hey guys. i’m moving blogs bc this one has been giving me a lot of problems :( and i just thought that i could start completely fresh w the new year. so im just moving completely. i’ll give it out if anyone would like, ive alrdy posted on it, set up my nav everything, my writing. so yeah <3
thinking about “you haven’t met all the people who will love you” and like!!! you also haven’t found all the things that will make you happy!!!! there will always be new authors and musicians and artists whose work you will one day discover and love!!!! there will always be new hobbies and skills for you to learn and feel fulfilled by!!! there will always be new things around the corner that will bring sudden and unexpected happiness!!!!!!!!!!!
izuku slurps the last of his soba noodles loudly and obnoxiously, and you playfully push him on the shoulder.
"hey, enough slobbering all over my nice furniture," you tease. he laughs, lips still a bit wet and salty now pressed all over your face the moment he places his bowl down on the coffee table. the two of you are together for new year's eve by some administrative miracle with bellies full and in a spirited mood, in matching pajamas with the tv on, but you're no longer watching anything on the screen. instead, izuku now lays nearly entirely on top of you save for his arms propping up just his chest so he can take you in fully - your sweet, unmade face, undone hair, wanting gaze and slightly parted lips. you can feel your face warm, and your breath slow, and you ask him why.
"what are you looking at?"
izuku lets his body lower a bit more, but not enough to suffocate you with his weight and smiles.
"you."
"take a picture," you mean to be witty, but he smiles and rolls with your playful resistance and replies, "there would never be enough."
that gets a gentle scoff from you but he places a palm softly on your cheek, and you can feel your heart begin to race.
"i love you," he reminds you, as usual.
"i love you too, izuku," you answer automatically, truthfully, but you realize his eyes are shining a bit more than usual. suddenly emotional yourself, you let your hand caress his face too, one hand first, then two.
"i love you," he repeats again.
peeling your hand off him gently, he takes the fingers of your left hand in his palm, and kisses your knuckles, each finger one by one, enough that you can feel his love in every peck. you blink, then swallow thickly, hoping he'll tell you exactly what's on his mind and he does.
"i want us to be happy for a very, very long time."
"we will be," you whisper. a hope. a promise. a desire. a demand.
"we will be," he repeats. "every single new year. you'll always be mine, and i'll always be yours and the world will always be ours."
you smile, scooting yourself up to sitting, your eyes not leaving each other as your shirts go over your heads and your desire for each other overwhelms you.
jokingly asking gojo if he has any new years resolutions and he says “I don’t need to work on perfection but I do have one goal” and you roll your eyes and scoff, hiding a smile, assuming it’s something lewd or vain or silly about to leave his mouth. he sidles up to you and leans his head on your shoulder and wraps his arm around your waist and whispers right against the spot under your ear he kisses the most, “its making you happier and happier every year, which is technically my only goal forever.”
the year hasn’t even started and he’s already accomplished it. overachiever, you think while turning your face to kiss him.
The Challenge: Comment on every fanfic you read and enjoy in the month of January.
Every chapter. Every one shot. Every drabble. Every ficlet. Whether it’s on a personal website, a blog, or an archive. Whether you’ve read it a hundred times before or you’re reading it for the first time. Whether the fic was posted years ago or minutes ago. Whether you sign your name or leave your thoughts anonymously. Whether your comment is paragraphs in length or a few short words. Comment on every fanfic you read and enjoy in the month of January.
The Philosophy: Comments are what keep a fandom thriving and growing.
We don’t see comments as a transaction. They’re not a price paid for reading a fic. We see comments as an interaction, a way of building relationships. Comments are a courtesy, not a currency. [x]
Fandom is a relationship between dozens,hundreds, thousands, maybe millions of fans, and the only way for the greater fandom relationship to function, is for those fans to interact. One way to interact is by writing and reading fanfic. A writer prompts an interaction by posting their work; it is up to the reader to then acknowledge (or not acknowledge).
As one of our favorite blogs, @ao3commentoftheday, said: [x]
“Comment if you can, but don’t be bullied or pressured into it. A comment should be written in the same spirit as the fic itself: wanting to reach out to other people who love the same fandom as you do. It’s not easy to do that, I know, and I don’t hold it against you at all if you can’t.”
The Only Rule: Be kind.
Be kind to your fandoms’ writers.
Please note that this challenge is to “comment on every fanfic you read and enjoy in the month of January.” As our fandom forebears were fond of saying, “Don’t like, don’t read.” For FaFiCoWriMo, we have taken that one step further by saying, “Don’t like, don’t comment.”
No matter how well-intentioned, critique is useless unless it comes from a place of trust. Unless you know an author personally and they have specifically asked for your critique, please keep it to yourself.
It costs zero of your currency and zero of your time to not be a jerk.
Be kind to yourself.
If you do find yourself unable to comment on every fic (for whatever reason), remember this: we forgive you, zero judgement. [x]
wc: 931
summary: oikawa finally gets around to doing lasik.
contains: mentions of lasik eye procedure, lots of cheesiness, too sweet!! there are ants!!, vague mentions of ldr in case that’s triggering for anyone! could be read as gn!
a/n: super belated birthday post for our july 20 birthday boy! i hc that oikawa’s eyesight is bad and gets worse as he gets older -> why he needs to get lasik done!! i love him!! he’s a big baby!! also inspired by one of the prompts from @/nightprompts's list of prompts here.
comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
Oikawa finally gets his Lasik procedure done during one of his off seasons.
Thank god, because you honestly think it’s been a long time coming. His eyesight from high school has only gotten progressively worse since going pro—contacts drying his eyes out the longer and more intensely he plays.
There’s a sigh, then, “Wooow,” Oikawa squints, scrunching his nose to form (those cute) little creases near the corners of his eyes. You look at him, concerned, worried that the light is too much for him post-op. “I really can’t see, baby.”
You’re about to reach for the cap tucked in your bag before he stops you by the wrist, continuing, “You’re blinding me with your pretty.” There’s that (damned) smirk on his face when he says it too—like he’s been preparing for this moment since he finally agreed to getting Lasik.
Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if this was the exact reason he finally did decide on pushing through with the procedure.
You remove his fingers from your wrist and hold his hand gently, rolling your eyes as you lead him down the steps of the eye clinic. The corners of your lips curve up, a familiar warmth blooming in your chest. You should be immune to him by now, but your body seems to have a reflex that reacts every time Oikawa tries to make you blush.
He raises a hand to shade his eyes, blinking a few times before fully opening them slowly. And what a sight it is: you, looking up at him from the last step of the stairs, trying hard to hide the smile he knows he’s responsible for.
“Baby, stop smiling so brightly. I still have light sensitivity.”
You laugh, the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. He hops down the last step and lands right beside you.
“How long have you been waiting to use those?” you tug at his hand for him to lean down little, placing the cap you’d fished out from your bag on top of his messy brown hair.
“As if you don’t like it, meanie.” Oikawa pouts, and his lips jut out ever so slightly to expose light pink.
You smile even wider, shaking your head as you readjust his cap to settle amidst wavy hair. Your fingers trail down to play with the tips of his ears as they coax him lower for you to land a small peck at the tip of his nose.
“M’sorry. I like it, Tooru, but I think we should set another doctor’s appointment.” your eyes meet his as you hold back a giggle. He raises his eyebrow, questioning. “I think you might have caught a serious bug–” you pause for emphasis, “–the love bug.”
There’s a look of disbelief on his face, brown eyes wide and mouth agape. You burst out laughing.
“You’re even worse than me! And you call me cheesy?!”
You loop your arm around Oikawa’s as you walk to the car, still laughing as he continues to mumble about how you’re seriously starting to take after him. The walk to the car isn’t too far from the clinic entrance, but it takes you a bit longer considering you’re essentially guiding a 6’ 1” pro-athlete densely packed with muscle straight out of his Lasik procedure.
When you first heard the real reason why Oikawa evaded the procedure for so long, you thought he was joking.
You thought he’d held it off because he was busy, or that he was afraid of the entire thing (if ‘lasik eye surgery procedure video’ in his search history was anything to go by), but nope. Oikawa’s biggest concern was that he wouldn’t be able to clearly see you. For a day, or maybe two—at least until the aftereffects of light sensitivity disappear. He’d shared it to you so shyly, as if he hasn’t already bared to you the contents of his heart (full of volleyball, and friends, but most especially you).
And it’s cheesy (which isn’t far off from his usual sweet-talking), but it’s true.
One of the things Oikawa hates the most is missing moments of you—the in-betweens of breakfasts and skincare by the bathroom sink, those long tangents you go on about a dog you’d seen on the street in the middle of recounting your day. Since getting more free time in his career, Oikawa’s always chosen to spend those few extra hours on you.
It’s hard enough as is, spending half the year communicating through phone screens. To compromise that because he’d be ‘sensitive to light’ or something was enough of a dealbreaker already.
So here you were, tending to your big baby of a boyfriend who lives half the world away. You really wanted your trip to be a surprise—after all, lining up your holiday with his off season has only happened one other time despite your many years together.
But if this was the only way to convince your pro-loverboy that he didn’t have to worry about not being able to see you, because you’d be around him anyway, then so be it. Anything for him.
.
Once Oikawa settles in the car, he’s knocked out, sleeping by the passenger seat as you drive yourselves back to the apartment.
The next few days find you guiding Oikawa around like a baby learning how to walk. He’s constantly stumbling, picking up things he’s not supposed to, and ‘accidentally’ bumping into you any chance he gets. You know he’s exaggerating, but he wouldn’t be your Tooru if he wasn’t, and you love that about him. Fully. Wholly.
The door closes with a bump of your hip and toss your keys into the bowl. The mumble of the television carries through the hall, marked by the sudden, shaky sound of a cough. You slip off your shoes and walk into the living room, knowing he'll be exactly where you left him.
Kuroo is the epitome of pathetic. Dressed in only his pj pants, he's sprawled across the couch, limbs limply hanging over the sides. Used tissues are scattered on his chest and another one is stuffed into his chapped nose; it bobs as he turns to you and sighs.
"Hey, sicky." You muss his hair before dotting a kiss against his forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"Awful. Horrible." Kuroo's voice is starting to come back, but it's still mostly scratches and jumps. "Worse than death."
It's the flu - he'll be fine in a couple of days. "Poor thing."
"Yeah, I am a poor thing." Kuroo clutches your hands with the voracity of a dying Dicken's character. "I'm supposed to be in America right now. America, baby. The home of deep-fried twinkies."
You do feel a little bad; he was really looking forward to this work trip, but his company didn't want to put a sick man on a plane.
"There'll be other trips," you try, "And other unhealthy smacks."
"Sigh." He says the actual word. "Sigh. And it's so boring here without you. I cleaned the fridge so I didn't die of boredom."
You go to coo again, then pause.
"Wait, really?" You had been putting that off longer than you'd like to admit.
"Yeah, I did the whole kitchen." He sighs again. "And the bathroom."
"The whole bathroom?"
"Even the floor."
Oh. Your heart flutters a bit. You had been lamenting over having to scrub the floor. Kuroo is a good partner, but he's never been one to clean on his own volition. Hell, you can barely get him to pick his laundry off of the floor. The fact that he cleaned without being asked...
You're a little giddy over it.
"Would taking a bath in our clean bathroom make you feel better?" You push his bangs to the side and watch them bounce back.
"I already took a shower today."
Your fingers trail down to his neck. "Would taking a bath with me make you feel better?"
"Are you horny right now?" He points to the tissue jammed into his nostril. "Really?"
"I'm a simple woman: you clean my house and my pussy gets wet."
He barks out a laugh, only to cut himself off with a wheezing coughing fit. When he finally catches his breath, his poor little eyes are red rimmed and wet.
"I'm too sick to give you a good performance."
You debate kissing him, then think better of it.
"Don't worry," you say, "I'll do the work."
Kuroo cackles softer this time, toothy grin biting into his lower lip.
"Can we do that thing you never let me do?"
"Let's see how clean the bathroom is - then, we'll talk."
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