#bye <333!!

[boilompiz]

SOONAMI :))))!!!!!!!!

So I’ve been experimenting with my style a bit lately and I felt like draw my favorite killing girl evr <333

This was originally gonna be a fullbody thang but i IMMEDIATELY gave up on that . My lazy ass 😢

Anywho I heart u Tsunami wof … will u listen to SOAD with me 🫶??

[littlecrittereli]

Wanted to doodle some comfort bros to balance out the angst of my recent posts lol

Hey pookies! Just wanted to say I really appreciate all the love and support I've been receiving lately for Decoded! I always love your comments/asks/fanart/memes, it genuinely has been bringing me so much joy and I'm so grateful for it <3

I know I said I had a lot of art to post (and then proceeded to post none of it LOL) I'm just a little overwhelmed rn with some life stuff so sorry for the wait! I also have a lot asks that I haven't gotten to and I apologize for that as well!

Trying my best to keep up, but I haven't had a lot of time recently. Art's gonna be a little delayed, but don't worry Chapter 8 is still gonna come out this Saturday as scheduled!

[babeypigeon]

mason family vacation 🫶☀️🇲🇽🧡

[unpaidnapper]

[l3viat8an]

Putting a collar ‘n leash on Lucifer <3

[lunarlivs]

‪♡

[shortcakelils]

@mintythecup @whosectype

‘twas inspired by this screenshot

[otrtbs]

BARTYLUS BASEBALL THING

(inspired by this which haunts my thoughts 24/7)

Word Count: 5.2k

Part: 1/?

Summary: every summer begets the baseball tournament of the year. barty drags regulus to the opening game, kickstarting a series of unintended events.

Barty’s whole body hums, the way it always does when he’s around Regulus. Like the old TV his father has that crackles to life in static whirs, or the green boxes in the neighborhood that Barty would sit on until the sun went down. Constant electricity.

“I mean, they’ve been doing this for years now and I have been explicitly forbidden from going,” Regulus returns. Still, he doesn’t seem affected one way or the other. “Mother wouldn’t like it.”

“Oh, mother wouldn’t like it?” Barty snorts, mockingly. “So what? It’ll give us something to do. And it’ll give us an opportunity to see each other since your parents plan on keeping you locked up in the house all summer,” he counters, and Regulus knocks a sharp shoulder into his arm. “It’s good to stick together. Mother doesn’t have to know.”

They’re walking side by side on the pavement. Slow, shuffling feet. Hands in their pockets. It’s the last day of class for the school year. Without school, there’s no way for Barty to see Regulus. Barty went all of last summer without seeing Regulus and it was boring and brutal.

Regulus takes a hand out of his pocket and pushes the hair out of his face. The sun is bright, and it causes him to squint. “Sirius still playing?”

Barty nods. “Yeah. He’s still on the James Potter all-star team. I heard Potter even talked Frank Longbottom out of retirement for one last summer.”

“He’s only two years older than us,” Regulus scoffs.

“Still, he didn’t play last summer.”

Regulus nods slowly.

They walk down the pavement silently, dragging footsteps, trying to delay the inevitable.

“It is good to stick together.” Regulus looks at Barty and traces the bruise on his cheek with his finger lightly. Barty is proud of the way he doesn’t flinch, even if the bruise is still tender and aching. He’s not so proud of the way he leans into the touch, even if it hurts.

This entire time, Barty was worried about leaving Regulus alone for a summer with no one but his parents for company. Now he thinks Regulus was equally worried for him, for the same reasons.

“But, I don’t like baseball,” Regulus muses, pulling his finger away.

“No, but you like me,” Barty grins wickedly. “Besides, we’ll just make fun of the whole thing, and I’ll steal my dad’s liquor and we’ll make it fun.”

Regulus pretends to think about it, but it doesn’t matter. Barty knows him. He knows Regulus is going to give in.

The summer baseball tournament is a local legend among the neighborhood kids, and the kids from surrounding neighborhoods too. The first baseball game began five years ago after they knocked down an old rickety building and reduced it to rubble. It didn’t take long for the land to reclaim the area and grow into tall stalks of grassy growth. That’s when, at age 12, Frank Longbottom got the bright idea to turn it into a makeshift baseball field.

The first year, Frank could barely get enough people together to make two teams, and it was so hot in the daylight that they never finished a full game before the kids scattered back into their air-conditioned homes. By year two, Frank had taken the entire school year to recruit people from surrounding neighborhoods and moved the games to the evening to beat the blazing heat.

This would be the fifth consecutive year that the tournament would run. Some kids still used the lot to play baseball in the winter or the spring, but this? This was official. After five years, the summer games became a thing of wonder for all of the young people in town. Anyone aged 12-17 could be on a team, you had to have nine to a team to enter, and each team wishing to compete in the tournament would have to have an official group name, a poster, and a roster. You had to submit and finalize your team two months before the school year ended.

That’s when the fun began. Students would make fliers and posters advertising their teams. Slips of copy paper folded up into tiny squares and passed down the aisles of desks to avoid the sharp eyes of teachers and administrators. The official list is always posted on the first Saturday of May. One expertly crayola, stickered, and markered sheet listing the teams, players, and field positions was nailed to the hollow oak tree stump in the woods by the creek. All the children knew where it was, and all of the adults would never stumble across it. Once the list was posted, the betting could begin.

Mundungus Fletcher and his group of friends ran the baseball betting ring. They would sit out by the old tree stump every Saturday with their journals taking meticulous notes of everyone placing bets and what they brought in. Nothing was off limits, Mundungus Fletcher accepted everything from stickers to lighters. Packs of bubble gum, nail polish, the two or three cigarettes you could manage to steal from your father, anything. Of course, not everything was of equal value. A lighter was worth two full-size candy bars (and it couldn’t be one of the bad ones like Almond Joy or 3 Musketeers they had to Reece's or Twix) and two small stickers. A nail polish was worth a rubber band ball and a blow pop. Mundungus Fletcher and his team took their jobs seriously, monitoring the conversion rates and doling out prizes. Every Saturday the children of the neighborhood would scramble, bringing in whatever they thought would be best for the pot. A few stray dollar bills, their coins, candy, lip gloss, sunglasses, bouncy balls, yo-yos, marbles, stamps, pokemon cards, queued-up mp3 players, necklaces, baseball caps, and even beloved childhood stuffed animals weren’t safe when it was time for baseball bets.

Mundungus kept all of the bets in one of his mother’s large kitchen mixing bowls, then two of his mother’s large mixing bowls, then in empty shoe boxes as things began to overfill. He said he hid all the betting goods in a secret, secure location, but Barty was pretty sure he was just keeping it all under his bed. Regardless, Mundungus would bring out the spoils every Saturday so that all of the kids in the neighborhood could see their potential spoils, provided they picked the right team. It was a great incentive to get people to partake.

As for the baseball teams, there were eight this year, the most they’d ever had. They would be competing to be number one. The winning team of the summer baseball tournament became town celebrities for the year. They always got first dibs at the carnival that came to town (they could skip the ride lines and take two turns in a row on the Ferris wheel), they got to use the tire swing into the creek whenever they wanted (they never had to wait to use it or take turns), and, because some of the older kids had jobs already, if you were on the winning baseball team you would often get free movie tickets and popcorn, or free ice cream if one of the other kids was working. There was an unspoken rule, a reverence, that the winning team had with the other kids in town, they were Gods among mortals, they would want for nothing, ask for anything, and receive it. The winning team also gets crowned with Coca-Cola canned bottle crowns that Barty thinks look stupid, but everyone else seems way too into them.

This all happens without the supervision of any adults. It was the most sacred vow that everyone tried not to break. No adults allowed. Adults always had the propensity to ruin things. They would think too hard about things, create problems that didn’t exist, and they would shut the baseball tournament down. This year, like last year, the games don’t start until one in the morning, while almost every adult is asleep soundly in their beds, getting ready for work the next morning. Of course, more than a few adults know about this tournament, and most don’t care. Regulus’ mother, like Barty’s father, is allergic to fun, so they’re both banned from going. Some kids have meltdowns over being banned from the games. Two years ago, a game couldn’t be played because two players were grounded and the team had to forfeit.

The stakes and the pressure were always high.

The stakes were high for Barty this year too, even if he wasn’t playing. He looks at Regulus as they come to the end of the street, shuffling feet. Regulus' house looms behind him, and Barty can see Walburga watching from the window on the second floor, peering purse-lipped through the curtains.

Barty’s hands stay in his pockets. “I guess I’ll see you then.”

Regulus nods. His face doesn’t waver but his eyes sparkle with secrecy. “Yeah, later.”

—

Throwing rocks at people’s windows is the worst.

Barty isn’t enthused.

First, he had to collect a bunch of rocks to stuff his pockets with on the way over, second, it was dark and there weren’t any street lights on Regulus’ street so everything looked exactly the same, and third, he was rapidly running out of rocks.

He skims them lightly at first. Tap. Tap. Tap.

They bounce off the glass of Regulus’ window in soft thuds.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Jesus Christ, how long did it take for Regulus to sneak out and come down?

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Barty’s annoyed now. Maybe he wasn’t throwing them hard enough?

He throws the next few with more force.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

He keeps throwing them until he’s out of rocks.

Now what?

He stands on the side of Regulus’ house, trying to squint up into the dark window. He’s not sure if Regulus would turn a light on in the house and risk it, but it looks like nothing is going on in there. Regulus had promised him that he wasn’t a deep sleeper.

Outside the crickets chirp in song and the blades of grass tickle Barty’s ankles as the night breeze causes them to sway.

Fuck it.

Barty picks up a much larger rock that’s at his feet, and forgetting himself for a moment, he throws it with all the strength of the last throw and then some. The glass breaks and shatters with a delicious noise, but Barty can't admire it, because he’s already turning on his heel and running.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Past the first house and then the second and then–

Oh.

Oh.

His feet all but screech to a halt on the pavement as he looks up at Regulus’ house. Regulus’ real house. This time he’s sure of it.

It’s not his fault everything looks the same in the dark.

Barty shrugs, trying to calm his racing heart and catch his breath as he leans down to pick up some smaller rocks from the ground.

As quietly as he can, he stalks over to the side of the house Regulus’ bedroom window is on, and starts the process over.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He uses a much lighter touch.

Thankfully, Regulus comes out after nine stones, no lights ever turned on inside the Black family residence.

“I’m surprised you don’t play,” Barty says as they walk side-by-side to the baseball field.

“Why’s that?” Regulus looks at him like he’s sprouted another head.

Barty shrugs, looking up at the waxing moon. “Your whole family does. Sirius and Andromeda are on a team. And Narcissa’s a pitcher. Bellatrix is on Tom’s team. Also a pitcher. You mean to tell me you haven’t thought about it?”

“Narcissa plays?” Regulus furrows his brows. “I didn’t know that.”

There was a lot about summer baseball that Regulus didn’t know. Barty takes it upon himself to explain on the walk over.

“There are really only three teams to beat in this tournament. Tom’s team, they’re the Death Eaters, that’s their team name. Nobody likes them and everyone is afraid of them because they play dirty. Last year, Bellatrix beamed Remus in the nose so hard that she broke it. Tom ordered it. Then you’ve got the Serpents, they’re my favorites. That’s the one Narcissa plays on. They haven’t won a tournament ever, but this is their year. Trust me. And then there’s,” Barty rolls his eyes for dramatic effect. “The Lions or whatever the fuck.”

“Horrible team name,” Regulus’ mouth twists up into a smile.

“Truly,” Barty nods. “James Potter is the captain, right-hand man is your brother, and they of course have recruited the legendary Frank Longbottom to come back and steal the baseball title from Tom’s Death Eaters. It was a huge upset when Tom’s team won two years ago, so much so that Frank quit the following year, and Tom won again, and now,” Barty shrugs. “I guess he’s back.”

“So the Lions are like the founding team?” Regulus asks, and Barty nods. He’s surprised Regulus doesn’t know this from his brother.

“Yeah, the original team. Doesn’t mean they’re gonna win though, even with Frank. Tom might actually kill somebody before he lets that happen.”

“But the Lions, they’re the favorites?”

Barty fake gags. “Depends on who you ask. Not my favorites.”

“Mine neither,” Regulus says decisively.

Barty wonders if he’s thinking about all of the lion posters and memorabilia that Sirius used to keep in his bedroom. Regulus would always complain about the bright red and gold team colors and the obnoxious designs, but he doesn’t complain about anything anymore now that Sirius’ room is empty.

Barty looked out for him then. When Sirius packed up everything and ran away to James’ house. It was odd, Regulus seemed to be the only one who knew what it was then. Walburga and Orion seemed to be in denial. Sirius would come home, it was an extended sleepover– which they were never allowed to have, Sirius would realize how good he had it and he’d come back. Only Regulus seemed to understand that they’d never live under the same roof again.

Barty was there. He was there while Regulus ranted and raved and paced and shook his fists at the sky. He was there when Regulus crumpled up like a sheet of paper and collapsed in on himself, shoulders shaking in silent cries. He was there when Sirius spent every second trying to convince Regulus to come to James’ house with him, begged Regulus to talk to him, tried to pass him letters in the street that Regulus would let fall to the pavement. And he was there when Regulus picked himself up and pretended as if the entire affair was beneath him.

They were there for each other. Alway had been. Barty would never leave like Sirius did. He wouldn’t dream of it. He’d stick around as long as Regulus would let him, as pathetic as that sounded. He’d like to think that Regulus would stick around too. Regulus with his dark eyes and all-too-serious look of someone always deep in thought. Sharp, gray eyes that narrowed in displeasure at everything. It took a lot of effort to get Regulus to smile, even more effort to make him laugh. Barty had never done something so rewarding. The surge he felt in his chest whenever Regulus would grin or laugh at something Barty had said was addicting. It made him lightheaded and delirious.

“Look what I brought,” Barty grins, pulling out the flask from his back pocket. The silver can glints in the moonlight.

Regulus’ hand reaches to grab at the flask as they walk in time. Barty likes the way their feet sound on the pavement when they’re in step. He hates that he’s been having thoughts like these more and more frequently. He can’t fucking help himself.

Regulus takes a swig and does his best not to shudder as the warm liquor lights a fire down his throat. Barty finds it slightly endearing as he raises his eyebrows at Regulus, waiting for him to cough and sputter. It never comes.

Barty watches as Regulus licks his lips and hands the flask back to Barty, cheeks pink. Barty is overcome with the desire to kiss him, to taste the honeyed bourbon still on his lips and feel the lightning bolts race through his veins, but he contains himself. Another annoying and incessant thought.

In an attempt to recover, he swings hard at Regulus’ shoulder, harder than he should, as he tuts, “Don’t drink it all, save some for the game.”

Regulus turns to him once more, face indignant as he rubs his arm where Barty has just punched. “Fuck you, I barely even drank any.”

“It looked like a big swallow to me.”

Now it was Regulus’ turn to punch Barty, but there was no heat behind it. “Fucking hell, I told you to stop swinging on me like that. I’ll break your nose next time, I swear to God.”

Barty grins. “Is that a promise?”

“Freak,” Regulus shakes his head, but he’s back to being amused.

“You love it.”

They make it to the field early, but there are already people streaming in with bright battery-operated lights for the game, talking excitedly to themselves. A team is warming up the field, practicing their swings and stretching, Barty listens to the clatter of the bleachers that someone had brought to the lot two years ago. He’s not sure how they did it.

He watches Regulus watch the scene in wonder.

“They have concession stands?” He asks, looking at the girl and boy selling things on the pavement in front of the lot. They both sit at a little plastic table with plastic chairs, their sign advertises what they're selling, crackerjack, peanuts, sodas, trail mix, lemonade.

“Uh, I guess,” Barty shrugs. “That’s new. Seems a bit much.”

Still, he buys two bags of boiled peanuts and two cokes for them anyway.

Mundungus Fletcher and his friends are there, calling out to everyone to join in the bets. Tonight is the last night to enter.

Regulus stops by and drops off a few things, about ten dollars, 4 packs of gum, sunglasses with flames up the side that used to belong to Sirius, and 5 spinning tops.

“Regulus Black,” Mundungus fills out his name in the notebook in inky black pen, carefully recording the list of everything he’s brought. “Let me guess, you’re betting it all on the Lions?”

His voice is loud and booming, with the confidence of a sports announcer but the underlying hint of deception like a used car salesman.

“No,” Regulus scowls at him.

“Oh, I just assumed because of your brother that–”

“I want to bet it all on the Serpents. I hear their pitcher is really good.”

Barty smiles as Mundungus nods. “And you Crouch? Any last-minute bets?”

Barty shakes his head. “I’ve already got over $50 in the game. I have to draw the line somewhere.”

Regulus signs on the dotted line confirming his entry and they make their way to the bleachers. Even though it’s dark out, it’s still uncomfortably warm outside. Some kids have brought battery-operated handheld fans with styrofoam propellers to keep them cool. Others have ice packs.

Barty figures that he can just sit behind someone with a fan and benefit from the airflow. The bleachers begin to fill up as the game draws closer. Kids bring signs elaborately decorated with all of their best art supplies. Glitter glue, puff paint, rhinestones, and neon markers. Some have even painted their faces.

Barty and Regulus spot Remus Lupin at the same time. He’s walking towards a group of kids scrambling to set up a radio and microphone at the announcer's table.

“One. Two. One. Two,” Remus says into the microphone and it resounds throughout the lot, as a hush falls in the bleachers.

“He’s not playing?” Regulus leans in to ask Barty, his shoulder brushing against him.

Barty shakes his head. “Not since the Bellatrix incident, no. He’s no good anymore. Flinches when the ball comes towards him, forgets to swing the bat.”

“Remus Lupin?” Regulus’ eyebrows shoot up like he doesn’t believe it. But he doesn’t have to believe it, he can see Remus take his place at the announcer's table.

Remus runs the scoreboard, calls the players up, and explains the plays for the kids who don’t really know what’s going on. Mary MacDonald helps him with the music and the score when she’s not playing, otherwise, Rita Skeeter helps out, much to the annoyance of everyone.

“Oh, what the fuck,” Regulus snorts. “What’s next, they bring out someone to sing the national anthem?”

“Don’t give them any ideas.”

The mood shifts in the stadium as they get ready to begin. Remus clears his throat in the microphone and it emits an ear-splitting feedback. Still, some kids were trickling in, sitting in the grass now that the bleachers were full.

On the other side of the field, sat the other teams that weren’t playing that night, just behind the makeshift dugouts.

“They like to sit and scope out the competition. They keep to themselves,” Barty explains when Regulus asks. “Can’t mingle with the common folk.”

Regulus scoffs, but Barty doesn’t miss the way his eyes search for Sirius across the field. When Regulus finds him, Sirius sits up straighter, already looking back. He goes to raise a hand to wave at him but Regulus turns his head away sharply, making a show of it.

Barty watches as Sirius moves to stand up like he’s going to run over to them and talk to Regulus, but a blonde girl, Marlene McKinnon, grabs his arm and pulls him down as the first players run out onto the field.

Remus introduces the two teams, the Death Eaters versus the Badgers. All around them, kids shake their yellow signs exuberantly, while some sport all black signs with skulls on them.

The Badgers are going to get destroyed. Anyone with half a brain would know it the minute they heard the match-up. While you had to be 12-17 to play, most of the kids on the Badgers’ team were closer to 12, whereas the Death Eaters were all 17. Barty was actually certain that a few of the kids were 18 or 19 and only getting by because they’d been held back a year or two in school.

He starts listening in to what Remus is saying as he passes Regulus his bag of boiled peanuts.

“With starting pitcher Bellatrix Black, and your team captain, Tom Riddle.”

The stands go wild, everyone stomping their feet on the metal bleachers causing a thunderous metal rumble and Regulus’ eyes widen at the commotion.

“Let’s play ball,” Remus called, rather monotone and complacent about the ordeal.

Regulus snorts. “This is beneath him.”

Barty nods in agreement.

Since there were eight teams in the tournament, there would be seven rounds total. Each round was a best-of-three battle to move on, for a maximum of 21 games, 21 nights, of baseball madness. They were guaranteed at least 14. Two full weeks of baseball. The event of the summer.

They watch as Bellatrix takes the pitcher's mound, licking up little clouds of dirt with her feet. He knocks his knee against Regulus’ at his cousin taking in both the crowd’s cheers and boos. Barty pours some of the bourbon into his Coke can and does the same for Regulus.

Bellatrix’s wild hair was long and curly, falling down her back. It was only kept out of her face by a black baseball cap, and she smiles sharply at the stands.

A soft tune plays as a short kid with spiky brown hair walks up to home plate, giving his bat a few test swings in preparation.

“I heard she puts some kind of resin or wax on her baseball cap to make the ball sticky,” Barty whispers like it’s some kind of secret.

“I believe it,” Regulus says, also leaning in. Barty tries to ignore the lightning bolts. The static frequency once again turned up a notch. “She used to cheat in every game we played growing up.”

They share a look as Bellatrix puts her fingers to the brim of her baseball hat and nods, baseball glove at the ready. The atmosphere has gone quiet like everyone is holding their breaths. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

The kid at home plate assumes position and Bellatrix winds up. The ball moves so fast that Barty doesn’t have time to register it, and neither does the kid at home plate, as the ball hits the catcher’s mitt with a hard thud.

“Strike one,” Remus’ voice echoes, and the spell is broken.

The crowd roars to life once more.

Barty and Regulus get lost in the atmosphere, the crack of the bat, the whizz of the ball, the cheers of people telling their friends to steal third. They crunch through their boiled peanuts and slowly work their way through their cokes, which get stronger as time passes, due to Barty constantly topping them up with flask bourbon.

At the top of the third, a Badger player manages a triple on Bellatrix, running in two of her teammates, so Bellatrix beams her at the top of the fourth, and lets her walk. It doesn’t matter though, the score is already 6-2. At the bottom of the sixth, Tom scores the first home run of the night, and more than a few of the silly girls from high school chirp and cheer loudly, making heart eyes in his direction.

“I mean,” Regulus leans in to whisper. “I kinda get it.”

Barty screws up his face in disgust. “Fuck no.”

He makes more than a few sarcastic remarks and snarky comments, all of which make Regulus laugh or smile. Barty is humming with delight, but he desperately tries to curtail it. Regulus is also getting into the game. It’s a gradual interest, but Barty finds that he’s watching Regulus more than the game. He watches as Regulus’ eyes furrow when someone gets an out, watches the slight smile grace his face as Bellatrix throws a particularly nasty screwball, watches Regulus’ vague curiosity at Tom’s simpering smirk. At some point, their knees touch, and they stay that way for the remainder of the night. Regulus, who shies away from any sort of contact, hasn't moved his knee away.

Barty fucking loves baseball.

The game ends at a brutal 11-2 at the top of the ninth inning. Though, to the Badger’s credit, they do not look defeated or deterred. They seem more than pleased with their two runs, all jostling and shaking the girl who made it possible with wide smiles and congratulations.

The bourbon has satiated Barty and left his head perfectly hazy. He offers a lazy smile to Regulus. “Walk you home?”

It’s late, and he’s feeling tired, he’s sure Regulus feels the same.

Regulus nods, finishing off the last of the coke, and subsequently the last of the bourbon.

“Can’t let you sleep through morning violin lessons, or French tutoring, or whatever the fuck your weird-ass family has you do.”

“Piano.” Regulus rolls his eyes as he corrects Barty. His cheeks are tinged slightly pink and his eyes are a little glassy.

Barty bites his lip to keep from smiling. What a lightweight.

They’re almost out of the field, about to slip down the quiet streets, when Regulus is pulled back by a hand on his shoulder.

Barty spins around to see Sirius with a group of his teammates.

“You came?” Is the first thing out of Sirius’ mouth.

“Not for you, for Barty,” Regulus shoots off just as quickly.

Sirius’ teammates stare at the ground nervously. He makes note of them. The blonde girl from before, Marlene, and he’d know James Potter anywhere. He’s never seen James without Sirius. And the redhead, Lily.

“Well, we play in four nights if you want to watch,” James offers a slight smile. “I’m James, by the way.”

Regulus regards him coldly. “I know who you are.”

“I just wanted to, uh, say hi.” Sirius’ voice is stilted, odd. Almost pained. Barty makes it his duty to glare daggers at him.

“Well, don’t do it again,” Regulus says smoothly, and Barty can tell he doesn’t mean it.

So can Sirius, as he smiles.

“You know we could always use an extra player on our team.”

“In your fucking dreams, Sirius.”

“Come on, we want to get uniforms made,” Sirius offers again, as if this fact would entice Regulus.

He doesn’t know Regulus like Barty knows him. Regulus would hate wearing matching baseball uniforms. He would detest it. He’d rather die.

Marlene rolls her eyes. “James just wants to prance about in those tight little pants.”

“Yeah,” James shoots back quickly. “And all the girls want to see me prance about in those tight little pants, and who am I to deny the people what they desperately want?”

Lily scoffs as Regulus turns to leave, dragging Barty with him.

“Wait,” Sirius calls. “Are you coming back tomorrow?”

“Maybe. It’s none of your business,” Regulus snaps as they walk out of earshot.

They’re striding down the pavement, no shuffling feet and no delay of time, as Regulus huffs.

“Wait,” Barty can’t help himself from asking. “We are going back tomorrow, right?”

Apart from the Sirius interlude, he had a good time with Regulus. And he figures if Sirius hadn’t ambushed them, then he and Regulus would be taking their sweet time walking home. Time that Barty craved more than anything.

“Yeah,” Regulus nods shortly. “I shouldn’t have talked to him. I should’ve just ignored him.”

“Well, he did make it kind of difficult to do that,” Barty reasons as Regulus fumes.

“Fuck, and then stupid fucking James Potter trying to be so–”

“Annoying,” Barty says at the time Regulus says charming.

He tries to ignore the funny thing his heart does in his chest as they both fall into stunned silence.

“Well,” Barty breathes out. “Not what I was going to say.”

“No, I just mean– you heard him,” Regulus says quickly, taking on a crude imitation of James’ voice. “I’m James. I wear tight pants and steal people’s brothers from them for fun.”

Barty snorts. “Yeah, what a dick.”

Regulus nods and repeats after him. “A dick.”

But it doesn’t sound like Regulus really means it. No one can be both charming and a dick. It doesn’t work like that.

Barty walks Regulus all the way to his house, doing his best to skirt the home with the broken window.

Regulus smiles at him softly. “It was fun.”

He admits it like a secret, like it reluctantly has to be true.

Barty nods in agreement, fighting off the urge to punch Regulus again. “Same time tomorrow, baseball boy?”

Regulus nods, his hand brushing against Barty’s slightly before he turns to head inside through the propped-open window on the bottom floor.

Barty stands on the street corner, just him and chirping crickets as he waits for Regulus to flick his bedroom lights on and off to show he’s made it. Once he does, Barty heads towards his house, trying to ignore the parts of his hand that Regulus has touched crackling to life.

[maaarshieee]

Okay so: How about giving Wanderer, Pantalone, Dottore and Alhaitham flowers 👀

Pick some flowers for them. What's their reaction? Put them in their hair too. Make them a flower crown!

⎯⎯ ୨ Flowers For You! (HCs) ୧ ⎯⎯

ੈ♡˳ Alhaitham, Dottore, Pantalone & Wanderer x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

THEY'RE INFESTING MY MIND RN,, THEY'RE ALL SKRUNKLIES,, ty for the request this is ... so soft... omg,,, FINALLY NEW BANNER FOR WANDERER BC OF THAT BDAY ART HEHEHE,, ok i might've had brain rotted too hard on pantalone esp bc the song "call out my name" came up from my playlist while writing him..... have a good day/night!! <33 oh! noticed were mutuals,, got an emoji for ur mutual tag ?? hehe,,

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: canon typical violence, longer than i anticipated, injuries, made up flowers on wanderer's part

"What are you doing?"

"Decorating!" Was your only reply.

Inside the library that Alhaitham often resides in, with piles of books on his table, legs crossed as he read peacefully, you stood behind him, hands raking through his silky hair.

A while ago, you entered the library with a bright smile on your face, a bunch of flowers gathered in your arms. Alhaitham was pleased with your sudden visit, even if his outward appearance was of annoyance, choosing to 'ignore' your existence instead.

Huffing humorously at his attitude, you greeted him cheerfully, giving him a quick peck on the cheek (where he subtly leaned his body to the side to chase your lips for a longer kiss) before placing down the flowers you'd freshly picked from the forest during your forest ranger patrols.

You often brought him flowers after finishing your patrols, always dropping them wherever he was so he'd usually be walking home with a bouquet in his hands. He didn't particularly mind, in fact, he absolutely cherished them, especially when you always put so much thought and effort into them.

Each day you bring a new bouquet, they'd be bundled in different shades of green crepe paper, ribbons, and various designs you could think of, and you do it all by yourself. Even so far refusing opinions from others, pouring all your creativity and adoration for him into each bouquet. You even pick a diverse variation of flowers that would mix and match, then you would list off the meanings of each flower, its anatomy and the role plays in the ecosystem, basically info dumping him.

And each time, Alhaitham would close his book, leaving a bookmark on the page he was reading, and turn his head to you, listening to every word you say and even engaging in a deep conversation with you about biology. In each conversation, each discussion, he learns something new about plants, and he's able to bask in your loving presence, watching your hands fluidly move with your words, noticing the way the corners of your eyes crinkle from the big grin on your face. It's always the tiniest details that warm Alhaitham's heart.

But today was a little different, he supposes. As soon as you got close to where he sat, he took note that you hadn't brought him a bouquet this time, which earned you a raised brow from him. All you responded with was a small mischievous smirk on your lips as you put down the flowers you had gathered that day onto a chair next to him and got behind his back.

Alhaitham hadn't expected you to visit him that day since he had told you he'd be pretty busy, that's why he had a lot more books on his table than usual. And yet here you are, with a plan brewing inside your pretty little head that Alhaitham would just have to let himself fall victim to. It was distracting, sure, but it's you.

So he didn't tell you off and instead allowed you to bury your fingers into his hair, tenderly massaging his scalp and running your hands through his fluffy hair, softly humming a tune near his ear. Soon, you began to put flowers into his hair, playing with his hair and silently giggling behind him.

All the while Alhaitham immersed himself in the books he read, not minding your pestering one bit. As long as you didn't completely distract him from reading, he would let this (and many others things) slide.

From there, you compared Alhaitham to a cat, holding back a snort at the comparison. Whenever you pulled your hands away from his head, he would chase your touch subconsciously, yearning for more. When you still your hands in his hair, he would turn his head to look at you questioningly, an unimpressed glint in his eyes.

And while Alhaitham hasn't spoken a single word after the question he had asked a few moments ago, you could tell that he was enjoying this more than he could let on. His tense muscles had relaxed, leaning back on his chair and, from time to time, you'd catch his eyes flutter close before he'd blink to pull himself out of his sleepiness, he even had a small tugging at the corners of his lips.

He didn't make a move to take out the flowers you had put into his hair once he got up from his seat, returning the books from their respective shelves. Internally chuckling at the image of the blank-faced scribe walking around with flowers littered in his hair, you decided to play nice and reached up to his hair to remove them.

Only for your hands to be swatted away by Alhaitham and receive a halfhearted glare from your dearest lover.

It was quite endearing that Alhaitham did not give a care to anyone who saw him with a head full of flowers, and hair a little messy from all your playing and rubbing, but he ignored their stares, his eyes only focused on you as you walked side by side back to your shared home.

"Hey, Dottie," Hearing your voice from the doorway of his personal office, Dottore paid you no mind and continued to write on his whiteboard with a few other segments behind him. A few segments gave you a brief glance, before returning to the tasks they were assigned with. "Hey Dot, Dottie, Dotdot," You continued annoyingly, listing away all the nicknames you could think of at the top of your head, getting more absurd when you're slowly running out of ideas.

With a sigh, finally popped back the cap of his marker and turned to look at you, only to see you holding a bunch of baskets in your hands and... 2 of his segments holding similar baskets but with flower crowns on their heads. Truly, what a sight to see. You hailed all the way from a couple nations you had to stop by for your mission only to come back and immediately cause some shenanigans inside his laboratory.

Dottore couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips once again as he started walking toward you, eyeing the flower baskets the 3 of you held that were filled to the brim with various flora he was quite familiar with. Letting you put down the baskets on a table, he turned his head to the 2 segments trailing behind your back with a scowl on his face. "You may leave," He orders, before adding. "And take those off."

To his surprise, they hesitated to follow his order, hands froze in midair as if they were contemplating whether to obey or not. Now that greatly irked the Doctor, seeing that 2 of his creations had the gall to not obey right away in front of him, only to be calmed down by you by putting a hand on his shoulder. "Oh c'mon, leave them be. They're just flower crowns, let them have it." You reasoned, gesturing to the 2 segments to move along while Dottore had his attention on you.

With a smirk taking over your features, your hands settled on your hips when you jerked your head in the direction of the baskets you had brought proudly. "Besides, I got you a lot more." Dottore narrowed his eyes at you, dismissing the other segments present inside his office more, taking a few steps closer to you, arms crossed. "What exactly are these?"

You passed a basket to him and he took it, observing the contents of it before widening his eyes slightly, hands now caressing the leaves and petals of the flora you've brought to him. "My recent mission had me running around Teyvat for a bit, so I grabbed everything I could." You explained, eyeing one corner of his office. It had pictures of flora he needed for his experiments, a definitive list of everything he wanted that are plant-based to set a project onward and help with his research. "Be it mythical, illegal, rarest of the rare, or the most expensive, nothing escaped me."

A big, maniacal grin soon blossomed on his face as he further examined the multiple baskets, small giggles emitting from him here and there. Satisfied at his reaction, you proudly crossed your arms and your smirk grew. "My my, whatever is the reason you've become so generous?"

With a mere shrug, you walked behind him, laying your chin on his shoulder as you watched him eagerly sort through the flora you'd given him. "Just wanted to further our research, is all," At that, his movements paused and his grin faltered, head turning to look at you. You blinked at him, before realizing what you'd just said.

"Well, also because I wanted to spoil my dearest partner." You tried to save yourself, though it was the actual truth. Dottore seemed to think your words over, before menacingly smiling at you. "Oh, so they get one of those and not me?" Was he serious? You stared at him incredulously. Well, you guess you couldn't blame him. You mistakenly had told him the gift you had prepared for him was simply for your experiments, not for him.

But you couldn't help it. You let out a small, breathless chuckle before digging your hands inside one of the baskets that held flora that isn't much required for your experiments and began to work for your hands. Dottore watched you while you twisted the stems of each flora, organizing the petals and making them look as pretty as you could, tying them up neatly.

Dottore had pursed his lips as he observed, his expression growing sour when he peeked outside of his office to see a majority of the segments outside had flower crowns on their heads. They all seemed to be containing the joy they had upon receiving a flower crown, while the unlucky ones that doesn't have any were sulking and glaring at the luckier segments.

It seemed to upset Dottore, even more, to see he's one of the unlucky ones, unintentionally beginning to sulk like the rest of them. You had to hold back your laughter when you saw a big frown on his face, eyeing angrily at his segments but you opted to explain yourself to avoid his wrath.

"I thought you'd be satisfied enough with all the stuff I got you, so I didn't make you a flower crown." You said, earning Dottore's attention once more as you kept adding the prettiest flowers you could get your hands on, "I'd imagine you wouldn't want others to see you with such things on you so..." Finalizing the flower crown you made just for him, you turned to face him once more, a sheepish smile on your lips.

"But I suppose I was wrong, making my lover feel jealous." Dottore scowled at your words, opening his mouth to deny it but you just shot him an amused look, presenting him with the flower crown. Compared to the ones you've made for the segments, you put a lot of thought into the flower crown you made for him. It wasn't as messy, considering that you were frequently on the run during your mission whilst you made them.

"I'm sorry my love... Is this enough to earn your forgiveness?" Gently placing the flower crown on his head, pulling back a strand of his hair behind his ear. You then gave him your best puppy eyes on him, knowing full well that it wouldn't work on him. Despite this face, you still liked doing it, putting your hands on his chest.

Dottore didn't speak, only cupping your cheek with his gloved hand. He didn't like the fact that he has a flower crown on his head, but he suppose that he could tolerate it just for you since you made it for him after all. Since it was an act of seeking forgiveness.

How thoughtful of his lover. To bring him so many important materials for his research and make him a flower crown. And you easily got the message that he had forgiven you when he pressed a small, fleeting kiss on your forehead.

The Regrator has it all. He is rich, very rich, so of course, he does. So you can't help but feel a tad insecure whenever you think about giving him something.

You? A mere adventurer who does commissions for a living and even often helps the people around you for free?

How do flowers you've picked while you were doing commissions in a different region compete with the literal huge gardens Pantalone has at the mansions he has all over Teyvat? Every time he brings you to one of his 'vacation homes', you always find yourself lost in the beautiful paradise of flora that he owns.

It's the thought that counts, you argue with yourself. While it's true, it doesn't stop you from hesitating whether to even give the bouquet you've prepared for your dearest lover. Maybe you shouldn't have if you were being honest. Pantalone, in your eyes, was the embodiment of elegance.

He was gorgeous; the smile that's always etched on his lips makes your palms sweat, especially when they're always so genuine whenever they're directed at you. Skin fair, face as refined as smoothed jade. His expression was a balanced mix of sharp frostiness and a polite gleam of warmth, both authoritative and welcoming.

Immaculate and pristine clothing could only be worn, from his coat, gloves, and even the material of his glasses; all were top quality and handmade by professionals amongst professionals. With each calculated step, his entire being is the epitome of wealth.

So who were you to sully the beauty he has with simple flowers that you've handpicked from the forests you've roamed in? Sure, you've cleaned them as much as you could, but giving him flowers that weren't grown in quality gardens- you'd be ruining his image!

Clutching the DIY bouquet you've organized the flowers in, you almost sank to your knees as you continued to mull over your decisions, sulking right in front of Pantalone's office door. It has been 20 minutes since you arrived and the guards stationed near his office have been pitifully glancing at your predicament.

Just as you were about to take a step back and throw the bouquet you'd made, deciding to just do more commissions and earn more mora (and not use the mora he kept giving you) to buy him something more presentable and pleasing to the eye, Pantalone opened the door.

You froze in your spot, but the grip on the bouquet you held tightened to the point it would've been broken. Pantalone was shocked to see you just standing motionlessly at his door, not expecting you to have you back so soon.

Immediately, Pantalone's expression softened and his smile widened. His shoulders relaxed and his body felt lighter just at the mere sight of you, and the feeling of laughter bubbling up his chest when he saw your stupefied face.

You fought the urge to bolt or throw the flowers in your hands to an unsuspecting guard and pretend as if nothing had happened. You stood your ground, no matter how hard your heart was beating against your ribcage when his eyes traveled down, catching sight of the bouquet.

Pantalone's face evidently brightened at the sight of it, the corners of his lips curving upwards. "For me?" He says in a fond tone as his hands reached for the bouquet, but you instinctively flinch back, surprising Pantalone. You quickly stuttered out; "I-I... yeah, yeah it is..." You learned your throat, averting your eyes from him and shamefully bowing down your head.

"But, well, you shouldn't take it. I just picked them in the forest when I was back in Sumeru because when I saw how pretty the flowers were, I thought about you... They're not high quality, so I can just buy you better ones—" You didn't even realize you'd begun rambling, so you were cut off abruptly when Pantalone took the bouquet from your arms anyways, caressing the petals with his gloved hands, his smile never leaving his handsome face.

Then, he gently grabbed your chin and lifted it up with his index finger and his thumb so you'd look at him eye to eye. Before you could say something, he captured your lips against his, tilting your head slightly to the side to deepen the kiss.

Heat exploded on your face, eyes widening at the sudden kiss but you indulge yourself in it nonetheless, kissing back fervently and clutching his coat shakily. You let out a small noise when Pantalone licked your bottom lip, satisfied at the delectable sight of your red face, before pulling away a little.

"I absolutely love them, my dear." He muttered against your skin, taking a step closer to you. "I'm delighted that even when you're out on your travels, you still think of me, so I will cherish these flowers you've given me, for they remind me of your love for me."

Those words sent chills up your spine, and you couldn't suppress the smile forming on your lips and the sigh of relief that escaped through your nose.

"Now, why don't you tell me more about these flowers?"

As a seasoned adventurer, you've equipped yourself with various knowledge of anything that could help you in your survival in the outside world. Perking up at his request, you eagerly nodded at that as the words spilled from your mouth whilst Pantalone led you inside his office, shutting the door close.

And thus the beginning of you always bringing him a fresh bouquet of flowers every time you come back from your commissions, then recounting your wide knowledge of flora to your lover.

And every time, Pantalone would listen intently, learning how to care for the flowers as per your instruction if it meant he could listen to your voice more with such enthusiasm, quell your feelings of inferiority in your relationship, and ignore his piling paperwork to spend more of his time with you.

The Wanderer never really understood the sentiment of giving flowers to your lover. So what if they gave you flora? They're just plants that look pretty and usually smelled good. It was a romantic gesture, others would say. It shows the thoughtfulness you had for your lover, it's why you'd gift them flowers! But would it still be counted as very thoughtful if it's such a common thing lovers do to one another?

He doesn't truly get it, so he had absolutely no idea how to react when you came back to the camp you set up for the night, a wild grin on your face with a bunch of cuts and bruises on your body, your hair one big mess and your clothes were torn and dirty, though you cradled a bunch of flowers in your arms protectively. Well, besides being concerned for your entire being and getting absolutely mad at your lacking self-preservation.

"Just what were you thinking, picking flowers near a Hilichurl Camp without your weapon!? Are you trying to get yourself killed!?" He scolded you whilst he cleaned your wounds, intentionally adding pressure enough to make you wince and hiss in pain to both stops the blow flowing out and punish you for your foolishness, deathly glaring at you.

But you merely had a sheepish smile on your lips as you watched your lover fuss over your wellbeing, wrapping you in bandages and scolding you like a mother whose child had run off to do whatever. To be fair, he had warned about the Hilichurl camp near yours, and that you both agreed to leave it be for now since it was late at night already, but when he told you to grab more firewood, you still went to the Hiluchurl camp unarmed all because some 'pretty flowers' caught your eyes.

Offering you a fresh set of clothing, he let you get dressed whilst he went back to cooking, eyeing the bundle of flowers you left near him. Just why did you get through all that trouble for a bunch of flowers? You can buy flowers at multiple flower shops all over Teyvat! He doesn't understand at all, grumpily huffing under his breath.

You told him that those flowers were for him, that it was worth the trouble. It took all of his willpower to not smack you with the wooden ladle he had in his hand, only gritting his teeth and glaring at you. But for some reason, you were extremely unbothered by your injuries, only apologizing to your partner for worrying him. You kept caressing the flowers with a big grin on your face, features softening as you admired them.

So, he had to ask. "Is there any other reason why you had to get these for me?" He crossed his arms, eyeing you warily. You never ceased to caress the damp petals of the flowers, only scooping them back in your arms and giving them to him.

"They remind me of you." At your answer, he raised a brow. How does a bunch of flowers remind you of me? "I read in a book once that these rare flowers symbolize new beginnings, a fresh new start, and hope." You started, sitting close to him and leaning your body against his, staring up at the night sky. "They grow in an unhealthy environment and start off like wilting little buds of flowers, but the more it grows, the more it blossoms into a beautiful flower."

Slowly, his eyes trailed down to the flowers in his arms, piecing them together bit by bit in his mind. He held the flowers closer to him as he continued to listen to your words. "In the midst of burnt forests, these flowers usually grow at the heart of the disaster, sprouting beauty in hapless surroundings." You finish with a sparkle in your eyes, now gazing at him fondly.

Trying to hide his expression with his hat, he merely responded with; "Hope and new beginnings truly fit this flower then." Though his voice was steady, the same couldn't be said the same with his body, which lightly trembled. Your hand found itself in his, lacing your fingers together. You were relieved that he didn't pull away from your hold, only squeezing your hand as he hugged the meaningful flowers in his arms.

These flowers greatly reminded you of him. Not only because of its appearance, but also what it symbolizes. You admired him as if he was the flowers that you picked near that Hilichurl camp, marveling at the beauty of his new life, the hope in his eyes, and his will to finally live without the strings that were attached to him.

The Wanderer may never get why other couples would give each other flowers; may never understand what's so sentimental about it, but he now knows why you chose to give him those flowers... And it meant quite a lot to him.

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[whisperingn1ghts]

DOING THIS WITH MOONCHASER CAUSE I LOVE THEM 😖💕

[randomminty]

Cynthia is great and I hope you will consider drawing her BW (Best Wishes) outfit too!

Blue…

[waketoearth]

HAPPY JAY DAY 2024 !!!

[strawberry-hachi]

Kenma x GN! Reader x Kuroo

Kenma and Kuroo will always hold a special place in your heart.

The first time you'd met them was separately. You were the only other kid in the neighborhood and Kenma's mom had wanted him to make friends since he stayed in the house all day.

"Hello!"

He was a quiet boy with long, black hair that reached his shoulders. He responded with a small, "Hi.." that he had to repeat because you couldn't hear him. He was small, if not a bit scrawny, but when you came over next time with a Gameboy, the way his face lit up gave promise that he was more than that.

Kuroo Tetsuro, on the other hand, you had met much later. He had moved to Tokyo probably a month or two after you met the boy named Kenma and he was introduced to Kenma first.

Kenma, a bit more socialized, hung around the boy and talked with him while they played games. However, as you recall this memory now, Kuroo was quite the non-verbal kid until school hit.

It's a fond memory, when you first met him. You had come over to Kenma's house on your own accord under the hot summer sun and Kenma's mom, as kind as she was, let you in without a doubt in her mind.

So, when you went upstairs to say hi to Kenma, you were surprised to see another boy around the same age with hair that spiked in all directions as though he went straight here from bed.

And you two stared at each other for a long while until you, as excitable as you were, bounced to him and introduced yourself.

Kenma had introduced him as Kuroo Tetsuro and your young mind, thinking it'd be funny, called him Shiro as a play on his name.

Kenma freaked out at Kuroo's lack of response but after a moment or two, he laughed.

It was the first time either of you had heard his voice.

You three were inseparable after that. Though you quite often had to drag them both out of the house because one of them didn't like the sun and the other was scared of people.

This certain memory had been one of those times. You had barged into Kenma's house yet again to drag him outside.

With that you two had went to Kuroo's house and you had to ask, very kindly, for Kuroo by his father who was absolutely ecstatic that his son had friends.

The moment Kuroo saw you, he had sprinted upstairs and it wasn't until he saw Kenma that he went along with your devious plans.

Today was a special day you see. Today was the day you build a fort for the three of you.

Of course, when you had brought up the idea to Kenma at first, he retorted saying his room was just fine for the three of you.

You, as young as you were, had bounced back saying that a secret hideout would be cool and Kenma, as young as he was, agreed before saying that you would do all the work cause it was your idea.

And so, here you were, out in the woods, dragging them to the spot you had found for your secret hideout.

You had worn high yellow rain boots that day alongside a sunhat much too big for you because it was your guardian's. It kept falling down on your face when you were travelling and even caused you to misstep and tumble into a river. Although shallow, you got soaked and Kuroo, upon seeing this, somehow convinced himself it was the perfect time to run.

With this, you were both soaked because you grabbed his shirt to try and stop him and just pulled him in. Kenma laughed so hard he almost fell over as well.

With that out of the way however, you were getting close to your destination.

The place in question was shaded by trees high enough that you couldn't see where they stopped or began. Even as you head back to the hideout every so often you stare in amazement as you can't seem to spot where it stops.

The cicadas that day were buzzing and you remember because of how hot it was and Kenma complaining about the noise as Kuroo quietly followed along, holding onto Kenma.

You had brought a long stick to act as your walking stick and so every so often, when Kenma got on your nerves, you'd poke him with it before continuing onwards.

Kenma, although he has gotten quieter, was always quite the complainer and it seemed to double whenever it was just you three and so quite often did you have to turn around and beat him with the stick whenever he complained about the heat or gravity.

The place itself was quite boring, with a barren and flat grass bottom and two trees flanking one another, but what made it really special was the ground that rose up two times higher than you that both of the trees were up against that jutted out at the top to create a little roof. It was a mixture of rock, mineral and dirt and you knew that geologically it was formed for some reason to do with water, but the way it jutted out to create a roof over your head while it was raining last week was the confirmation you needed that this was destiny. Much later you learned it is what is called a terrace in nature

Anyways, it was what made you want a hideout.

And with Kuroo and Kenma's free labor of bringing the various tools and supplies to make the hideout, you were set.

What you had done was secure two giant tarps onto the ground above by pinning them, and you admit it was hard to get up there until you began climbing by using the tree's roots that jutted out through the dirt, and then let it drape down onto the trees to create a roof and then you had begun to collect foliage, leaves, branches, anything, to cover the tarp as well as slowly build the walls. The entire time Kenma and Kuroo stayed inside the base as you worked. You found it funny and called them out on it, but Kenma simply said that you agreed to it and so you shut up.

At some point while you were collecting more foliage, it had begun to rain, and it was bad. Your clothes were completely soaked when you had gotten back, but while Kenma looked surprised and Kuroo looked horrified, they were completely dry. You felt proud that your hard work had protected your friends and had said so at the time, but they didn't say anything back and so you simply got back to work reinforcing the hideout.

It was thundering and the branches were swaying with the wind and so, upon realizing that there was nothing else you could do until the storm let up, you joined them as you crawled through the little opening you made with the foliage.

It was actually quite okay inside and pretty well insulated upon inspection and so you simply took to work inside as you used the little shovel Kenma brought and the bucket Kuroo dug out to keep the walls insulated. Every so often you would put the dirt filled bucket outside in the rain and take it back inside when it was utterly soaked and muddy so that you could use it to build up the walls.

Kenma simply watched you but at some point Kuroo began helping as you taught him how to build up the wall with the mud.

He nodded vigorously as he, quite clumsily, tried to help. You giggled during that particular moment and Kenma had called you creepy, but you couldn't help it because this was the first time Kuroo had initiated a conversation (or as much of a conversation he could muster) with you.

At some point you began sneezing and feeling faint and so Kenma, who was freaking out at this, thought it best to huddle as close as he could to you. Kuroo, who had a little more brain on the situation, had deduced that you were sick and you he attempted to wrap around you just like Kenma and you three became a big sick sandwich hug.

By the time the storm let up, the sun was going down and both you and Kuroo had mud stained hands and you specifically had soaked through clothes and a nasty fever. Kenma, in all his wise wisdom, had told you to quit it and that we can come back tomorrow and so, with a tearful goodbye to your seconda home, you all ventured off to the scolding of a lifetime.

But that didn't deter you as you dragged Kenma there the next day. Kuroo specifically waking up early so he could join you guys.

The mud has dried nicely and now the house had walls and a bit more space since you and Kuroo dug out part of the cliff.

Despite still being sick, you three stayed there for hours as you watched the two play volleyball while staying in the safety of the fortress you had built.

Every so often you would go fetch the ball when it wandered too far since you knew the forest the best out of you three, and Kenma, despite being tired and worn out, had the brains to call you some forest beast because of your affinity.

Kuroo had to break up your fight before you decided to infect Kenma with your cold.

At the end of the day, you, Kuroo and Kenma had all huddled up inside the cave and shared stories of before you came to Tokyo.

Kenma had always lived in Tokyo but he had one story of when he went outside of it to the country side. He expected it to be quiet but it really wasn't, and the people were much too friendly for his tastes. He was upset that everybody knew everyone and didn't like being known. You laughed as he recalled the embarrassing memories of growling at a kid for trying to speak with him and biting another for hugging him.

Kuroo, meanwhile, had lived in a different place of Japan all of his life until this point and so he told story after story after Kenma finished. Such as one where he caught a snake, or another where he was able to sneak into a grocery store and steal some snacks for his volleyball friends. It was the most talkative you two had seen him and so you both listened with smiles, yours noticeably larger.

At the end of it he simply thanked both of you for being his friends as Kenma made a gagging noise and you snorted at his choice of words. He obviously backtracked as he realized how heartfelt the words sounded, but he didn't deny them. He never did.

With you as the last one, you simply recalled before your family moved to Japan all those years ago. You recall the hot summer months and a mother tongue barely familiar to you now. At the end of it all you smile and make fun of both of them for their boring stories.

Both Kenma and Kuroo jump for you as it turns to a battle inside the house you built for you three. Kenma had jumped first as he went to shake you as he attempted to say how boring your story was. Kuroo, meanwhile, joined in for the laughs as he tried to go after you and then proceeded to tackle Kenma to the ground, successfully getting all three of you tangled by your awkward limbs.

The years passed quickly after that. Each year more blurrier than the last. As they grew, so did you. You were part of different middle schools because of your guardian's insistence on academics; so you only saw them when they would come over to hang out.

Such as when Kuroo, taller now and much more talkative, had dragged you out to your secret hideout you made all those years ago to study. You three seldom visited because of your conflicting schedules, but you knew that Kenma and Kuroo must have visited often because of the regular footprints in the dirt and the new additions inside the little cave such as chairs and tables and little desks to put things on. You often travelled there alone simply to make upgrades on it, and at one point you had spent an entire day making a volleyball court outside of it a little ways away in another open space and the very next day you had your window broken into by Kuroo who was carrying Kenma by the torso and who was all but ecstatic that you had made it.

He was so happy you had made it and even said that he wouldn't ever need a gym or house if you could just make it; which made you laugh. The day had then consisted of the two staying inside your room as you played games, watched volleyball games on Kuroo's phone and got absolutely destroyed by Kenma on your PSP.

As highschool was slowly arising, Kenma and Kuroo, alongside you, had begun to make big changes.

Kuroo, for one had gotten a major growth spurt, but he also got more muscular, somehow even more charismatic, if not charming, and slowly you had wondered if he was the same nonverbal boy that you had met all those years ago.

It's not like it was any different with Kenma either. Once he was shorter than you, but now you find yourself having to compete to see who is taller. Now, you realize how observant he is; something you didn't care for before. Or how devious, or downright malicious, he can get.

When you were younger you thought his complaining was annoying, if not his entire character, but now you realize it is something he seldom does, even more so without any venom behind. It made your heart squeeze at the thought that he cared enough to not regard other people's judgement for you and Kuroo.

You had begun to wonder if these were the same boys you grew up with at times. It was as though they were leaving you behind.

And yet, they were still the same. Kuroo still would throw rocks at your window to get your attention so that he could hangout in your room. Kenma still arrived at your house in the middle of the night to escape Kuroo; giving you one hell of a scare.

They were still the boys you loved.

You just weren't sure what kind of love anymore. If it was familial and platonic or something different.

Your years at Nekoma, as you entered highschool, were chaotic.

Letting Kuroo and Kenma know you were finally going to be in the same school as them had them quite literally screaming and it took all you had to not join them.

Things had changed, you weren't the same, over excitable kid anymore. You were more mature, more composed now.

But you wouldn't say that you didn't enjoy getting to be like that again.

The first day you had arrived at Nekoma, Kuroo had quite literally waltzed into your classroom, ignored the teacher who had said he would get detention if he didn't leave, sat on your desk, and demanded that you become the manager for the boy's volleyball or that he would never leave your house again.

You had gawked at him as he was dragged out by two other third years. Their names you later learn being Kai and Yaku.

It didn't get better though as during lunch, Kenma had walked right up to you and dragged you to the gymnasium to eat with him and the other volleyball players. Kuroo was grinning the entire time and you didn't appreciate being asked by one of their first years if you were dating one of them or not.

You do admit that Kuroo and Kenma both freezing at the question before absolutely losing it was hilarious and you laughed and made fun of both of them, even if you didn't quite understand why they had acted like that.

At the end of the day though, you had practically signed your death certificate as the volleyball coach, Coach Nekomata, patted you on the back and thanked you for always being there for Kuroo and Kenma who couldn't stop talking about you during practice.

Kuroo quite literally face planted when he overheard it and Kenma, who was informed of what Coach Nekomata said, had proceeded to begin listing out various ways he could screw over the team.

You, meanwhile, mentally errored at the fact that they talked about you just like you did with them. If they even attempted to talk to your friends from middle school, they would know that they were all you talked about to the point that, "Hopeless" became your nickname for how hopelessly in love you were.

You did not make fun of them over that fact on the way home and they simply ignored it happened all together as Kenma laid across your lap to play games and Kuroo leaned his head against yours as he watched volleyball matches with you on your phone.

So much had changed, but also not. It was confusing to navigate at times, but you managed.

Even if your brain would stop functioning for a moment when Kuroo decided to carry you all the way to the gymnasium because you sprained your ankle. Or when Kenma had made friends with a particularly bright boy named Hinata who gushed about you being the lover Kenma couldn't shut up about.

Both instances, the two were called out by either Coach Nekomata or a fellow teammate, and in either instance they flushed a cherry red, Kenma's more subtle, before raining havoc against the person in question.

At times you wondered if you were being played with emotionally, or if Kenma and Kuroo had finally reached that stage where they couldn't care less about screwing anybody over emotionally.

But whenever you started getting these thoughts, you would escape through your window and run back to the hideout where all of this started. Where promises were made and kept like battle scars. You would probably kill for one of them if they truly asked it of you.

It was a time like this, a few weeks before nationals, where you had holed yourself up in your little hobbit hole.

It had gotten smaller, and you bigger, and so you had to crawl to get through the entrance and you only really fit if you huddled up into some cocoon and pressed your chin to your knees.

Memories carve the muddy walls with finger prints and claw marks, but besides that the room is barren. Once there was furniture, now there is nothing but memories.

You had stayed there for who knows how long as you listened to the sharp blowing of wind and breathed in the fresh scent of incoming rain. The scent wasn't nearly as noticeable in the heart of Tokyo, and if anything the smell of gasoline and cigarettes pervaded every area of the city.

It takes a while to get used to and once you had brought it up to Kenma who had responded that he didn't smell anything, but a few days later he carried cologne around with him everywhere.

Kuroo, bless him, had never even thought about the scent until it was brought up in conversation but recalled when he first moved that he hated going outside because of it. It made you feel bad but he reassured you that the forests around the area didn't have the same scent.

You hug yourself a little tighter as the wind seems to get through the walls of your enclosure. You reminisce too much, but you cannot help it. It feels like your friends have been replaced with strangers and you are being left behind. That perhaps, just maybe, that you aren't catching up fast enough.

It was only a few months ago that Kenma met Hinata Shoyo, but since then he had completely transformed into the boy you have rarely seen since that first day in the forest.

A boy confident in himself and his abilities and someone utterly terrifying given the opportunity. You grinned at him as he told you his plans during nationals and all he did was return it. No words needed to be traded.

However, besides that, they were practically strangers. You couldn't carry a conversation like you used to with them and sometimes it felt as though one day you would just stop talking completely after all of this. That, once you all graduated, they would just be strangers. A stranger, but you knew their favorite colors, that they liked plaid, not polka dots, that when they smiled, one had dimples and the other had fangs, that one could tan enormously easily and the other only got sunburnt, or that when they went to get food Kuroo would take anything with protein and Kenma had to be physically dragged away from the candy aisle. Sometimes, you would wake up in cold sweat from those dreams. Dreams of you walking past them, and them not recognizing you and you barely recognizing them. It feels terrifying to know someone, but still be too far away from them.

Why didn't Yaku or Kai have this problem with Kuroo? They never showed any hesitation when speaking with Kuroo, and yet every time they attempted to include you in their special trio it always felt like you were the odd one out. You saw that Kai could sense it and so often you would excuse yourself from the conversations.

Or with Kenma and Fukunaga and Yamamoto. Yamamoto, while he does tend to scare you, does try and include you on their group activities as you are in the same year, yet you can barely start a conversation with Fukunaga and everything with Kenma is like a dead end. He stares right through you as though you are one of his complex puzzles and sometimes, just sometimes, you wonder if maybe that is all you are to him.

Blinking out of those memories you shuffle yourself further into your home as you finally hear rain being to pour. It's a few drops at first, but quickly it's pouring.

It was hard to call this a home, when only you could really visit it. You didn't see Kuroo's or Kenma's tracks here anymore and the volleyball court you made, although small, was barely ever touched unless you yourself made edits. It was like a house with the lights on, but no one was home. You felt like the nervous dog waiting for the owners that would never return.

You attempt to stand up, realizing the hole you are spiraling into, but quickly bump your head as you duck and check if everything is all right. You don't feel any blood and you made sure not to use rocks to insulate the roof.

You let out a breathy laugh before attempting to go outside. The attempt, although successful, leaves you drenched as you begin to walk through the forest back home.

You have always been good at navigating the natural world. You couldn't handle a GPS for the life of you but if dropped in the middle of nowhere, you would somehow stay alive. Kenma had mentioned once how this was the perfect skill set for a manager, and you weren't quite sure how to respond other than laugh.

However, the further you get from the hideout, the more you doubt your skills. The rain, as heavy as it is, weighs you down like an extra weight and brings a fog you had not previously seen in the forest.

You can barely see much ahead of you and with little else except fear and adrenaline in you, you try and tread as carefully as possible.

Because of the rain, what were once easy slopes to navigate become muddy hills that threaten your own life. More than once do you get a scare as you begin to slide downwards, unable to stop yourself.

In a spout of doubt, you crouch down and huddle in on yourself as you think that maybe, just maybe, you should have waited instead of trying to run away from your feelings and thoughts. That maybe you should get to the bottom of what is going on.

You hear a voice in the distance, the voice unrecognizable and their words garbled amongst the rain, but it's enough to make you continue.

You slide down some muddy rocks as the voice gets closer and you begin to make out the tone. You remember when he was squeaky the first time he laughed but his voice dropped around the last year of middle school.

You are able to make out his figure in all the fog and rain as you get closer to his voice, his noticeable hunched back as he screams your name.

Finally a few feet away, you whistle at him as his head snaps to your direction. You didn't expect it to be so full of worry.

"Need something, Tetsuro?"

His face morphs into one of his rare grimaces as he stomps (though he looks more like he is slipping around then anything else) to you, grabs your shoulder and begins dragging you opposite of where you came.

"I know you don't want to talk for whatever reason but I can't read your mind, Tetsuro," He always gets an odd look on his face whenever you say his name, and you haven't been able to ever really decipher it. It was around the time you joined Nekoma that he began reacting like this, similarly with Kenma whenever you called him by his name as he seemed to freeze up a little before striking you with eyes that fell like they were cutting through you.

Sometimes you were unsure if they ever even liked you to begin with, but Kuroo's father had freaked out when you told him this and said that he couldn't shut up about you before Kuroo dragged you away.

He slows down from his military march as he turns to you, his face a bit more somber, but still frowning, "I was worried when I called and you didn't pick up is all."

Were you guys still doing that? Back before you joined Nekoma you would all keep in contact by the family phone you had downstairs so you could all talk at the same time on the phone, but it had stopped after you joined Nekoma.

"I didn't realize we were still doing that, my bad," You give him a wry smile as he lets out an awkward laugh before continuing ahead.

You two end in an awkward silence as you continue walking and you can't help but feel like he has something to say but can't say it. You wonder if this is the day where he has decided to stop being your friend. You expected it but weren't prepared for it being so early.

You come to a stop as Kuroo lurches forward before turning to you with a blank expression and wide eyes.

"You're going the wrong way."

"Am not."

"Are too."

You raise an eyebrow as his somber expression seems to brighten, "You were always better at this stuff than I was."

"That's because I used to eat dirt."

"We ate dirt together?"

You snort as he gives a grin towards you before continuing onwards.

"Though seriously, this isn't in the direction of your house or mine, the trees in this area are more sparse," You point out as the rain continues to pelt on both of you.

"That's because we are going to Kenma's."

You raise an eyebrow at this as you finally see the boy in question's house a bit of ways away.

"Why?"

His cheerful mood seems to dissipate to a more serious one as your heart hammers in your chest like you are about to receive the death sentence.

You look away from him and continue on, swiping your hand back from his as you make the trek a little ways behind him. You don't dare look at his reaction and you ignore his hands tightening into fists when you do so.

You both are in Kenma's backyard as Kuroo rummages through his pocket and gets out his spare key to unlock the back door. Kuroo, oddly, had a talent at using his father's 3D printer and this was only discovered by you and Kenma when you both were playing games at your house and he had unlocked the door with a 3D printed key because he couldn't wait for you to unlock the door for him.

You always forgot how luxurious his house was, as both of his parents were considerably wealthy while your parents moved to Japan for a better living. The wooden floors were spotless until you both came trudging in knee high with mud, and the soft atmosphere coupled with the luxurious lights that illuminated the darkened house seems to disappear as Kuroo quickly marched into Kenma's kitchen to fish out food.

You yourself relegated to trying to get off as much mud as possible on your pants before inviting yourself in. You could apologize later for getting water on the wooden floors but first you had to find slippers. Upon further inspection they were in the same little room at the front of the house all those years ago. It had been years since you last visited and yet everything was still in the same place it was. You made an effort not to look at Kuroo for too long as he hunched over the microwave as he heated up two meals he found in the freezer.

You hear ruffling upstairs as well as a bit of commotion; as though someone kept falling around and hitting the floor, and you only assumed Kenma figured out you were both here.

However, when he comes downstairs, he is holding a knife as he stares at you two. He quickly puts it down but cusses out Kuroo in the process.

"Did you not tell him?"

Kuroo shrugged, "I assumed he knew I would come here."

"Fuckface," He grimaced at the rooster headed boy as he made a silly, if not stupid face at Kenma that only served to tick him off more.

"Do you know how late it is? What are you doing here?" He set the knife down on the table in front of the kitchen, turning on the lights in the dining room. It was a small, but still fancy, chandelier and when you first saw it Kenma had lamented that it wasn't as big as the one they had in their vacation home. You had slapped his head for that one.

"You say that yet you're awake," Kuroo raises an eyebrow as he opens the microwave and taste tests the food, before grimacing and putting it back in for thirty more seconds.

"We already have established why I stay up late so shut up," He groaned, crossing his arms. His hair was messy, but not to Kuroo's extent. He wore an oversized Misfit's T-shirt with some sweatpants and it was clear that he was playing some game as he still wore his headphones that likely unplugged when he heard the commotion and went to go check. Overall he looked very Kenma.

Kuroo repeats Kenma's words in a mocking tone, high pitched and squealing as Kenma makes a sound that reminds you of when your guardian's car broke down and set itself on fire.

Kenma, finally seeming to realize you are here, widens his eyes. He looks down at himself as he seems to smooth out some permanent wrinkles on his t-shirt as he takes his headphones off and smoothes his hair. He gives you a once over, "You look like someone tried to drag you to hell."

"Thanks," You give him a nod and a thumbs up as you give your own attempt at looking neater. He closes the few feet you had between you as he goes to fixing your drenched hair and you work on wringing out the water still in your clothes. He barely gives a thought as the water gets onto him.

He stops momentarily messing with your hair and you choose to not look at him, fearing the expression on his face.

Kuroo, meanwhile, makes a noise of triumph as he takes one of the microwave meals out of the microwave and sets it on the counter, "Do you want anything Ken?"

"Nah I have food upstairs."

"Of course you do," You laugh as Kuroo makes a snorting noise. Kenma turns to you, betrayal written on his face, "What does that mean?!"

"Whatever you want it to, casanova," Kuroo responds as Kenma gives him a look that could kill, "I could kill you and they would never stop finding your body."

"I think that's enough threats for today," You say, walking away from Kenma as his head snaps to you trailing away to the counter to pick at the microwave meal. It's mac and cheese, "Is this for you, Kuroo?"

"No, the other one I'm cooking is for me."

"He says, as though the microwave is cooking."

"Says the one with a private chef?!" He turns to look at him incredulously.

"He only comes on Mondays and Wednesdays?!" Kenma responds as both you and Kuroo groan.

"Oh I'm the weird one as though you don't constantly go on vacation during the summer."

"It's for my father's work, it's barely a vacation," You roll your eyes, "Shut up, nepo babies."

Kenma's jaw drops as Kuroo smacks his head against one of the cabinets and you almost start laughing as Kuroo drops and lays dead on the floor.

Kenma, ever quick with his expressions, shifts to one of discontent as he stares through you. It was something he had done lately that only added to your stresses. It was as though it was a cat watching a mouse through its enclosure.

"Why did you two really come here? You wouldn't just barge in unannounced for some shelter. Even Kuroo's house is closer."

Kuroo makes a choking noise as you can hear him whispering "It's Tetsuro.." before groaning and getting himself up as he checks on his food.

"Well, uh," He struggles to find words for himself for the first time in years, "I thought it best to explain that when we are all together, y'know?" He said more as a question than a statement.

Kenma takes a second to understand whatever the hell Kuroo is on about, but very quickly his eyes widen and switch swap between you and Kuroo before nodding and going to pull out a chair at the dining room table.

"I thought you wanted to say it, Kuroo?" He raises an eyebrow.

Kuroo shifts his body weight from foot to foot, "I was going to but when they weren't at their house and then I was told they went back to the hideout I kind of got cold feet," He looks anywhere but Kenma.

"Besides, you were always better at words than me."

"That's because I talked with the final boss here," He jabs a finger towards you, "Before I ever interacted with you, idiot."

He laughs, "Fair" He points a fork at Kenma before going back to tend to the microwave.

Did someone die? Is that what this is about? Have they accidentally come in contact with one of your ex's?

You still recall Kuroo getting in trouble because one of your ex's attempted to join practice to get you to quit and he punched him the moment he stepped through the doors. Surprisingly he didn't get kicked off the team because of his importance, but it was Kenma who was close to getting kicked off for whatever reason. He never showed up again though, so you can only thank them.

"Do you want me to just come out and say it?" He says, his gaze finally remaining on you as you feel a sweat fester on the back of your neck.

"Is it bad?"

"Maybe?" He shrugs, much too calm considering Kuroo is so visibly shaking in the kitchen that you can hear the clattering of utensils, "It depends on how you take it."

"Are you finally unfriending me?" You blurt out as you hear Kuroo cuss as something clatters onto the floor and Kenma freezes.

"What?"

"Is that not it?" You ask, sounding more scared than you'd like.

Kenma blinks a few times as he registers what you have said before quickly shaking his head and laughing, "What made you think that?"

"You guys have just been more..." You trailed off trying to find the words to say, "odd? As of late. Like you have some inner joke I'm not a part of."

At this point Kenma is laughing so hard he looks like he's about to fall over in his chair as Kuroo looks so defeated that you wonder if he is a kicked puppy instead of a cat.

"We should've told you sooner then," He finally says as he begins shoveling the microwave meal into his mouth and chewing obnoxiously to Kenma's chagrin.

"Hey we weren't sure how to approach it until the training camp and even then I had to map out how this interaction would go," Kenma rolls his eyes.

"That's because you have to be in control of everything," Kuroo places a hand on his hip with his face full of food.

"Oh don't get me started you piece of shi—"

You clear your throat as Kema immediately hushes down and Kuroo seems to slink back into the kitchen floor and under the counter from where you can see him. Funny enough though you can see his hair sticking out.

"I'll just rip the bandaid off then," Kenma grins. Those malicious grins that promise more pain than anything else, "Me and Kuroo are dating."

Oh.

"That's it?" You breathe a sigh of relief before laughing a little bit, "God that makes a lot more sense."

You begin laughing much harder now as Kenma stares at you like a cat caught in catnip and Kuroo behind cackling.

"I told you it'd be easy!"

"Yeah but that's not the extent of it," Kenma sticks his tongue out in Kuroo's direction as your heart drops again.

"Is this the bad news?" You question.

"Please stop being pessimistic my heart can only take so much," Kuroo groans.

"I mean," Kenma coughs, more nervous this time around, "It could be bad news to you?"

You give him an incredulous look as he smiles, but his hand is very obviously shaking on the table.

"Would you mind joining?"

"what?"

Kenma slams his head down onto the table as Kuroo lets out a fake whine on the kitchen tile that sounds almost like crying.

"Just let me down slowly! Please!" He whines as Kenma groans into his hands.

"You can be so stupid sometimes."

"Says the guy failing all his classes," You groan as his eye slightly twitches.

Kuroo, meanwhile, is complaining in the background as he seems to lament his food that was accidentally dropped on the floor in his dramatics.

"What I am trying to say is that I," Kuroo then yells a we, interrupting Kenma.

"We, want you to join us in the relationship," Kenma emphasizes as the reality of it all hits you.

"You like me?" You blink at him.

"You didn't realize?" He looks slightly worried, "Nekomata said I was coming off too strongly and Lev even made fun of me and you know how dense he is."

Oh. Oh.

Technically, you have won. You have liked them your entire life, but even this feels too sudden.

"Are you sure you're not just saying that to be compulsory heterosexual?" You say, "It's okay to admit that you only like guys—"

"Just shut up for a moment!" He snaps, looking at you, "I have always liked you and only recently did I know Kuroo felt, or feels I guess, the same! We can figure it all out as we go but I need an answer now so I can decide whether to drown myself in ice cream or to bring both of you upstairs!" He finally stops, breathing heavily as he slowly sits back down.

"So," he says, calmly, "Your answer?"

Your jaw goes slack as you look between Kenma and the counter as Kuroo attempts to hide his attempts at eavesdropping even though he is technically apart of the conversation.

"I mean I do like you both back, I always have," You say as Kenma's eyes blow wide and Kuroo jumps onto the counter in his muddy jeans to stare at you like the cat he always is, "but I need to know if you want this or are trying to say in a very odd way that our dynamic will stay the same."

Kenma throws his hands up in the air as Kuroo seems to stand still like a statue and you aren't sure he is breathing.

"Since you have so graciously gotten out of the hidden hells of the bottom cabinets, Kuroo, how about you help me here?" Kenma says, not so calmly as Kuroo makes a poor attempt at cackling but it just comes out as a cough.

Kenma then seems to try and absorb into his chair as he looks up at the illuminated chandelier, "This could've been so much easier if we weren't all cowards."

You tsk, "You two have always been the bold ones, I just was an extra pair of helping hands."

"You say that as though all of our hangouts and memories weren't made because you dragged us out of the house kicking and screaming," Kenma smiles.

It feels weird, to be able to talk about normal things in the very real presence of a possible relationship with the two. They don't feel like strangers right now, and perhaps they never were and you were the stranger.

"Okay!" Kuroo clears his throat as he, not so elegantly, falls over and across the counter and drags out a chair from under the table to sit with you two at the oddly large dinner table.

"We aren't fucking with you I promise and I don't know what we did to make you maybe think that but Kenma is absolutely serious even if he doesn't sound like it." He jabs a particularly nasty stare at Kenma as Kenma gives him the finger.

"I am glad that has been established, Tetsuro, but that doesn't solve the issue of how this would all work. Wouldn't I not encroach on your relationship?" You put your head in your hands as you stare at him. His eyes seem to soften as you hold his gaze before he puts his head in his hands.

"I think an important piece of information we are leaving out is that we have liked you before we even realized we liked each other," Kenma adds as Kuroo makes another very animalistic whine.

"But that's embarrassing."

"There is not a corner of my heart I would not turn over right now to convince them and you know this. Suck it up," Kenma sticks his tongue out at Kuroo as the man in question groans.

Kuroo lifts his head up, "Sorry, off track. We still need a yes or no," He stares at you as you cough up a laugh.

"I mean, yeah, of course, but I am just worried for you guys."

Kenma practically levitates out of his seat and right next to you at the table as his face seems to disfigure itself into the widest grin you have ever seen on his face. Kuroo, right across the table from you, begins clapping as he heads to the fridge; bringing out a large cake that is very messily written "For three!"

"You always thought of other people, Eve with that stupid hideout idea," He pulls you out of your seat as Kuroo attempts to find where Kenma hid candles.

"How long has this been in planning?"

"Since both me and Kuroo realized that we both wanted to kiss you alongside each other," He laughs as he swats Kuroo away from the utensils and goes to another drawer to bring out candles.

You laugh as Kuroo makes an attempt to glomp you, only for you to move out of the way as he almost falls face first on the stove.

"Oh my god look at the time," Kuroo points as it reads 2:43am on it.

Kenma shrugs, "I've seen worse."

"We have a game tomorrow?!" Kuroo almost pulls out his hair as he stares at Kenma.

"It's your fault not waiting until after the game like I said." He tuts as Kuroo turns to you, "Make the bully stop."

You laugh, "Kenma you're being mean."

"I know," he grins, "that's the fun part."

You snort as Kuroo makes a leap at Kenma and Kenma begins swatting him with a towel. It only makes you laugh harder.

Kenma and Kuroo hold a special place in your heart, and you don't think they will be relinquishing their hold on it anytime soon.

[im-bored-so-i-draw]

silverreign. now please.

hai anon :DDD not so now but you can get some doodles :3

[sylensombrr]

new headcanon: the reason why the sequel that shall not be named is so fucked and out of character is because it takes place in a different arcade run by one of Litwack's cousins

[saexy]

SO I RECIEVED MY FIRST EVER COMMISSION FROM PURII (@Puri24A on twt) ... AND iM FLOORED AND SPLATEEHEHDJD .. ITS JUST PERFECT! 💘💖♥️💖💘💖♥️💘💖♥️💘 THIS IS LOVE BYE.

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