#lmk if i missed a tw!!

[marrcelos]

lorenzo  zurzolo.  he/him.  cis male.    ›  spotted  at  the  met  steps,  marcelo  ‘mars’  valmount, most  likely  listening  to  hell  is  where  i  dreamt  of  u  and  woke  up  alone  by  blackbear  with  their  airpods  pro.  the  twenty  three  year  old  gained  quite  a  reputation,  known  to  be  - materialistic  yet  + determined  to  anyone  who  knows  them.  you’ll  easily  spot  them  when  you  hear  about   arguing  in  italian  over  the  phone  with  his  mother, nearly  shivering  in  disgust  at  the  sight  of  chipped  nail  polish, snorting  lines  of  coke  off  his  phone  as  his  agent  urgently  calls  him, designer  high  end  items  tossed  carelessly  as  if  they  have  no  value, claiming  it’s  'my  way  or  the  highway’ ,  followed  by  toy  boy  by  moschino.  latest  nepoupdates  article  talks  about  him  'allegedly’  hooking  up  with  a  married  teacher  at  university,  but  i  guess  any  reputation  is  good  reputation.  

basic stats ;

⟶ full name: marcelo leonardo valmount ⟶ nicknames: goes by mars, doesn’t mind being called marcelo either ⟶ three things he likes: getting high, discovering new vegan recipes, black nail polish ⟶ three things he dislikes: chipped nail polish, people who instigate, scary movies ⟶ gender: cis male ⟶ height: 5 ‘ 8 ⟶ age: twenty three ⟶ birthday: december 8, 1999 ⟶ zodiac: sagittarius sun, sagittarius moon, scorpio ascendant ⟶ right handed or left handed: right handed ⟶ eye color: baby blue ⟶ hair color: dark brown ⟶ piercings and tattoos: a cartilage piercing on his right ear, a small hoop piercing on his left earlobe, no tattoos ⟶ languages spoken: italian, spanish, and english ⟶ sexuality / romantic orientation: homosexual / homoromantic ⟶ place of birth: upper east side, new york ⟶ last five songs listened to: testa tra le nuvole pt. 2 by alfa, maradona y pelé by thegiornalisti, judas by lady gaga, la musica non c’è by coez, hell is where i dreamt of u and woke up alone by blackbear ⟶ five aesthetics: black nail polish, snorting coke off your phone as your mom calls you, golden eyeliner, baby blue eyes gazing into the sunset, impulsively shopping when you’re stressed ⟶ character inspo: eric effiong from sex education, maxxie oliver from skins u.k, patrick blanco from elite

background story ;

marcelo was born to an italian mother named martina incanti and an american father named richard valmount, the result of a high school love. his mother came from really old money, her parents owning hotel resorts called incanti inn ( literally equivalent to hilton hotels ) all around the world, while his father came from old money too, his parents owning a chain of water supplies ( similar to voss or smartwater ). regardless of how young his parents were, marcelo was practically born with a golden spoon in his mouth, spoiled to the bone and adored by his entire family

still, in every good story, there’s always a catch. before his mother came along, his father had impregnated another woman, meaning marcelo had an older half brother on his father’s side. when he was younger, he remembers his mother doing everything in her power to try and hide ace from him, but as time went on, she couldn’t stop the inevitable  –  marcelo eventually knew all about ace, even going as far as snooping around to figure out more things about his half brother

however, the curiosity to know one of his siblings went away as he realized what a problem ace and his mother were for his own mother and father, always being the number one cause of every fight they ever had. odds are that if marcelo’s parents were fighting, it had to do with ace, and he honestly grew sick of it 

was it really his fault that his father had chosen him and his mother instead and vice versa? admittedly, marcelo felt somewhat guilty about this as a kid, but the older he grew, the more okay with it he became. he figured that if his father had chosen them, it meant that he was obviously better than ace

this, and his entire upbringing, caused marcelo to grow a narcissistic complex. he began modeling at the tender age of six, for brands like gap, the children’s place, carter’s, you name it, and he’s probably modeled for it before. marcelo quickly became enamored with his looks, fully believing that first impressions and the way you looked to the world, was everything

he was also very academically intelligent, gifted in math and called the ‘human calculator’ by his teachers, as he could easily solve division, multiplication, addition and subtraction problems in his head without paper, in seconds. he went to a private, all boys school on the upper east side, singe handedly one of the best in the country

despite being book smart however, his real interest was in modeling and making a name for himself. in his early teen years, he booked a few commercials, and had a break through at fourteen when modeling for the popular luxury brand, gucci. when he was fifteen, he was officially signed to an agency, and from there on out, things grew more ‘intense’ for him, you could say

marcelo quickly realized just how big the competition was out there. for the first time, his last name didn’t mean anything to anyone, it was either bite or get bitten, and as much as he tried not to, he crumbled under pressure

! tws for eating disorders, fainting, hospitals and body dysphoria for the next four bullets, read with caution or skip over this if you’re triggered ! his habits start off so small at first, that he genuinely doesn’t see it as a problem. over exercising is only the beginning, but soon enough, he starts cautiously watching, and counting, the calories of the stuff he eats. when this isn’t proven to be enough, he switches to a vegan diet, and it just escalates from that point on

to be honest, he was never overweight. in fact, doctors would tell him he had to gain some weight in the past, but despite this, he didn’t feel good enough. more so, he felt like he could be better. he became obsessed with any little flaw he would pick out of himself and would work endlessly to fix it, or make it less noticeable. one of his more genuine friends in the modeling industry flat out told him he had a problem, but marcelo brushed it aside and kept ‘working’ on himself. by working on himself, i mean practically torturing himself with unhealthy diets and extreme exercise routines

the worst part is that he really didn’t think he had a problem. he struggled with an eating disorder and body dysphoria for six years, until one day, six months after his twenty first birthday, he ends up passing out during a photo shoot. waking up in the hospital, he’s told he has pretty bad malnutrition linked to an eating disorder and is recommended to seek help. at this point, he weighed ninety five pounds

it’s at this moment that he realizes that he’s not okay. this is a really rough time in his life, because not only do his parents find out about all his antics, but he feels ( somewhat forced ) to get better by not just them, but his friends and his fanbase. it’s also embarrassing for him, as this incident became publics news, so despite not being quite ready to get the help he needs, he ends up checking himself into an inpatient clinic in brooklyn that specializes in eating disorders and mental health. he’s there for three months and it’s basically hell for him, the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, but… he does get better. by a lot. ends up gaining the weight he needs and see’s a nutritionist to work out a ( healthy ) vegan diet for him

after this rather dark time in his life, he decides to go to college to study psychology and minor in nutrition and dietetics. here is where you could say that he ‘finds himself’, as people do the craziest things in their college years. first off, he develops a nasty coke habit, as lots of people in the industry do. he likes the way coke takes away your hunger, and he enjoys the way it makes him feel on top of the world and focused. second of all, he realizes he’s pretty damn gay

to be fair, he’s always had an idea that he wasn’t straight, but he assumed ( wrongly ) that he was bisexual for the longest time. it isn’t until college that he realizes he isn’t really romantically interested in females, hooking up with ( a lot ) of guys

! tw for student/teacher relationship, general inappropriate relationships, read with caution of skip over this if you’re triggered ! to make his life even harder, marcelo begins secretly hooking up with a history professor, who is really only thirty two, but he’s married, and supposedly ‘straight’ to everyone. this relationship is inappropriate and truth be told, marcelo isn’t even sure why he does it to begin with. because he likes attention? because he’s a gay whore? the validation he gives him? point is that this goes on for a couple of months, until, if you guessed it, they get caught. thankfully, this is managed to be kept under wraps and the professor he had been hooking up with transfers to another college, unfortunately? it gets to the ears of his parents, and he’s forced to come out to them a month before his twenty third birthday

honestly, marcelo thought his mother would take it the wrong way. she’s italian, she’s religious, and old school, but surprisingly? she’s the most supportive of him, gives him a hug and tells him she’s going to love him no matter what. his father though? there’s a reaction he wasn’t expecting at all

‘why would you do this to me?’ ‘why are you choosing this lifestyle? have you not embarrassed us enough with this?’ ‘why are you like this marcelo?’ ‘it’s like i don’t even know you anymore’ ‘if i would’ve known my son would turn out to be a fucking queer, i would’ve chosen my other family’ are just some of the many hurtful things he’s told that very night. he never thought his father would be so against him being gay, and it actually really hurts his feelings more than he let on because growing up, he had a very good relationship with his father. he taught him how to play piano, he spoiled him to no end, he was always really supportive of his choices, but this? this was something richard was simply not living down

things become so awkward with his father, he uses the money he makes modeling and through sponsorships and social media to buy a luxury penthouse near his college, wanting to be far away from him. at this moment, he can’t help but wonder  –  is this how ace has felt his whole life? 

headcanons ;

despite being fully recovered from his eating disorder, there are days where marcelo feels ready to give up. he wouldn’t go back to hurting himself the way he used to, but it’s still something he struggles with. he is really, really iffy about what he eats

ironically enough, he’s all about preaching about healthy living and eating right, then proceeds to take four lines of coke without even taking a break... hypocrite, much?

marcelo has thirty seven million followers on instagram and counting, and an equal amount on other social media platforms. he’s a model, an influencer, heir and a college student

he loves painting his nails. his favorite color to paint them is black, but he enjoys dark blue as well. he hates chipped nail polish, will literally run to get his nails re done the second he see’s a chip, usually does black gel or black powder dip

despite acting like he’s too good for everyone, marcelo secretly craves validation. whether it be with his friends or flings he’s had, he just wants to feel like he’s good enough for someone, because truthfully, despite having anything materialistic he could ever want, he doesn’t feel like he’s worthy of love, or deserving of it, but he craves it

he’s a huge vegan, has been a vegan for over a year now and will probably never go back. watch him look at you funny if he catches you eating a burger or something

marcelo loves animals, but is more of a cat person. he has a ragdoll cat he named draco meowfoy while drunk and would basically die for him

he’s been playing piano since he has five, but considers this to just be a fun hobby. he was taught by his father, and his top two favorite pieces to play are i love you by riopy and nuvole bianche by ludovico einaudi

he’s fluent in english, italian and spanish, and will strictly only speak in italian with his mother. despite not being born in italy, marcelo considers himself more italian than american

he loves music in italian too, especially italian love songs or italian edm songs. some of his favorite italian artists are shade, alfa and even thegiornalisti

he impulsively shops when he’s stressed, doesn’t even bother looking at the price tag anymore, just gets what he wants whenever he wants. he’s materialistic, and loves looking good

marcelo is the perfect definition of ‘money doesn’t buy happiness’ because he has everything anyone could ever want, but truthfully? he’s not happy. he feels alone, and no amount of shopping, drug usage, or partying, is going to fix that

i’m going to end this here because this is getting long, but below are some wanted connections and his birthchart!

wanted connections ;

get in loser, we’re going shopping: shopping buddies, could be any gender, but they just go out and spend a fuck ton of money on stuff they don’t even need, probably a superficial relationship

who are you again?: hear me out, someone he gave head to at a party but genuinely doesn’t remember it, but your muse does. like ‘wait isn’t that the guy who sucked my dick?’ and marcelo is just like ‘ha ha.... do i know you?’ literally this level of black out drunk

not sure how we’re friends... i mean, look at your shoes: a pair of very, very unlikely friends. they’re not even sure how they became friends, but it’s surprisingly a genuine friendship, could be very wholesome

i know what you did in college: someone who knew he was hooking up with a professor from college. could go to the same college or could have just been at the wrong place at the wrong time. how this muse replies is entirely up to you, could think marcelo is a legend, or could seriously judge him, i’m open for whatever

it’s meant to be. look, we’re both eating vegan eggplant parmesan!: literally became friends because they’re both vegans. text each other about new vegan recipes or new vegan spots they find around town, share the same love of not eating, consuming or messing with any animal products at all, they said animals are friends, not food!

i hate your stinking guts: someone who doesn’t like him. he’s very easy to hate. very entitled and acts like he’s better than everyone. your muse could hate him, or he could hate your muse

what? you can hate people and still think they’re hot: a classic hate ship, open to males/nb. they claim to really not like each other, yet always end up in each others beds, whether they’re drunk or sober, whatever the case might be

you’ve seen me naked before: people ( guys ) he’s hooked up with. he’s a whore so this is open to multiple guys. whether they still hook up or not can be plotted

i tried to warn you from the start: someone in the industry like him, who saw him getting bad and tried to help him, but marcelo wouldn’t listen to them. could be any gender, but this muse genuinely tried to help him at his lowest and he would just shake them off with an ‘i’m fine’. marcelo reached out to this muse when he got out of the hospital to thank them for trying to make him see he had a problem

from afar, i guess: maybe someone who has a crush on him, but he has no idea? could be interesting to play out

need a girls night? get in here, bitch: female friends! give me females he’s very good friends with, a gay bff if you must, and they just gossip, talk shit, watch romcoms and get into all types of shenanigans together!

you were the first guy in my life: first guy he’s ever hooked up with, helped him realize he’s gay. they could be on bad terms, on good terms, friends, still hooking up, i’m open to any ideas!

or, we could brainstorm!

birthchart ;

[fycoren]

wuh oh-

[intotheelliwoods]

A small follow up to this post :)

Masterpost

[daily-crabbys]

This Friday's meme is: you always do this

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

unpopular opinion but whump should and deserves to be messy

"Yeah duh there's plenty of scenarios with blood and tears--" no. I want more.

I want pink tinted spit dribbling out of Whumpee's mouth. I want strings of saliva connecting between their busted lip to Whumper's tongue. I want drool running down the corners of their mouths because of a gag that makes it difficult to swallow.

I want sweat making Whumpee feel sticky and clammy to the touch. I want their skin to be slick and soaking into their soiled clothes. I want them to squirm in discomfort of a dirty shirt clinging to their back from precious fluids that are going to risk further dehydration. I want their hair to be continuously damp and hanging in thick strands in their face.

I want the scabs to turn white with pus and black with infection. I want old wounds to tear open and bleed a thick red. I want the pink flesh underneath to pulse and quiver, the sight of yellow fat and cartilage. I want blood vessels and capillaries to burst and spread over an area, I want burns to start brown and peel away to a tender pink.

I want Whumpee to vomit out of their nose because their mouth is gagged. I want bile to reek on their clothing and on their tongue. I want them to grow use to the taste of bitter blood and burning chyme forever in the back of their throat. I want them to have to snort and hack to be able to spit out whatever was still caught on their tongue or risk swallowing it down.

I want their tears to remain unwiped and crusting over their eyes. I want snot to smear over their cheeks and leave their lips uncomfortably tacky. I want their face to remain blotchy and red because they just can't get it clean. I want dirt and blood and skin to build up under their fingernails to the point they risk infecting their own wounds if they try and mess with it. I want Whumpee to only be sprayed down with cold water and an old towel, never any soap and never in all the creases of their body.

I want their bodies caked in grime and viscera and bodily fluids. I want Whumper to never give them the luxury of feeling clean and in fact actively making them more filthy each time. I want Whumpee's clothes yellowed and their hair matted and their skin sickly. I want injuries to never properly heal so that the only option is to amputate the necrosis. I want Whumper to force Whumpee to clean up whatever kind of mess they made by licking it off the floor.

I want arteries to spew like a garden sprinkler. I want the exposed roots of pulled teeth to dangle freely in their mouth. I want Whumpee's hair, including all of their body hair, to grow to unruly lengths that are constantly tangled and ingrown. I want them to find comfort in starving because it means there's nothing to risk throwing up. I want them to scrub their skin raw and bleeding, uncaring how much it aggravates their injuries or how the soap stings, the first chance they're given for a real bath.

I want it to be nasty!!!!!!

[aroacesetitoff]

TW: Blood, murder, character death, spoilers for FHJY ep 15

guys idk how to add a cut on mobile just scroll rlly fast

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this scene lives rent free in my head i had to animate it, even if it is kinda bad

[sporeclan]

[Next >]

Here's a little prologue! Hope you enjoy the backstory of this clan! I'm pretty proud of it, honestly.

Because there's a pretty low contrast on the text in some of these panels, I've written them down under the cut for anyone who's struggling to read it! I've also added some image descriptions to the images themselves :]

Moon ??

A new fungus starts growing in the clan's territories.

Soon, the Star-reach Tree succumbs to the fungus.

It spreads fast and eats most things.

Within moons, trees start falling.

The clans' connection to StarClan has been severed

Desperate for resources and lost without guidance, the clans are driven to war.

The loss of trees means loss of food and shelter for prey...

As a result, most prey evacuate the area, leaving the clans to starve.

...

War ravages the already weakened clans.

Only few cats remain when the dust settles...

And fewer stay for long.

The clans are no more.

A single cat rallies a small group of former enemies together.

Crowwhistle

has a vivid dream

SporeClan has been founded!

Moon 0

First moon of New-Leaf

[enduracarrotchips]

doodles

[theloveinc]

bakugo x reader - you have a fussy baby

(warnings: ooc, you have a baby and are called mama. no mention of pregnancy. written in bed)

-

There’s a part of Bakugo that always gets a little bit nervous when you call. A growing fear, one that’s not always the most reasonable, as he’s long since learned to stop guessing what it is he’ll have to answer to.

Usually, his worry is assuaged immediately by the chirp of your sweet voice, more often than not calling to ask about groceries, or the timing of his arrival home, or even just to say, “hey, sweetie. How are you?”

But as of late, with the stress of multiple new realities on his hands, the playing catchup of his returning back to work, it’s been—

“Katsuki,” your voice trembles on the receiver, the fuss of your hands practically audible too, “thank god. I’m so sorry, but—“

You whimper, there’s a wail, and his gut clenches, veins turning cold as ice with adrenaline like any and every other time he prepares, quicker than you know, to catch a villain.

“Fuck, babe?” his voice is raspy with the crack of worry, his eyes flitting about as if the crime is in front of him, the offender just across the line of the dark, moon-lit horizon. “Are you okay? Are you safe—“

You interrupt.

“I just can’t get him to sleep. I-I’ve tried everything,” there’s a hiccup from somewhere close by, the baby on your shoulder most likely, “but he’s not going down. I don’t know what to do anymore. He’s clean, he’s changed, he ate almost everything I had—“

“Hey,” he says sternly, dad-like, in a way you’ve almost never heard from him, and you halt. Bakugo looks around the empty streets he’s walking, the evening sky of a warm spring having now receded into chill. “I’ll be there quick, okay?”

And just as soon, he calls Kirishima to let him know he’s deviating from the patrol route.

-

Your son relaxes in his arms almost as soon as you set him down. Still in uniform, a sheen of sweat and dirt coating his body, he must smell like something comforting to the little babe as he stops crying just as fast, smacking his little lips into the sweaty shirt he now lays on.

You part from them, letting Bakugo take charge, the anxious tears stopped but still streaked down your cheeks, illuminated where you finally allow yourself to sit on the handsome blue armchair by the crib.

“Fussy shit,” Bakugo complains quietly, tearing one little snort of a giggle out of you as you gaze upon the two of them and wipe your nose, and at the same time, he gazes down at the baby with your eyes. “Wanted to make your mama cry, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” you say, sinking down into soft plush, “I’m so sorry I panicked, made you come all this way for nothing.”

“Stop apologizing, baby. ‘S not nothing,” he replies. “You needed help, and that’s what I’m here for. I’m”—he almost says fuckin’ Dynamight, pausing to look at you when he changes his mind—“dad. I’m dad.”

You smile weakly, and he approaches, dipping down on one knee to let you give your finally sleeping baby one last goodnight kiss, your fingers gently curling his blonde bangs away from his forehead.

“Just needed your daddy, I guess. Right, little boy?”

Bakugo can’t help but smirk, pulling back carefully to gently put the baby in his crib. He whines as he goes down, stretching his little limbs out now that the swaddle has been discarded… and though he notices the way your fingers tighten into themselves in worry as you watch, he settles back into sleep almost immediately, barely a pause in between to confirm it.

In the new silence, you finally whisper. “You gotta go back? To work?”

“I’ll get Denki over here in an hour,” Bakugo nods, also whispering; the sound that comes out unfamiliarly quiet, but not all that unpleasant as he steps and turns back to you, one hand reaching out to smooth down the hairs on your neck. “He’ll let you rest. You got it til then, or should I wait with you?”

You wave him off, still seeming tired but already calm enough to turn on the night light and pick up the book you started way back when, maybe even before becoming a mom. “I’ll be okay.”

“Don’t be afraid to ask for help again though, mama,” he leans down to give you your goodnight kiss before he finally has to go, reminding you of all the trust he has for you, too. “We’re all here to help.”

[angelyuji]

yandere rick sanchez headcanons

(obviously very ooc… like im taking his worst characteristics and turning the dial to 100)

cw // spoilers for literally the entire show, noncon, stalking, kidnapping, torture, being kept like a pet, drugging

18+

RAUEIA:ADOBAIDHJO?S{DH*}

canonically big dick like i need him BAD

guys im so in love with this old fucker

season 1+2 rick would definitely just keep you around for sex

the only reason he hasn’t gotten rid of you is cuz you’re a “good fuck”

literally treats you like an object or a cute little pet

“e-eat.” rick places a plate on a table he brought for you. he moves away to type on some computer. all you remember is a green portal in your room and a man you had never met dragging you out of bed. the room you were in was filled with computers and equipment. he didn’t bother to tie you up.

you don’t move, hearing your silence, rick turns to look at you. he burps, “i-i-i bring you some food out of the goodness of my h-heart and you’re not going to eat it?” you don’t answer. “s-s-stupid fucking b-bitch.” he moves over to grab you by the hair and pulls you closer to the table. “eat the fucking food.” you scream, your scalp searing in pain, as he shoves your face onto the table.

s1+2 rick kinda feels like the type to peer-pressure you into a drinking or doing drugs because he can

like he’d definitely force you to some alien drugs just cuz he can or cuz you’re not as resistant when you’re high off your balls

but season 3 and onward??? oh he’s so obsessed with you

let me explain this personality change

by season 3, rick is starting to care for his family so if you meet him after the whole federation prisoner arc of his, he’s more of like a clingy wet cat vibe… like imagine wisp the cat…. guys i lowkey cooked with that comparison

he’s allowed himself to care for his family (even sometimes jerry)

so when he meets you, this sweet, kind, beautiful person. he wants to protect you. he wants to keep you safe from all the shit that happens to the people in his life

constantly checks on you, calling and texting you daily. he always tries to play it off as a butt-dial

‘sdas’ you’re at work when your phone buzzes as rick’s text comes through. you look at the gibberish, roll your eyes, and continue working. 15 minutes later, a green portal flashes open next to you. everyone jumps in surprise, looking at the portal as rick walks through. “why didn’t you text me back?” rick grabs your arm, looking pissed. you look around, embarrassed.

you lower your voice to a hush, “you texted me gibberish? what exactly was i supposed to text back?” his grip on your bicep tightens and you wince.

“i-it was an accident, but y-you didn’t text back and i was worried.” rick starts to pull you into the portal, but you stand your ground.

“rick, i’m working. you have to go.” rick’s face darkens at your words, but he lets go when your coworker comes up to you.

“is everything alright?” she looks concerned and alarmed at rick’s appearance, and he rolls his eyes.

“(y/n) here, didn’t answer my text so i got worried.” rick pulls you into a tight hug and whispers into your ear, “next time, text me back.”

builds you a bunch of stuff to keep you safe like a chip that insta-kills anyone that it detects to be bothering you

that first week of meeting you, he had broken into your house at night and planted a tracker in your skin when you were sleeping, so he knows where you are at all times

during the whole killing rick-prime arc, he was so scared that you would get hurt or prime would come after you

he didn’t want to lose you like how he lost diane and beth :(

“baby, come on, it’s for your safety.” rick pleads as you slam your hands against the force field.

“SO YOU TRAP ME IN A CAGE????” you scream as rick presses a hand against the wall.

“it-it’s just for your protection, baby, i can’t lose you too.”

“FUCK YOU, RICK. I SWEAR WHEN YOU LET ME OUT OF HERE, WE’RE DONE.” you wouldn’t stop screaming at him. morty watches, uncomfortably.

“are-are you sure this is okay, rick?” rick’s face is unreadable as he registers your words.

“it-it’s fine, morty. i just won’t ever let them out.”

rick also seems like the type to have a breeding kink, but like with the no kids yk (this mf does NOT want more kids) (especially after the whole ghia incident)

like he doesn’t use condoms and he doesn’t pull out, because he likes marking you as his from the inside.

he would definitely have a marking kink like hickeys, love bites, collars, anything that shows the world that you’re taken by him

rick’s hands caress you as you struggle in your bonds.

“i’m sorry, baby, so so-sorry.” he buries his head in your shoulder, sucking at your nape. his hands start to pull at your pants and you struggle harder. he pulls away from your neck to leave wet kisses down your chest, “i know, i know, i’m sorry, sweetie. you just looks so cute, so sw-sweet. it’s really not my fault.”

[gurokichi]

Hey, so, I’m like super cute already but I bet that I’d look just adorable when bloodied and bruised by your hands.

You wanna test if that’s true? I’ll stay perfectly still so you can show everyone that I’m all yours. (๑>◡<๑)

[fraternum-momentum]

2024 < 2019 < 2017 (?)

[fsheryy]

normal response to a disagreement I think

[letthebookbegin]

biden retracting earlier remarks about seeing photos of dead children & stating he hadn't seen any such photos | no israeli officials have confirmed viral reports of beheaded babies | LA times retraction of rape claims

[smurflethesmurf]

do you like ham x Eliza or do you have art of it?? I love them

Yes :)) (the art’s kind of old though)

[sunshinetoshi]

reunion at the station

kuroo x reader (~1k words)

content (warnings): implied angst from the past but the actual fic is very romcom esque; reader cries a lot lol don’t read if that annoys you

a/n: remember that long fic i mentioned?? she’s only getting 2 parts revealed on this blog. enjoy the first part <3

The crowd was beginning to disperse as commuters either boarded their next train or headed toward the streets. You pushed your bag higher onto your shoulder and glanced around to take in the sights of the once familiar station. A little girl grabbing onto her younger brother’s hand to lead the way home. An elderly man reading today’s newspaper on a nearby bench.

Then you saw it. A head of hair in the distance, towering over passerbyers. Your knees almost buckled but you found yourself step forward, not once taking your eyes off the black hair.

The one you were watching brought his head up slightly, his eyes sporadically glanced around, careful not to bump into anyone while he tried to keep reading off of his phone. You were certain it was him.

Suddenly your feet were glued to the floor, just watching as he got closer and closer. His eyes finally ran over your direction and your grip on your luggage tightens. Maybe he didn’t see you. But right as the thought passes, his eyes quickly flew back to you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He froze in place, mirroring you. Then he was running toward you, darting through the crowd. Never taking his eyes off of you. When he got to you, his embrace was almost a crash. In his arms, you could feel his laughter. Your ears tingled from the sound.

Finally he released his hold and looked over you.

But you couldn’t look at him. Your hands were on his sweater and you could only stare at the collar of the button-up he wore. He smirked and gently lifted your head so you meet his gaze. And just as he had done a hundred times, like a lifetime had not passed, he lightly pinched your nose.

Instinctively you smiled and swatted his hand away.

He chuckled and once again wrapped his arms around you. He took a few breaths before you heard him whisper. He said it softly, but you heard him. “I forgave you a long time ago.”

You tightened your hold around him.

He waited for you to say something in reply. But he looked down, troubled when he felt your body hiccup. You were crying. He gently pulled away from you to get a better look. He called your name.

You brought your hands to your face and began sobbing.

“Hey,” he whispered. Deciding to give you a minute, he rubbed your back and let you cry. After a while though, he noticed the stares people were giving them.

He cooed your name, then repeated it a few more times. “Okay. People are starting to look at us concerned, what’s wrong?” He saw a passing mother and son look at him alertly. He tried to give them an innocent smile. It must’ve been unconvincing as they shuffled away. He turned back to you trying to wipe your tears away - but more kept escaping. At this point he was incessant and tried desperately to get you to at least talk to him. “Y/N, just tell me why you’re crying,” he whisper-shouted at this point.

And just as you had done a hundred times before, you lightly smacked his chest. You whisper-shouted back, “I don’t know why I’m crying you jerk.” You finally looked him in the eye.

While he stood there shocked to hear your voice after so long, you took the opportunity to take in his face. The angles of his features were sharper now. The smile lines a little deeper. The glint in his eyes telling of strength. That one hurt and you almost grimaced in guilt. It may not have just been you, but you sure had to be a part of it.

But he started chuckling. It sounded a little deeper, but it was more than recognizable to you. It was Tetsurou.

You reached up slowly and wrapped your arms around his neck. The motion was familiar, but heavily out of practice. You let out a shaky laugh. It was your third hug in such a short amount of time. But when Tetsurou wrapped his arms around you tightly, it no longer seemed like a silly thought.

When the two of you let go he grinned down at you again. He looked a little breathless, dazed. “Can… can we grab a bite?”

You smiled back and nodded, “Of course.”

He grabbed the duffle bag you had abandoned by your feet and led you away from the station. As you walked, your mind was racing. It all felt so turbulent. Kuroo was the last person you were expecting to see on your arrival. When you looked up at him, you felt all-too familiar feelings rushing back. Yet it felt different. He wasn’t the same boy you left all those years ago. You thought about how much time had passed. How much they have experienced separately. Memories of the last times you were this close kept flashing through your mind.

You lifted your hands up gingerly. You were so hesitant. What if I can’t do this anymore? We’re not the same teenagers we once were. We haven’t spoken in so long. But when you wrapped your hands around Tetsurou’s upper-arm, he gave you a gentle smile. You looked into his eyes and you felt your whole body relax. Your nerves subsided.

Maybe you both needed this reunion. Who knows where it could lead?