postgameblues

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it's pride month, you know I had to draw my fav dumbasses 🏳️‍🌈 ❤️💙

happy pride month everyone!

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When a fic doesn’t fit my head canons but it’s well-written

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side eye O.o

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#knbweek2025

Please join and participate if you can for KnB Week 2025!!

use hashtag #knbweek2025 when you post so we can find your work!!

(Any Questions Please feel free to ask this blog)

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wait kids need ai to make their favorite characters talk??? they can't just do that in their heads normal style?? what happened to making your favorite characters kiss by making little videos in your head and projecting it into your psyche cinema style before bedtime

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dming people is so scary it feels like im walking directly into their bedroom and putting some bullshit on their bed

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Kagami’s desire to save Aomine resembles a fairytale quest — like a prince setting out to rescue his princess.😩🩷

And Aomine’s like, ‘I wanna be saved,’ but he’s just being a tsundere about it😌

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Time for Aomine’s third most classic maneuver, a trick as old as time, and so simple even a child could do it. Granted, children are usually the typical perpetrators. “Like hell I’d tell you,” he repeats in an annoyingly high pitched, mocking tone, as he sinks down in his chair like a petulant imp. “Wah Wah Wah, I’m Taiga Kagami, and I’m just drowning in it. The women looove how socially awkward and short-tempered I am.”

He’s snickering. Even if he gets punched, it’s worth it. Too late, Aomine realizes he shouldn’t be antagonizing the only thing saving him from starvation. Time to dial it back just a notch. “Look at these, though.” He starts before pulling out his phone, the chair squeaking as he gets up in Kagami’s personal space once more, back leaning against the counter and forcing attention. He deserves it, he’s the guest.

“Mizuki, she’s like a model or sumn.” He holds up his phone, showing a Rakuzan cheerleader. “And thiiiis is uh,” he frowns as he swipes to a picture of yet another pretty girl. “I don’t remember her name, whoops. This is Takara…” it goes on like this for at least twenty pictures, sliding through his photo gallery of conquests like they were in fact, best buds. But his smugness is wiped away in a moment. Any other time he’d be so careful. He’s known for being careful. He cannot risk this getting out. But you know what they say about showing off, it bites you in the ass.

“And this is —“

He starts speaking before he realizes what he’s done. This time the picture isn’t of a pretty girl. This time, it’s of a still quite pretty man. He’s built petite, in a skirt and thigh high stockings. Around his neck is a little collar with a bell. It’s just a screenshot from some random TikTok he saw. That’s it. That’s it.

“…uhh, that is um,” his brain short circuits. Think, think, think. Momoi messages him again asking what he’s doing. Yes, that’s it. “Momoi. I knew she’d like the outfit so I was gonna show her.”

In an instant he’s back in the chair, not betraying how his heart is beating out its chest. What if Kagami put it together? What if he thought he was a freak? What if he had to kill him? Can he even kill Kagami? Fuck!

How dare Kagami try to make him look like a weirdo in this situation. He’s innocent! He’s a victim! He was led here under false pretenses…it doesn’t matter if he was going to attempt to weasel his way into staying regardless. That’s not the point. Dark skin flushes to a noticeable extent, before he gains a modicum of composure and sports his signature scowl. “Uh, duh? Why would I be a ladies man? Look at me?” He flexes his biceps that already look like they’re on the edge of tearing his form-fitting tee. Flexing is another good defense mechanism. “You would be too, if you weren’t so, y’know.”

Shaking his head, he reaches in the cupboard and grabs the bowls, setting them on the counter and making SURE this time, that there’s no accidental contact. “If you weren’t so Kagami.” What he means by that remains to be seen, as he busies himself with sitting at the dining table, drumming his fingers absentmindedly.

Kagami’s back is to him, and his eyes do wander. From that shock of crimson hair, rippling traps, the way that—dude get it together. “Is it almost done? Coulda already had 3 Big Macs by now.”

Leave it at that, leave it at that, leave it at that.

“Fuck you mean you wouldn’t do it like that? Huh? You think about that type of shit a lot? How to seduce me if you were a chick?” He laughs and it’s far too sharp and loud. It could be taken for nervous, even.

Leave it there. Please. For the love of god.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find a hot babe who thinks you’re God’s gift for winning the championship. Shocked it hasn’t happened already.”

Amen that it hasn’t.

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fym it’s not? Ive seen this at the lakers game lowkey…

BRO THIS IS NOT BASKETBALL

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How dare Kagami try to make him look like a weirdo in this situation. He’s innocent! He’s a victim! He was led here under false pretenses…it doesn’t matter if he was going to attempt to weasel his way into staying regardless. That’s not the point. Dark skin flushes to a noticeable extent, before he gains a modicum of composure and sports his signature scowl. “Uh, duh? Why would I be a ladies man? Look at me?” He flexes his biceps that already look like they’re on the edge of tearing his form-fitting tee. Flexing is another good defense mechanism. “You would be too, if you weren’t so, y’know.”

Shaking his head, he reaches in the cupboard and grabs the bowls, setting them on the counter and making SURE this time, that there’s no accidental contact. “If you weren’t so Kagami.” What he means by that remains to be seen, as he busies himself with sitting at the dining table, drumming his fingers absentmindedly.

Kagami’s back is to him, and his eyes do wander. From that shock of crimson hair, rippling traps, the way that—dude get it together. “Is it almost done? Coulda already had 3 Big Macs by now.”

Leave it at that, leave it at that, leave it at that.

“Fuck you mean you wouldn’t do it like that? Huh? You think about that type of shit a lot? How to seduce me if you were a chick?” He laughs and it’s far too sharp and loud. It could be taken for nervous, even.

Leave it there. Please. For the love of god.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find a hot babe who thinks you’re God’s gift for winning the championship. Shocked it hasn’t happened already.”

Amen that it hasn’t.

This feels weird. This is sticky and unplanned. Yeah his Grandma cooks for him every night, but that’s IT. Not Momoi, not Sakurai, this is so…weird. He wants to protest this whole affair but damn if he isn’t hungry. His stomach churns, from the emptiness and from the unknowing. Defeated, he opens the fridge and scans through, settling on the aforementioned Pocari. He cracks it and goes back to overseeing/watching/staring. “Why you being so nice to me, Kagami?” WOW he said his proper name. “Well, you and I aren’t exactly…” what are they?

He’s saved by his phone buzzing incessantly in his pocket. Momentarily distracted, he fishes it out, gazing over the 25 texts from Momoi, and now a call from Grandma. Wonderful timing. What’s he supposed to say? He’s getting made dinner by a guy? Maybe he shouldn’t answer. No, that’s too suspicious. Fuck.

“Kya galat?” (what’s wrong?) He finally answers, sipping the Pocari and leaning against the wall. The chief complaint is pretty simple. Momoi can’t get ahold of him and he’s at a random location. Momoi called his Aayi, and now here we are. Jesus, these women are so nosy. “With a friend. Hanging out. Yeah I know him from basketball. No you haven’t met him. No he doesn’t do drugs.” (He thinks?) He dissuades her concerns in Hindi, the most gentle and soft you’ll ever hear his voice. Aomine is relieved when she finally eases up, promptly exchanging goodbyes and hanging up. Talk about embarrassing.

“Anyways, like I was saying,” he continues to Kagami, before downing the Pocari and tossing it into the trashcan with effortless grace. “Like if you were a girl I’d totally think you’re trying to do me right now or something.” Smooth.

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`cigarette daydreams

you were only seventeen`

art cred: alphonse59

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This feels weird. This is sticky and unplanned. Yeah his Grandma cooks for him every night, but that’s IT. Not Momoi, not Sakurai, this is so…weird. He wants to protest this whole affair but damn if he isn’t hungry. His stomach churns, from the emptiness and from the unknowing. Defeated, he opens the fridge and scans through, settling on the aforementioned Pocari. He cracks it and goes back to overseeing/watching/staring. “Why you being so nice to me, Kagami?” WOW he said his proper name. “Well, you and I aren’t exactly…” what are they?

He’s saved by his phone buzzing incessantly in his pocket. Momentarily distracted, he fishes it out, gazing over the 25 texts from Momoi, and now a call from Grandma. Wonderful timing. What’s he supposed to say? He’s getting made dinner by a guy? Maybe he shouldn’t answer. No, that’s too suspicious. Fuck.

“Kya galat?” (what’s wrong?) He finally answers, sipping the Pocari and leaning against the wall. The chief complaint is pretty simple. Momoi can’t get ahold of him and he’s at a random location. Momoi called his Aayi, and now here we are. Jesus, these women are so nosy. “With a friend. Hanging out. Yeah I know him from basketball. No you haven’t met him. No he doesn’t do drugs.” (He thinks?) He dissuades her concerns in Hindi, the most gentle and soft you’ll ever hear his voice. Aomine is relieved when she finally eases up, promptly exchanging goodbyes and hanging up. Talk about embarrassing.

“Anyways, like I was saying,” he continues to Kagami, before downing the Pocari and tossing it into the trashcan with effortless grace. “Like if you were a girl I’d totally think you’re trying to do me right now or something.” Smooth.

Wait a minute…wait a damn minute now!

“Huh?” Aomine offers, half from the bewilderment of just how big this place is, and also by the fact TAIGA KAGAMI is cooking for him? Was this the plan all along? Had he been played? What the fuck? “That wasn’t the bet. You were supposed to buy me dinner not make it.” Aomine is bitching, but he’s still unlacing his shoes and (somewhat) kicking them off, pouting at the betrayal. “And now I know you’re definitely not broke so you have no excuse. What, you trying to poison me?”

The dramatics simmer momentarily as he latches onto something else. The fact he really did need to take a piss. Whatever…they can argue later. He mumbles something under his breath in Hindi before shuffling off, wondering if this is how girls feel like when he asks them to “come over to hang out.” Wait, no. It’s definitely not like that.

The bathroom is huge, it makes him feel small. Lazy eyes wander over the various products, somewhat triumphant to find the name of the cologne. After washing his hands, yeah he could go yell at Kagami some more…but he was also told to do whatever he wants.

He takes the opposite way down the hall, his only driving factor being nosy. Before long he’s standing in Kagami’s bedroom, scanning like a detective. There’s a picture of a woman on his dresser, his mom? More shoes than Aomine owns, that bastard. His bed was made. What a square.

After a moment Aomine realizes how creepy he’s being and exits, opting to stand in the kitchen with his arms folded, critical. “Hope you know that if you won I woulda only taken you to McDonald’s.”

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dozing off 😴

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Wait a minute…wait a damn minute now!

“Huh?” Aomine offers, half from the bewilderment of just how big this place is, and also by the fact TAIGA KAGAMI is cooking for him? Was this the plan all along? Had he been played? What the fuck? “That wasn’t the bet. You were supposed to buy me dinner not make it.” Aomine is bitching, but he’s still unlacing his shoes and (somewhat) kicking them off, pouting at the betrayal. “And now I know you’re definitely not broke so you have no excuse. What, you trying to poison me?”

The dramatics simmer momentarily as he latches onto something else. The fact he really did need to take a piss. Whatever…they can argue later. He mumbles something under his breath in Hindi before shuffling off, wondering if this is how girls feel like when he asks them to “come over to hang out.” Wait, no. It’s definitely not like that.

The bathroom is huge, it makes him feel small. Lazy eyes wander over the various products, somewhat triumphant to find the name of the cologne. After washing his hands, yeah he could go yell at Kagami some more…but he was also told to do whatever he wants.

He takes the opposite way down the hall, his only driving factor being nosy. Before long he’s standing in Kagami’s bedroom, scanning like a detective. There’s a picture of a woman on his dresser, his mom? More shoes than Aomine owns, that bastard. His bed was made. What a square.

After a moment Aomine realizes how creepy he’s being and exits, opting to stand in the kitchen with his arms folded, critical. “Hope you know that if you won I woulda only taken you to McDonald’s.”

This isn’t anything like his grandma’s house, that’s for sure. Aomine and her resided in a modest but tidy apartment with a patchy backyard. You’d think his parents would send more money, provide a better living situation to the woman who’s raising their son. Oh well.

His Jordan’s squeak as he sulks in the corner of the elevator, looking everywhere but that pretty smug expression. “Dude you’re delusional. Pfft.” He scratches the back of his neck, the power dynamic shifting again, as it always does. At a frenetic, dizzying pace. He’s never been so happy to step out before, the proximity putting him on a buzzy edge.

“What the fuck you even got in here? Don’t you know about Instacart?” He complains as he trails after Kagami like some kind of…like some kind of puppy. Ugh. Was the food even worth it at this point? “DoorDash too. If you wanna just order me something that works too. Kinda not ready to freeze my balls off again.”

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This isn’t anything like his grandma’s house, that’s for sure. Aomine and her resided in a modest but tidy apartment with a patchy backyard. You’d think his parents would send more money, provide a better living situation to the woman who’s raising their son. Oh well.

His Jordan’s squeak as he sulks in the corner of the elevator, looking everywhere but that pretty smug expression. “Dude you’re delusional. Pfft.” He scratches the back of his neck, the power dynamic shifting again, as it always does. At a frenetic, dizzying pace. He’s never been so happy to step out before, the proximity putting him on a buzzy edge.

“What the fuck you even got in here? Don’t you know about Instacart?” He complains as he trails after Kagami like some kind of…like some kind of puppy. Ugh. Was the food even worth it at this point? “DoorDash too. If you wanna just order me something that works too. Kinda not ready to freeze my balls off again.”

Aomine isn’t the most emotionally aware. He’s not the most empathetic, the most understanding. He’s a teenage boy with the burden of both mommy and daddy issues. That being said, Kagami’s tone when he gives his own brief synopsis is…telling. Nobody else would have noticed. But Aomine has seen Kagami in a way people seldom do. On the court, they’re naked, stripped bare, no false pretenses. He’s memorized the sound of his heartbeat.

He KNOWS that the topic is making the other bristle, a silent melancholy that floats on the breeze and wraps around him, like Kagami’s cologne that was reaaally starting to get to him. He doesn’t push it further. Let that be where they leave it.

“Dope. Mr Independent. Do whatever the hell you want, sounds great.” Aomine replies through a lens of a teenage boy. It does sound great. Just like being Tōō’s golden boy, like being DAIKI AOMINE sounds great. But he knows there’s more to it. “Yo can I use your bathroom? I gotta take a leak.”

Truthfully Aomine’s taken by surprise when he peers up at Kagami’s place. Whoa. Wow. Holy shit. This is… “Damn. You’re really an Uptown Girl, huh.” He’s half hoping Kagami catches the reference, other half begging he doesn’t. Aomine watches Kagami try to fumble with his keys while holding such a treasure tribe of groceries. Tch. “Here, just gimme.”

Hands brush for an eternity and a millisecond all at once. Kagami’s are bigger, more calloused. Aomine has those slender piano player hands. From his mother. Maybe. It’s hard to remember details like that.

He hoists the bags over his shoulder, quite pleased by his act of…something. “Whaddya do without me?”

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`And oh, my love, my love

We both go down together

And my parents will never consent to this love

But I hold your hand

Meet me on my vast veranda`

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Aomine isn’t the most emotionally aware. He’s not the most empathetic, the most understanding. He’s a teenage boy with the burden of both mommy and daddy issues. That being said, Kagami’s tone when he gives his own brief synopsis is…telling. Nobody else would have noticed. But Aomine has seen Kagami in a way people seldom do. On the court, they’re naked, stripped bare, no false pretenses. He’s memorized the sound of his heartbeat.

He KNOWS that the topic is making the other bristle, a silent melancholy that floats on the breeze and wraps around him, like Kagami’s cologne that was reaaally starting to get to him. He doesn’t push it further. Let that be where they leave it.

“Dope. Mr Independent. Do whatever the hell you want, sounds great.” Aomine replies through a lens of a teenage boy. It does sound great. Just like being Tōō’s golden boy, like being DAIKI AOMINE sounds great. But he knows there’s more to it. “Yo can I use your bathroom? I gotta take a leak.”

Truthfully Aomine’s taken by surprise when he peers up at Kagami’s place. Whoa. Wow. Holy shit. This is… “Damn. You’re really an Uptown Girl, huh.” He’s half hoping Kagami catches the reference, other half begging he doesn’t. Aomine watches Kagami try to fumble with his keys while holding such a treasure tribe of groceries. Tch. “Here, just gimme.”

Hands brush for an eternity and a millisecond all at once. Kagami’s are bigger, more calloused. Aomine has those slender piano player hands. From his mother. Maybe. It’s hard to remember details like that.

He hoists the bags over his shoulder, quite pleased by his act of…something. “Whaddya do without me?”

Aomine instantly feels a bit stupid. Well, that was a valid point. Why’s he so hostile with Kagami anyways? Sure he has dickish tendencies, but man if this guy doesn’t trigger some primal fight or flight response with…just existing. He trudges after the redhead without a care in the world, eyes flitting up to look at the sky. It was really bright out, clear. Yeah, it was a good day.

“Yeah, I was born there. Moved here when I was three.” Once again he’s initially annoyed at such a dumb question, before remembering they are not friends and know virtually nothing about each other off the court. Should they keep it that way? Well, he’s buying him dinner…

“Dad’s from here. Met mom on a work trip. Ta-dah, me. After they split, she moved back there. Dad’s company is based in the Philippines now, so I’ve just been staying with my grandma for awhile.”

Such an intense lore drop makes him wince. Was any of that necessary? He answered everything but the important question. He’s revealed too much. What if Kagami, oh god, asks more questions? What next? Does he have to explain that his parents were, and will always be, career driven over family oriented?

The fights they’d have when they thought he was asleep. That technically it got so bad that his grandma has had legal custody of him since he was 12? Not that his parents seemed to mind. They’d send him gifts, buy him whatever he wanted, would check in for his birthday, most times. Nah, they’re not gonna get friendly enough to divulge that. Momoi knows it all and that’s enough.

“It’s not real big over there.” He clears his throat, pace slowly slightly behind Kagami, trying to think of something snarky, he can’t. “Might visit this summer and I’ll be lucky to find a court. It’s all cricket. Bet you dunno what that even is.”

Ah, there it is. “Your parents gonna be home? Your mom hot?” Double success.