#my bad for barely posting

[factoryofbettertomorrow]

raz psychonaut reminds me pyjama sam do you see the vision please see the vision

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Me when I really want to draw fanart for a fandom because it looks so cool, but I haven't the slightest idea about any deeper lore than surface level plot and symbolism

[cloudabserk]

look i understand if you like marius because this is the evil morally bankrupt vampire story. however when people argue that marius was actually really cool and chill and normal about armand i want to fight them

[fearfulandhungry]

[muln]

cant even remembr what all this was for

[acekindaneat]

do you guys think serizawa has seen reigen somewhere before in passing

reference + another version under cut!

i knowww it's an old redraw thing but i wanted to redraw serizawa in it for so long... here's a version without the vignette

[chill--cat]

VBS pixel art

Made in an excel spreadsheet

[7roaches]

sick asl rn nd drew these laying down

[crookedfivefingers]

[collarful-clover]

Like this post to instantly explode him

[heynhay]

mid week klance because my queen @klanced is on the struggle so I made lawyer au

[eelektroenthusiast]

Emmy and the eel! + wally doodles

[nabaath-areng]

When I was little I thought one of our cats Sockan (translation: the sock) was a tiger. She was more bright orange/red IRL too compared to photos

[corntired]

Fanfiction is so goated actually

No monetary incentive, just writing in one's free time. Some incentive for like kudos and comments, because who doesn't want to hear that someone else enjoyed what they wrote. Just writing a story that is good and/or enjoyable, no real-life pressure to keep it going because god forbid you and other people are depending on it financially.

Writing a story because you want to write a good story, so you can write what they want the way you want, at a pace that is realistic for you, with exactly the plot pacing you want there to be.

[melikes-reads]

What if we were strangers but you saved me from bullies in high school?

What if we became the best of friends?

What if I saved you from your violent father?

What if you ran away for 15 years?

What if you came back into my life, unexpectedly?

What if I told you you're the centre of the world?

What if you told me: "Of your world, maybe"

WHAT THEN? WHAT THEN?

[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.