The one thing I want from this new Spider-Man movie is New York rising up. I understand that the MCU has created a different relationship between superheroes and everyone else, but we need a moment like the subway scene in the first movies or the crane scene in the second ones. If there's anything this Peter needs, now that he's all alone, is some true community support from his city.
Hi!! Love all your posts, oh my lord you must have wicked intuition !!
Pretty please, can we have the language for March 28th?
Thank you so much, the astro community is blessed to have you <3
Have a spectacular day :D
Language Of Birthdays: March 28 - Aries
[You can find the rest of the series here; or check out my masterlist]
The Day Of Innocence
March 28 people often present an innocent exterior to the world. In life they have to go their own way but may at times be blithely unaware of the direction they are taking. Those born on this day are most often intent on pursuing matters at hand, generally job-related, and display great concentration when doing their work. In fact, bombs could be exploding around them and they would remain focused on their objective. Strangely enough, though awareness of the feelings of others is not always of the highest importance to them, they are nonetheless very popular and well-liked for their openness and frankness. Their good sense of humor doesn't hurt, either.In a curious way, those born on this day seem to serenely accept circumstances and events surrounding them, whether good or bad. But often this is due less to an accepting philosophy than to the simple fact that they are not deeply interested.
Although they can play outgoing roles or be destined for extroverted activities, March 28 people like most to be left alone. Their need for privacy is especially evident in their home, which must be well-guarded against the outside world; despite any amount of public acclaim, they are happiest when living in secluded or out-of-the-way places.In many ways those born on this day are not cut out to be first in their profession. Rather, those who reach the top are often driven to do so because of their discomfort with being second. Somehow, in their innocence, they lack the toughness and ruthlessness to barge ahead in life. Often they will settle for a more comfortable position at a lower level as long as they have a degree of autonomy. Many March 28 people display a lack of self-confidence when they must perform at the highest level, subject to intense public scrutiny; in fact, they may be well equipped and prepared for such a position but still not believe it. Consequently, March 28 people are forever doubting their career choices and decisions. "Did I really do the right thing?" is a question which often occurs to them and therefore to others.
Those born on this day usually have a devoted and loyal following among friends, colleagues, family and the public. They spend a good part of their time doing favors for others, including serving as a contact person through whom people meet each other. Because they can become cornerstones of the established order, conflicts can arise between their private beliefs and what they are called upon to do. Protection is important to these private people; rarely will they leave themselves in a vulnerable position—emotionally, financially, artistically or politically.
People who seek deep and emotionally rewarding relationships with those born on this day may find themselves frustrated. March 28 people make good pals, but as soon as they feel restrictive chains or ropes have appeared, they disappear. To the other person, however, who may only be expressing love or affection, the shock of being left so quickly can be devastating. March 28 people are actually quite emotional, but rarely reveal the more intense desires, wishes or fears that lie behind a childlike exterior.
Strengths:
Independent
Sunny
Diligent
Weaknesses:
Unaware
Flighty
Advice
People born on March 28 must watch out for sudden and unexpected accidents usually unrelated to their occupations. Those born on this day are usually sunny and positive but because of their lack of self-awareness and dislike of analysis or psychological probing have little to fall back on in the case of depressions, which can be extremely severe. On the other hand, depressions may force them to fathom their deeper selves, so they should not waste the opportunity! Generally, those born on this day are sensible enough to take care of themselves, thus avoiding most diseases which are due to neglect or indulgence. Food should not serve merely as a fuel for powering the body but as a joy to be appreciated, that way it will be more nourishing. Exercise should be less of a regimen and more a recreation, that way it will be more refreshing.
Plan carefully and allow time for contemplation
Schedule frequent vacations where you turn the- motor off and get to know yourself better
Still the mind. Empty
Don't be afraid to drop the facade
Stop doubting yourself—it is holding you back
Thank you so much for your support, I hope you like the post!! <3
"The incest part of spy x family ruins it" SHUT UP, your wrong, Yuri Briar is a complex character and to put it as a "weird incest thing" is wrong.
First, Yuri has never implied he wanted any sexual relations with his sister, the most he has said is he loves her and wants to marry her, and that isnt weird if you put in the context that Yuri and Yor are both children who suffered from the war. They didnt have parents to take care of them, that burden was put onto Yor as the older sibling. Yuri looks up to her for that and wants to prove to Yor that he can protect them too. Yuri doesnt understand the complexities of love because he was never taught it, he loves his sister and wants to protect her and has gotten his feelings confused for wanting to marry her. "but hes so weird around loid" IN HIS CHILDHOOD IT WAS ONLY HIM AND HIS SISTER HE IS GOING TO HAVE TROUBLE TRUSTING OTHERS.
They grew up in a war, A WAR. Thats going to have a mental toll on your character, Yuri has taken this by wanting to protect who he loves. Yuri doesnt have anyone outside of Yor he is going to be confused on what his love means.
Loid has mentioned how he is jealous of Yors and Yuris relationship because its so close, and they have eachother to rely on, something Loid didnt get as a child. Loid doesnt see Yuri as a threat to him and Yor.
You can see how he grows through the story and accepts that Yor has found another person to trust and rely on and he doesnt have to carry that burden alone. He has slowly been letting go and giving Loid a chance to be there for Yor and Loid has proven he can and will be there for her, and yuri is grateful and even takes up tutoring Anya, it doesnt work out but he still tries to be supportive to his sister.
In conclusion Yuri briar did not ruin the plot of spy x family with a weird incest trope, if you look at the dialoge and think deeper in on the story, you can observe Yuris growth as a person.
apologies if this doesnt make sense i just hate people who missread the story of Yuris character
How to create a character for an online or tabletop RPG (also a good guide on creating characters in general)
Royalty/nobility TV Tropes page
Basic character profile
OC masterpost
Random character generators - (1), (2), (3), (4)
D&D Character Building Tool
Character Design Ideas:
How clothing affects a character’s personality
Character Design Inspiration blog
Concept art, fan art, cool art to be inspired by
Character design references and inspiration
Sources for POC character design ideas and models
Create your own character model using HeroForge
For horned characters
Body and hair types guide
Random outfit generator
Naming Help:
Amazing site with an endless amount of naming resources
General advice on avoiding naming appropriation
Hispanic Surnames
Gothic Victorian names
Huge master list for character things in general
Masterlist of names of all types - including but not limited to ancient/old world names, Celtic, African, Northern European, Southern and Central American Native names, Japanese, Chinese, Mongolian, Polynesian, and more
Another name masterlist
How to pick a character name guide
Yet another names masterlist
Creating Background/backstory:
Character Sheet/Development Sheet
Another character development list
In-depth character personality, motivations and traits sheet
320 talents and passions for characters
On writing likes and dislikes that aren’t frivolous
Why you should write non-human characters non-conforming to the gender binary
Stereotypes, tropes, and archetypes
Random backstory generator
Assassin and thief character tropes to avoid
Character Interactions and putting your character into your world/story:
Comparing character height/height references
Characters who are scientists and writing about them doing science
Describing what different voices sound like
Describing skin tones
Writing friendship interactions that are platonic
Why having one character knock their friend unconscious to prevent them from doing something is a bad idea
Advice on shipping OCs with canon characters and what to avoid doing
Sweet Polly Oliver and Sweet on Polly Oliver situations (think of Disney’s Mulan for an example)
How to write multiple viewpoints/juggling a main cast of more than 4 to 6 characters
How to make readers care about your morally gray hero/anti-hero
On platonic OC and canon character relationships
How to avoid Godmodding in RPs
When it’s cheap to kill off a character
Writing dialogue
Things you shouldn’t do to canon characters
Avoiding purple prose in writing and RPs
Slang resources
Dialogue tips
Websites to chart your story/plot/character relationships
Eloise really thought Penelope was there to be her expectator, didn't she? It's so sad to me how unbalanced Penelope and Eloise's friendship was and how little did Eloise pay attention to Penelope's hopes and dreams, how little she thought of her. And she never listens to her at all, she can listen to Cressida, a known bully, but never to Pen. Eloise not noticing her friend wanted love, not noticing she loved Colin and had a wonderful witty mind. I think Eloise's arc will be about leaving this self-centered place her mind works in, to see that she is also not perfect or moral superior.
I hate how insecure she also makes Penelope feel. LW is something Colin has to know, for Pen herself and for Colin, but it's only one aspect of a complex, interesting, intelligent and beautiful woman. Colin can love Pen for everything that she is.
I hate how lonely Pen is after she comes home, that she has nobody to talk to, to talk about how confusing everything is, from the feelings she has, Colin has showed her and her recent path to her sexuality, writing alone and overwhelmed. It made me feel so much for her. And people wonder why she has LW. It's the only way someone will actually hear her. Her only voice, her only escape to where she is not belittled and not made to doubt her worth. She has never been shown truly how wonderful is to be loved. And i can't wait for Colin's sweet and protective nature to show her in every way.
⟢ summary: when you’re young and in love, it’s easy to forget that life can be far crueler than it should be at 18. but it’s also easy to forget that life can work in wonderful ways too. sometimes, you just have to wait a little for it.
⟢ a/n: a slightly edited repost of a fic I wrote a couple of years ago :3
The last moment you spent with Kuroo was unremarkable.
“Swap.”
“But I like this one.”
“You know the rules.” With a resigned sigh you hand him your can of lychee soda, gingerly taking his bottle of aloe vera juice. Eyeing the cloudy, slightly greenish liquid, you grimace before you reluctantly raise it to your lips. You take a sip and wrinkle your nose in disgust.
“I can’t believe you actually like this shit.”
“Don’t be dramatic, you’ve just got childish taste buds. Besides, it’s good for you”
“I do not!” you scoff, hitting his shoulder lightly.
“Uh-huh. And this is coming from the girl who drinks artificially flavoured sugary juice.”
“Give it back then if you don’t like it,” you huff, making a grab for it.
“No.” He holds the can out of reach of your outstretched hand, which is not much of a feat considering how long his arms are. “It’s mine now.”
“But you don’t even like it!” you whine.
“Don’t care,” he shrugs, taking a sip.
“Even if all your teeth fall out from the sugar, old man?” You raise an eyebrow challengingly.
“I’ll get dentures,” he grins, throwing you a teasing wink. “I’m sure I can make the fake teeth work. Anything’s possible when you look like this.”
“Oh, shut up will you.” You scowl at him, slumping back down on his bed beside him and sipping at the remainder of his drink in annoyance, pushing down the strong urge to spit it at him. It would be funny, and maybe start a gross little war between you, but you’re not really in the mood for that right now.
Silence falls between you again, an obnoxiously frequent visitor on this clear, starry night. Your head falls on Kuroo’s shoulder just as his arm finds your waist and tucks you closer into his side, fingers tracing shapes over your hip. A few months ago, he would be laughing nervously and trying his hardest to play it cool, all while a hot blush lit up his cheekbones and ears. There’s very few traces of that shy boy left. You miss him a little.
“Feels weird now that we’ve graduated,” you muse. “It’s all downhill from here.”
“Don’t be such a pessimist,” he scolds lightly. “We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us!”
“Here we go.”
You groan as he starts his rant about life and things that are too abstract and far away into the future for you to think about. Turning your head, you watch him excitedly talk about possibilities and plans and your heart weighs down in your chest.
This will be the last time.
“Tetsu,” you interrupt quietly.
“Yeah?”
“I want you to forget me after I’ve left.” You can feel how Kuroo tenses all of a sudden, the lines of his body stilling as his grip on you tightens protectively. Defiantly.
“Woah, woah, woah- why would I do that?” he asks worriedly. You sigh heavily, sitting up so that you can look at him. He knows why. You’ve had this conversation before, several times in fact.
“To make it easier. For both of us. We’ve talked about this before, and I’ve been thinking that it would be best.” you tell him gently, even though every cell in your body tells you not to.
“But I don’t want to forget you,” he says stubbornly. “And who exactly is this easier for? Don’t you even want to try making this work long distance? I think we can do it.”
“I don’t want to end up resenting you.” Kuroo’s brows pinch together. “What if I neglect you, or you neglect me? What then? What if we start hating each other?”
“You won’t! We’ll call and text everyday, it’ll be like you never left! That’s what technology is for, sweetheart.”
“But we’ll only manage to squeeze in a couple of hours each day at best because of the timezone differences and even then we might not manage that! You know it doesn’t make sense,” you point out. Your tone softens as you take his hand in yours, running your thumb soothingly over his knuckles. “You’re usually so logical, Tetsu, this isn’t like you.”
Kuroo sighs, tugging you in to rest against his chest. It’s so natural now, so effortless, how you fall into each other’s embrace. Like being there was written for you from the start.
“Not always. Love isn’t logical y’know. You taught me that,” he murmurs into your hair. “Love tells me that I should keep you here, safe in my arms, not let you go halfway across the world for university.”
“Tetsu, you know-“
“I know, I know. Believe me, I know. I’d never hold you back, no matter what. But you can’t ask me to be logical when every cell in my body refuses to let you go. You can’t ask me to forget you because I would never be able to. How could I ever forget someone I love?”
You cling to him more tightly, cursing every divine power that has decided to wedge itself between you. Why the fuck has life led you in this direction? It’s cruel. Unfair.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” you mumble.
“I’m not. And despite what you say, I know you won’t forget me either. Doing this now, or before you leave, or not at all, is going to hurt us at some point.”
“Well, what do you suggest?”
You sit up to look at him again, meeting melancholic eyes that mirror your own turmoil. Tenderly, he brushes your hair back, long fingers lingering on your cheek.
“You might be right about the long distance thing not working,” he admits quietly. “I don’t want to give up on us but… I guess it makes sense to. We’re young, we’ll be busy - how many high school couples even last a long distance?”
“Not many, I don’t think.”
“Right. Then, for tonight, I want you to pretend with me. Let’s pretend that you’re not leaving me next week, and that we’ll see each other tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that.”
“Will that help?” you ask sadly. He smiles ruefully and shakes his head, his dark hair bouncing with the action.
“No. But I don’t wanna be sad about you going just yet.”
And you do just that. You talk and laugh, share stories and snacks, holding onto each other all the while through kisses and giggles. It’s pure bliss, this little bubble you’ve blown around yourselves in Kuroo’s bedroom.
But it’s sullied by the ticking of the clock on his wall that you can’t help but repeatedly glance at. And as thatclock nears midnight and you know it’s time to leave, your heart begins to ache desperately.
His hands rest on your hips as you stand before his closed door. When your lips meet, it’s not like your usual goodbye kisses, which are sweet and chaste. This kiss quickly becomes a deep, needy, yearning thing that you can’t pull yourself out of. You drown in the sensation of his slightly chapped lips, get lost in the taste of his still-shy tongue, melt right into the contours of his body.
You don’t even realise the two of you are crying until you pull away. You’re breathless and sobbing a little, clinging to him so tightly you’re sure it hurts him, but it doesn’t matter.
Leaving hurts more.
“I don’t wanna go,” you whisper. “I wanna stay with you.” He kisses your tears away, resting his forehead against yours and squeezing your frame.
“I’m not dying or anything, why are you crying?” he teases wetly.
“You’re crying too, dumbass.”
“So what if I am?” he sniffles, pressing tender kisses to your forehead. “My pretty girl’s leaving me forever.”
“I don’t want to, Tetsu.”
“I know, but you’ll be okay, baby. We’ll be okay,” he says, shushing you gently, but neither of you believe it for a second.
And why would you?
You’re 18. Young and stupid. Freshly graduated with the world at your feet and the whole of adulthood stretching on before you, a winding path that you can’t fully see.
And yet, this is your world, right here in your arms.
All this time, he has been by your side, naturally, but he won’t be following you into the great unknown, as much as he wishes he could. He’s seeing you off on your journey now, parting ways with you as he embarks on his own, in a different direction, even though he wants you to stay with him. He watches you from the front door as you leave, blowing you a kiss and yelling his love after your retreating figure.
This is what it means to grow up.
This is goodbye.
And you both fucking hate it.
It takes a good while to nurse your broken hearts, made more difficult by the fact that you have to adjust to new environments and new people as you heal. But you grieve and you grow and the years pass by in the blink of an eye.
Seven years have passed since that tearful night. Seven years of study, study, study and then work, work, work. You moved back to Japan a year or so after graduating university, homesick from so many years away. You visited during that time of course, but it wasn’t quite the same as living out your daily life in the hustle and bustle of Tokyo.
And maybe, just maybe, a small part of you dreamed that you would bump into him. Wishful thinking perhaps, but you couldn’t quite tamp down all of your feelings towards the rooster-haired captain. There’s still a small flame flickering in the depths of your heart just for him and it’s this very flame that keeps you warm on some nights.
You wonder if that same flame burns in his own chest for you.
The convenience store is a welcome reprieve from the summer heat that bears down on you intensely. The sounds of passing cars is muffled as the doors slide shut behind you, leaving only the whir of the air conditioner and the gentle warble of a pop group playing quietly over the radio to accompany you.
You drift towards the back where the fridges are situated, absently inspecting bags of snacks as you pass and touching a box of pocky before changing your mind and continuing on. There’s a blast of cool air when you pull the fridge door open and hold it there with your hip as you scan the selection of beverages on display. There’s one in particular that catches your eye, conjuring a memory forth from the depths of your mind.
With a nostalgic smile, you reach in and grasp the can of lychee soda, only for your hand to bump into one much larger than yours.
“Ah, sorry about that,” says a smooth, deep voice. The sound sends a chill down your spine that has nothing to do with the temperature of the open fridge.
But it can’t be, can it?
Hopeful curiosity lifts your head to look for the owner of the voice, and you have to crane your neck a little just to look up at his face. Dark hair, still messy, but more tamed than it was in his youth - now it looks deliberate. Sharp jaw, elegant nose, and those eyes, warm hazel - almost amber, and strangely feline in shape. He doesn’t look the same but he doesn’t look different either. Just a taller (somehow) more handsome and mature version of his younger self. In a suit no less, only it’s paired with volleyball shoes.
You would probably laugh out loud if your mouth didn’t feel so dry, like you’ve just eaten a fistful of sand as you gape up at him with a mix of shock and wonder.
“I must be dreaming right now,” you whisper to yourself and the man sniggers, still inspecting the can in his hand.
Oh. That’s still the same.
“Are you talking to-“ he falters as his eyes flick to your face. “-me.”
His face mirrors your own and you’re not sure how long you stand there, fridge wide open, until someone mumbles an ‘excuse me’ and shakes you from your respective trances. You wait for them to leave before you dare to look at each other again.
“Tetsu?” It feels a little foreign saying his name again after so long. And yet, the weight of it sits familiar on your tongue, the roll of each syllable feels natural as it passes your lips.
He says your name and you wonder if it tastes the same to him, if it reminds him of home the way that his does for you. “Is that you?”
“Uh, yeah. Hi.” You awkwardly raise a hand in greeting.
“Hi,” he says, sounding as dazed as you feel. “Almost didn’t recognise you. You look… different.”
“So do you. It’s been a while,” you offer lamely. He was never this hard to talk to, but you suppose that time is a thief that is impossible to catch, stealing the ease that you built your relationship on.
“Yeah. It has.”
“Seven years,” you murmur with a touch of melancholy.
“Where did the time go?”
You both fall silent, there in the snack aisle of a convenience store in Tokyo, in the middle of summer, wondering what you should say next. Wondering what is appropriate after so much time has passed.
Because you’ve both grown. A lot. Physically, mentally, emotionally. You’re hardly the same people you were seven years ago. It’s stupid of you to even entertain the idea that he could fall in love with you again, but you entertain it all the same.
You’d never admit it aloud, but on some of your loneliest nights, you fantasise about what could happen if you met again. How you’d fall back together so easily, how you’d be so in love, the way that you used to be. Maybe you’d move in together, get a pet together, maybe you’d get married and have a family. Maybe you’d grow old with the only boy you’d ever loved so earnestly, so boundlessly, despite being so young.
It’s Kuroo that finally breaks the silence.
“Let’s catch up,” he says, with a crooked grin. “For old times sake.”
You pay for your drinks and head back out into the sun. It’s odd, you think. Tokyo is familiar and Kuroo is familiar, as well as the drink in your hand but it still feels strange to you. You’re in a different part of the city because of your new job and the brand of soda you like has changed their recipe.
And then there’s Kuroo.
His gait is, regrettably, longer than it used to be, as is the height at which you stand next to him. He sounds different, dresses different, he even smells different. Back then, he used to smell like far too much body spray and his grandma's honeysuckle detergent. Now? The scent coming off him is expensive and thoroughly masculine - you might even dare to say it’s incredibly sexy.
You cast him a sideways glance, belatedly noticing the can that he sips at. It’s identical to yours and you can’t help but scoff aloud.
“I thought you said that stuff was full of sugar?” Kuroo turns to look at you curiously as you both slow to a stop and point at him accusingly. “Remember? You used to nag me for drinking it.” Your lips push out in a pout at the memory of his lecture, and he laughs.
The sound transports you back to high school, to a time where you’re still boyfriend and girlfriend, two peas in a pod, no longer clad in office wear but in your school uniforms. Kuroo’s hair is horrendous, tangled hopelessly by the wind that blows through it. You’re holding hands and bickering, but still laughing. Always laughing.
“That’s cos you used to drink it every day,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting in that goddamn smirk. “And it’s addictive.”
“Oh is that right? Well, I did tell you as much back then. How the tables have turned!” you proclaim triumphantly. He rolls his eyes, amused by your smug expression.
“I’m not addicted to it,” he says, quirking his brow challengingly. “I still don’t like it.”
“Oh really? Then why did you get it?” You narrow your eyes at him as he shakes his head, smile softening.
“It’s a secret,” he says, tapping his nose with a wink before he continues to walk. Your eyes narrow in a glare as you jog after him and attempt to fall back in step with him.
“Oi, slow down! Long legged bastard,” you grumble under your breath.
“What did you just call me?” he asks quietly. You freeze, clapping a hand over your mouth as realisation dawns on you. You can’t joke with him like that anymore. Not after you put millions of miles between you. What boundaries lie there now?
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” He cackles at the look on your face, doubling over right there in the middle of the street. You fix him with a deadpan look, arms folded over your chest, thoroughly unimpressed.
“I’m kidding, relax! God, you should see your face, baby!”
This time, you both freeze, and the illusion shatters. A soft pink stains his cheeks as his ears and brain catch up to his tongue and heart. 25, and he’s still not immune to blushing. 25, and it still makes him look hopelessly sweet. 25, and it still makes your heart swell.
“I didn’t- shit, I’m so sorry! It just slipped out,” he yelps, panic widening his eyes. You’re not quite sure what to say to him. The pet name echoes in your ears and thunders in your chest, reawakening butterflies with Kuroo’s name scrawled across the delicate wings. Your own cheeks feel warm.
“Easy mistake to make,” you say, biting back a shy smile. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s call it even.” He clears his throat nervously and sips at his drink to give himself something to do, your own fingers fiddling with the carrier bag in your hand until he finally breaks the stifling silence.
“I er, I know a pretty good ice cream place about 5 minutes away from here. We can catch up there?”
“Sounds good.”
Your walk resumes and you’re both quiet again, but this time, it’s comfortable. The little bell above the door chimes and he follows in behind you to stand at the counter, poring over the selection behind the glass.
Kuroo has brought you to a quaint little spot, tucked away between an electronics shop and a bakery. Inside, it’s cool and vibrant, the pastel palette running through the airy space brightening your mood a little. It doesn’t take either of you long to make your choices, taking your cones and finding a little booth in the back to sit at.
Perhaps it’s a little odd for two adults in their mid-twenties to be sitting in an ice cream parlour, nibbling at ice cream cones and searching for something to say that sounds half-way cool and nonchalant. But Kuroo did say this was for the sake of old times, and what better way to plunge you into the past than a quiet booth and some ice cream.
“So…” you start, but you don’t know how to finish.
“So…” he copies, drawing the word out. You raise an eyebrow at him, licking at your ice cream and he mirrors you, holding the expression before you both snort and burst into laughter.
“Fucking hell, stop making it weird!” you giggle.
“I’m not!”
“You’re making that face!”
“Speak for yourself! Look, I just didn’t expect to run into you of all people on my way home. I’m still processing it,” he says with a grin.
“Neither did I!” His eyes soften as he smiles, crinkling at the corners.
“So how have you been?”
And just like that, you feel right at home again. You talk and laugh, smile brighter and bigger than you have in years. The cones have long since been polished off and you’re still occupying the booth, any concept of time tossed out the window. It’s not long before your catch-up of the present bleeds into reminiscing on the past.
“And then Bokuto slipped and fell right into you!”
“I remember that, I would’ve fallen flat on my face if you hadn’t caught me. You never did let that go, I swear, you gloated about it for ages,” you complain, pouting in annoyance.
“You have to admit that line was pretty smooth!” He puffs his chest out a little with pride and you roll your eyes.
You mock his deep timbre. “‘Are you falling for me?’”
“It was cool!”
“It was cheesy!” you both laugh at the memory, letting the feeling of nostalgia linger over you like a warm blanket just a little while longer.
“We had some good times together,” he hums and you nod, smiling wistfully at the memories you’ve been submerging yourselves in.
“We did.”
“I miss those days.”
“Me too.”
“No, I mean when we were together. I really loved you,” he says quietly, warm eyes burning with sincerity.
“I did too.” You heart thuds heavily in your chest at the implications in his gaze but you force yourself to rein it in and squash the hope that flutters there. “But we were so young. Immature. Naive.”
“So?” He almost sounds offended. “Does that mean it didn’t count or something?”
“No, I’m not saying that.” You shake your head and sigh. “I’m just saying, I’m sure you’ve dated other people since then and fallen in love again. Real love, not the silly delusions of a teen.”
“Our love was real.”
Your breath hitches then at the fire in his eyes, a fire that you recognise, the same as the one that burns quietly in the depths of your heart. You try to shift his attention.
“Aren’t you dating anyone right now?” you ask hesitantly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.
“No,” he says fiercely, but then he cools a bit and leans back in his seat. “No. I’m not. I’ve tried, but… Nothing ever stuck. How about you?”
“I tried too,” you murmur. “But I couldn’t love them in the right way, I guess.”
Not the way I loved you.
The air between you becomes heavy with words unsaid crowding the tips of your tongues all at once, piling against your teeth and begging to break free. Kuroo calls your name, and your belly flutters in the way that it used to.
He calls out to you again and it’s so soft, so Kuroo, that your heart aches. You watch him carefully, waiting for him to keep speaking with bated breath. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Yeah.”
He sucks in a shaky breath and adds another secret to the pile housed deep in your heart, still kept firmly under lock and key.
“I drink them when I miss you.”
You pause, brow furrowing in confusion.
“Drink what?”
Kuroo’s expression turns exasperated as he runs a hand through his neater-than-it-used-to-be hair. The blush from before returns, tinging his ears red with embarrassment.
“The lychee soda.”
Oh.
Oh.
“So… today?”
He nods sheepishly, covering his face with his hand.
“How was I supposed to know I’d bump into you?” he mumbles again. You say nothing, marvelling at the man before you instead. Still as sweet as the day you met him. Years have passed, and so many things have changed. And yet, somehow, Kuroo remembers you the way that you remember him.
No, not remember, he misses you the way that you miss him, still finding comfort in the warmth of that flame, just like you. Still finding solace in bubbles and sugar.
“Tetsu-”
“Weird right?” he chuckles humourlessly and you shake your head no.
“No, it’s not weird. Not really,” you say, fiddling with the napkin in front of you. “You did say you wouldn’t forget me.”
“True,” he hums.
“And if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t forget you either.”
“You didn’t?” A warm flush creeps up your own cheeks this time as you nod and give in a little.
“I missed you, Tetsu. I know it’s been such a long time, and holding onto hope that I’d see you again is probably really fucking stupid, not to mention unhealthy, but-“
“I couldn’t help it,” you say simultaneously.
Slowly, identical giddy grins spread over your faces and you find yourselves giggling like teenagers all over again.
“Let me take you out tomorrow,” Kuroo says suddenly with that lopsided grin that you fell in love with all those years ago.
“On a date?”
“If you want it to be. Or even just as friends. But seeing you again, it’s just-“ you halt him with a raised hand, a teasing grin playing at your lips as your head cocks to the side.
“Tell me about it on our date, yeah?”
And he does.
The date with Kuroo is truly magical. He’s a picture perfect gentleman, coming to pick you up with a bouquet of fresh, red roses in hand and a happy grin on his face. It seems that both of you have dressed to impress, Kuroo dressed neatly in a crisp white shirt and charcoal trousers whilst you spent hours scouring your wardrobe for the perfect dress. It’s honestly a little ridiculous when you think back on it since you knew each other so well already, so why would you need to impress each other?
But that was then, and this now.
There seems to be a goal in Kuroo’s mind as he helps you out of his shiny black Jaguar, leading you into a fancy looking restaurant. It’s clear he’s spared no expenses for the occasion. You eat and drink and laugh, allowing yourselves to get pulled back together again, like magnets. The flames in your hearts burn brighter, more fiercely with each passing moment, until you can feel the warmth spread throughout your bodies, lapping gently through your veins.
As the night draws to a close and he drives you home, full, content and sleepy, you feel more whole than you’ve felt in the entirety of your adult life. You glance to the side, taking in his beautiful profile, that exquisite jawline and the curve of his lips that you want to feel on yours again.
You wonder if they taste the same as they did back in high school. If they still taste like the gum he used to chew or those ghastly health drinks he was obsessed with. Sometimes, he’d chase you around campus right after eating mackerel for lunch, threatening to kiss you with the strong flavour of fish still lingering in his mouth. Are his lips still a little chapped? Does he still grin into his kisses as his fingers rest on your cheek? Make that sweet little humming noise in the back of his throat that sounds like laughter? Does he still wear a goofy smile when he pulls away?
All thoughts of kissing him are shaken from your mind as he kills the engine and walks you all the way to the front door of your apartment. You unlock the door and turn to say goodbye, a little sad that the night has to end. Kuroo rests his arm against the door frame above his head, car keys dangling from his hand and a lazy smile sitting comfortably on his handsome features.
“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he says.
“Me too.”
“I guess I’ll see you soon?”
Those words should be followed closely with a goodbye, but Kuroo lingers, as does his gaze, flicking from your eyes to your lips and back again.
“Kiss me if I’m wrong,” he says after a beat of silence. “But you kissed me on our first ever date, didn’t you?” You hum thoughtfully, an impish grin rounding your cheeks.
“No, actually I didn't. It was the second date and it was on the cheek cos you looked like you were ready to pass out when I got close to your lips.”
“I did not!” he whines indignantly.
“Did too,” you shrug.
“That’s bullshit,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I’m wrong so now you have to kiss me.”
“Real smooth, Tetsuro.”
“I know, now if you’ll let me, I want to overwrite that first kiss.”
“How? We’ve kissed a million times before,” you argue.
“That was then, this is now. We’re restarting this whole thing,” he insists.
“We are?” You raise an eyebrow in question and he simply nods, cocksure and firm.
“We are.”
“Says who?”
“Me.” Kuroo takes a step forward and suddenly there’s very little space between you. “So? Will you let me have a redo?” he murmurs.
“You can try. The first time was pretty sweet. It’d be pretty hard to top it.”
“Challenge accepted, baby.”
With that, his hands slip around your waist and pull you flush against his firm body. When his lips slant down over yours, you still have to reach up to meet him, eyes fluttering shut as your lips meet after seven years apart.
He is all you remember and so much more, so much better than before, as if that were even possible. You learn that he tastes sweet like dessert, but he still tastes like your Tetsu. He grins against your lips as you press closer and you praise whoever the fuck convinced him to regularly use chapstick because his lips are so soft and pliant against yours. His kisses are dizzyingly good, addictive and sensual, his fingers resting against the back of your neck whilst his palm sits along the curve of it. You sigh into his mouth, one of relief, because you’re finally home.
Where you belong.
As fate intended.
When Kuroo pulls away, there’s a sparkle in his eyes and he smiles so sweetly you think that sugar will never taste the same again. He brushes a stray lock of your hair back, letting his thumb linger over the warm apple of your cheek.
“Can I say something?”
“Yeah.”
“I have to warn you, it’s a little unconventional for a rebooted first date,” he chuckles.
Then, his expression becomes a little more serious. “But I really, really fucking love you and I don’t think I ever stopped.” Your heart swells and spills over as his grip on your waist tightens.
“I love you too,” you say, and you really can’t resist so you tug him back towards your lips and kiss him again.
“So.”
Again
“So.”
And again.
“So much.”
Fate nods and lets you love him all over again.
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