense of a love life on valentineâs. that being said, obviously he becomes yours.
⨠warnings; profanity, alcohol, suggestive dialogue
⨠a/n; guys i made this over the course of like one day. it's literally NOT proofread at all (i am not sober rn and will do so tomorrow morning) so if ur early, deal with it. jk thank u so much for reading my bullshit on ur valentine's if ur reading this also check out 'in full bloom' aka pt 1 of my valentines gift to tumblr
song i listened to writing this: 'pretty in pink' by lostboycrow
one.
JFK stands for âJohn F. Kennedyâ International Airport, but as you wait in the masses outside the pick-up zone, you canât help thinking that it should really stand for âJust Fucking Killâ yourself.
You tend to avoid the airport as much as humanly possible since TSA agents are evil and you always get lost, but today, youâre forced to be here: Kurooâs flight lands in ten minutes, and he whined so much about the cost of an Uber to your apartment that you finally gave in and agreed to pick him up yourself.
Predictably, youâre already regretting it.
The arrivals area is a literal zoo: people standing way too close, aggressively waving handmade signs that say things like Welcome home, Papa! and Jorge & Melissa 4Ever!, and a seemingly endless stream of passengers getting on and off flights. A man in a suit shoves past you, nearly smacking you in the face with the obscenely large bouquet of roses heâs carrying, and an elderly woman parks herself directly in front of you with a luggage cart, as if she has no idea that you exist. Meanwhile, Kuroo is nowhere in sight.
Leaning back against a pillar, you sigh and clutch your coat tighter around yourself, because despite being a major international airport, JFK still hasnât figured out how to keep the cold air from blasting in through the automatic doors. The little icon next to Kurooâs flight says baggage claim, which means you probably have another fifteen minutes before he actually appearsâmaybe more, if heâs being slow (which he always is).
You pull up your messages.
(3:27 PM) y/n: hurry up tetsu: awh, miss me? đ y/n: keep it up and iâm leaving without u
Shoving your hands back into your coat pockets does little to restore warmth, and the irritation building in your chest isnât helping. You shouldâve just let him suffer through the Uber surge pricing. He deserves it: youâre already letting him crash at your place for the week, rent-free.
Your phone buzzes again.
(3:32 PM) tetsu: omw. donât leave me 𼺠tetsu: remember when u were a baby and followed me everywhere?
You scoff, choosing not to dignify that text with a response.
What a bitch. Itâs been years since you last saw him, ever since you moved to NYC for your PhD and he stayed in Japan to work for the JVA, but some things never change: heâs still the same guy who kept you humble your whole childhood, who was your older brotherâsâand by extension, yoursâsole and only friend, who was the coolest person you knew as a kid because he was in second grade and you were still a kindergartener. You grew out of it by the time you both hit middle school (though he, unfortunately, never grew out of reminding you).
And now heâs here, in your city for a full two weeks as he promotes some upcoming tournament. You guys call semi-regularly, but it really is different when heâs here in real life and in person, because you can no longer just hang up when he starts to get annoying.Â
Thatâs when a pair of arms suddenly loop around your waist.
A startled jolt runs through you, heart seizing in your chest before the familiar scent of his overpriced department store cologne registers. Funny how smells bring back memories; heâs been using the same Armani Acqua Di Gio bottle since your undergrad years (youâre both shocked and impressed that he hasnât finished it yet). His arms squeeze lightly, then drop away.
âHi, babyface,â he coos, smirking.
Spinning around, you glare at him for still clinging to that dumbass childhood nicknameâhe overheard your parents call you that literally once, and has insisted on it ever since. Heâs probably the sole person left in the world who refers to you that way, but whateverâyouâll tolerate it for two weeks.
Kuroo stands there, dragging a comically oversized suitcase behind him. Honestly, he doesnât look all that different from the last time you saw him, three years ago when he and Kenma sent you off at Haneda Airport. Heâs still got the same stupidly tall frame, same messy bedhead that somehow makes him look effortlessly cool instead of disheveled and gross, like it should.
But heâs older now. More⌠grown up. His face is leaner, more refined, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners when he smirks, as smug as always. Itâs not that heâs annoyingly attractive, you tell yourself: his confidence is just so in-your-face, itâs impossible not to notice.
âTook you long enough,â you huff, crossing your arms.
He holds up a paper cup from some overpriced coffee joint inside the airport. âIn my defense, I needed this. Been up since three in the morning.â
âOh, poor you.â You roll your eyes. âLetâs just go. Iâm sick of this crowd.â
âYou Kozumes are all the same,â he grins, but when you turn to lead the way, he swings an arm around your shoulders with easy familiarity, guiding you through the herd of people clamoring for their reunions. The crush of bodies is suffocatingâsomeone smacks into your elbow with a backpack, and you shoot them a dirty look. Kuroo just laughs and steers you closer to him, like heâs shielding you from a crowd of middle schoolers who havenât learned personal space.
âWhereâre you parked?â he asks, glancing around. The overhead speakers crackle as an announcement for a flight to Chicago booms through the terminal.
âGarage 4,â you say, just loud enough to be heard over the noise. âItâs, like, a mile from here, so get ready to hike.â
âSounds like fun,â he drawls. âCanât wait.â
A scoff slips out, but the tug at the corner of your mouth betrays youâthereâs something about him that makes you nostalgic for days when running around after him and your brother was your favorite activity. You guess old habits die hard; he still reaches back when you fall behind, still makes sure youâre not lost in the crowd.
When you finally reach the elevator, the two of you squeeze in with half a dozen other travelers plus an extremely disgruntled-looking airport employee. Kuroo tries to maneuver his luggage behind him without bumping everyoneâs ankles, which, of course, is a losing battle.
âSorry,â you mutter to the group while jabbing the button for the garage level.
The elevator lurches upward. From the corner of your eye, you catch Kurooâs sideways grin.
âWhatâre you staring at?â you ask after a moment, realizing his gaze is fixed on you.
His lips twitch. âYou. I havenât seen you in forever, remember? Trying to see whatâs changed.â
You resist the urge to smack him because this space is way too cramped for violence. âWhatâs changed is that I have zero tolerance for your bullshit now.â
He lets out a loud laugh, drawing a few curious glances from the other passengers that should make him feel more embarrassed than it does. âSure, you do,â he murmurs, leaning in. âThatâs why you came to pick me up, right?â
âI shouldâve let you take the subway. Youâre lucky Iâm so kind and benevolent.â
Unfazed, he grins. âIâm very lucky,â he agrees, voice dropping an octave that sends a weird heat through your cheeks.
Thankfully, the elevator dings and the doors slide open, saving you from having to come up with a retort.
Stepping into the parking garage, the cold air slams into you instantlyâJFK has no business being this miserable in February. Tucking your chin deeper into your coat, you exhale sharply and brace yourself against the wind.
Kuroo whistles low under his breath, dragging his suitcase along the pavement with a clatter. âDamn. This city really doesnât give a shit about warmth, huh?â
âWelcome to New York,â you deadpan. âNow shut up and walk faster before I lose feeling in my fingers.â
He chuckles, shoving one hand into his coat pocket while gripping his suitcase handle with the other. You can hear the low hum of an airplane overhead, the distant honking of taxis below, the way his footsteps fall in sync with yours. Itâs strangeâhow easily he slots back in, like no time has passed at all.
Your car is parked at the far end of the lot, tucked between an SUV and a sedan thatâs way too close to the line. âThere,â you say, pointing.
Kuroo groans. âYou werenât kidding about the hike.â
You ignore him, fishing your keys from your pocket as you approach the driverâs side. âJust get in, princess. Your chariot awaits.â
He snorts but doesnât argue, tossing his suitcase into the trunk before sliding into the passenger seat. The moment you settle in behind the wheel, you blast the heater, letting the warmth seep back into your body. Kuroo exhales in exaggerated pleasure.
âAh, yes,â he sighs, holding his hands up to the vents. âThis is the hospitality I deserve.â
You shoot him a look as you adjust the side mirrors. âBuckle your seatbelt. I wanna go.â
âSo eager to get me home already? At least buy me dinner first.â
âGet out.â
Kuroo smirks, clicking his seatbelt into place. âNot a chanceâyouâre stuck with me now, babyface.â
And you just sigh and kick your car into gear, promptly backing up and heading out of the maze of a parking lot, because even if you were to argue, it would be a lie. Youâve been stuck with him for almost two decades, and whether for better or for worse (definitely for worse), you donât see that changing anytime soon.
two.
Your apartment buildingâs leasing office has plastered pink and red hearts on just about every open space in the hallway, so itâs safe to say that youâre slightly annoyed as you lug Kurooâs freakishly huge suitcase to the door of your flat. The wheels squeak in protest, and youâre 99% sure you hear something clanking around insideâlike maybe heâs sneaking free weights in there, or some equally ridiculous item youâre going to have to store somewhere in your already-cramped closet.
âSeriously,â you grumble, pausing to readjust your grip, âwhat did you pack? An entire gym? A small car? Did you kidnap Bokuto or something?â
Kuroo, trailing behind you with his coffee cup thatâs somehow still not finished yet, lets out an overdramatic groan. âOh, come on. I need my suits, my shoes, and, of course, my extremely heavy hair-care products. Gotta keep thisââ he gestures at the bedhead that somehow counts as a hairstyle for him ââlooking flawless for the cameras.â
âYouâre insufferable,â you say.
âItâs okay,â Kuroo replies, stepping around a giant pink heart taped to the floor. âYou love me anyway.â
You roll your eyes, key in hand as you finally reach your door. Jamming the key into the lock and wriggling it furiously, you mutter, âI canât believe Iâm letting you stay with me. Your fancy JVA job couldnât get you a hotel?â
âThey could, but the Marriott doesnât have you,â he says proudly as you drag the suitcase over the threshold and inside your apartment, propping the door open with your hip. âIâd rather stay with my darling friend in her little one-bedroom place on the Upper East Side.â
You fight the urge to roll your eyes againâhalf because youâre exhausted, half because your heart is doing that annoying stutter-step in your chest, and you really donât want to analyze why. Instead, you drop your keys on the small side table by the door and flick on the overhead light.
âMake yourself at home,â you say, and the words come out more begrudging than you intend. Despite this, he kicks off his shoes very casually, setting his half-empty coffee on your kitchen counter and taking a quick scan of the place. Inside, your apartment is as cozy as everâsmall, but comfortable, and the warmth from your radiator is a welcome contrast to the drafty hallway. You drop the suitcase in the living area, exhaling with relief.
He smirks, reaching out to flick one of the pink paper hearts taped to your kitchen cabinet. âDidnât know you were such a fan of love.â
âThe leasing office gets way too into seasonal themes. They gave us all these cut-out hearts to tape up, like weâre in grade school,â you scoff, crossing your arms. âI figured it was better to play along than have them slip passive-aggressive notes under my door.â
âAh, yes, the joys of city living,â he intones. He peels one heart off the cabinet and sticks it onto his own chest like a ridiculous badge. How appropriate.
âThe bathroomâs down the hall to the right. Towels are in the cabinet.â You pause momentarily, considering. âDo you think you can fit on the couch?â
Kuroo regards the couch in questionâlumpy cushions, old springs, barely big enough for someone your sizeâthen flicks his eyes to you, expression dry as if to say obviously not. In truth, you arenât totally surprised. Heâs always been freakishly tall, and the piece of furniture doubling as your âguest bedâ is basically a glorified loveseat.
âUh,â you say, slightly distracted as you take in the way his broad shoulders fill your kitchen, âmaybe if you sleep diagonally, you could?â
He gives you a slow, sarcastic clap. âWow, babyface. Thank you for that helpful geometry lesson.â
Your cheeks warm, partly in annoyance and partly because something about him looking so large in your space sets your nerves on edge. âWell, then I donât know what to tell you,â you mumble. âUnless you wanna sleep standing up against the wall.â
Kuroo crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. âThatâs not exactly comfortable, either.â
You throw up your hands. âThen what do you expect me to do? I only have a full-sized bed in my room, and thatâs barely big enough forââ You stop yourself, but itâs too late. You can practically see the grin forming on his lips.
âOh?â He shifts his weight, the corners of his mouth tilting upward. âI donât mind sharing. We used to all the time.â
You open your mouth to retort, but no sound comes out. You canât deny that a part of you has already considered this possibility. Sure, youâve known him forever, but the last time you shared a bed, Kenma was also there, and you were eleven-years-old having a sleepover because you were all way too invested in Monsters, Inc.âvery different from sharing a bed with him now.Â
âTetsu,â you start, forcing yourself to sound composed, âmy bed is also a tight squeeze. Thereâs no guarantee weâll both fit comfortably.â
Kuroo shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. âIâm not picky. I can do my best to take up minimal space.â
You snort. âYou? Minimizing anything? Please.â
He laughs, and the rich sound echoes in your small living area. âIâm not that tall.â
âPretty close,â you counter. âBut fine.â You exhale, feeling the weight of two weeksâ worth of future awkwardness settle on your shoulders. âIf you promise not to kick me in your sleep, you can share the bed.â
He smiles with infuriating smugness, like heâs won some big debate or secured a massive deal. âNoted. No kicking, no thrashing. I can be a good boy when I need to.â
At that, you turn away and take a sip of your water, because if you let yourself stare at him any longer, youâll start overthinking everything (you already are). Like how youâre going to handle waking up next to him. Or how itâll feel if one of you accidentally rolls over onto the other in the middle of the night.Â
âGo shower. You reek,â you say instead, tersely and very much avoiding eye contact.Â
Kuroo salutes you with two fingers. âYes, maâam.â He starts unzipping his massive suitcase, rummaging around for clothes. When he locates what looks like sleepwear, he straightens and tosses them over one arm. âIâll be quick. Donât fall asleep before I get back.â
âYeah, sure,â you say, heart still fluttering at the reality of what youâve just agreed to.Â
Youâre about to share a bed with your old friendâyour insufferable old friend, who shows up with enough luggage to stock a small department store, calls you babyface, and then makes your heartbeat skip whenever he so much as looks at you a certain way.
So in other words, you think youâre probably fucked.
three.
He emerges from the bathroom a little while later, hair damp, wearing a rumpled t-shirt and basketball shorts that show off way too much of his long legs. You pretend you donât notice. In the meantime, youâve perched on the edge of your bedâboth of your bed, you remind yourself, trying not to linger on that detailâflipping through your phone for the best takeout options.
âYou hungry?â you ask, keeping your voice casual. âIâm too tired to cook.â
Kuroo sets his towel on the back of a chair and rubs at his damp hair a final time. âAbsolutely. I owe you for picking me up anyway. Let me buy dinner.â
âDeal,â you say, pulling up a nearby Mexican jointâs online menuâyou can almost taste the cilantro and lime already. âI vote burritos. Guac and chips on the side. Whaddya think?â
He moves to sit beside you on the mattress, leaning in to read the menu on your phone. Your shoulders nearly brush, and you feel a flicker of awareness at the close proximity.Â
âLetâs do it,â he says. âIâm a sucker for a good burrito. Extra beans, though, or itâs not worth it.â
You snort, tapping in your order. âFine. But donât complain if you regret it later.â
He laughs proudly. âI have no regrets. Order some chips and salsa, too.â
You roll your eyes, but youâre smiling as you finalize your selections on the app. âFried plantains or no? They have them here.â
âAbsolutely. Throw âem in.â
Satisfied, you place the order. âAlright, burritos en route. They said itâll be here in about twenty-five minutes.â
Kuroo drops onto his back for a moment, groaning dramatically into one of your pillows. âI might not last that long.â
âQuit being dramatic or Iâll eat your half when it arrives.â
He pops back up, smirking. âYouâd miss me if I starved to death.â
âSure,â you say dryly, setting your phone aside and hugging your knees to your chest, getting comfortable. âAnyway, whatâs been up with you lately? Aside from the glorious JVA life. You havenât actually told me much.â
Kuroo shifts, propping himself up on one elbow, humming nonchalantly. âMostly traveling, setting up events. Lately itâs been a lot of PR for an upcoming international tournamentâmaking sponsor deals, meeting with potential partners, that sort of thing. Itâs never-ending.â
âSounds exhausting,â you say, and mean it. âBut you seem to thrive on that chaos.â
He smiles. âI like keeping busy, yeah. What about you? Kenma mentioned something about you publishing an article in a big journal.â
A self-conscious warmth settles in your chest. âItâs not that big,â you insist. âJust a decent academic journal. But yeah, Iâm pretty proud. Trying to balance that with my research duties and teaching labs at university is⌠a lot.â
He bumps your shoulder gently with his own. âStill, thatâs impressive. Your parents must be bragging left and right.â
You exhale, a small smile tugging at your lips. âThey are. Kenma, too, apparently.â
âHeâs proud,â Kuroo confirms, then yawns. âMan, Iâm wiped. But I gotta stay conscious long enough to demolish this burrito.â
As if on cue, thereâs a buzz from your phone. You glance down to see a delivery notification: Your order is arriving soon.
âPerfect,â you murmur. âIâll grab it in a minute. Might as well eat in hereâitâs more comfortable than the couch.â
He grins, reaching to grab his wallet from his bag and handing you a few twenty-dollar bills. âIâm not opposed to an in-bed picnic.â
A few minutes later, youâre answering the knock at your door. Your hallway briefly fills with the mouthwatering scent of fresh tortillas and spices; youâre only realising now that this is practically the only thing youâve had all day. Once you pay the delivery person, you lug the paper bag back to the bedroom. Kuroo shifts to sit cross-legged, making space for the containers between you.
âDig in,â he says, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
You unwrap your burrito, steam curling upward, and suddenly youâre reminded of all those nights you spent eating junk food with him and Kenma back in Tokyoâlate-night convenience store runs, microwaved meals shared on the couch while you watched random movies. It feels oddly nostalgic; you almost want to put on Shrek 2 (the best one) just for the sake of it.
âMm,â you manage around a mouthful of seasoned rice and beans. âThatâs gas.â
Kuroo tears into his own burrito, letting out a satisfied hum. âNew York burritos arenât half bad. Who knew?â
You smirk. âTheyâre still not exactly authentic, but theyâre decent. We have some good Mexican places nearbyâif you stick around long enough, Iâll take you to this hole-in-the-wall joint in Queens thatâs even better.â
He perks up. âYou sure know how to show a guy a good time.â Then he gestures at one of the pink hearts still taped to your wall. âSpeaking of good times, we got Valentineâs Day coming up, right?â
You pause, taking a sip of your soda to stall, humming. âYeah, next week. Not exactly my favorite holiday.â
âYou doing anything?â he asks, fishing out a chip to scoop some guacamole.
You shrug, eyes fixed on your burrito. âNo. Iâm, uh⌠single. So itâll just be another Tuesday for me. Maybe a glass of wine and some Netflix.â
He nods slowly, as if absorbing that information. âRight. Me too, actually. Single, I mean.â
You hazard a glance at him. âReally? I figured youâd have someone lined up,â you tease, trying to keep your tone light. âYouâre always bragging about how charming you are.â
He snorts, looking faintly amused. âNo takers at the moment, guess I gotta step up my game.â Then he sets his burrito down, brushing stray bits of rice from his fingers. âHonestly, though, Iâm not looking to date just anybody. Iâm picky.â
The confession sends a flicker of warmth through you. Donât read into it, you warn yourself. âWell, guess that means weâll both be alone on V-Day.â
Kurooâs face brightens with an idea. âDoesnât have to be alone-alone. We should hang out! Watch a movie, go ice-skating, corny shit like that. Weâre in New York City, after all.â
Your stomach does a little flip, and you hope he canât see the sudden rush of heat in your cheeks. âYou want to hang out with me on Valentineâs Day?â
He shrugs, looking casual, but thereâs a softness in his eyes. âWhy not? Better than moping around separately. We can do the whole anti-Valentineâs vibe. Or, yâknow, a Palentineâs Day.â
âPalentineâs Day,â you echo, rolling the phrase around. Part of you wants to jump at the chance, but youâre also cautiousâbecause this is Kuroo. Kuroo, whoâs seen you when you were still climbing into Kenmaâs bed every time you had a nightmare. Kuroo, who carried you home on his back when you twisted your ankle playing tag at the park. Kuroo, who knows about every embarrassing photo of you in your entire house and is featured in practically half of them.Â
Kuroo, who was your first childhood crush, who took you to your senior year formal, who still makes your heart stutter like no one else.
Jesus fuck.
âSure,â you say at last, trying to sound nonchalant. âThat could be fun. As long as youâre not too busy with your JVA stuff.â
He offers a crooked grin, the one that always makes your pulse pick up. âIâll make time. Promise.â
A comfortable silence settles between you, broken only by the sound of wrappers crinkling and the hum of traffic outside. You focus on your burrito, but every so often, you peek at him from the corner of your eyeâhow his long lashes cast faint shadows on his cheekbones, how he smirks just before taking another bite.
When you finally polish off the last of your dinner, you exhale in satisfaction, leaning back against the headboard. Kuroo does the same, patting his stomach. âThat really hit the spot,â he says. âMight have to get seconds tomorrow.â
âWe canât keep eating like this,â you tease, crumpling up your napkin. âWeâll both end up broke, living off takeout.â
He shrugs one shoulder. âWorse ways to go, babyface.â
You give him a mock glare, but you canât hide your faint grin. Babyface. Somehow, it doesnât annoy you the way it used to. Maybe itâs the nostalgia, you think, or maybe youâre just too used to it by now.
âAnyway,â he adds, glancing at the clock on his phone, âyou ready to crash? âCause Iâm about to pass out any second.â
A twinge of nervous excitement flutters in your chest. Youâd momentarily forgotten the whole bed situation. You clear your throat, stacking up the empty takeout containers so you can toss them. âYeah, I guess so. Letâs clean this up, then⌠bed.â
He nods, stretching his arms overhead. His shirt lifts slightly, revealing a sliver of toned abdomen, and you quickly look away, pretending to focus on tidying up. Two weeks, you remind yourself. Heâll only be here for two weeks, and then things go back to normalâwhatever normal means when it comes to the two of you.
But for now, as you glance up to see him smiling at youâfond, amused, and something else you canât quite nameâyou have the strangest feeling that nothing about this trip will be normal. And youâre not sure if that terrifies you or thrills you.
Considering itâs Kuroo, the answer is probably both.
four.
As it turns out, Kuroo lied about being a supposed âgood boyâ, because he grabs just about everything in his sleep, including your comforter, your pillow, and you.
The first thing you notice upon waking is that your arm is asleepâcompletely, pins-and-needles numb. The second thing you notice is that itâs probably because Kuroo is draped all over you like an overgrown cat: one arm slung across your waist, a leg hooking over yours, and his face half-buried in the pillow you share.
Itâs still early. The faint gray glow of dawn filters through your curtains, and the radiator in the corner hisses quietly, pushing lukewarm air into the room. You try to moveâgently, so you donât jostle him too muchâbut his grip tightens reflexively, pulling you closer.
Your pulse hammers a little faster. Not exactly the start to the morning you pictured when you offered to share a bed. Hesitantly, you lay there, blinking sleep from your eyes as you let the situation sink in. On one hand, heâs so much warmer than the drafty air swirling around you. On the other⌠well, this is Kuroo. Â
He shifts in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible. You canât help noticing how his dark hair flops forward onto his forehead, or how his breathing sounds steady, almost comforting against your ear. A little flutter stirs in your chest, and you decide itâs definitely the awkwardness. Or maybe hunger. Definitely not anything else.
You inch your free arm over to nudge him carefully in the side. âHey,â you whisper, cringing at how scratchy your morning voice sounds, âmind letting me breathe?â
He stirs again, blinking blearily. When he opens his eyes, for a split second, he looks adorably confusedâlike heâs forgotten where he is. Then the realization dawns, and a slow, smug grin spreads across his face.
âMorninâ,â he drawls, voice husky from sleep. And he still doesnât move his arm.
You clear your throat, refusing to let your face heat up too obviously. âCare to explain why youâre suffocating me?â
âAm I?â he says, sounding wholly unrepentant. âSorry, babyface. Didnât realize you were so delicate.â
Rolling your eyes, you lift your numb arm and give him another nudge. âAt least release my limbs so I can feel them again.â
He finally relents, scooting back a few inches but still remaining obnoxiously close, the mattress dipping under his weight. You sit up, wincing at the twinge in your shoulder, and rub at the pins-and-needles sensation. Meanwhile, Kuroo stretches luxuriously, arms overhead, shirt riding up just a fraction.
âNot a bad nightâs sleep,â he remarks, yawning. âThis bedâs cozier than it looks.â
âNo thanks to you,â you grumble, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Despite your best efforts to stay composed, you canât quite suppress a tiny shiver at the morning chill. âNext time, keep your limbs to yourself.â
âHey, itâs not my fault you make a great pillow,â he counters, smirking.
Before you can toss a pillow at him in retaliation, your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You reach over, scanning the screen: a news alert and an email from your department. With a sigh, you set it aside for now.
You flick your gaze back to him, noticing how the sunlight is slowly brightening the angles of his face. âWhatâs your schedule like today?â you ask, if only to give yourself something normal to focus on.
He scrubs a hand through his sleep-mussed hairâsomehow, it still looks frustratingly coolâand shrugs. âMeeting at noon with the local organizers. Press conference in the late afternoon. After that, Iâm free.â
âAlright,â you say, pushing yourself off the bed. âI have a lab to teach at eleven, so Iâll be gone most of the morning and early afternoon. Iâll give you a spare key in case you need to step out while Iâm goneâjust donât get lost.â
âAw, youâre giving me a key to your place?â His grin turns positively wolfish. âThis relationship is moving so fast.â
You scowl, but the corners of your mouth twitch. âShut up,â you say, grabbing a sweatshirt from a nearby chair and tugging it on. âIâll make coffee, then we can figure out breakfast.â
Behind you, you hear the creak of the bed as Kuroo stands. âCoffee sounds great,â he says, padding after you. âBut only if you have the good stuff. None of that cheap instant brand.â
He catches up to you in the hallway, and for a moment, youâre hyper aware of how tall he is, how his eyes are still a bit sleepy, how your bedhead probably resembles a hedgehog. Yet, thereâs a comforting ease in the way he fits into your spaceâlike heâs been here a hundred times before, even though itâs been years since you last lived in the same city.
You toss him a lazy glare over your shoulder. âYouâre lucky I still have some leftover beans from when Kenma visited. Otherwise, youâd be stuck with the dreaded instant.â
Kuroo feigns a dramatic shudder, but his grin stays easy. As you flick on the kitchen lights, he leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. It strikes you again how right he looks here, in your cramped little kitchen, sporting wrinkled sleep clothes and bed hair youâd tease him about if he didnât look so⌠comfortable.
âBy the way,â he says, voice lower, still thick with morning grogginess. âThanks for letting me crash here. And, yâknow⌠for not kicking me out of bed for being grabby.â
âDonât get used to it,â you say, ignoring the warmth creeping into your cheeks as you fill the kettle with water. âTonight, you stick to your side, got it?â
âScoutâs honor.â He raises three fingers in a mock salute, the picture of insincerity.
You roll your eyes and turn on the stove, waiting for the water to boil. He shuffles a little closer, peering at the kettle. Heâs definitely invading your personal space again, but maybe youâre starting to get used to it, if the jump in your heartbeat is anything to go by.
Itâs a strange, domestic moment: you, still half-asleep, and Kuroo, leaning in with his arms caging you in, braced on the kitchen counter, with the faint hum of traffic outside. Despite the tingle in your arm and the slight ache in your stiff neck, you realize you donât hate the idea of waking up like this. For once, youâre not quite as alone in the big city, you justify to yourself.Â
He meets your gaze, one brow raised. âWhatâre you thinking about?â
âNothing,â you say quickly, dropping your eyes to the kettle. âJust that the coffee needs to hurry up or Iâm gonna be late.â
He chuckles, the soft rumble filling the space. âSure, sure.â
But he doesnât push, just stays close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off him. And for nowâjust this onceâyou decide to let it be.
five.
Kuroo looks unfairly good in a suit.
You realise this while youâre curled up on your couch, half-watching the new season of Singleâs Inferno on your TV and half-dozing off with a bowl of stale popcorn balanced on your lap. The door swings open without so much as a warning knockâtypicalâand then there he is, in all his post-press-conference glory: crisp blazer, tailored trousers, tie loosened just enough to give off a casual but effortlessly hot vibe.
Your stomach does a funny little flip. Itâs probably the stale popcorn.
âHey,â he says, shutting the door behind him with a nudge of his shoulder. âYou look cozy.â
âI am cozy,â you huff, wriggling deeper into your throw blanket. You drop a piece of popcorn into your mouth and make a face when it crunches unpleasantly. âYou look⌠fancy.â
He glances down at his outfit, as if heâs just remembered it exists. âRight. Forgot I was still wearing this.â A small smirk crosses his face. âDidnât want to keep the fans waiting, so I came straight from the conference.â
You roll your eyes. âIâm sure your admirers really appreciated that.â
âJealous?â he teases, toeing off his polished dress shoes. His shirt collar gapes slightly as he unbuttons the top, revealing a sliver of skin at his throat. Annoyingly distracting, even after all these years.
You pointedly look back at the TV, where two contestants are locked in a tense conversation about who picked whom for a date. âNot even remotely.â
âOuch,â he says, sounding mock-offended. âAnd here I was, about to tell you that I saved you some fancy hors dâoeuvres from the event. But if youâre not interestedââ
You sit up immediately, dislodging your popcorn bowl. âWait. Real food?â
Kuroo snickers, pulling a napkin-wrapped bundle from his pocket. He tosses it onto the coffee table with a flourish. âStraight from the VIP section. Mini sliders and some kind of salmon tartare thing.â
You snatch it up without hesitation, peeling back the napkin to inspect the offerings. âSee, this is why I tolerate you.â
âTolerate?â He feigns a dramatic gasp. âBabyface, weâve been through too much for that kind of slander.â
You grunt, already stuffing a mini slider into your mouth. âI donât know. If I remember correctly, you used to tie my shoelaces together and push me into Kenma just to watch me trip.â
Kuroo grins, unbothered. âBuilding character.â
âBeing an ass.â
âTomato, tomahto,â he singsongs, shrugging out of his blazer. As he drapes it over the back of the couch and rolls up his sleeves, you glance at him from the corner of your eye, trying not to be obvious about it.Â
Because itâs unfair, really. Heâs always been annoyingly attractive, but thereâs something different about seeing him like thisâsleeves rolled up to his forearms, tie loose, like heâs caught between polished professionalism and the boy you used to know.
Kuroo flops down next to you, stretching out his long legs. âYou know,â he muses, âyouâre getting a little too comfortable trash-talking your own husband.â
You freeze mid-chew. âExcuse me?â
His smirk widens. âOur wedding? First grade? Ring any bells?â
You roll your eyes, but your stomach flutters treacherously. âOh my god, not this again.â
âOh, yes, this again.â He props his chin on his hand, clearly reveling in your reaction. âIt was a beautiful ceremony. You wore that little yellow dress with the flowers on it, I looked dashing in my Spider-Man t-shirt, and Kenma officiated with a PokĂŠmon book instead of a Bible. Very classy.â
You scoff, tossing a balled-up napkin at him. âIt was a fake wedding.â
âThatâs not what you said at the time,â he counters, smug. âYou said weâd be married forever.â
You glare at him, but warmth is creeping into your cheeks. âI was six.â
âAnd yet,â he hums, leaning back against the couch, âyou still havenât divorced me.â
You want to argue. You really do. But the memory of that afternoonâstanding in your backyard, clutching a dandelion bouquet while Kuroo grinned at you with all the unearned confidence of an eight-year-oldâunfolds so vividly in your mind that you go momentarily speechless.
Itâs stupid how much of that day you remember. How he laced his fingers with yours, grinning like he had just won something. How Kenma droned through a âceremonyâ while barely looking up from his Game Boy. How, when it was over, Kuroo had squeezed your hand and whispered, Guess that means youâre stuck with me now, huh?
Heâd been right, even if you both did eventually grow up and start dating around. And yet, as you sit hereâknees almost touching on your too-small couch, the memory of that dandelion bouquet and his smug, gap-toothed grin dangling in the airâyou realize thereâs a piece of you that never truly left that backyard.
You swallow the last bit of the mini-slider, hoping itâll ground you. âSo,â you say, feigning a dismissive shrug, âwe grew up. We definitely child-broke-up.â
Kurooâs dark eyes glint with amusement as he shifts his weight, the couch cushions dipping under his long frame. âMm, I donât recall signing any annulment papers. Actually, I canât recall you ever giving me back my ring.â He holds up his left hand to wriggle his empty ring finger. âI guess I shouldâve at least invested in a proper Band-Aid ring for you.â
You make a face, ignoring how your heart lurches at the implied you he keeps tossing out, like heâs reminding you this is your storyâboth of yours. âBand-Aid ring, huh? How romantic. You really know how to woo a girl.â
âYou always did love PokĂŠmon bandages. Remember how you insisted on Bulbasaur for every scrape?â Thereâs an unmistakable fondness in his tone, and you wonder if heâs indulging in the same wave of nostalgia thatâs been drowning you since you let him through the door.
Trying not to give yourself away, you tilt your head, pretending to examine him. âI see your memory is as annoyingly perfect as ever.â
He flashes a grin. âI have an eye for important detailsâlike your shoe size, your favorite weird pizza topping combo, and the fact that you still havenât actually denied liking me.â
You snort, heat creeping up your neck. âIn your dreams, Tetsu. Where do you get off assuming things, anyway?â
He spreads his hands, tie swaying lightly at his chest. âCan you blame me? You did let me crash at your place. You drove all the way to JFK in rush-hour traffic just to pick me up. If thatâs not love, Iâm not sure what is.â
You open your mouth to argue but close it again when you realize youâve got nothing. Yes, you did pick him up. Yes, you did offer him half your bed. And yes, some traitorous part of you is glad heâs here, sprawled out in your living room, reminding you of all the reasons you used to practically worship him when you were a kid.
âYouâre insufferable,â you say finally, in a voice so soft it barely carries any bite.
Kuroo chuckles, shifting so heâs angled toward youâelbow braced on the back of the couch, one long leg tucked underneath the other. âGoes both ways, babyface. Youâve always driven me insane.â
The word always lingers in the space between you.
You try to distract yourself by flicking the TV volume higher, but the dating show is a blur. âSo how was the press conference?â you ask, setting the empty napkin aside. âAny major breakthroughs? More sponsors falling for your cheesy grin?â
His responding laugh is short, a bit self-conscious. âYou know how it is: they ask the same questionsâhow the tournamentâs being organized, who our top competitors are. I say the same rehearsed lines. Then I shake some hands and get out.â
âBet you loved the attention, though,â you tease, nudging his ankle with your foot.
âOf course,â he deadpans, âyou know me too well.â
A quiet pause descends as you both sink further into the cushions. The overhead lamp is dim, casting long shadows on the walls. It feels intimateâtoo intimate, almost. A far cry from the raucous energy of the press conference he mustâve attended.
âDo youâŚâ Youâre not sure why youâre hesitating. Maybe itâs the sudden vulnerability creeping in at the edges of your rib cage. âDo you ever miss being a kid? Everything felt simpler back then.â
His gaze settles on you, something soft reflecting in his eyes. âYeah. A lot, actually.â He reaches outâhesitates for a secondâthen pokes the side of your thigh. âBut Iâm glad some things havenât changed.â
Your breath catches. âLike what?â
A beat. Then: âLike you still call me out on my bullshit. Youâll still eat half my food if given the chance. You still follow your own weird rulesâlike never paying for Netflix because you say you can mooch off Kenma forever.â He grins. âAnd you still look at me the same way. Even if you wonât admit it.â
He doesnât elaborate further, and youâre too caught off guard to pry. Look at him the same wayâwhat does that mean, exactly? Youâre suddenly hyperaware of how close he is, how heâs studying you in the dim light, how the old tether between you two has always refused to snap, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.
âAnyway,â he says, shifting back with a little exhale, âgot any more of that stale popcorn? Iâm starving.â
You clear your throat, trying not to sound frazzled. âGo for it, but donât complain when it tastes like cardboard.â
He leans over, snagging the bowl from the couch cushion and taking a bite. âMmm, delicious cardboard.â
His faux-enthusiasm makes you roll your eyesâagain. But thereâs a familiar warmth curling in your stomach, almost like relief that this little moment is yours to share. Like youâve both come home, just for a second, to the world you used to know.
You let the show drone on in the background while the two of you work through the stale popcorn in comfortable silence. Every now and then, one of you drops a sarcastic remark or a joke about the contestants on-screen. But beneath the banter, thereâs something else stirringâa question youâre not sure either of you is ready to ask.
For now, you settle for glancing sideways at him, at the way his profile looks against the glow of the TV. You let yourself wonder, just briefly, what it would mean to take that childhood promise seriously again. And though you push the thought away almost as quickly as it comes, thereâs no denying the giddy little thrill that runs through you when you realize Kuroo might be thinking the exact same thing.
six.
Three days later, itâs the weekend, and youâre free of labs and classes. So obviously, thatâs the night Kuroo manages to wheedle you into going to one of his PR partiesâwith obviously, a Valentineâs theme because the entity in the sky hates you.Â
âI still canât believe I agreed to this,â you say in slight disbelief as you wait in the lobby of your apartment for your Lyft. Youâre just the slightest bit wine tipsy already and are stumbling a tad bit on your three-inch heels. Kuroo stabilises you with an arm, pulling you into him.Â
âYouâre such a lightweight,â he says, amused.Â
You scowl at him, nudging your heel against the toe of his polished dress shoe. âSays the guy who made me do a round of shots before we even left.â
Kuroo lifts his free hand in mock surrender, though the grin playing on his lips betrays zero remorse. âHey, I never forced anything. Youâre the one who decided itâd be a good idea to keep up with me.â
âYou can probably metabolize alcohol through sheer arrogance alone,â you mutter, leaning into him a bit more when your heel wobbles on the slick tile. The buildingâs lobby has a floor so shiny you can see your own reflection. You catch sight of how red your cheeks lookâdefinitely from the wine.
He snorts, sliding his arm more securely around your waist. âArrogance is a powerful superpower.â
Before you can retort, the Lyft driver texts that theyâve arrived, and you and Kuroo shuffle through the lobbyâs sliding doors. The crisp February air slaps you in the face, clearing some of the pinot-fueled haze from your head.
âGod,â you hiss, crossing your arms over your chest as you walk up to the waiting car. âWhy does it feel like itâs negative a thousand degrees out here?â
Kuroo hums sympathetically, tugging you close so you can huddle in his warmth. âIsnât it romantic? Attending a Valentineâs party in frigid weather, half-tipsy, with your beloved husbandââ
You jab him in the ribs. âDo. Not. Start.â
âOw.â He laughs, not sounding at all wounded, and opens the car door for you. âAlright, princess, letâs get you warmed up.â
You slide into the backseat, tucking your purse by your feet. Kuroo follows, closing the door. The car smells faintly of peppermint and some floral air freshener, and the driver has a local pop station on low volume.
âParty tonight, huh?â the driver says, catching a glimpse of your outfits in the rearview mirror. âHappy early Valentineâs Day.â
You force a polite smile. âYeah, itâs a work thing for⌠him.â You gesture vaguely at Kuroo, whoâs already fiddling with the seatbelt.
Kuroo pipes up, flashing an easy grin. âSheâs being modest. Sheâs the star of the show.â
You give him a side-eye, but your stomach flips a little at how casually he includes you in his world. âIâm definitely just background noise. Heâs the big fancy PR guy.â
He drapes an arm across the back of the seat, leaning in with that smug energy you always pretend to hate. âCâmon, babyface, we both know youâre the real highlight.â
The driver chuckles to himself at your banter and pulls out onto the main road.
The city lights blur by, and despite the wine, youâre keyed-up enough to notice just how close Kuroo is. His thigh presses against yours as the car bumps over a pothole, and you catch his scentâstill that overpriced cologne. You almost tease him for using the same brand since undergrad, but some part of you likes the familiarity too much to make fun of it.
Kuroo scrolls through his phoneâlikely checking last-minute details for the eventâand you let your gaze wander. You wonder what youâre walking into: a Valentineâs-themed volleyball PR party probably means pink cocktails, goofy heart-shaped decorations, and sponsors angling to chat up Kuroo for new deals.
You sigh softly, leaning back into the seat. At least youâre not teaching labs tomorrow.
Feeling your eyes on him, Kuroo pockets his phone and glances over. âYou okay?â he asks, voice quieter so the driver canât overhear. âToo tipsy?â
âBarely,â you lie. âIâm fine.â
He studies you for a moment, then nods. âIf you get overwhelmed or bored, just say the word, and Iâll whisk you out of there.â
Your heart does that unfortunate flip again. âI wonât hold you back from schmoozing with your sponsors,â you say, trying to sound casual.
Kuroo just shrugs. âEh. The only person I really need to impress is right here.â
He grins when you roll your eyes for the millionth time, but thereâs a note of sincerity in his gaze that makes your pulse stutter uncontrollably (and feeling less and less like itâs the wine).
seven.
The Lyft pulls up to a sleek downtown hotel with a bright red banner above the entrance: Welcome, Pre-Valentineâs Volleyball Gala! The curbside is abuzz with people stepping out of taxis and rideshares, all dressed in varying degrees of fancy.
You thank the driver and step out. Immediately, the cold hits you again, but Kurooâs hand is there, steady at your back. Together, you make your way through the glass doors into the lobby, which is decked out in pink and red balloons. You spot a heart-shaped ice sculpture near the reception desk and suppress a grimace.
âThis is⌠a lot,â you say under your breath, scanning the crowd. Everyone seems to be brandishing name tags and sipping champagne. A table off to the side offers color-coded wristbands for somethingââSingle,â âTaken,â âOpen to Networking,â and so on.
Kuroo leans in close, lips by your ear so you can hear him over the lounge music. âBrace yourself, babyface. Corporate Valentineâs chic in full force.â
You canât help a snort. âDonât call me babyface in front of everyone,â you hiss, trying not to look self-conscious.
He smirks. âFine. Mrs. Kuroo it is.â
You elbow him gently in the ribs, and he lets out a playful âOw!â just as a man in a suit rushes over to greet you.
âKuroo, hey!â The guy beams and extends a hand. âGlad you could make it. Weâve got the sponsors over by the bar, and the press is setting up in the lounge area.â
âThanks, Daichi,â Kuroo replies smoothly, shaking the manâs hand. âIâll swing by and say hello in a minute. Ohâthis is my plus-one.â
The manâs smile widens. âGreat to meet you!â He doesnât even blink at the slightly flustered expression on your face, just hands you both event badges. âWeâre color-coded, so choose whichever suits your mood. And enjoy the party!â
You glance at the bands in your hand: pink for âSingle,â purple for âOpen to Collaboration,â red for âTaken.â There are even gold ones for âVIP.â
âSeriously?â you mutter, turning to Kuroo. âThis is next-level marketing cheese.â
He laughs, plucking a gold band from a nearby tray and snapping it onto his wrist. âIâm definitely VIP, babe. No shame.â
Rolling your eyes, you settle for a purple oneââOpen to Collaborationâ seems neutral enough, right? You have no intention of wearing the pink âSingleâ band all night.
Kurooâs gaze flicks to it, and you catch a slight smirk before he ushers you forward into the main ballroom.
Which, by the way, is massive: vaulted ceilings, floating heart-shaped lanterns, a champagne fountain at the center. You can practically smell the wealth. A DJ in the corner is playing some inoffensive house music that somehow fits the glittery vibe.
âWow,â you breathe. âThey really didnât hold back.â
âVolleyball PR events rarely do,â Kuroo says, threading his fingers through yours before you can process it. Itâs casual and familiar, like heâs done this a thousand times, but your heart jumps all the same. âLetâs grab a drink, yeah?â
He guides you toward the open bar. A bartender in a bright red bow tie greets you with a grin, asking for your orders.
âChampagne for me,â Kuroo says, then glances down at you. âAnd for my lovely companionâŚ?â
You pause. âChampagneâs fine. Might as well fit the theme.â
As the bartender works his magic, you turn to Kuroo. âSo, whatâs the plan? Do we mingle for half an hour and then dip? Iâm not sure how long I can stand being reminded that Valentineâs Day is literally next week.â
Kurooâs eyebrow quirks. âArenât we hanging out anyway? We promised each other a palentineâs dateâremember?â
You feel your cheeks warm. âI remember. Just⌠these decorations are overkill.â
He hands you a champagne flute, then raises his own in a mock toast. âTo corporate romance,â he says with a smirk.
You clink glasses, taking a sip. The fizzy sweetness bursts across your tongue, and you canât help but think it tastes like anticipationâlike something is about to happen tonight that neither of you saw coming. Then you convince yourself that itâs just the alcohol.Â
Over the next twenty minutes, you watch as Kuroo does his jobâhe introduces you to a cluster of sponsors, some old teammates, and a few local sports reporters. Heâs charismatic in that effortless way heâs always been: breezing through small talk, sprinkling in jokes, and deflecting every flirty comment from others with easy charm.
You mostly hover by his side, alternately sipping champagne and trying not to feel out of place in your heels. Every so often, his fingers brush your elbow or settle low on your back, like heâs silently telling you: Youâre not alone here.
Itâs strangely reassuringâeven if you canât quite decide what it means.
Eventually, the crowd disperses into smaller clusters, and you manage to snag a moment of relative quiet near the pink-lit fountain in the center of the room.
âYou okay?â Kuroo asks again, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. âNot too bored?â
You shake your head. âIâm fine. Itâs actually kinda funny watching you switch between your used-car-salesman voice and your normal voice.â
He snorts. âYou want me to hit them with the real me? That might be too much for these delicate souls.â
âI can handle it,â you say, surprising even yourself with your boldnessâmaybe itâs the champagne.
Kurooâs gaze flickers, something mischievous in his eyes. âOh, I know you can handle me, babyface. Youâve done it since you were six, right?â
Your heart skips. He just wonât let you live that childhood wedding down. And, annoyingly, you donât really mind.
âStop it,â you say, but thereâs no heat in your voice. âAnyway, whatâs next on the agenda? Are you supposed to give a speech or something?â
He rakes a hand through his hair, making it even more disheveled. âNah, not tonight. Just an appearanceâshake some hands, charm some sponsors.â He shrugs, then lowers his voice. âWe could slip out soon, if you want. Go somewhere elseâsomewhere less⌠pink.â
The offer sits in the air between you. You canât help wondering what exactly heâs proposing. Drinks at a quieter bar? A late-night walk under the city lights? Going back to your apartment to continue that half-finished bottle of wine?
You muster a casual tone. âIâm not opposed. But wonât your absence be noticed?â
âI showed up, I mingled,â he says, brushing off your concern. âThatâs enough for them.â
He flashes that signature grinâso easy, so Kurooâand a flutter of nostalgia collides with the champagne buzz in your bloodstream. You think about how this night started: you, tipsy in your lobby, letting him steady you on your heels. You think about Valentineâs Day looming, and how all of this might be leading to something (which, youâre still trying to figure out if itâs good or bad).
âAlright,â you say, taking another sip from your glass. âOne more round of goodbyes, then we escape.â
Kurooâs eyes linger on you, almost thoughtful. âDeal.â
He downs the rest of his champagne and sets the empty flute on a nearby tray, offering you his arm. The little gesture makes you laugh under your breath; heâs always half-joking, half-serious. But you slip your hand into the crook of his elbow all the same, taking advantage of the momentâyou grin.Â
He is your date tonight, after all.
eight.
You two end up at a 99cent pizza shop.
Itâs one of those shitty ones, where the lights blink every other second and are open 24/7 and catering exclusively to drunk people. You order a pepperoni slice (which is $1.50, absolutely criminal), Kuroo gets a slice with mushrooms and peppers like a weirdo, and a ten-piece garlic knots because youâre both absolute whores for shitty food.Â
The cashier barely looks up as you pass over a crumpled bill, his expression one of pure indifference. Itâs the kind of place where no one gives a shit if you waltz in wearing a ballgown or, in Kurooâs case, an untucked dress shirt and a loosened tie that screams former professionalism turned reckless abandon.
Kuroo nudges your shoulder as he grabs the tray of food. âFind us a seat, babyface.â
You glance around. The booths are occupied by a mix of exhausted bar-hoppers, students pulling all-nighters with greasy paper plates in front of them, and one guy hunched over, presumably contemplating his life choices. Classic New York.
You settle for a two-seater in the back corner, mostly because itâs the only spot that doesnât look like itâll give you tetanus. Kuroo sets the tray down between you, sliding into the seat across from you with that ridiculous, smug expression that hasnât left his face all night.
âYouâre staring,â you say flatly, reaching for a garlic knot.
He props his chin on his hand, unbothered. âYou look cute.â
Your hand freezes mid-air. âWhat?â
Kuroo, the absolute bastard, takes a slow bite of his pizza like he didnât just casually drop a grenade into your bloodstream. âI said, you look cute.â He gestures vaguely at you with his slice. âAll dressed up in a shitty pizza joint. Very Serena van der Woodsen in Gossip Girl vibes.â
You recover quickly, snorting as you take a bite of your garlic knot. âYou did not just compare me to Serena van der Woodsen.â
âHey, I know my pop culture references.â He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. âBut seriously. I like this look on you.â
The warmth in your chest spreads far too quickly. You shove it down with a bite of pizza. âIf youâre trying to butter me up, itâs not gonna work.â
Kuroo smirks. âYou sure? It worked when we were kids.â
You shoot him a look. âI was six. You bribed me with strawberry Pocky.â
âAnd you fell for it every time,â he says, grinning. âYou were so easy to manipulate.â
You kick him lightly under the table, but thereâs no real venom behind it. He just chuckles and takes another bite of his pizza, chewing thoughtfully before glancing at you again.
âSo,â he says after a moment. âWhat was the verdict on tonight? Was it as painful as you thought?â
You hesitate, twirling the crust of your pizza between your fingers. The thing is, you actually had fun. Not just tolerable, get-through-it-and-leave fun, but actual, laughing-with-Kuroo-in-the-middle-of-a-stuffy-corporate-party fun. The realization makes your stomach flip.
âIt was fine,â you say, playing it cool. âDrinks were good. Company was tolerable.â
Kuroo barks out a laugh. âTolerable? Damn, Iâll take it.â
You roll your eyes, but the way heâs looking at youâso easy, so damn fondâmakes it hard to breathe for a second.
You clear your throat, glancing down at your plate. âAnyway, it was nice to see you in work mode. You actually seemed like a functional adult.â
Kuroo sighs dramatically. âI know, itâs exhausting.â
You snort. âI imagine so. Having to use, like, three brain cells at a time.â
âItâs really pushing my limits,â he says with an obnoxious frown.Â
The conversation drifts into easy territoryâinside jokes, exaggerated retellings of childhood disasters, a debate about whether New York pizza is actually better than Tokyoâs (you say yes, he remains stubbornly neutral). It feels natural, like slipping into an old sweater that still fits perfectly despite the years.
At some point, he reaches across the table, swiping a garlic knot straight off your plate.
âHey,â you protest, swatting at his hand too late.
Kuroo just smirks, popping the whole thing into his mouth. âPossession is nine-tenths of the law, babyface.â
âPossession is going to be me slapping you in the face if you steal another one.â
âViolence,â he muses, chewing. âThatâs how you treat your childhood husband?â
Your face heats. âTetsu.â
He winks. âRelax. Iâll buy you more next time.â
Next time.
The words hang there for a second longer than necessary. He says it like itâs a given, like thisâyou and him, nights like thisâis a thing that should keep happening.
And the stupidest part? You donât hate the idea⌠not even a little bit.
You pick up another garlic knot, breaking eye contact like thatâll do anything to slow your heartbeat. âYou better buy me more.â
Kuroo just leans back, watching you like he already knows something you donât, and you are slightly terrified of whatever that implies.
nine.
Monday night, after you get home from an excruciating day of labwork (like⌠you entered at 6 AM and left the next day at 2 AMâyouâre really going through it these days), Kuroo is already changed and in his pajamas, reading a book and playing a vinyl you bought when you went through your #artsy stage. He looks up with a smile from his spot sprawled across your couch as you come in, drop your keys on the side table, and promptly collapse on the floor.
âIâm so tired,â you wail, fake sniffling, slumped against the wall. Kuroo looked momentarily alarmed until your pleading; he lets out an exhale thatâs vaguely close to a laugh when he realises youâre just being dramatic.
âWelcome home,â he says, his smile practically audible in his voice. âTake it you had a long few day⌠days.â
You sigh, nodding, wobbling over to the couch and plopping on top of him. Youâre so tired you donât even care about the proximityâyou want to lie down, right now. âYeah. But I think Iâve discovered something pretty interesting, so Iâm hoping I can get into Neuron this time around.â
âYouâll get it,â Kuroo says completely calmly, sounding insanely confident in you. He doesnât even look away from his bookâjust lifts his arms enough to let you put your head on his chest, and then resting them against your shoulder blades. âSmartest girl I know.â
â...Shut up,â you mutter, burying your face into his t-shirt to hide your embarrassment.Â
You let out a weary groan, face still hidden in Kurooâs t-shirt, and he just chuckles under his breath, shifting slightly so you can get more comfortable. His hand finds its way into your hair, fingers raking through it in a surprisingly soothing motionâlike itâs the most natural thing in the world.
âCanât believe youâre still awake,â he remarks, eyes darting back to his book. âLook like youâre about to pass out any second.â
âVery astute observation,â you mumble into the soft cotton. âNothing gets past you.â
He snorts, lightly tapping your shoulder in retribution before turning a page. âHey, just looking out for my genius scientist here. Big day tomorrow, right?â
Your face scrunches up in confusion. âBig day? I mean, I guess I have more lab stuffâŚâ
Kuroo tilts his head, arching an eyebrow at you like youâve said something ridiculous. âNot that,â he says, exasperated. âValentineâs Day, babyface. Remember?â
Your heart does a quick, uncomfortable skip. Valentineâsânot Palentineâs. The difference lands in your head like a small explosion, especially considering youâve both been referring to it as Palentineâs up âtil now.
âO-oh,â you stammer eloquently, trying to recover. âRight. Valentineâs. Sure.â
He watches you carefully, eyes gleaming with amusement as he gently closes his book. âYou didnât forget our plans, did you?â
Plans. Right. He invited you for somethingâice skating or a movie, or maybe both. Youâd said yes in that flustered, Iâm-pretending-this-is-just-a-friendly-thing way. But the way heâs saying it now, with that particular lilt in his voice, has your mind racing.
You force yourself to sit up slightly, though you donât leave the comfort of lying half-on-top of him. âIâuh. I didnât forget. I guess Iâm just⌠used to calling it Palentineâs.â
Kuroo smirks, brushing a thumb across your cheek with casual familiarity. âOh, right. My bad. I mustâve slipped.â
Slipped, he says, which makes your pulse do an annoying little flutter.
âI mean, itâs not like it matters,â you continue quickly, your words tripping over themselves. âWeâre just hanging outâlike always. Whether we call it Valentineâs or Palentineâs or âTuesdayâ⌠right?â
He hums in responseâlow in his throat, almost thoughtfulâwhile his hand drifts from your hair to the back of your neck in a comforting weight. âSure,â he says, a bit too lightly to be casual. âWhatever you wanna call it.â
The tone in his voice suggests that maybe it does matter, that maybeâjust maybeâhe doesnât want to hide behind the âPalentineâsâ façade anymore.
A moment of silence settles between you, broken only by the faint crackle of your old vinyl spinning and the ever-present traffic outside. Your nerves feel strung tight as a bitch, and you wonder if he can sense how tense youâve suddenly gone.
âAnyway,â he says, clearly trying to alleviate some of the awkwardness, âI was thinking we could do something painfully clichĂŠ tomorrow. Romantic comedy marathon, maybe. Or that ice-skating idea. Hot chocolate, the works.â
You glance up at him, meeting his gaze. âThat sounds⌠nice.â You fidget with a loose thread on his t-shirt, trying not to overthink every micro-expression on his face. âYou sure you wonât be busy with, like, sponsor stuff, orââ
Kuroo rolls his eyes, but thereâs a smile tugging at his lips. âAre you kidding? Iâd rather be with youâbinging Netflix, falling on my face on the rinkâthan stuck in another press conference.â He gives a lazy shrug, but his eyes donât leave yours. âBesides, Iâm all yours tomorrow.â
Iâm all yours.
Thereâs that pesky little flutter in your chest again, ramping up several notches. You wonder if he can feel your heart pounding where youâre still sprawled half-across his torso. Possibly. Probably.
âThatâs⌠good,â you manage, trying not to think too hard about the myriad ways Valentineâs could be interpreted. Trying not to let the prospect of him wanting moreâmaybe wanting youâsend you into a full-blown panic. Because a teeny, traitorous part of you is really hoping thatâs what it means.
âNow,â he says, clearly sensing the rabbit hole your mind might be running down. âItâs past midnight, and youâve had, what, negative hours of sleep?â
âThatâs not even physically possible,â you argue, though your eyelids suddenly feel very heavy.
âSure it is,â he counters, wrapping an arm more snugly around your waist as he tugs a throw blanket from the back of the couch. âIâm pretty sure youâre living proof. Câmon. Letâs just crash right here for a bit.â
You donât have the energy to protest, and honestly? The idea of dozing off to the low hum of the vinyl, warm against Kurooâs chest, is downright tempting. Besides, youâll have to drag yourself to bed eventuallyâbut for now, this cozy bubble is enough.
âFine,â you mumble, feeling your limbs already going slack. âBut if I drool on you, itâs your own fault for not kicking me off.â
He laughs quietly, letting the book he was reading slip onto the coffee table. âIâll live. Iâve survived worse. Like the time you threw up all over me after that carnival ride in middle school.â
You grumble something incoherent in protest, too exhausted to muster a real comeback. The corners of his mouth twitch in amusement, and he shifts just enough to angle you more comfortably against him.
As your eyes flutter shut, you canât stop replaying the word Valentineâs in your head. Tomorrow. Kuroo said it so easily, like it was obvious. Like it was a given that you wouldnât just be celebrating as friends or old childhood buddies. Warmth pools in your chest, a mix of excitement and nerves. Maybe youâll just have to see how tomorrow plays outâmaybe youâll finally figure out if this⌠thing youâve been dancing around for so long is actually real.
Because if thereâs one thing you are sure about, itâs that Kuroo has always had a way of turning your world on its axis. And this time, you really hope he doesnât stop at Palentineâs.
ten.
You wake up to the smell of french toast.
Which, honestly, you lowkey donât love nearly as much as waffles. But you arenât going to be picky after your crash out last night.Â
You stumble into the kitchen, vaguely rubbing your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie, blinking away the sleep to read the Eevee alarm clock Kenma bought you when you moved in. 12:19PM. Honestly not your worst: once, during finals season in your undergrad years, you pulled a three-day all-nighter and passed out for sixteen straight hours after. Kuroo had to practically drag you out of your dorm room after that one; he and Kenma basically froze your phone with the amount of texts they sent in a futile attempt to wake you up.Â
Kurooâs back is to you as he stands at the stove, his compression shirt accentuating his muscle definition. He looks straight up like a model youâd see at the mall in a Calvin Klein billboard, and it makes you flush as you remember he said Valentineâs last night. He senses you without even turning aroundâhe, without even bothering to look up, says, âMorninâ, babyface. Do you want strawberries or whipped cream?â
âYou doubt me. Both,â you snort, stepping closer. Despite your attempt at nonchalance, your stomach flips when you get closer and can see just how freakishly good he looks in that stupid ass shirt. The memory of him casually calling it Valentineâs still sizzles in the back of your mind.
Kuroo casts you a brief over-the-shoulder grin. âBoth it is, princess.â He deftly flips a slice of french toast on the pan, the sweet, eggy aroma curling toward your nose. âHope youâre hungry. I got a little carried away.â
âOh, Iâm starving,â you say, eyeing the small stack of bread slices heâs already prepared on a plate. âSeriously, I might eat all of this. If you donât move fast, you wonât get any.â
He chuckles, dropping another piece of bread into the batter. âNoted. Iâll keep that in mind while I guard my breakfast with my life.â
You open the fridge for the strawberries, and sure enough, thereâs also a can of whipped cream on the shelfâKuroo came prepared. âI canât believe you actually planned this,â you mutter under your breath, rifling around. âIs this your way of bribing me to be your Valentine?â
He pretends to think about it. âMight be. If it works, Iâll make waffles next time, too.â
You huff a laugh, grateful your face is still hidden in the fridge so he canât see the fond smile spreading across your lips. Might be. Itâs clear heâs leaning full-throttle into the idea of spending this entire Valentineâs Day with you. The thought warms you more than you want to admit.
Sliding the carton of strawberries onto the counter, you catch him drizzling a bit of honey on the toast. âFancy,â you tease, dragging out the syllable.
Kuroo shrugs one shoulder. âHey, canât help being an overachiever. BesidesâŚâ He flips off the stove burner and slides the last slice of french toast onto the plate, stacking it neatly. âI missed this.â
You glance up, curiosity and something else tangling in your chest. âThis? Cooking breakfast?â
He sets the spatula aside, turns around, and leans against the counter. âCooking breakfast for you,â he clarifies, pausing as if testing how youâll react. âYâknow, we used to hang out all the timeâbefore you left for New York. I guess it just reminded me of those days. Late nights, lazy mornings, that sort of thing.â
Your cheeks warm at his candidness. âWe still hung out a bit after we graduated,â you offer, though you know it was never the same once youâd moved halfway across the globe for grad school.
Kuroo nods, his hand lingering on the handle of the frying pan as if he needs something to ground himself. âYeah, but once you officially moved here? We both got busy. Kenma did his whole streaming empire thing, I jumped into work. And you wereââ
âNeck-deep in studies,â you finish for him, remembering those endless days in the lab, how youâd chug energy drinks and blink against fluorescent lights until your eyes burned.
Kuroo taps the counter with his knuckles, a soft exhale escaping him. âUh-huh. And Kenma and I, well⌠we kinda promised each other we wouldnât make a big deal about how much we missed you.â He flashes a small, wry grin. âFigured you already had enough to worry about without dealing with our whining.â
You pause, strawberries in hand, staring at him. âWait. You both made that promise?â
He nods, and for once, you catch the hint of sheepishness in his expression. âWe might have texted constantly about how weird it was without you around,â he admits, chuckling under his breath. âBut we agreed to keep it low-key so you could focus on your research. Didnât want you feeling guilty if you started missing home too much.â
Your chest tightens. âIâGod, thatâs so stupid of you guys.â
He arches an amused eyebrow. âStupid?â
âI would have been fine!â you insist, though a pang of fondness (and maybe regret) flickers through you. âYeah, Iâd have been sad, but I wouldâve rather known. Going months without hearing from you two sometimes was way worse.â
He huffs a laugh, pushing off the counter to move closer. âYeah, guess in hindsight, it wasnât the best plan. But we were, what, twenty? Twenty-one? And mostly worried youâd drop out of grad school to come home if we made you feel bad.â
âDrop out?â You roll your eyes. âPlease, as if Iâd ever let you be that important.â
Kuroo tosses you a smirk, but thereâs a gratefulness in his gaze. âHey, Iâm plenty important. Just not more important than a doctorate in neuroscience.â
âDamn straight,â you retort, but your heart is pounding too hard for sarcasm to land with its usual punch. He missed you. More than thatâhe and Kenma both actively hid how much they missed you, just so you wouldnât feel sad or guilty. Thatâs⌠an annoying level of sweet.
Before you can dwell on it, he gestures to the french toast. âAnyway, letâs eat? Unless youâd rather stand here and get all sentimental.â
âShut up,â you mutter, but your tone is more flustered than harsh. âGive me the plate.â
He hands it over with a dramatic bow, then grabs the strawberries and whipped cream to set on the table. You both sit across from each other, and he insists on adding the toppings to your serving, swirling an absurd amount of whipped cream atop each slice.
âSeriously,â you scold, swatting his wrist when he wonât stop pressing the nozzle, âwe donât need that much foam sugar.â
He just laughs. âOh, come on, babyface. Live a little.â
âHmm,â you reply, biting the inside of your cheek to hide your grin. âFine. But if I get a sugar crash in like two hours, youâre dealing with the aftermath.â
He mock-salutes you. âYes, maâam.â
Itâs a small, silly moment, but something in the easy way you banterâespecially right after that confession about how hard it was when you leftâmakes your chest swell with warmth. Perhaps itâs just the Valentineâs vibe that has your mind spinning in circles, but you canât help wondering what heâs getting at here.
You try a bite, letting the sweetness and cinnamon melt on your tongue. âDamn,â you mumble through a mouthful, âthis is actually pretty good.â
âPretty good?â He sets a hand against his heart in mock offense. âI slaved away in the kitchenââ
âWhat, for like ten minutes?â you interrupt, snickering. âYep, truly backbreaking labor.â
He pretends to wipe away a tear. âYour gratitude is overwhelming.â
Despite the teasing, he looks satisfied when you reach for another slice. You donât miss how his eyes follow the movement, nor how his gaze lingers on your face, like heâs taking mental snapshots of you enjoying the meal. Itâs disconcertingly tenderâespecially for a guy whoâs teased you your entire life.
Eventually, when youâve both eaten more than enough, you lean back in your chair, hand resting on your full stomach. âAll right, Chef Kuroo. That was acceptable. Now whatâs the plan for the rest of Valentineâs Day, hmm?â
He clears his throat, fiddling with a piece of crust on his plate. âWell, we could go ice skating laterâlike we talked about. If youâre still up for it. Or we could do that rom-com marathon and eat a bunch of store-bought chocolate. Or both.â
âThatâs⌠definitely an option,â you say slowly, feeling a little thrill ripple through you at how nonchalant youâre trying to be. âWhich one first?â
He meets your eyes, a hint of a smirk curving his lips. âWhy not flip a coin?â
You snort, standing up and collecting the dishes. âNo way. I have the worst luck with coin tosses.â
âThen Iâll rig it so you win.â Kuroo grins, pushing back his chair to follow you to the sink.Â
âAnd you call me the overachiever,â you toss over your shoulder, cranking on the faucet. You start rinsing plates, the soap suds foaming around your fingers.
âMm,â he murmurs, stepping up behind you. âAt least let me help.â
He crowds in, reaching to take the plate from your hand. You donât protestâmostly because your entire body goes rigid at the realization of how close heâs standing. His chin practically brushes your temple, and you can feel the warmth radiating off him in waves.
For a moment, neither of you moves. The only sound is the running water, the faint drip of the faucet, and the thud of your own heartbeat in your ears. You canât help the way your breath catches.
âYou okay?â he asks quietly, noticing your sudden stillness.
âYeah,â you manage, forcing yourself to relax. âJust spacing out.â
His lips twitch into a small, understanding smile. âSame here.â Then, with a deft motion, he takes the plate from you and resumes scrubbing, shoulders barely an inch from yours in your cramped kitchen.
This shouldnât feel so charged, right? Heâs just helping you do dishes. But everything with Kuroo feels different this morningâlike thereâs some invisible line you both keep brushing against, neither one wanting to take the leap but both too invested to step back.
When the last plate is clean, he sets it on the drying rack, shuts off the water, and dries his hands with a dishrag. âSo,â he says, turning to you. âBreakfast? Check. Next item on the Valentineâs agenda?â
You roll your eyesâcanât believe youâre actually calling it Valentineâs now, you think, but you donât correct him. Instead, you tilt your head, as if deep in thought. âWell, you did promise me cheesy romance, so maybe we do the rom-com marathon first and ice skating afterward, if we still have time.â
His grin is immediate. âSounds perfect.â He turns and saunters toward your living room, tossing the dishrag onto the counter. âIâll pick the first movie?â
Youâre about to agree when you suddenly rememberâhe said heâd rig the coin toss. So you raise an eyebrow. âWait, how do I know youâre not just rigging this in your favor?â
Kuroo snorts, grabbing the TV remote. âHey, Iâm giving you exactly what you want, babyface. I call that your favor.â
You roll your eyes for the millionth time, but you canât keep the small smile off your face as you follow him into the living room. For the first time in a long while, you feel lightâlike maybe the missing piece of your life that you left behind in Tokyo is right here, making you french toast and joking about Valentineâs Day.
eleven.
You easily binge Netflixâs Love Is In The Air recommendations for several hours, to the point where, by the time that you wrap up The Kissing Booth 3, the sun has already started to set. Outside your fourth floor apartment, you have a relatively unobstructed view of the way the sky melds into a blend of purples and blues, casting shadows and making your living roomâs lighting feel even warmer.
Somehow (you say, knowing full well that you climbed into this position with full intentions of doing so) you end up curled up in Kurooâs arms, one of your legs draped over his thigh while his arm wraps snugly around your shoulders. His other hand lazily scrolls through the Netflix homepage, searching for the next rom-com victim. You barely pay attention, thoughâtoo busy noticing how ridiculously warm he is, how easy it is to fit against him, and how the dark colors of the setting sun outside look so damn pretty.
Finally, after a half-hearted scroll through the Looking For The One category, you decide: âIâm hungry. Letâs get sushi.â
He perks up, setting down the remote. âNow youâre speaking my language. Which place should we order from?â
âThereâs this little spot a few blocks away that does really fresh rolls,â you say, grabbing your phone from the cushion beside you. âThey deliver in like fifteen minutes, too.â
Kuroo nods, giving you a light squeeze. âCool. Just let me know how much I owe you. Or consider it your Valentineâs gift to me, I guess.â He snickers.
You roll your eyes at the terrible suggestion, pulling up the menu on your phone. âIâve got it, Iâm feeling generous. Plus, this place is kinda special to me anyway.â
He raises an eyebrow. âSpecial? Because the sushiâs that good?â
You shift, trying to type your order without meeting his eyes. âUhh⌠well, an ex brought me here once. That was back in like, grad school.â
Kurooâs hand stills against your arm. âExcuse me?â he says, feigning dramatic outrage. âI canât believe youâd talk about your sordid affairs on Valentineâs Day, babyface. You wound me.â
You snort, giving him a playful shove that doesnât move him even an inch. âRelax, it was ages ago. Itâs not like it was a big deal. I mostly liked him because he kinda looked likeââ You stop mid-sentence, eyes widening.
âKinda looked like⌠what?â Kuroo parrots, amused suspicion lighting up his features. âFinish that sentence.â
You clamp your mouth shut and tap furiously on your phone screen instead. âNothing. Just forget it.â
His eyes narrow. âOh, no no no, you donât get to drop that bomb and then pretend it never happened. Spill.â
âItâs none of your business,â you reply swiftly, your cheeks burning. âAnd for the record, itâs definitely not what youâre thinking.â
He sets his jaw, locking you in place by tightening the arm wrapped around you. âAlright, guess Iâll have to guess. Letâs seeâyou liked him because he kinda looked likeâŚâ He pauses, tapping a finger to his chin in exaggerated thought. âMe?â
âOh my god, no,â you say, maybe a bit too quickly. âThatâd be weird, Tetsu. Youâreâwell, youâre you.â
Something fleetingly vulnerable flashes across his face. He frowns a little, brow knitting. âDo you really think so?â His tone goes quiet, serious in a way that has your stomach dropping.
Your pulse stutters. âWait, no, I didnât meanââ You flail, phone clattering onto the cushion as you try to find his gaze. âI justâlook, itâs not weird. Of course IâI mean, you know Iââ You exhale shakily, feeling your words tumble over themselves. âI like you, Tetsu. Please donât be upset.â
Thereâs a beat of tense silence⌠and then Kuroo bursts out laughing. Actual, stomach-jostling laughter. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose as he struggles to compose himself, and you realize, with rapidly boiling annoyance, that heâs been messing with you.
âYou jerk!â you sputter, smacking him on the arm. âThat wasnât funny! I thought I actually hurt your feelings.â
He just grins, easily absorbing your weak swats. âAw, sorry, babyface. You shouldâve seen your face, though.â
Your cheeks feel molten. âI hate you sometimes, you know?â
âMm-hmm,â he drawls, pulling you back against him, his palm smoothing over your shoulder. âBut the good news is, now I know you do like me. And that some of your exes looked like me, which is a really nice ego boost.â
You groan, burying your face against his chest. âShut up.â
He keeps talking anyway, voice taking on a more pensive note. âI mean, itâs not like I can judge. I think about you whenever I meet someone new.â
Slowly, you lift your head, eyebrows knitting. âWhat do you mean?â
He shrugs one shoulder, as if itâs no big deal. âJust, like, whenever I go on a date, I find myself comparing them to you. Theyâre never as funny or as smart, or I wonder if theyâd get along with Kenma the way you obviously do⌠that kind of thing.â
You stare at him, mouth slightly open. âTetsuâŚâ Youâre not sure how to respond to that confession. Warmth and a spike of adrenaline rush through you, and you can only open and close your mouth in silence.
At your speechlessness, Kuroo just laughs, scrunching his nose in amusement. âAw, come on. Itâs not that shocking, is it?â
âUh,â you manage, blinking. âIâuh.â
Your brain is short-circuiting, so you do the only thing that makes sense in your frazzled state: you announce, âIâm gonna go pee.â
âWhat?â He snorts. âReally? Thatâs your best response to my heartfelt confession?â
âYou think I chose this response?â you squeak, scrambling to your feet. Your cheeks feel like they could combust. âI donât control your unfiltered romantic drivel, and you donât control my bladder, okay?â
Kuroo just shakes his head in disbelief, though his eyes gleam with delight. âIâm not stopping you, babyface. Go pee. The sushiâll be here in a few minutes anyway.â
You nod, fleeing the scene for the bathroom, heart pounding in your ears. Even as you slam the door behind you, you can hear him chuckling softly in the living room.
Leaning against the bathroom door, you take a steadying breath. He compares everyone to you. You literally admitted you like him, too. And heâs laughing, because this is all apparently just⌠normal. Suddenly, the entire dynamic shiftsâlike everything youâve both been dancing around for so long is right there, out in the open, and youâre not quite sure what to do next.
Well, you do know one thing: you really do need to pee.
âOkay,â you mutter, âpriorities.â
And as you step toward the toilet, part of you wonders how to keep your composure once you walk back out to himâbecause from here on out, thereâs no more pretending you donât both feel something real.
twelve.
After peeing and washing your hands with your favorite bougie ass soap (Christmas gift from your boss; you could never afford it at department store rates), you whip out your phone and call Kenma. You know itâs 8 AM over there, so thereâs a good chance youâll be waking up your brother, but you donât care because you need his objective opinion right now.
It takes until the third call, but on the fourth ring, he finally picks up.Â
âWhat?â he mumbles groggily. âI was sleeping.â
âSorry, but I donât care. Give me some good advice right now,â you hiss into your phone, pacing back and forth in front of your shower like a maniac.
You hear fabric rustling, followed by a prolonged yawn. âFine. I bet it has to do with Kuro.â
You freeze, biting down on your lip. â...Maybe.â
âUgh,â Kenma sighs. âI literally canât believe youâre calling me about him at eight in the morning.â
âItâs not that early, yâknow.â
He grumbles something incoherent under his breath, then says more clearly, âSo whatâs the crisis? Iâm not sure how many brain cells I have at this hour.â
You rub your forehead, letting out a strangled groan. âKenma, is it weird if I kindaâI donât knowâwanna make out with him? Like, a lot? Maybe not just make outâmaybe, like, really make outââ You shake your head vigorously, cheeks flaming. âBut is that weird?â
Thereâs silence on the other end for a long moment. Then Kenmaâs voice, flat as ever: âThatâs my sister and my best friend youâre talking about. Gross. But also not really weird. Because I literally officiated your wedding in second grade, remember? You two are basically old news.â
You squeeze your eyes shut, your free hand clenching at your side. âOh my God, not you too. Kuroo keeps bringing it up, and now youâre enabling him. When did that wedding even become a real memory to everyone but me?â
âUh, itâs always been a memory. You wore a yellow dress, he had a Spider-Man t-shirt, I was reading from a PokĂŠmon handbook.â He yawns. âI was, like, seven, but I still remember, because Kuro wouldnât shut up about it. And apparently, still wonât.â
âYeah, well,â you huff, pacing faster. âHe mentions it daily, I swear, and itâs driving me insaneâlike, I get it, we had a pretend wedding when we were literal children. Does he have to bring it up every chance he gets?â
Kenmaâs voice goes deadpan. âHe brings it up because he likes you, dumbass.â
Your pacing halts so abruptly you almost trip over the bathroom mat. â...Oh.â
A beat passes; the only sound is your heart thudding in your ears.
âYeah,â Kenma continues, dry as day-old toast. âHeâs liked you forever. Youâve liked him forever. Youâre both idiots. Congrats.â
You gawk at the phone, mind spinning. âWaitâheâheâs alwaysâŚ? Does everyone know this except me?â
Kenma yawns again, unperturbed. âProbably. I mean, we werenât exactly subtle growing up. Dad used to tell me he was more worried about you running off with Tetsu than, like, your middle school crushes.â
You gape. âSeriously?â
âMhm.â You hear the faint click of a laptop or a Switchâknowing Kenma, heâs probably opening up a game to pass the time. âAnyway, is that all you needed to ask? Because Iâd like to get at least another hour of sleep.â
You groan, but you canât quell the swirl of hope rising in your chest. âThis is⌠surreal. He just told me earlierâlike, not directly, but he basically said he thinks about me whenever he meets someone new. And I mightâve implied I like him tooâoh God, Kenma, what do I do?â
Heâs quiet for a moment, presumably considering. âMake out with him. I donât know. You literally said thatâs what you want to do.â
âThatâs it? Thatâs your profound, brotherly wisdom?â
âWhat else do you want me to say?â he drones. âYou both already know you like each other. This was the most obvious outcome in the world. Just do your thing, get it out of your system. Or get married again if you want. Could be a nice full-circle moment.â
You let out a mortified noise, pressing your forehead to the cool tile of your bathroom wall. âYouâreâurgh, never mind. Thanks, Kenma.â
âYeah, yeah,â he mutters. âTell Kuro he owes me five bucks for something⌠Iâll think of a reason later. Bye.â
Before you can protest, he hangs up, leaving you with your phone still pressed to your ear. You stare at the blank screen, a mix of exasperation and relief swirling through your chest.
He likes you. You like him. Youâre idiotsâKenmaâs words, not yours. And apparently, neither of you has been hiding it as well as you thought.
You inhale slowly, trying to calm your racing heart. Then you square your shoulders. âOkay,â you say to yourself, âI can do this. Just⌠go out there and act normal. Or as normal as possible while wanting to jump his bones. Easy.â
With that pep talk, you push off the wall, open the bathroom door, and step into the hallway, with completely unfounded confidence in yourself.
thirteen.
That confidence goes straight out the window because as soon as you walk back, you are caught off-guard by Kuroo standing in the middle of your living room, hands behind his back and wearing the guiltiest expression youâve ever seen, obviously hiding something from your view. Youâre scared, and immediately a little suspicious.Â
âWhat are you doing?â you ask warily, taking very slow, careful steps toward him. âWhat is that?â
He ignores the question entirely, instead breaking into a triumphant grin. âBabyface,â he declares, âI have a Valentineâs Day gift for you.â
All the tension in your shoulders uncoils in one quick moment of relief. âOh.â You snort, rolling your eyes. âOkay, this should be good. What is itâa frog? A cricket? Remember when you gave me that cricket in fourth grade?â
Kuroo stifles a laugh, as if recalling the memory of your horrified shriek when you opened a tiny shoebox to find a chirping insect. âI was trying to teach you about biology. You always liked science-y stuff,â he defends. âBesides, a cricket is romantic if you think about it long enough.â
âOh my god,â you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. âPlease donât tell me thatâs whatâs behind your back right now.â
He steps forward, eyes warm with mirth. âI promise. This is way better.â
He produces a small, flat object from behind himâa rectangular folder, sealed by a thin, glossy cover. At first, youâre genuinely perplexed. Itâs too big to be a normal card, and thereâs no way itâs a book, unless itâs some custom print job. The corners are crisp, the material looks like maybe photo paper. Curiosity coaxes you closer.
Catching your confusion, Kuroo grins wider. âLook inside.â
With a hint of skepticism, you slip your fingers under the cover, peeling it back. Inside is a high-quality color printâlike a medical scan or something from a research article. Black-and-gray cross-sections and bright neon highlights fill your vision, and as you blink, trying to parse the image, your mouth goes dry. You recognize the shape of a human brain from an fMRI scan: swirling patterns in vivid oranges and reds indicating activated regions.
âIs this⌠an fMRI?â you breathe, your hand trembling slightly as you lift the print to the light. Definitely an fMRI, your trained eye confirmsâdistinct slices, certain labeling, the faint text from the imaging software. âTetsu, why the hell are you giving meâŚ?â
He shifts, almost shy, scratching the back of his neck. âI asked one of the JVAâs partnered sports med facilities to do a little favor for me.â A pause. âA small, borderline unethical favor.â
Your eyes dart back to the vibrant splotches. âThe nucleus accumbens,â you whisper, tapping a bright orange blob near the center. âAnd the hippocampus. Theyâre⌠lit up.â You draw in a sharp breath. âThese areas activate when youâreââ
ââexperiencing motivation, reward, or strong emotional attachment,â he finishes gently, voice hushed. âLike, for instance, thinking about someone you love.â
Your heart stutters so violently you nearly drop the print. âSo, youâthis is⌠from your brain?â you manage, your throat suddenly tight.
Kuroo nods, looking almost bashful, which is a jarring contrast to his usual smug confidence. âThey scanned me while I was, uh⌠focusing on a particular mental image.â He glances away, expression uncharacteristically shy. âI figured youâd like the hard data. You being a scientist and all.â
You force yourself to swallow past the dryness in your mouth. âYouâre telling me you literally got an fMRI done while thinking about⌠someone?â Your voice trembles on the last word, and you canât quite meet his eye.
He exhales a quick laugh. âUh-huh. Didnât take long. I just, you know, had to fill out some forms, promise it was for a PR stunt about brain health or something. Then I, well, closed my eyes and picturedââ
âWho?â you interrupt, not even caring that you sound breathless. Youâre clutching the fMRI print so hard you can feel the edges biting into your fingertips.
Kurooâs grin turns downright sheepish, and he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. âTake a wild guess, babyface.â
Heat floods your cheeks, your mind flashing back to all the data youâve read about how the nucleus accumbens is heavily involved in romantic love, addiction, reward. All those nights you taught undergrads about dopaminergic pathways and the hippocampusâs role in forming new memoriesâspecifically, emotional memories.
âYou⌠you were thinking about me?â you ask, voice scarcely above a whisper.
The sheepishness melts into something warmer. âYeah,â he admits, gaze holding yours. âObviously.â
For a moment, your living room goes silentâno hum of traffic or whir of appliances registers in your ears, just the thud-thud-thud of your heart as you stare at the bright orange smears on the print. He was literally focusing on you, flooding his mind with thoughts of you, enough to trigger all these hallmark signs of love and emotional resonance in his brain.
âYouââ you start, but your voice is shaky. You take a breath, dropping your eyes to the image again. âThis is probably the strangest and most⌠scientifically romantic thing anyoneâs ever given me.â
He clears his throat, stepping closer. âI hoped youâd see it that way. I know youâre not into the typical Valentineâs giftsâflowers and cheesy cards. So I thought, you know⌠Iâd show you proof.â He shrugs, but thereâs an earnestness in his eyes that makes your chest tighten. âReal, measurable proof that youâre always in my head.â
Overcome, you tear your gaze from the print to search his face, half expecting him to burst into laughter and say itâs another joke. But thereâs no sign of teasing. Heâs dead serious, a bit vulnerable, and it reminds you painfully of how youâve known him foreverâhow under all the arrogance and jokes, heâs always worn his heart right there on his sleeve.
âIââ You canât find the words, so instead, you lean forward, pressing your forehead gently against his shoulder. The fMRI print stays clutched in your hand at your side, but the rest of you rests against him, trying to steady your breathing.
Kurooâs arms come up, enveloping you. You feel the softness of his shirt and the warmth of his body, and itâs equal parts comforting and electrifying. âSo,â he says softly, voice rumbling through your hair, âwas this too much?â
You lift your head, meeting his gaze. âNo,â you say, the corners of your mouth tilting up in a shaky smile. âItâs just⌠a lot to take in.â You let out a small laugh, one that wobbles on the edge of tears. âYou literally went out of your way to prove youâre thinking about me with actual neuroscience data. How am I supposed to top that?â
He grins, the tension in his shoulders easing. âYou donât have to. Maybe just trust me when I say youâre stuck in my head, yeah?â
A breathless little chuckle escapes you. âYeah,â you whisper. âI⌠can do that.â
For a second, the two of you just stand there, pressed together, the overhead light casting a soft glow on the fMRI print you still clutch in your trembling hand. Then Kurooâs voice breaks the silence:
âHey,â he murmurs, âsince weâre on the subject of your super-scientific interest in my reward pathways⌠maybe we can do a little experiment?â
Your brow arches, a half-laugh catching in your throat. âAn experiment, huh?â
âMhm.â He carefully closes his hand around your wristâthe one holding the printâguiding it so you can set it gently on the coffee table nearby. Then he slides his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up to his. âI wanna see if I can spike some more activity in that region. Because Iâm definitely thinking about you right now.â
Your heart stutters. The last time he teased you about wanting to test something, you were six years old, and he was coaxing you into believing that tying your shoelaces together would make you run faster. This, though? Vastly different stakes.
Still, your lips twitch into a wry smile. âJust⌠kissing me wonât show up on an fMRI unless you, I donât know, plan on hooking up electrodes or something.â
He smirks, fingers trailing up to brush the line of your jaw. âNah, no fancy medical tech needed. I just want an empirical resultâlike, say, a moan or a heartbeat spike.â
A shiver runs through you, and you swear you can feel your pulse jump beneath his hand. âYouâre such a nerd,â you whisper, lips quirking. âBut sure. For science.â
He laughs softly, the sound warm and easy, like the last golden light of sunset spilling through half-open blinds. Then, before you can think too much about it, he closes the distance, tilting his head just slightly as his lips brush against yours in a kiss that is warm, lingering, and unhurried. It steals your breath, not in the way a storm might, but like a tide gently pulling you under, enveloping you in something deep and inevitable.
The taste of him is familiar yet new all at onceâthereâs the faint trace of the sushi from earlier, or maybe just the memory of it, mingling with something sweeter, something unmistakably him. His fingers ghost along your waist, their presence featherlight but grounding, like a silent promise that heâs here, heâs real. And when he pulls you closer, his body pressing flush against yours, you feel itâthe way your heart flutters wildly against your ribs, the way warmth spreads through your chest like a sunrise breaking over the horizon.
For a moment, the world holds its breath. Everything fades awayâthe hum of the city beyond the window, the soft glow of the overhead lights, even the thoughts that usually crowd your mind. There is only this: the way his lips move with quiet reverence, the quiet hitch in your breath as your fingers curl instinctively into the fabric of his shirt, the subtle shift of his body as he deepens the kiss just enough to make your pulse race.
And then, suddenly, you realizeâyou donât need a machine or a calculation to tell you how you feel. The answer is already written in the way your entire chest hums, in the way your skin tingles where he touches you, in the way something inside you feels like itâs come alive, like a supernova has replaced your heart.
God, the astrophysics department should be studying this instead.
When he finally pulls backâforeheads brushing, breath minglingâhe searches your eyes, his own half-lidded with affection. âSo,â he murmurs, âdid I succeed in lighting up your hippocampus?â
Your laugh comes out a little breathless. âIf you keep that up,â you say, pressing a palm to his chest, âyou might just rewire my entire brain.â
He grins, leaning in again to drop a quick peck at the corner of your mouth. âGood. Then Iâll have all the data I need.â
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another lingering kiss, feeling the warmth of his smile against your lips. In the back of your mind, youâre distantly aware that your own reward pathways might be exploding, nucleus accumbens glowing neon, hippocampus forging brand-new memories like a bonfire. And for the first time in a long time, youâre okay with letting the feelings have free rein.
Because sometimes, science can capture how people feel, but it canât fully capture why. And right now, with Kurooâs arms around you and that precious fMRI print still waiting on the coffee table, you think youâve finally found your âwhyâ in the easiest, most obvious place of all:
He loves you, and you love him back.
fourteen.
Three hundred and sixty-four days later, Kuroo is helping you move into a new apartment. In Tokyo. Because Columbia offered you the chance to do an exchange with the University of Tokyo before the end of your doctorate studies. For two entire years, slicing open human brains and figuring out whatâs going on beneath, because your article published in Neuron made the cover page and you got a fat and juicy grant from the school. Two entire years of being close enough to hear your parents bragging about you in person again, and to have shitty takeout dinner with Kenma after his video game streams but before his corporate mojo.Â
And two entire years of getting to live with your boyfriend. Kuroo, your very wonderful boyfriend who you love more than life itself and who you want to be buried with one day. The Kuroo who was the first person you liked at six years old and is still who you like at twenty-six. The Kuroo who you have successfully managed an international relationship with because youâve already went three years apart without the spark dying. Still, youâre absolutely beaming as you carry in boxes and boxes of clothes, because you always love getting to be with him, in person and in real life, and now you get to every single day.
You canât hang up on him when he gets annoying anymore, but itâs worth it when he makes you breakfast daily and reaches for you in his sleep.Â
You heave another box into the apartmentâthis one filled with mismatched mugs youâve collected from half a dozen coffee shopsâand set it down with a groan. Kuroo flashes you a grin from across the living room, one hand resting casually on his hip as he surveys the chaos of half-unpacked boxes and hastily labeled luggage.
âYou brought an entire suitcase just for shoes,â he points out, amused.
âHey,â you protest, wiping sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, âif Iâm living here for two years, Iâm not just gonna live in sneakers.â
He ambles over and nudges the box with his foot. âI guess thatâs fairâthough Iâm not carrying that one up another flight of stairs if we end up moving again. Youâll have to bribe Kenma for help.â
You roll your eyes, but a laugh slips free. âFine, fine. Now, major question: where are we putting our bed?â
He waggles his eyebrows, eyes bright with mischief. âWe?â he echoes, as if you havenât been living together for all of thirty minutes. âIâm pretty sure I get ultimate bed placement rights, given my extensive experience in interior design.â
âOh, sure, because black-cat-themed t-shirts and old gym hoodies scream âinterior design mogul.ââ
He smirks. âHey, Iâve got taste.â With that, he gestures expansively toward the center of a wall in the room youâd marked for the bed, where the largest patch of light from the window splashes onto the floor. âI say we put the bed there. Weâll get a queen, obviously.â
You raise an eyebrow. âA queen? As if youâre actually gonna stay on your side.â
His grin turns lazy. âExactly. I can find you in the expanse.â
âAnd you wonder why I think youâre annoying.â You toss him a mock exasperated look, which only earns you another chuckle.
âYou still chose to live with me,â he points out, that devilish glint in his eyes returning, âbecause youâre stuck with me, right here.â
âLucky me,â you tease, while your heart still does that stupid flutter thing at the thought of waking up next to him every day.
He walks over and presses a quick kiss to your forehead. Itâs such a simple, tender gesture that you canât help the smile that spreads across your face.
âSpeaking of tomorrow,â you say, turning back to break down an empty cardboard box, âitâs Valentineâs Day. Any big plans, or are we just, yâknow, gonna eat convenience store chocolates while finishing the bed frame?â
Kuroo shrugs, far too casually for someone whoâs obviously up to something. âMmm, I might have a surprise,â he says.
You roll your eyes. âOf course you do. You and your surprises. Is it expensive, by chance?â
His brows lift in feigned innocence. âDepends if you consider a diamond ring expensive.â
You almost drop the box, now flattened and very, very large. âA what now?â
He smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. âYou heard me.â
Heâs kidding. He has to be fucking kidding, right now. He did not spend a small fortune on a rock for your finger.
âFucking return that,â you blurt instantly, your heart skipping not one but multiple beats. âThatâs so expensive. Why would you do that?â
âWell, if Iâm gonna get my future wife a ring, Iâm gonna make it an investment,â Kuroo replies with an ease that makes your chest tighten all over again.
âWaitâwhat the⌠Are youâare you serious?â
He leans closer, lips tilting in a secretive smile. âI guess youâll find out tomorrow.â
Your mind whirls, half in shock, half in outright giddy disbelief. Youâre suddenly hyperaware of everything: his calm breathing, the faint noises from the street outside, the way the newly painted walls catch the late afternoon light.
âAre you messing with me?â you finally manage.
âWouldnât you like to know,â he says, and then taps the tip of your nose affectionately. âBut trust me, youâll like it.â
Itâs maddening and wonderful all at once, and you canât help but wonder how on earth you got lucky enough to stumble into a future that looks a whole lot like happinessâespecially if it involves a ring.
But for now, you tamp down the frantic beating of your heart and glance at the corner of the room. âRight,â you say, clearing your throat. âQueen bed. Got it.â
He laughs. âWeâll get the perfect one tomorrow. After all, we have at least two years of me latching onto you in my sleep, and then⌠maybe forever.â
And you roll your eyes, but you know whatâll happen tomorrow. Because of course youâre going to say yes. Because Kuroo Tetsuro has been the love of your life since you were a kid marrying him with dandelions, and because in every version of your imagined future, heâs still there, standing across from you at the aisle, regardless of if itâs a Band-Aid or an engagement ring heâs putting on your finger. Because he still makes every reward center in your brain light up (and because youâre putting that fMRI in your office at the university).Â
Honestly, love is a system of chemical reactions. Scanners and artificial intelligence will probably take over the world sooner or later, and the scientific community is getting better and better at understanding the whys. You can measure the dopamine flooding your brain, track the firing of mirror neurons, and map out which regions of your cortex light up at the sound of his laugh. But still, science is flawed, because all the scanning techniques in the world canât replicate the soft, certain rhythm of his heartbeat under your palm, or the way his eyes crinkle in tender amusement when he looks at you.
In this moment, your hippocampus diligently encodes every detail: the slight scuff on the floor, the teasing quirk of his lips, the warm press of his shoulder against yours. The memory crystallizes, even before tomorrowâs promise fully forms, because you already know the answer. You always have.
When you finally pull your gaze away, the last rays of sunlight spill over the spot where youâll put your new bedâthe place youâll fall asleep entangled in each otherâs arms, night after night. You picture the days ahead: lazy mornings that begin with his sleepy kisses, evenings spent side by side, peeling back the layers of the human mind and finding new depths in each other all the while.
And as your heart thrums with a rhythm that science canât quite pin downâsomething that defies clean categorization in textbooksâyou realize that in this bright, messy, glorious future, every neuron in your body is wired just for him.
And if thatâs not proof enough of love, youâre not sure what is.
⨠closing notes; i love being able to write bc i can create purely self indulgent things like this. i'm a neuroscientist and my bday is nov 14 (exactly 9 months after valentine's day) and im from nyc so this one really has a lil kick to it. did u notice i made it perfectly 14 chapters cause feb 14 lol i rly used my brain for that one. anyway happy day of love!! whether ur celebrating or not, please know i love u all <3
#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo tetsurou#haikyuu kuroo#hq x reader#haikyu x reader#haikyuu oneshot#kuroo tetsurĹ#kuroo#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#⨠foreveia#⨠fics#anime#haikyuu x you#writing#⨠haikyuu#kenma kozume#kozume kenma#tetsurou kuroo#kenma#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu fanfic#time skip kuroo#kuroo tetsuro#kuroo angst#kuroo tetsuro angst#tetsurou kuroo x reader#kuroo fluff#kuroo tetsurou angst
185 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Febuwhump Day 14: Becoming the Monster
pairings: gen
summary: a story about y/n, Redbullâs new second driver, told in non-sequential order
a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me â attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but itâll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump
a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!
a/n3: listen I like Lando but I needed a villian here
Masterlist | Taglist
y/n_gossip
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/85d94df1da55ce1fca0ebbe4ae517093/ecb4ae3a7cb1aa44-09/s540x810/3935e1c46cddb3b7dcd7f57f414a4a1372903abf.jpg)
liked by user, user, and 1,836,622 others
tagged: y/n_rb, landonorris
y/n_gossip: it seems like little Lando Norris might be thinking of a matador career â he keeps tempting the bulls! After a few close calls with Verstappen, Norris and L/N collided resulting in a DNF for our girl with some pretty harsh words coming from both of their radios afterwards.
view all comments
user1: this is what racing is!
âłuser2: I know â I was on the edge of my seatâŚ
user3: pretty harsh?? Girl sounded like she was gonna run him down on foot and take him out
âłuser4: lol did you see the rb team after she got back to the garage?
âłuser5: they literally just picked her up and moved her away from the reporters đđ
user6: oh the post race interviews are gonna slap
âłuser7: I canât wait!
user8: thatâs so completely unfair! y/n was ahead at the apex â Lando should have given it away, not crashed into her
âłuser9: seriously?? Where on earth did you get that information??
âłuser8: uhh by watching the screen??
user10: oh shitâŚ.
âłuser11: Landoâs post interview??
âłuser10: how dare he say something like that???
f1gossip
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/667ae4fc93cca6b293f007f83c00660e/ecb4ae3a7cb1aa44-da/s540x810/1538545e0480d789229fdad914f66ca49c917ed5.jpg)
liked by user, user, and 1,457,987 others
Transcript:
interviewer: and what are your thoughts on y/n and your collision today?
Lando: obviously not ideal. You know you never want to be in a collision- especially when itâs not your fault. Y/NâŚshe should spend less time with Max, donât need her becoming another monster, ya knowâŚ
f1gossip: what an interview! During his post race interview for Austria 2024, where he was forced to dnf after two different collisions with both Redbulls, Norris didnât hold back his thoughts. During this brief moment, he talked about the close friendship between this yearâs Redbull drivers â saying that y/n (a rookie) should take a step back from her more senior teammate because no one â[needed] her becoming another monster,â. He also went on to say that he was losing respect for Verstappen and the way he raced.
view all comments
user12: did he really just fucking say that?
âłuser13: oh my god he did
âłuser14: itâs even worse when you actually watch it because you can just barely see max next to him â when Norris said this, both max and the interviewer froze
âłuser13: i mean i would too. Thatâs a really harsh thing to say about someone
user15: people want cunty f1 back again but canât handle this little spat??
âłuser16: cunty? Yes. Whatever this was? Absolutely not
user17: heâs just salty sheâs better then him
âłuser18: how do you figure that??
âłuser17: she literally won her very first f1 race? Heâs been racing for years and only just won his first this year
âłuser18: it doesnât count really. Everyone knows that redbull cheats
âłuser17: oh my god just shut up
user20: i feel bad for y/nâŚit really wasnât her fault nor did it affect lando too much but heâs (someone sheâs said she looks up too before) putting her on blast with some pretty harsh wordsâŚ
âłuser21: she looks up to him??
âłuser20: yeah! Sheâs said multiple times that she really admires how open he is talking about his mental health and that she really wanted to emulate him
âłuser21: oh ouchâŚthen today and that interview has got to hurtâŚ
user22: anyone else interested in what sheâs gonna do to retaliate?
âłuser23: đđžââď¸đđžââď¸
Private Messages, Max and y/n
Taglist
@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @msimpala-67
#febuwhump2025#Febuwhumpday14#tw car accident#tw harsh words#tw slander#f1 smau#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 instagram au#platonic grid x you#platonic grid x y/n#platonic grid instagram au#platonic grid fic#platonic grid fanfic#platonic grid imagine#platonic grid x reader#platonic grid smau#platonic grid#formula 1 social media au#formula 1 smau#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader
121 notes
¡
View notes
Text
The Rizzler
Rating: M
Relationship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus
Add tags: Jealous Perry, possessive Perry, Happy Valentines!, I couldn't help myself, rizzler Perry, human Perry, speaking Perry, hewt and Stemmy, 0-100 real fast like.
Perry might have been approaching this mission with a tad more undeserved aggression than necessary.
It's beenâŚhard, recently. To remember that he and Heinz weren't in an actual relationship, and that this was for good reason. And Perry's pretty sure that whatever it was between them going unspoken, it wasn't one-sided. Heinz had a bit of a talent of talking without saying much of anything, and so within the last few years of their relationship Perry had learned to read the fine print: where his touch lingered, their eyes meeting seconds too long, the genuine enjoyment of companionship, not to mention the unabashed domesticity.
They were a thing, not that they said anything out loud. Not in so many words...so he. Forgets.
Heinz had always had a more active social life than Perry himself, say nothing of his attempt of a love life in the wake of his divorce. He'd always known Heinz to be...the more sexually active between the two of them as well. Sure, the dating attempts had cooled down significantly since they'd gotten close a year or so ago, but never zero, so every couple of months, he'd get lonely enough to try.
Case in point:-
"Gott, that is so unfair, Perry the Platypus," he complained, scowling. " That thing has a single charge every 12 hours, and my date is tonight. One blast-you don't even need any help, rizzing wise! You have plenty of rizz on your own!"
Perry scowls, wondering who in the hell had taught him that. Vanessa, probably, although Norm was going through a bit of an online phase right now.
The Inator had been small, portable; only a little bulkier than a full-size pistolâthe barrel stubbier, but it was all in all about 5.5'' give or takeâand so the wrestling that ensued had involved a lot more handsy and personal than usual. (Which was saying something.) There was that usual tension charging the unavoidable intimacy that entailed much of their fighting now, but Perry had spent most of his attention on how pissed be feltâpissed as he usually does, when he's forced to share in Heinz's attentions, when Heinz chose to be difficult, pissed over the fact that he had no right to be pissed, so he was pissed over the fact that he felt pissed in the first place, and finally. Pissed over the fact that Heinz would think that he would need a "Rizzler-Inator" in the first place.
It wouldn't matter with the right person, Perry'd thought to himself. Heinz was sweet, attentive, dedicated. He was a great cook and a wonderful father, and he was a little dorkyâsure, but that simply added to his charm. The lilt of his Drusselsteinian accent was rugged, and Heinz was interesting, and he didn't need a fucking Rizzler-Inator to score a hot date when Perry was right there in the first place!
We digress.
Their usual game of cat-and mouse had taken them over an hour. Heinz docked him in the jaw, and Perry had slammed his head into a railing. By the time Perry'd tackled him onto the balcony and sat in Heinz's lap, the weather had gotten stormy and grey, minutes away from the storm the radio had announced this morning. (Which Perry only noticed due to Phineas and Ferb's verbal dissapointment, and Lawrence's gripe on why such a storm had to happen on Valentine's Day.) Heinz insistently had the nozzle pointed to himself, and looking backâthe effect wouldn't even be permanent, much less any way harmful to the people around him. There was, of course, that small political risk of repeat events following the De-Handsome inator, but even that could be easily curbed.
Nevertheless, Perry was being paid to ensure even that slight risk would never come into fruition, and he was feeling particularly vindictive. The Inator is humming: that recognizable melody of a fully charged machine, and with a twist of Heinz's wrist and a roll of placesâthe trigger gets pulled, and Perry gets a faceful of Rizz.
Despite the weather, Perry feels warm, tingly. He blinks away the black spots in his vision just in time to tune into Heinz's tantrum. He's been thrown back from the recoil of the Inatorânot excessively, but Perry still has to roll over a bit blindly to find the source of that familiar whining.
Above them, thunder rolls. The first drips would fall, and soon.
"Maybe I'd have to cancel anyway." Heinz was saying sadly. "The blind date events include barhopping, and a dinner picnic at Danville Park. It's a bustâLord, why do I ever bother?"
Perry frowns, pulling his collapsible umbrella out of his hat. His heart aches: with guilt, yes, and not a little bit of shame, because Heinz hadn't even meant to hurt anyone. He just meant to give his own heart a bit of a reprieve, and the hypocrisy doesn't escape him: it is Perry who hurts him, and it is Perry still who soothes the balm.
Heinz is still sat on his haunches when Perry comes forward with the umbrella, and Perry makes sure Heinz's titanium fingers curl around the stem as it exchanged hands. An unspoken hold this.
"Wh-?" Said Heinz. "Did you have this when you came here?"
Once he ensured the hold was secure, Perry finds his hands move to cup Heinz's chin instead, initiating eye contactâdeep and heated. It's bold. Almost too bold. But Heinz clamps up at the sight of it, his cheeks growing flushed.
"Let's get you out of the rain," Perry says, and it's⌠gentle. As gentle as he almost never allows himself to be. "Sugar dissolves in water."
That does it. Heinz's face explodes in a riot of color, and even as Perry guides him up, up, to his feet, inside he is almost frozen stiff in surprise of his own actions.
"May I?" Perry says, gesturing to the Inator still clutched in Heinz's hand, and he hands it over silently, almost timidly. Perry doesn't look as he to throws it over Heinz's shoulder (though he hears it break over the tiled floor), but when Heinz turnsâoutragedâPerry grips his chin firmly to bring his attention back to him. "Keep your eyes on me." He growls lowly, pushing Heinz back, back, under the shade of the lab, into the wall. Heinz gasped, for another host of reasons, and he abandons his grip on the umbrella when Perry hikes his leg over his hip, in order to curl his arms over Perry's shoulder. "Or I'll make sure you do."
Heinz's breath stutters, restarts, and they're pressed so close that Perry can feel him gulp. "Well," he said weakly. "Nice to see that the Inator works."
Perry hadn't even considered that. But then again, his mind is on greener pastures. All he knows is that he's feeling manic, hot, brave. Making sure that Heinz was still lookingâand he was, too entranced to even think about looking anywhere elseâPerry throws his fedora over his own shoulder. And with it; the built in body-cam attached to it's band.
Carl has seen a lot, but OWCA wasn't about to have anything to do with what he's planning to do next.
"I understand the weather has cleared the rest of yourâŚevening, doctor?" Perry purrs, and Heinz whined. "I have suggestions with what we might do to pass the timeâŚinside."
Heinz gulps again, heart beating. When he speaks, it's with a breathy stutter. "I-well, I'm-I'm sure we can fit you in."
Perry smirks. "I'm sure you can."
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/737b28dce63e08e1b270401cdf8536f3/3709ae8549969931-81/s540x810/e422584e2c09ada6bbf725888f5f0c0c5c514b5a.jpg)
Denial moment
#human perry#speaking perry#Perryshmirtz#choice of fic#this is 1K long lol#i couldnt help myself#what with all the sap in the air
468 notes
¡
View notes
Text
What Twst Wonderland Characters Would Do For Valentineâs Day
Riddle: Never really celebrated Valentineâs day back home because of his mom, but always dreamed of it. At NRC, he throws a extra special unbirthday party with pink and red hearts everywhere. He also makes sure to be nicer and less strict, he even gives his dormmates little cards, and personalized ones for his closer friends.
Trey: Always loved Valentineâs day because of all the cute pastries he and his family would make. At NRC, he does the exact same, baking for the unbirthday party and some special treats for his close friends.
Cater: Posts things like âWho tryna be my valentineâ on magicam while trying to look as cute as possible he never gets a valentine . He wears only red and pink whenever heâs not in uniform and heâll give out little cards to people he likes.
Ace: Always thought the holiday was pointless and corny, but loves free candy, so he never complainedâŚwell he does complain about the cringey couples and make fun of them. Heâd give one of those heart shaped lollipops to his friends.
Deuce: Only really likes the holiday for the candy, makes sure to at least write his mom a card, even if he has to send it by mail. He also gives little cards to his friends with heart shaped lollipops.
Leona: Couldnât care less about Valentineâs day. Heâll eat a couple candies and a few cookies, but thatâs it.
Ruggie: Also couldnât care less about Valentineâs day, but always makes sure to get his grandma something, always a handwritten card and some flowers.
Jack: Pretends not to care about the holiday, but always get something for his family and close friends, then denies the fact he actually likes Valentineâs day.
Azul: Used to hate it when he was younger because he would be the only person not to get a valentine, but after he met Floyd and Jade, they do something special together every year I might talk about that later Ever since he started running the Monstro Lounge, he puts all sorts of Valentineâs day specials and deals on the menu.
Jade: Doesnât really care for it, only celebrates it with his brother and Azul because he secretly doesnât want to see Azul all sad and lonely ever again. Always plans out what theyâll do for the holiday.
Floyd: Actually loves Valentineâs day for all the wrong reasons. Heâs the type of person to tell couples to switch their phones. He also loves all the heart shaped treats, always having liked festive foods. Always makes sure Azul is having a blast doing whatever it is theyâre doing with Jade. In charge of decorating the Monstro Lounge and does a pretty decent job.
Kalim: LOVES Valentineâs day. Goes all out, giving cards to any person who just so happens to make eye contact with him. Makes special cards for his dormmates and friends. Dresses in only red, pink, and white the whole day.
Jamil: Doesnât like the holiday, never really celebrated it unless you count Kalim forcing him to dress up with him a form of celebration.
Vil: Enjoys the holiday. Does yearly Valentineâs day posts on magicam and also only dresses in red, pink, and white and makes the entirety of Pomefiore to do the same. Gives expensive gifts to those he cares about, though some of his presents are passive aggressive.
Rook: Probably one of his favorite times of the year. Thinks of it as a celebration of all kinds of love, platonic to romantic. Literally only speaks in poetry the entire day and will give handwritten poems to people he likes to stalk.
Epel: Hates it. Thinks the holiday is for girls and refuses to participateâŚexcept for some cards and cookies for his grandparents.
Idia: Never really celebrates it unless you call playing otome games all day as a celebration. Occasionally heâll look at his surveillance cameras and make fun of the cringey couples, then gets sad because no one has ever loved him like that. Gets something for Ortho that heâll like.
Ortho: Finds the holiday cute and enjoyable. Gives little cards and candies to his friends and a special present for Idia.
Malleus: Doesnât celebrate the holiday in Briar valley, but finds it interesting that thereâs a day dedicated to all different types of love. Wants to make it a official holiday in Briar Valley when he becomes king.
Lilia: Also didnât celebrate Valentineâs day, but finds the couples both amusing and oddly adorable. Gets something for Malleus, Silver, and Sebek.
Silver: Only knew about Valentineâs day because of the story books Lilia would read to him. Finds it interesting and hopes to have a romantic partner one day.
Sebek: Does care for the holiday and also only knew of its existence through story books. At NRC sure to get something very extra and unnecessary for Malleus, so the whole school can see how loved his Waka Sama is and how he is his best knight.
#disney twst#twisted wonderland#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland headcanons#riddle rosehearts#trey clover#cater diamond#ace trappola#deuce spade#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#jack howl#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#kalim al asim#jamil viper#idia shroud#ortho shroud#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#silver vanrouge#sebek zigvolt#valentines day#happy valentines
45 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Cyclops earns Logan's respect through violence
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/720eb270622d69329e8a43b88dc158c8/b74036af9453e2dc-07/s540x810/ab6d6a61811e9edc3074cc663dd762677fab57d7.jpg)
The X-Men have just tangled with Proteus (and Moira, kinda) for the first time. It didn't go well, with Kurt and Logan feeling it the most after going through the looking glass. Logan is shutting down but Scott has an idea - insulting the fuck out of him. Really going to town emasculating, embarrassing, and provoking him into a fight. Are they lovers? Worse.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2e8dafd95d522a70e6e4c5e9357ebc0c/b74036af9453e2dc-67/s540x810/9c6ecbcfead63d4ec96b94763e5c61b8dccb91e1.jpg)
Scott knows what buttons to push. Chuck would be proud.
He figures he needs to speak Logan's language - toxic masculinity and ultraviolence. Kurt is like wtf are you doing? so Scott starts on him but it's in service of comparing him to Logan, accusing him of faking trauma.
Cyclops throws a drink in Wolverine's face and basically calls him a bitch, challenging him on their long rivalry. Logan takes the bait and stands up to fight. It's what Scott wanted but now he has to fight an angry and emasculated Wolverine. He keeps pushing him verbally during their fight, with his thought bubbles taking a very different tone. A judo flip and Logan is on his back, but he's up quickly and swinging to kill, bub.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/507c6c84f19beb857c00e97bc4863d19/b74036af9453e2dc-41/s540x810/7650d120daca4fb9a750d44fb08827d6e6e99a46.jpg)
Scott's shit talking intensifies, even as he's thinking about how difficult and dangerous this is. After framing the situation as 'man-to-man roughhousing' (so homoerotic) he moves to draw the other X-Men into the fight. There's a lot of drill sergeant vibes going on here, antagonising the team by giving them something to unite against. Scott flings Logan at Kurt, who is really not loving this at all.
'What's the matter shorty?' hits different
Banshee is wigging out, thinking they're going to kill each other - so he asks Colossus to break it up before someone dies. Jean knows what's going on, however, and tells them to stay out of it. Cyke is running rings around Logan, even reflecting an optic blast off Colossus to hit him from behind.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c2126f262a0a30fcc93f54dbb5ff4bff/b74036af9453e2dc-c0/s540x810/5a4e224d2a82e4691ff15a45104acffe671e0503.jpg)
Woo, violence!
Kurt even speculates that Scott might be possessed, lol, so he tries to teleport in for a strike. Cyke has clearly played Space Invaders though, and he has his number, blasting him out of the sky.
With the others temporarily down, Ororo has finally had enough of this shit and she summons a lightning bolt as a warning. Cyclops plays possum a little then rolls into an optic blast right at her feet.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f6f75a361a990f248e84ab6aac5ebb6e/b74036af9453e2dc-bc/s540x810/092a76b32dfe39b8bbc5445c555e8fcd32fea061.jpg)
With three X-Men after him and more likely to join the fray (or just Storm getting serious) Scott quits while he's ahead, calling for peace. Logan especially doesn't think much of that notion until Scott and Jean explain. This was Scott leading and making sure the team was okay, Logan most of all.
Logan even opens up a little, admitting he was spooked. He says the obvious, that he hasn't thought much of Scott but is happy to concede he was wrong. I think Scott appreciates that more than he admits, and this is not the last time he'll have to fight all the X-Men. All that danger room training paid off. I could write a dozen essays on this issue but for now I'll just say it's an important one for the X-Men as a team as well as the Scott/Logan relationship.
I've never been in a paramilitary group, though I have had people try the tough love approach to my trauma. I don't speak to them anymore, because it's a messed up way to act. It's pretty satisfying here, and might even be the right decision. It's hard to argue with the results, but FR the X-Men all need therapy. Logan needs super therapy, or you know, to fight his friends every few months. This ISN'T Logan Behavior, not yet. It's messed up, but he's still a reasonable person at this point trying to be better. Havok and Polaris just watch without comment, which is kinda funny too.
#x comics#x men#cyclops#jean grey#logan howlett#wolverine#nightcrawler#storm#colossus#banshee#proteus#moira mactaggert#marvel#comics#Muir island
30 notes
¡
View notes
Note
arthur x musician!reader hc's pleasee đ
(recently learned arthur has perfect pitch and it has me thinking so many thoughts...)
ayo? im obsessed with this
arthur leclerc x gn!musician!reader
cw: suggestive ending
you were skilled in multiple things with regards to music
you could sing, you could write songs, you could compose, you could play a manner of instruments
the one thing that you, and many musicians, lacked was perfect pitch
but that didn't bother you so you carried on with your career, content with all of your well-honed skills
when you first meet arthur, it's an instant connection
you exchange numbers and after a few weeks of chatting, you go on your first date
it goes well and you two agree to start dating
one of the first things you tell arthur is that you're a musician and, if you release your own music, he'll become your biggest fan
always recommends your music to other people and doesn't mind at all when people tell him to shut up because he won't until the entire world listens to your music
when you first found out that arthur has perfect pitch, you go a lil bit insane and demand to test him on it - you spend a good hour of your time testing his perfect pitch
you proudly brag about him having perfect pitch to all your fellow musician friends
arthur always posts pictures of you mid-concert to his instagram story and feed because, unless ferrari prohibits it, he'll always take time off to come and support you
doesn't mind joining you on stage at the end of your performances and will happily accept all the on-stage kisses you give
blasts your music way too loud and annoys everyone
brags about you and your skill to anyone who will listen and even people who won't
much like how you always appear on his insta story/feed, your songs will always be used on insta stories/posts
always willing to watch you practice/work and if you ever wanna teach him anything, he'll try and listen as much as he can, but to be honest... he has a competence kink.
he's not focusing on what you're teaching him at all because he's too busy getting horny over how fucking skilled and talented you are
hand kink for sure - loves watching you play piano or guitar bcuz the finger movements required for it are damn fucking sexy to him
loves to fuck you backstage at concerts because hot sweaty you is fucking lethal to arthur's brain and he doesn't have great self control
Š all rights to babybearnation 2025.
#áľá´Ľáľ fics#sir bear's sweetheart special#bear's inbox#bear's anons#arthur leclerc#arthur leclerc x reader#al39#al39 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1#f1 x reader#babybearnation
41 notes
¡
View notes
Text
i'm not planning on discussing opm chapters here in the future but staying silent when THIS just happened
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/da01b7d0a246fb1505bb38f4b040d0d4/8dfffeb9ed00f30b-a3/s540x810/27cccfd3061b86dab7e2507c3267ccbe47279251.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f1091eaddfc8c71ac39b559d3cdf6c43/8dfffeb9ed00f30b-a6/s540x810/cae3045faef684f97e6138972333ef3f46c7f2df.jpg)
they actually acknowledged saitama's strength. i thought we'd be stuck in "must've been someone else" trenches forever
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/301e53215b54eaf3ddb30fe38d7cbc5a/8dfffeb9ed00f30b-91/s540x810/0b3acbb85abc2c5d3c276eaf035ff7022b0609dd.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b691de80bacfce53cbd68e6fba73bd0c/8dfffeb9ed00f30b-14/s540x810/d79721467141ca4c1ad937765c0952846259dcfb.jpg)
not only that they brought the possibility of him being some kind of a threat. which is my dream come true scenario
garou has mentioned it before and the idea never left me
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a8e69d9d23a8bbc8a549ec0a3baf5153/8dfffeb9ed00f30b-fa/s540x810/33951db0f67e68b9551b4a7b17400cba6b28b2e7.jpg)
#yes saitama's character and strength are always being questioned by others and this is not the only time someone said wow okay what was that#but it's ha this time and blast of all people#also the fact that they decided to bring genos into this#reminds me of ' contained ' series actually#one punch man#the way opm manga follows popular saigenos ao3 tropes needs to be studied#at first i was like wow okay my first redraws period in opm#now i'm actually glad they did it#AND i'm sooo happy flash still hangs around saitama#my favourite comedic duo
236 notes
¡
View notes
Text
At your side [End of Season 2]
[First] Prev <â-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#lan wangji#wen ning#jin ling#wen qing#jiang yanli#a-yuan#It may have taken a year but we did it! The end of season 2!!!#(Granted: this season was nearly twice the length of season one.)#It's been a really fantastic season to draw for. So many iconic moments! It was a lot of work but I had a blast B*)#I also enjoyed experimenting more and more with my comic style. I'm growing as a comic artist bit by bit!#There is even a little bit of shadowing in this one for next season. As a treat. All the fun (and not heart breaking) scenes to come!#Comic talk time: Recently saw 12 angry men for first time and I love the coincidence of the themes aligning here.#They both touch upon the horror of judicial systems - in which the most persuasive argument wins and the truth is a nuisance.#All it takes is one person to stand against the crowd and say 'I do not know what is true. And that is reasonable doubt enough.'#When the majority is for condemning someone guilty - that in itself is persuasive enough.#One will set their mind to what the 'truth' is and refuse to see it any other way. That their perspective is the only correct one.#No one is born with a monopoly on the truth.#Everyone has biases and agendas. Some care not for the outcome - only that they can be on the convenient side.#Lan Wangji is putting everything on the line to say 'I'm not going to go with the majority vote.'#And that is a huge deal in a story that is so politically focused as MDZS is. Everything is a careful chess move to these sects -#and to not play the game is basically sacrificing everything you are and your families name. For some it is unthinkable.#And there is no doubt in LWJ's mind. He would stand there and lose everything if it means upholding justice.#More importantly - these two have each other's backs. The bond is unbreakable. This is the most ride or die I have seen two people be.
2K notes
¡
View notes
Note
Too many stubborn fools in the world who think they can never do or say anything wrong, but we sure can count ourselves outta that pool ~ The less formalities I have to put into my texting, the better, almost reminded me of the last time I got scolded!
Ehh, going alright! If not a little annoying but Valentines always is given the guy I like lives halfway across the continent, in the blasted tundra, cellphones aren't commonplace here yet, and I have no flying pokemon...
Discovering video games was totally awesome, most of my free time's been getting spent on em ever since! Much more fun than standing around looking pretty when I don't have any assignments to tend to or people to bother! And I really like ponigiri!
Oh, I'm very happy to have a chance to talk about them! Terrera (the best place in all of Ransei) has two warlords and they are both very wonderful, and very important to me!
The one I'd alluded to prior this assume you want to know of is Lord Yukimura, and I serve as his personal ninja! He is also like a brother of sorts to me! Incredibly noble he is! Very responsible, strong sense of justice, and very serious- which makes him extra fun to tease! He's teeechnically a junior warlord, but they're to be regarded with just as much respect! He's just second in command to our main warlord... And hey, I mean, I'm also technically a princess, but pssh who cares about all that technicality stuff anyway? ... Actually ninja princess WOULD be a pretty cool way to introduce myself to people...
Also, uh, if you wanna tell me about your day and stuff too, you can!
huh so this is why they started telling people to touch grass isn't it
do you normally speak so vaguely? do you like confusing people?
elaborate.
#pkmn irl#pokemon irl#rotomblr#[OOC] NO THIS IS ACTUALLY SO FUNNY A FULL TURNAROUND. FROM CYBERBULLYING TO FORMING AN ACTUAL FRIENDSHIP WITH HIM
41 notes
¡
View notes
Text
(You donât know how much longer you can do this.)
hi the wip for this was absolutely not supposed to blow up. why does that have 1k notes. horrifying. anyways!!!! itâs update time baby!!!! 64 new assets this time around!
so thatâs what the caption was supposed to be. this update was already pretty damn big and took a ton of time to make!!! and i was finally done!! but then my hand slipped and now weâre at 143 new assets. super sorry for the delay! That Was Not Supposed To Happen.
iâll go more indepth below the cut, but this update encompasses all menu/profile art for both isat and sasasaap, battle portraits for sasasaap, every single pixel icon in isat (to my knowledge anyways), the dialogue skipping animations, and a few miscellaneous additions.
also i spent too much time on these to put them below the cut so Please God Look At My Icon Resprites I Spent 16 Hours On Them. enjoy!
okay first things first. why the hell is this batch 143 assets. so. i HEAVILY underestimated how many times the menu drawings are used in the games. even removing all of the custom art, itâs still â30-40 variations! thatâs a lot! and once i finally finished everything, i got Posting Anxiety and somehow convinced myself that attempting Animation And Pixel Art (two things i havenât done in YEARS) would be easier than writing a normal post. so here we are.
the custom art here is pretty much par for the course at this point. extra menu art for bonnie, extra expressions for the party in act 5, weâve done this enough times that itâs expected. i am aware that bonnieâs custom menu art gets completely covered by the ui. i kept it in because itâs really funny (and also i didnât feel like extending the sprite (but then the sasasaap version forced me to extend the sprite anyways so Whartever)).
once again, provided a spritesheet for sasasaapâs battle portraits! i do intend to cover both games, itâs just a slightly lower priority atm. unlike isat though, iâve got Less (read âNoâ) experience with sasasaap, so there might be more issues with those assets?? apologies if there are, iâll try to fix any issues that come up!
the Miscellaneous Additions i mentioned above are the sprites used on the teleport map and the loading screen, which is just a tiny version of the skipping animation. they were pretty small, so i figured i might as well get them out of the way!
not actually much to say about the 75 icons surprisingly! i havenât done pixel art in about 5 years?? and thatâs a Travesty actually these were super fun to make. i did make mockups for the overworld sprites earlier, but they arenât Officially part of the redraws (yet) so theyâre getting posted seperately
and also!! some exciting news!! this project might actually become a Proper Published Mod pretty soon!! iâve been in contact with someone whoâs willing to help me get everything set up, and iâll be getting a Usable Computer around the end of the year!!!! itâll still be at least a month before itâs up (iâd like to get the enemy art finished beforehand wauaua) but!!! still exciting!
okay, i think thatâs everything relevant to the update!! i Definitely canât fit all of the relevant assets here lol. but iâll try my best ! please enjoy !!
#marshdoodles#isat#in stars and time#isat spoilers#isat redraw project#<- new tag! which is probably going to change in the future when i settle on an actual name.#apologies if this is hard to follow? writing this update in the middle of the nightâŚ#anyways! oh my GOD those gifs were HELL to make#the framerate for the act 2 version is. Nebulous?#procreate will not tell me. i had to fix the framerate with a gif maker site#also for the record. all of the art here was made on procreate#which seems to horrify people when i tell them#for the less recent stuff. did you know that the profile art has a different size than the menu versions?#and that theyâre Zoomed In Slightly? because i fucking didnât! i spent 2 and a half hours cleaning up the profiles.#other than Those. actually had a blast working on these. especially the pixel art wauaa#lets hope i dont have to patch this a week later lmao
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
i burned the bridges thoroughly but still everyone's trusting me again and i should be relieved but it happened so suddenly (and i know in my heart i haven't earned this, but everyone acts like my concern isn't a problem like nothing is wrong with my very involvement)
but i know how the song ends (x)
#i've forgotten far too often why i even recognize these faces / that don't have names placed with them / inside my hazy brain /#but then / there's too much to begin to touch on here#SASASAP ASS LYRICS. this whole song could be a siffrin (of any flavour) postcanon song should you quietly ignore the chorus#miraloop#in stars and time#in stars and time spoilers#isat#isat spoilers#isat loop#isat mirabelle#isat fanart#lucabyteart#this drawing has been sat in my wips for like 2 weeks+ which is unusual for me. finished it up for the miraloop qpr people since they seem#to be popping off recently. all that aside. HOMESTUCK BEYOND CANON BLAST. BE REMINDED HOW BANGIN THIS ALBUM IS.#this is what the loop GUILT facial expression doodle page was for btw . trying to figure this out. the original caption was gonna be more#along the lines of 'I hate that I'm so cruel. i hate being this way' but it was much too blunt. but secrets live in the tags so
611 notes
¡
View notes
Text
something that gives me joy is the fact that some people still haven't played Minecraft. they can pick up Minecraft for the first time! and play it! and I can still share Minecraft knowledge with people who need it! the world is full of wonder
#PLAY MINECRAFT SO I CAN INFODUMP TO YOU ABOUT IT :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D#i've sorta internalized that whole 'minecraft is literally the number one best selling game of all time' thing#so it's always a little tiny bit of a surprise when someone tells me they dont know much abt it#and then i realize I CAN TELL THEM ABOUT IT and i'm so happy#i need to know what other people see in this game#i got into it in a really weird way and at a young age (fanfiction at age 11) so i feel like i might see it differently#bc of different creative applications + The Nostalgia#im in love with The Concept of Minecraft. minecraft's wider potential beyond even that of a sandbox game#:]#minecraft#mineblr#blast babbles#this post has joined the royal guard
268 notes
¡
View notes
Note
I am absolutely loving your Danyal Al Ghul au. While I have a soft spot for the whole plotline of Danny becoming his canon personality almost right after breaking away from the LOA all because of Jazz, I'm just as much for your take in which he goes through the same character development as Damian.
Now I'm curious. You already tackled his relationship with Dani, will you eventually take a stab at when he, Sam, and Tucker meet Gregor? Given that it's one of my hated episodes as I couldn't stand Sam's infuriatingly hypocritical attitude to Danny's suspicions of him, I'd kill to see your spin on it.
Aw, thank you! Danyal Al Ghul aus are what got me into DPDC first, so I have a major soft spot for them. That being said, uh, its exactly that soft spot that causes me to have Many Opinions about the trope you just mentioned. Like the trope is all fine and dandy, i don't blindly hate it, my main issue with it is that most aus i've seen treat his backstory as an ex-assassin more like a pretty cosmetic accessory rather than something that actually should have had an impact on him. Especially if he remembers being in the league.
Like i cannot stress enough the fact that being in an ecofascist assassin cult (regardless of his standing in it) should've left him, in some way or another, screwed up morally and psychologically because that's just how development works. Nature vs. Nurture is like a game of tug-o-war that never ends, where they are constantly fighting against each other and one side usually has the upper hand or greater influence. Children model the behaviors of the adults around them (ex: bobo the clown doll experiment), and what impacts them in childhood can stick with them permanently.
Like how my psychology professor put it: a baby's brain is like wet cement; if you slap your hand on it, it leaves an imprint, and the cement dries that way. The same rings true for small children.
I could go on, but I frankly have so many thoughts on that alone that I would end up completely derailing from the second half of your ask, and I don't want to be more critical than I already have. Especially since you just mentioned you have a soft spot for the trope.
[Okay, hold onto your hats because this is long. Naturally lmao.]
Gregor! Man, I'll admit I last watched the show back in middle school on a dodgy illegal website (it had surprisingly good audio and visual graphics, and full episodes. But really annoying porn ads.) but I only made it to like season 1 before my hyperfixation faded and I lost interest. So I never actually saw the Gregor episode.
But... it is relatively easy to find free websites that stream Danny Phantom :), so finding the episode took me like. Thirty seconds. Plus the Tv.Tropes recap page because my damn earbuds just died and im out in public as of rn.
I'm not sure if I'll write something for the gregor episode like I did with Dani, since Dani's a bit of a special case in that she's a clone and tends to be a reoccurring presence in DPDC, and I thought the new dynamic with Danyal would be interesting.
Plus, I'm not a big amethyst ocean shipper for the pure reason of I'm just not all that interested in it; its kinda bland to me. I'll admit I've entertained the thought in this au due to the whole balcony scene i wrote, but I would've entertained the thought anyways if it was Tucker in that position instead. Big multishipper, me.
But, if I had to make it official? Danyal is not interested romantically in Sam when the Gregor episode happens, regardless of his relationship with Valerie. Who, speaking of I'm trying to think about how that would go, and I'm torn between including him almost-dating Valerie or not.
Because on one hand it helps point out Sam's hypocrisy (and i love her but i am always happy to point out her flaws and address them in au) in this episode in terms of Danny spying on them, but on the other hand I'll want to include a lot of set up in order to make Gray Ghost work in this au and wow will that take a while.
Especially with the Flirting with Disaster episode because it happens due to Technus' meddling, and Danny is, well, the son of the Batman? A trained assassin? An ex-assassin nonetheless, but still an assassin? A prodigy child in this au? He might not have needed to use most of his skills in the last few years, but like... there's just a bunch of 'what if' and 'well technically...' and 'would he? he could, but would he?' things that is getting in the way of my thought process and making my head spin.
.
Mmm. Okay. Flirting with Disaster occurs relatively the same as canon with a few exceptions; like Danyal noticing the strange coincidences, and he might take the idea into proper consideration because Sam has a point it is strange, especially out of nowhere.
However,,, he really enjoys Valerie's company, and he does really like her. He's been adjusting to civilian life for the last four years and while he's made a lot of progress, he's still. an ex-assassin child living like a wolf amongst sheep. This is normal, typical teenager stuff, and usually his friends like to encourage him doing normal teenager stuff.
So he's stubbornly holding out on the thought that this is normal, that ghost stuff isn't interfering here. He's a little hurt that his friends are discouraging this, he's not bothered by the fact that Valerie is a ghost hunter and he a ghost -- his mother is an assassin, and his father is Batman, and they still had a relationship. (Granted, he's not gonna tell them that)
If anything, being diametrically opposed to each other but still being in love is part of the family! Granted, usually both parties are aware of said opposition to each other, but he'll make a special exception this time around.
(And man now that i'm thinking about gray ghost, im now thinking about various like. scenes i could write between the two of them. maybe in a reblog.)
Anyways uhhh things relatively go the same as canon. Yeah. I think Sam still has a crush on Danny and still spies out of jealousy with Tucker.
.
Now, the Gregor episode! With that out of the way; the TVTropes recap for this episode isn't the best because it doesn't go into detail about the entire episode like it does with Flirting With Disaster and Shades of Gray.
(which i looked at earlier because I made a section of this post talking briefly about what changes I'd make to the Shades of Gray episode to help set up Gray Ghost, but ended up deleting because it was kinda irrelevant for the matter at hand.)
So I'm taking in bits of the episode clips at a time, I'll try not to get too nitpicky about how each scene goes because then it's gonna take me a longer time to write this.
But! First thing's first; since Danny is not romantically interested in Sam, he is also not jealous of Gregor. He is however, a bit eyebrow-raisey at him in their first introduction, but that's because Gregor is coming off as obnoxious.
Danny thinks he's kinda annoying, and it doesn't take a genius to see that Gregor is trying to impress Sam. But since they've only known him for five minutes he takes the good faith assumption and assumes that Gregor is genuinely trying to show interest in Sam's interests too because he likes her, so he keeps mum. The fake hungarian accent is weird, but it's overall harmless, so he doesn't point it out.
He does do the spying thing when he starts suspecting that Gregor might be working for the GIW. The episode only has this happen twice, but for the au this happens a handful of more times over the course of the week, with Danyal's suspicion steadily rising more and more each time.
Hah, when he brings up wanting to spy on Sam and Gregor because of this reason, Tucker still does his "woah! you wanna spy on Sam?" thing.
Danny immediately turns to him, completely unimpressed, and crosses his arms. "Tucker," he says, deadpan, "you and Sam spied on me and Valerie."
He uses a combination of his ghost powers and his regular stealth ability to spy on them. He's hiding in a tree when they're skipping rocks, close enough that he can use his powers to hear them talk but far enough away that he has a good view of their surroundings.
He's invisible in the cinema, but doesn't accidentally get in front of the projector. He checks the inside of the room for the GIW, and then waits outside the actual room itself, keeping an eye on the area and occasionally flying in to watch the movie out of boredom. It reminds him of being back on a recon mission with the League, but it doesn't end with him orchestrating someone's death.
Then when they're at the mall he stays in human form, blending in with the crowd. He runs into the GIW there, but realizes that they're not there because of Gregor; they're just shopping. They didn't show up at either of the last two locations, and he follows them to make sure they're not also trying to blend in. But they're literally just there for shopping.
Danny is rather pleased with this turnout; so far Gregor isn't a spy, he's just annoying. The next day at lunch he asks Sam how her date with Gregor went, and that's how she figures out he spied on them, because well, she didn't tell him that.
"Have you been spying on me?"
Danny messes with his food a little bit, and Tucker is sinking into his seat with embarrassment. He frowns, "Only last night. Those incompetent government dodos--"
His lip curls up; he gets all 'Shakespeare-y' (as Sam and Tucker put it) when he's insulting someone, "--kept appearing whenever Gregor did. I followed you and him last night to make sure he wasn't a spy."
A roundabout way of saying, "I was worried".
Sam is, as canon, furious. Danny understands why, he knows generally speaking that people don't like being spied on. But he's confused on just how angry she is, and is a little irritated by it.
"Why would you do that!" She exclaims, "That's way out of line, Danny."
"How? You spied on me when I was going on dates with Valerie." He narrows his eyes, and points his fork at her, "I'm not blind, I noticed."
"That's different, we told you why we were suspicious. And we don't have ghost powers like you do."
"I don't need ghost powers to sneak around, Sam, you've seen this firsthand. And I just told you why I followed you, I thought he was working with the guys in white--"
"So you think someone can only be interested in me if they're after you?" (this is a paraphrased quote, folks ;D)
"No! If that was the case I would have voiced my concern the moment I thought it. I don't get why you're so angry, you spied too."
Iiits.... a mess. Sam storms off with Gregor, Tucker tags along because okay, yeah, maybe Gregor isn't with the GIW, or maybe last night was a fluke. Either way he ends up tagging along. Danny overhears that conversation between the GIW and Mr. Lancer, and maybe he's right, maybe he's wrong; but something is up.
I've gotten to that scene in the locker room where Gregor tells Danny that he knows he doesn't like him, and I've paused at Danny's reply to say this: Danyal doesn't even bother trying to deny it.
"I know you do not like me."
"You're right; I don't."
"Ah, let me finish. I know you do not like me because you want to protect your friend, Sam, and I respect that."
"...That's correct."
"Good! Because I am going to ask her out."
"I had a feeling you'd say that," he stands up, claps his hand tight on Gregor's shoulder, and leans close to him with a threatening smile, "so you understand me when i say; if you break my best friend's heart, you're as good as dead, right?"
"Ah,, yes. I am so glad we got that cleared out of the way, and now I hope after we can.. how you Americans put it, hang out?"
In the episode he hugs Danny and gives him a la bise (which is that french greeting where you kiss someone on the cheek two or more times) after they end their conversation. But here, when he goes to do that to Danyal, Danny leans away, points an accusatory finger at him, and says; "Absolutely not; we are not close."
The next scene after that is like, end of day. Sam, Tucker, and Gregor walking away. Sam looks over her shoulder to glare at Danny, then gets forlorn. Tucker looks back and just looks forlorn.
(When did I start narrating each scene?? Eh, I'm writing this in brief spurts of time throughout the day. Don't fix what's not broke)
After that there's this whole scene with the two GIW agents that have been chasing Phantom all episode. They're there because they have Tucker's PDA that Skulker took, and it's got the information of their purple backed gorilla assignment on it. They've been going around seeing who Tucker associates with in hopes of catching Phantom.
Uhh ahaha and that is where this gets a little interesting imo, and also allows me to mention that im retconning Danyal's (already) redesigned ghost form. Which I've wanted to retcon even before this moment bc it was just too busy. I'll get to that in a moment.
The GIW suspect Gregor for being the Phantom because of his white hair and green eyes, which is all fine and dandy until you remember: Danyal (and by extension Phantom) has that very noticeable, rather identifiable facial scar that goes across the middle of his fucking face. The GIW could easily suspect that Phantom hides his scar with makeup if he's in disguise, but if they meet a kid with a seemingly identical facial scar and similar disposition? Hoo boy.
Solution? I've got two: Gregor is canonically a kid from Michigan who faked everything to impress Sam. Considering he knows she's gothic and knows that she's ultra-recyclo vegetarian? He probably watched her from afar or got information on her somehow. His hair is dyed, his eyes might just naturally be green, but if he notices that she's got a crush on either Danyal or Phantom? A little sfx makeup could help him recreate a similar looking scar.
My second solution that's gonna happen anyways bc its that suit redesign; Danyal does hide his face as Phantom. Ghosts are emotional creatures and its a popular headcanon that their interests, ambitions, etc, influence the way they look as a ghost, not just their death. A big reoccurring theme of my au is that Danyal did not leave the League unscathed, and that being an assassin is an important part of his identity.
So i'm discarding the hazmat suit look entirely and leaning into the 'assassin' thing. But the general (stylized) feel is like, white ribbon/cloth vambraces that he has used as a garrote at some point, a hood, a gaiter scarf-type thing. I'm keeping the cape. I did a doodle a few days back that's not the official redesign, but a redesign for Phantom. I may reblog this post with that attached because it's got the general feel down. There's very little white involved, but the inside of his cape flares out and looks like the night sky.
Now, the hood and gaiter scarf gets rid of most of the problem, but Danny's hood doesn't stay on all the time, so the GIW have likely seen the upper half of the scar. :] Gregor's own drawn-on scar doesn't have to be 1:1, but it looks close enough, right? A small scar cutting through the edge of his brow and ends right below the corner of his eye. A 'cool, badass' one opposed to Danny's 'garish' scar.
But! Back to the episode scene. Canon Danny gets written off as being 'too prepubescent' to be Phantom, and honestly it'd be hilarious if Danyal was written off for the same reason (he's calling them idiots in his head if they do). But instead -- leaning into the GIW's incompetence here -- he gets written off as being too mature or too talkative. Or something equally as absurd.
Sam breaks up with Gregor for canon reasons, but when Gregor does his "i really like you, but, come on-!" and gestures to tucker, he adds on "and that scary friend of yours too, seriously!"
Things go relatively the same as canon after that. Danny does end up apologizing for spying, however. Sam does it first. Sorrows, prayers, all that.
.
Things usually end up changed or different when I actually write it down, so I'd likely add more or adjust different scenes according to the flow of the oneshot. This is just like, a general vibe of how things would go, and where some of the more obvious changes would be if I did write this oneshot.
Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for the ask :]
#dp x dc#dpxdc#dpxdc crossover#danyal al ghul au#danyal al ghul#i dont even mind the trope that danny becomes like his canon self i just want *some* kind of impact on him. but as it stands most aus i've#seen lowkey treat his assassin background as an accessory. like dyeing your hair or piercing your ears. that being said its also a silly#au where they're brothers and are related to each other and thus doesn't have to be that deep at all! im just bored of seeing the same thin#all the time. especially considering danny is usually depicted as the paler/whiter passing twin and being the 'kinder. more compassionate'#one between the two of them. give me danny who suffered crises of morality! danny whose morally darker than a cloud#morally orange and blue danny who sooner understands 'dont litter' than 'dont murder'. arrogant danny! he dotes on the people he loves but#is an utter bitch to everyone else and thus has to learn to be kinder. danny discovering himself outside being an assassin#his brother remembers a kind and compassionate older brother because thats how danny interacted with him. But danny had no qualms turning#around and slicing the tendons of one of the other assassins because of smth they did that displeased him.#he can still be like his canon self but shouldn't there be something that stays behind? Lingering like a blast shadow?#danny who carries weapons on him always even though he knows he doesn't need it but it makes him feel safer.#danny who spits out the oddest. most foreboding shit sometimes and his friends just stare at him and go 'bro what the fuck??'#idk if i can share the website where i found the episodes bc of risk of copyright. but just search up#'where can i watch danny phantom for free' and look for a reddit post with that question. the comments give website options.#i keep thinking about gray ghost now. valerie finds herself becoming a member of the 'danny fenton protection squad' with sam and tucker#danny takes a page from his beloved mother's book and calls his partners 'beloved' and equally sappy pet names.#he also throws the BIGGEST shitstorm of the century when he finds out about what Axion Labs did to the dogs. hoo boy.
226 notes
¡
View notes
Text
my ACEN tip gimmick has been fulfilled, aaand i got a little carried away with it. I haven't had time to draw for myself (or at all, really??) in like two weeks, i needed to Doodle and Have Fun. ... also, i did not think he would get so many donuts. people understand the value of giving treats to fictional characters :) its what he deserves
also shoutout to snazzyskeletons who had the same Tip Theme i did. we took pictures with our tip jars together. they are adorable v
i'm glad their vash got some donut money too :) đŠ please check them out if you want some cute trigun stuff
#trigun#trigun 98#art#doodles#trigun fanart#fanart#acen 2024#vash#vash the stampede#meryl stryfe#i get paid and vash gets um. tummy hurty i guess. look donuts are like strawberries you gotta eat that shit IMMEDIATELY ok#i love you people who gave vash donut money. i love you people who gave me little trinkets. i especially love you#vash cosplayer with a giant prop gun full of teenie tiny clay donuts. thank you for the donut i put it by my mini vash funko pop#i met so many nice trigun fans. all of you are so NICE ; - ; LOVELY fandom over here. and so many good cosplays#i saw wolfwood. i dont mean i saw a wolfwood cosplayer i mean i Saw Wolfwood It Was Him In Real Life I Swear#i dont think vash ever actually wears his glasses up on his head like that but i think it looks nice so i will keep doing it#he has cool glasses. they should be seen. cool glasses and eyelashes. mwah#i have a somewhat cool wolfwood illustration idea in my head but i just haven't had time to work on it at all#and i want to draw the insurance girls !!!!!! AAAA. MILLY. MILLY I LOVE YOU !!!!!!!! MILLYYYY#GOD i have so much art to work on. they need to invent a days with more hours in it#yeah i'm making steady and good progress through my to do-list but I Need To Get Through It Faster#anyway its 6am i need to schedule this and go to bed already#one more thank you to everyone who stopped by and said hello!!! ACEN was such a blast i hope i get in the AA again next year
149 notes
¡
View notes
Note
thhtis might just be a big pet peeve to me but i hate when people write kjsr as someone cold or possessive, i always viewed her character as someone who is actually so soft when it comes to love. i cant see her saying anything awful with intention to her s/o and just prob cherishes each moment and intimacy.
yeah, sara is the victim of some INSANE mischaracterisation... i was informed that some people thought of sara as a karen, of all fucking things, and the psychic damage i took from that statement was unfathomable. it was so horrendously insulting i had to put my phone down and breathe for a solid minute, because sara? being a karen? the peak of entitlement? be so fr. sara struggles to even accept her place within the kujou clan, despite being its golden child. she doesn't know how to be entitled to even love, let alone anything else.
there is a quote, i forget by who, which goes "(s)he had the awkward tenderness of someone who has never been loved, and is forced to improvise", and i think it describes her so well. sara was raised to be takayuki's perfect weapon first, and a person second. for sara, to be a 'kujou' is to be the untouchable general, the prodigal child, the crowfeather kaburaya which heralds nothing but victory for the kujou clan. her place in her 'family' is intrinsically tied to what she can give to them, not who she is as a person. her image of her own worth is so entangled with being needed that she doesn't know how to be anything else. she explicitly states that she has never given any thought to her personal aspirations. never. that's so insane and heartbreaking to me like... my love, you are more than what you can give. so i agree with you on the part that sara would be so, so tender when it comes to love. this is uncharted territory, and she's learning as she goes, but you could never be unloved by her. she knows what that's like, and she could never hurt you the same way.
anyway, live laugh love kujou sara. i've been in the kjsr camp for 3 fucking years and i'll continue to be here until the day i die
#sev.responses#kujou sara#sara has such a special place in my heart genuinely#my lovely songbird you deserve the sky and all the stars#(i will kill kujou takayuki with my bare hands)#i think the reason i love kjsr so much is that her tragedy is so relatable in a way (excluding the war stuff ofc)#to always feel out of place in your own family with people who should love you regardless......... i understand#as a queer person in a homophobic but otherwise healthy and loving family#the disconnect is jarring at times and the guilt for being the way i am eats away at me if i let it fester#if they knew me the real honest me it would hurt them. it's a truth that's difficult to live with sometimes#but then i remember there are people who love me for who i am and it becomes a little bearable again#and that's what i want for sara i guess. the comfort of being known and being loved regardless#uh oh i've gotten soggy in these tags haha gotta blast
71 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Everytime I see someone talk bad about toons I feel myself age by 40 years. My lifespan is shortening.
#clemramble#I cut down my rant by A LOT because alot of it boils down to this:#I dont think a lot of you guys understand how to put yourself in a story and put context with characters.#AND ALSO THEYRE WORKING ON A REWRITE. no one ever mentions this when complaining about it#GIVE THEM TIME ITS A VOLUNTEER PROJECTTTTT THEYVE ADDRESSED THIS#the team has changed people throughout the years. you have to give them TIME.#its the same five opinions. over. and over again. thats all i hear and im getting so sick of it.#Normally I just roll my eyes and move on but I have been blasted with the same thing on multiple different platforms#and yknow what. even without the future rewrite- i still find the toons likeable and understandable#but maybe thats jsut a me thing#and of course thats not to be like âoh well theres no issuesâ because there are. i think a rewrite is 100% needed. but again.#theyre working on it#Theres so much I want to say about this but in fear of sounding mean I'll just leave it at this.#nobody care what i have to say but im saying it anywyas
40 notes
¡
View notes