#first year in this format

[the-last-genderbender]

Nothing more disappointing than wanting to watch a specific olympic event and no channel is showing it, like yeah I’m aware athletics is popular but REALLY,,,

[its-not-a-pen]

first day as a small-town sherif and you discover that some of the convicts you're transporting managed to escape in the night and since the penalty for letting prisoners escape is death, and the penalty for being late because you were looking for escaped prisoners is also death, you decide to free ALL of them and go hide out in the wilderness for a bit, except the convicts are super grateful so they make you their leader and it turns out they're decent guys who were exploited by a tyrannical government, so long story short you're crowd-sourcing for a peasant uprising and would anyone like to chip in?

3650th day and due to a series of unforeseen events you are now the emperor and founder of the han dynasty.

[doctorsiren]

I loved your headcannons about inukawa, reigen and reigens sister and I would really like to see what you think would happen if mob and reigens sister met and I was wondering if you could possibly draw them :D

hello yes I accidentally made a comic after seeing this ask yesterday 😁 bro psychoanalyzed her 😨

[soupysundae]

🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

[pixelglam]

Hello! Do you mind showing us the layout or more of an inside look into the brownstones house?

Hello! I won't be sharing the floorplan but since I'm currently working on it, here are a few more behind the scenes photos of the home. 🤍

[eddis-not-eeddis]

How To Stop Killing Conversations

Talking is hard. People are confusing. Making friends is difficult, and interacting with coworkers is tortuous.

You want to make friends, you want to reach out, but it's hard and every time you start a conversation it dies, or limps along until both you and the person you're talking to are looking for excuses to kill it and put it out of it's misery so you can both escape the increasingly awkward situation.

As an introvert who has suffered a lot of social anxiety in my time, let me share a few tricks I've learned over the years going through hundreds and thousands of excruciatingly painful conversations until I found something that works. I've kind of distilled the process.

ALWAYS ASK A QUESTION!!!

The first thing is to always leave your partner an opening. You need to let each other talk for a conversation to get off the ground, but it's more than that, really. You need to actively encourage each other to talk. The best way to do that is to ask questions.

Here are two examples of an introduction: Example A

You: Hello.

Them: Hello.

You: Nice to meet you.

Them: Nice to meet you too.

Example B

Y: Hello, nice to meet you, how are you? T: I’m doing well, yourself?

Y: I've been really well. How are you liking the weather?

T: I'm so happy the weather's finally getting cooler, I'm looking forward to pumpkin spice season. Do you like lattes?

Do you see how in Example A the conversation wasn’t going anywhere? It just kinda died, because there weren’t any openings for new topics, whereas in Example B, there were openings to keep the conversation going.

But what do you do if your conversation partner is as socially inept as you were two minutes ago and doesn't play along? All is not lost.

Example C

Y: Hello, so nice to meet you, how have you been doing?

T: I'm doing well.

Y: That's great, are you enjoying the nice weather, then?

T: Yeah. I'm glad it's finally fall, I'm looking forward to pumpkin spice lattes.

Y: I love pumpkin spice lattes! Pumpkin spice anything, really. I recently got the best pumpkin spice candle at the shop down the road, have you been there?

Even if they don't leave you an opening, you can usually make one. It may be difficult, especially when they don't give you much to work with. This is where having a go-to script is a life-saver--me, I always default to talking about the weather, so when in doubt, you can do that.* The important thing right now is to keep fostering the conversation, so once you bring up the weather, segue into a question. When they answer the question, make a brief comment or observation from your own experience and build off of that comment or observation to ask another question.

"But I don't want to make it about me. Doing that's bad, right?"

This is why that questions are important. If you haven't been asked a question, you kinda have to make it about you, you don't have a choice. But to keep from being an attention hog, follow up your shared experience or anecdote with another question.

Example D

T: I love pumpkin spice lattes

Y: Me too. I had the best pumpkin spice latte the other day at the cafe down the road, have you ever been there?

Now you've circled the conversation back around to them again, and you aren't taking the limelight. Sharing an experience is so important, you're trying to show that you understand, that you sympathize, that you relate.**

This really is the most important element of being a good conversationalist. You have to keep asking questions.

The one other thing I will touch on is introductions. DO NOT get into turn based combat.

Example E

Y: Hello

T: Hello

Y: Nice to meet you

T: Nice to meet you too.

Y: How are you doing?

T: I'm fine. You?

Y: Me too.

This will kill any possibility of continuing a conversation. Instead, get it all out of the way all at once, if at all possible.

Example F

Y: Hi, it's nice to meet you, how are you doing?

This is good, but this is better

Example G

Y: Hi, nice to meet you, how are you liking the weather?

Don't ask how they are doing, or if you do, before they can answer, follow it up with your placeholder (weather etc.) so they have to say some thing like

Example H

T: I'm fine, and I'm really liking the weather.

or

T: Not so great, the weather sucks.

Either of those options are much easier to work with than your basic "I'm fine."

Usually, if you can get past the introduction, you can get a conversation going. And then, even if you don't end up hitting it off with the person you're talking with, you at least don't leave the conversation feeling like you've died a thousand tiny deaths.

In fact, if you get past that introduction, you may have just made yourself a friend.

Remember folks, basically everyone around you is more afraid of you than you are of them, and in this benighted age no one has been taught conversation skills, so we are all pretty much in the same boat. (Unless you were born an extrovert, in which case we are all deeply envious and would probably kill you if we didn't need you in our sad and lonely lives so much.)

Have grace for one another, and for yourselves because talking with people is difficult.

Go forth, and stop killing conversations.

*If you are one of those awful people who likes to brag about how you hate small talk and only want to talk about important and meaningful things, I have one question: Do you ever have a conversation that lasts long enough to become meaningful? I thought not. Small talk is an important skill. Develop it.

**This is how you deal with sad or difficult situations too. When you want to show you sympathize with someone going through a hard time.

Example:

Y: How are you doing?

T: Not very well. My dog died last week.

Y: Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. My own dog died last year and I still miss her a lot. How are you handling it?

Now you've circled the conversation back around to them again. You aren't making it about you.

If y'all want, next time I can share how to extricate yourself from a conversation.

[ultra-violetra]

“the bad kids shouldn’t kill their enemies when they’re clearly being manipulated/possessed/etc!” they literally murdered lunchlady doreen on their first day of school

[britcision]

So I’ve been thinking about cultural Christianity lately and how people tend to get very upset about it without really understanding what it is, so here is a primer

Cultural Christianity is not a choice you make. It does not mean you are Christian, or even that you remotely like Christianity; a lot of people who vehemently hate the religion do so because of their own cultural Christianity

It is not a shortcoming, or a moral failing, or a sin. It just means that the culture you were raised in was predominantly Christian.

Note: I did not say “majority Christian”. Christians don’t need to be a majority to have a dominant cultural influence

Cultural Christianity means you inherently understand and probably use swearwords like “damn”, “hell”, or a variation on the name “Jesus Christ”

It means when I say cultural Christianity is not a sin, you understand exactly what I mean without needing to have it explained - and you probably know the phrase “original sin” or “seven deadly sins”, even if not in full detail

It means hearing about Hades, god of the dead, wealth, and volcanoes, and assuming he’s the bad guy of Greek mythology… y’know, like Satan

(EVERYONE went to Hades when they died. The Elysian Fields, where the best heroes went, was in Hades’ underworld. The Eleusinian mysteries, a cult to Demeter and Persephone, was basically about asking them to tell Hades to give you a cool afterlife

And he would cuz he drank his “respect wife” juice if not all of his “respect women” juice. Did still kidnap her. But she is a major feature and often makes the decision herself or influences his when they’re mentioned together

Meanwhile, people try and cast Zeus as a good parent)

It means having to have a dreidel, a menorah, or a kinara explained to you at a time when you already knew about Christmas trees and Santa

(Yes, Santa Claus, Saint Nicholas, major host of the Mass of Christ, is culturally Christian. Even though Coke invented his aesthetic - that’s the “cultural” part)

It’s when you go to make up a new non-religious or pan religious winter celebration… that is centred around a day with family and gifts which is obviously the 25 of December. Maybe counting down 12 days before

It’s defaulting to calling a place of worship you don’t know the name of a “church”

Cultural Christianity is not something people have a choice in; you don’t pick where you’re born, and there are so many other cultures in places like Canada, America, and Britain that are culturally Christian out the ass! But… you will catch Contact Christianity in any of these places

It’s damn near impossible to consume any American or most Western media without brushing across it; cross imagery is everywhere, Christian demons and devils sneak into media all around the world

Western (and some other) Gothic fashion leans heavily on gothic architecture and, yeah, heavily Catholic imagery

Now, brushing across the media in other parts of the world does not impart the same level of cultural Christianity as growing up in a city with four churches on a single block and a Santa Claus parade

And you can grow up heavily in an entirely different culture even in the Bible Belt (but you know what Bible Belt means); you don’t have to abandon all other culture just because Christianity has a chokehold on your home

But when December (or fucking November these days) hits and you hear Mariah Carey in 3/6 stores, yes, you probably have some cultural Christianity

You sure as hell don’t need to be able to name half the denominations (can you name more than 4?), you may never set foot in a Christian church in your life, and still have a cultural Christian influence

If your street names have “saint” in them

If there are crosses or angels on more than half the graves in a cemetery

If you know how to cross yourself but aren’t really sure when you learned; you didn’t look it up or do research to find out

Now note: none of these have an inherent moral judgement attached to them

It’s just about what the culture you live in has taught you about the world, and there’s no culture that is magically the Right One or better than the others

There’s no reason to expect even specifically Christian culture to be the same around the world; it isn’t. It has the same root, but what flowers from the soil is another matter entirely

There is nothing wrong with acknowledging that you have culturally Christian influences and biases; being human is 90% absorbing information from the world around us and half processing it at best - there’s just too much input, and intentionally filtering out Everything Christian Ever?

Well unless you started at 2 years old, odds are pretty good it’s not really a personal choice kinda thing

And you cannot compensate for these influences unless you acknowledge that they exist, that you did not choose to form them, and that you do get to choose how they affect your actions going forward

Christmas stuffed a bunch of other religious traditions into a single package to make itself popular, but if you learned them as Christmas traditions first… do I even need to say it?

[violenteconomics]

so it’s pretty popular in this fandom for the overblotters to have a support group going on, and that’s all well and good and we’ve got a lot of amazing stuff out of it (shameless segue into compelling you to read the “girls in wonderland” series by the lovely jxnebug on ao3, please, it’s awesome), but can you just. like. imagine for a second that everybody else has a support group too, because goodness gracious, do the people who have to witness the overblots need so much therapy.

like. i imagine that it starts off with the first-years and their weekly ramshackle hangouts, and then they all start venting to each other about all the trauma they’ve gone through in the past year, which, thanks to yuu, becomes an unofficial, very unqualified support group.

ace: hey. i’m ace trappola. during my first week at night raven college i had to wear a collar around my neck at all times and didn’t even get to sleep in my dorm, which is probably for the best, because i couldn’t really sleep with that stupid collar anyway. i slaved away making a chestnut tart to apologize to my housewarden with, only to have my apology literally thrown into the trash. and when my best friend tried to stick up for me, they got called stupid and undereducated. and my other upperclassmen just enabled him. i almost got killed twice in that week, and many more times afterwards.

deuce: hello, i’m deuce spade. and i promised myself that i would become the best person i could be for my mom, only to fall short of my own expectations every single time, except for when i literally sign my soul away. i had such high hopes for my housewarden and upperclassmen to guide me to a better future, only to come to the realization that they’re even more flawed than i am. so, basically, there is nobody who can help me now, and i’m doomed to the path i made with my own hands.

jack: this is so unnecessary. jack howl. basically what deuce said, but combine that with the fact that, when you first met, your upperclassmen didn’t have any problems with getting rid of you if it meant their path to victory was assured. your dormmates will never admit that they’re wrong and sooner rip your ear out than say they like you to your face. but you care a lot about them, and deep down, maybe they care a lot about you, too. but the only thing they can do that would prove that in your eyes is improve themselves. become better. be the people you thought they were when you got here. and that is the one thing they will never do.

epel: howdy. my name is epel felmier. my housewarden is all about personal improvement. he’s right to think that i need to rework my thinking about gender and strength, because they are not equal in any way. other than that, though, he has no investment in me as a person. i’m not allowed to eat whatever i want. if he tells me to perform, that’s what i do. if i slip up even a little, he scolds me for being lazy. my posture must be perfect, my diction clear, and my hair flawless. he puts the same pressure on himself to be perfect, so it’s not like he’s a hypocrite. but that’s the thing, isn’t it? he likes me for the things i do — and he hates the person i am.

ortho: hello, world. my name is ortho shroud. not the real one, though. i’m just a poor simulacrum of him that my big brother forged from the flames of his grief and the metal of his self-loathing. but even though idia put his soul into constructing me, i can never truly be the person he wants me to be. my only purpose, and i can’t even do it correctly. for almost my entire life up to this point, idia loved his dead brother more than he loved me, and i just had to be okay with that, because the nature of the STYX organization mean that i didn’t have anybody else. and the one time i tried to change that, i corrupted my brother and almost ended the world.

sebek: greetings. i am sebek zigvolt. i nearly perished recently. the prince that i admired so dearly tried to put everybody to sleep, and in trying to stop him, i very nearly lost a dear friend of mine to the secrets hidden inside his father’s brain. the whole time, i felt distinctly out of place. it was like i was watching one of those soap operas master lilia loves so much. only ever looking. never touching. right before me was a broken family that i only wanted to see come back together, but i couldn’t fix it. for it was not my family to fix. i was helpless. useless. but that is nothing new.

yuu: …hi. i’m yuu. i was ripped out of my home and isekai’d into this world that’s filled with mentally unstable magic people who tried to kill me more than a couple times. i am currently living paycheck-to-paycheck while going to school full-time thanks to a crow who doesn’t know how to adult. and clearly, we all have a lot of work to do.

this goes on for a couple of weeks with just them, but then sebek decides to invite silver, because he’s prolly not doing so hot post-book 7 (and also, silver is basically the freshmen’s official big brother at this point, let’s be real) and then silver invites kalim a few weeks later, who invites ruggie, and then it just sort of snowballs out of control from there.

[rooolt]

every so often I have to take an extended moment to ponder canon gothcleats and I am bowled over by the emotions that overcome me at the thought of them

[bacchuschucklefuck]

[anoant-haikyuu-dump]

Quick fic about Kenma and Fukunaga rooming together in college! 

Roughly 2300 words, Kenma POV, platonic, basically Fukunaga being odd and Kenma dealing with that. 

*Sidenote: i know roommate/dorm culture isn't the same in Japan as it is in the US but just suspend your disbelief lol

------

Kenma had no idea what to expect when he agreed to room with Fukunaga in their freshman year of university. Sure, the two had spent the better part of three years together— suffer through enough early-morning practices, grueling training camps, and endless bus rides with a guy and you come out the other side soul-bonded whether you like it or not. What truly solidified their bond was their third year. With Kuroo off to college and Hinata a whole prefecture away Kenma was practically forced to hang out with his fellow second-now-third years lest he fall back into the arms of his old hermit lifestyle, and as tempting as that was he promised Kuroo he’d leave the house more than once a month. Stupid childhood friends being concerned about your mental well-being. 

Although first-year Kenma would shudder at the thought of wasting all his free time on a weirdo like Fukunaga, much less Tora, it wasn’t nearly as miserable as he’d dreaded. The two were freaks— loud, obnoxious, guts-obsessed freaks in a certain ace’s case— but overtime he’d grown accustomed to their quirks. Those were his captains; they’d joined the club together, grown together, gone to nationals together. Laughed at Tora when he tangled himself in the net together (minus Tora, he was pissed). It’d be a lie to claim they didn't worm their way into his heart like the persistent little parasites they were. Those freaks were his friends, Kenma begrudgingly came to accept. Yes, even Tora. Besides, what other option did he have? Lev? He didn’t hate himself that much.

All that’s to say Kenma and Fukunaga were close. Tight, even. Enough for Fukunaga to know where the Kozume’s hid their spare key under a rock in the garden (though that was Kuroo’s fault for snitching). But three years of friendship and easy-access to one’s house doesn't instantly unlock all the mysteries of a person. Especially when that person is a complete and utter enigma like Shouhei Fukunga. 

This was proven not even a week into their first semester. Kenma had just finished a business class, which he’d spent pretending to take notes on his laptop while actually grinding away at some RPG from his steam library. He was expecting Fukunaga to be home since he didn't have class till the afternoon. 

He wasn’t expecting the unicycle. 

Where he got the thing was beyond Kenma, as was the way he effortlessly navigated their shoebox dorm without ramming into a single piece of furniture. It was honestly more impressive than surprising— Kenma wondered when he learned, how, why, before remembering who he was talking about. Fukunaga doing weird shit without explanation. Fork found in kitchen. Kenma had more important things to worry about, ignoring lectures on marketing management or whatever was a full-time job and he wanted to lie down. 

“I’m back.” He said with a yawn, kicking off his shoes as he shuffled over to his bed. 

“Hey.” Fukunaga replied. No acknowledgement of the situation, not that he expected any. 

Kenma got nice and cozy under the covers, then pulled out his computer to continue his game. He’d finished most of it while his professor was rambling on about how “this is going to be on the exam, blah blah blah” but he wanted to 100% it. Nothing better than an afternoon of achievement hunting. He spent a good 10 minutes combing through a dungeon in search of a secret boss, but for some reason he just couldn’t get into the zone. Probably had something to do with, oh you know, the whole-ass circus routine playing out not even five-feet away. He sighed and shut his laptop. Fine, he’ll bite. “What are you doing?” 

“Practicing.” A man of many words. 

He was tempted to ask “What for?” but knew that would only create more questions. Instead he called, “Know any tricks?” Without missing a beat Fukunaga reached into his hoodie pocket, whipped out three plastic balls, and started juggling. Figures.

Kenma sat there watching for god knows how long, long enough that Fukunaga had to hop down to get ready for class. He stuffed the unicycle under his bed, answering Kenma’s question of where he stored the thing, but creating the new question of what other garbage he had hidden down there. A secret for another day. With a classic “See ya later Alligator.” Fukunaga headed out, leaving Kenma alone with his thoughts. It was only then that it fully sunk-in— he’d just wasted the past few hours watching his roommate unicycle around their room like a clown-in-training and he didn’t even realize. Should he be pissed? Impressed that Fukunaga managed to hold his attention for so long? (some of those tricks were seriously complex). It wasn’t exactly the most productive use of an afternoon, but then again was he ever productive? Games, unicycling roommates, who’s to say what constitutes a good use of time? He figured a little change of pace wouldn’t kill him. 

---

The rest of the semester went on much like that, always something going on. One day Kenma came home to at least five kittens scampering around their dorm. All pets minus service animals were strictly off-limits so he wasn’t sure how Fuku,naga got them past security, nor how they vanished the next day without a trace. Another time he got super into chinese yoyo and nearly broke the overhead light with a misplaced throw. After that he got into regular yoyo and nearly broke a lamp.

A common Fukunaga-ism was for him to stop by random flea markets and buy whatever knick-knacks he could find. Because of that his side of the room was constantly cycling decor. Take, for instance, the inflatable tube man taped to the ceiling that always freaked Kenma out at night, or the kiddie pool in the corner full of ball pit balls from a kids’ center that’d shut down. Most of his purchases were bought purely based on their potential for puns, of which Fukunaga had plenty. Kenma always knew when he’d thought of a new one cause he’d silently giggle to himself in that way that makes him look like a chipmunk. Sometimes Kenma would ask to hear them, he’s always found Fukunaga funny. If he ever makes it as a big comedian Kenma’s taking credit for being the first person to tell him that. 

To put a long story short, rooming with Fukunaga was like living in a sitcom, except the writers ran out of normal scenarios six seasons ago and had resorted to throwing the most outlandish shit at the wall to see what stuck. The most surprising part?  Kenma didn’t even mind. It was a lot, yeah, but Fukunaga never dragged him into his shenanigans or invaded his space. Honestly the most annoying thing he did was invite Tora over, who was 10x more annoying than whatever new hobby Fukunaga had adopted for the week. Plus, it’s not like Kenma was the greatest roommate either. He was getting into streaming around this time so it wasn’t rare to find him shouting at his monitor past 4am or hogging 90% of the room’s outlets. Together they were the most dysfunctionally-functional duo in the building, and an infamous one at that.  

---

Kenma and Fukunaga were not popular among their floormates. They weren’t hated per say but if everyone else had to vote on a pair to banish from the building Kenma had a sneaking suspicion they’d be first in line. One reason for this was Kenma’s aforementioned streaming— Fukunaga didn’t mind the late-night noise but their neighbors weren’t too keen. The second reason was the unmistakeable stench that wafted from their room any time Fukunaga pulled out his little instant pot to make dinner. Kenma couldn't blame him, personally he’d rather knaw on uncooked blocks of ramen for every meal than step foot in their university’s dining hall. If it wasn’t for his streaming career taking off Kenma would be drowning in debt from all his food delivery fees. And to be fair the smell wasn’t always bad, Fukunaga was phenomenal at cooking after all. As a part-time chef he knew his stuff. The problem was his favorite foods. Octopus. Squid. Dousing everything in fish sauce. Their dorm might as well have been a seafood market. It didn’t help that Fukunaga always went way overboard— no hot pockets or box mac and cheese here, he had every prohibited appliance under the sun from a hot pot to a griddle to a waffle maker. Air fryer salmon doesn’t smell like roses. 

Kenma had never been the biggest eater. In highschool Kuroo always bothered him about that— skipping lunch isn’t healthy Kenma, you have to eat vegetables Kenma, three mints and a granola bar doesn’t count as dinner Kemna. It was annoying sometimes, especially at training camp when Bokuto got involved, but it was nice to know they cared. When Kuroo left for university the role of “Kenma’s feeder” was taken up by Tora (“OI KENMA, IF YOU DON’T EAT YOU’LL COLLAPSE ON COURT AND WE WON'T MAKE IT TO NATIONALS! THAT PLATE BETTER BE EMPTY WHEN I GET BACK”). Then graduation rolled around and for better or worse Kenma was free. He tried his best to eat decently as a promise to Kuroo but he often found himself forgetting to order food before restaurants closed. 

One night at some unholy hour Kenma was on his usual stream grind— he’d started in the afternoon and ended up getting so invested that he skipped class…and lunch…and dinner. It was a new game, ok? The cup noodles he planned on eating sat unopened at the edge of his desk. Noodles meant microwave, which meant getting up, which meant pausing his game, and that wasn’t an option at the moment. He was in for the long haul. Chat had been pestering him about eating for hours now but who cares about their opinion? They’d also been yapping about a ghost or some bullshit looming behind him all night so why should he trust them with anything? He didn’t even realize Fukunaga was still awake until he felt a light tap on his shoulder. With a yelp he spun around, spooked by the sudden touch. There he was holding out a bowl of curry, chat’s ghost. “Eat.” When Kenma didn’t take the bowl Fukunaga bopped him on the head with it. “Pretty sure starving on stream is against TOS.” Then he set the bowl down on his desk and disappeared. Every stream after that chat bothered Kenma about his “guardian angel” and asked for him to come say hi.

---

By their second year both Kenma and Fukunaga realized that university wasn’t for them. Kenma’s online career had skyrocketed and he was teaching himself more about business through the start of his own company than lectures and exams ever could. Fukunaga was gradually finding an audience at a nearby comedy club and had his own taste of internet fame when one of his sets got reposted online and went viral. It just wasn't worth staying enrolled for their future plans, thus the two were officially drop outs. With that said and done the time had come for them to part ways—there was no need to share an apartment, Kenma had enough cash to afford his own and Fukunaga made plans to move in with Tora. 

On the final day they stood outside next to the road, boxes stacked high as they waited for Kuroo and Tora to come pick them up. “Welp,” Fukunaga said, giving him a salute “It’s been an honor captain.”

“You were Nekoma's captain, not me.”

“First mate doesn’t have the same ring.” They laughed. Fukunaga went in for a hug, and for once Kenma let it happen. “Until we meet again boss.” 

Kenma snorted into his shoulder. “Please, our new places are only a few train stops away.” 

“How about until I ask Kuroo where your house key is hidden again.” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

In the passenger's seat of Kuroo’s sedan Kenma pressed against the window, watching as the world around him blurred into one big blob of city. Kuroo was saying something, idle chatter about classes or work or their friends, but Kenma was only half listening. On the one hand he was excited to have his own space for the first time in his life, the freedom to do anything he wanted any time he wanted without prying eyes. He could finally have a dedicated stream room, that was cool. On the other hand he had to admit, he was gonna miss the oddities that accompanied living with Fukunaga. The unpredictability, the jokes, the ever-changing decor, even the inflatable tube man hanging from the ceiling. And the home-cooked meals of course, going back to DoorDash was gonna be an adjustment. He figured if he missed his food that much he could drop by their apartment anytime. He’d have to deal with Tora now but maybe that wasn’t so bad. They were all adults now, more mature. Mellowed out (at least for Tora standards). He decided that he'd make a point to call his friends more often. 

“You ok?” a voice called, snapping Kenma out of his trance. Kuroo nudged his foot with his own. “You’ve been pretty quiet today, more than usual.” 

Kenma shot him a small smile. “Yeah, I'm good.” 

“Great, cause i'm gonna need you to listen to this next part-”  Years later when Fukunaga started appearing on tv interviews and variety shows Kenma was proud to say that they used to be roommates way back when, and that he was the first one to tell him his jokes were funny.

[cozylittleartblog]

was listening to her playlist yesterday

[blaithnne]

@sketchbookweek Day 1 | First Meeting

[non-plutonian-druid]

[ID: a comic set in the parantural au, drawn in the parantural style, in which all the Hargreeves except Five are kids and Five is a teacher at their school.

Panel 1: Five's bedroom. He is seen sleeping next to Delores the mannequin. Klaus suddenly barges in through the window, shouting "Five, theres a spirit thing!" Five shouts back "WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE."

Panel 2: Allison climbs in after Klaus. She says, "We tried to text you first!"

Panel 3: Five blearily checks his phone. A notification reads "Sent 3 sec. ago. Child A: 5 THERES A THING"

Panel 4: Five rolls over and rubs his face, saying "Ugh, fine, I'll come help. Just get out!"

Panels 5 - 8: Five rolls out of bed, puts on a bathrobe, and teleports downstairs. He opens his front door to find Klaus and Allison looking up at him. They both say "Hi."

Panel 9: A white box labeled "Cool spirit fight scene that I'm not drawing"

Panel 10: Five looks suspiciously down at Allison, reaching over her head. He says, "Why are you still here." Allison aloofly says "No reason. Where's this woman you married without telling anyone?"

Panel 11: An image of Delores, who is actually a giant bug spirit, appears behind Five, who looks uncomfortable. He says, "Uh. None of your business."

Panel 12: They are revealed to be standing on Five's front porch, as Five opens the door. He says "If I give you hot chocolate will you leave," and Allison responds "Deal."

Panel 13: In Five's warmly lit kitchen, Allison delightedly drinks a mug of hot chocolate and Five pours himself coffee. End ID.]

sometimes you encounter a spirit problem you can't solve on your own and you break into your teacher's house about it. and then because in addition to being your teacher hes also a family friend you decide to interrogate him about why hes being so weird and secretive. Just normal things!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Flashback, warm nights.

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