Would You Rather Shave Kuroo's Hair For A Dare Or Dye Atsumu's Hair Pink And Face The Wrath?
would you rather shave Kuroo's hair for a dare or dye Atsumu's hair pink and face the wrath?
#ask.revival 2024
i could never shave kuroo's head, and dying atsumu's hair pink would probably score me brownie points with his insanely hot twin so....yeah. i'd dye atsumu's hair pink
More Posts from Lees-chaotic-brain
me, quietly whispering to the ao3 page of an author who doesn’t even know I exist: I am obsessed with you
what kind of weather do you prefer?
#ask.revival 2024
oooh, i love hot weather because i really enjoy swimming and other summer activities, but i also really, really, love when it's foggy or raining so it's a toss up for me!
hai friend!! questions for u 🙂↕️
ur having a housewarming party!! who (if anyone) are u moving in with, and who are u inviting :0
is there any music or shows u've really enjoyed recently!
andd which of ur faves would make their phone wallpaper a photo of (the both of) u \o/
ask.revival 2024 :33
i'm moving in with suna (he's my bestie) and rin invites osamu because he knows about my massive crush
oooh, i've really been back in my mcr era lately, but i've also been enjoying waterparks!! as for shows i really loved kaiju no. 8, and just finished my love from the stars which is a k-drama!
yuuji. for sure. he's just such a sweetie
Wakui: *making the day Mikey dies the same day as all the cute Mikey and Draken moments*
Us:

𝙵𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚂 (𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄 𝙼𝙸𝚈𝙰 𝚇 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁)

summary: he overhears your friends saying something unkind
wc: 1.5k (oops this was supposed to be a drabble)
cw: mild swearing, reader has adhd, stigma against adhd
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“...What makes you think I wouldn’t lose it? I have the worst case of ADHD anyone has ever seen, you seriously think I’d be able to keep track of it?”
Your lighthearted laughter as you teased your friend floated over the din of the cafe as Osamu entered it, there to pick you up. Unable to tamp down his lovesick smile at the sound of your voice, he immediately perked up when he spotted you and began heading over to where you were sitting with your friends.
You had a little bit of trouble controlling your volume, so he had been able to hear what you were saying earlier, but since then you had gone weirdly quiet. But as he made his way over to you, he became close enough to catch the tail end of what your friend said in response.
“...I mean come on. You can’t just blame everything on your ADHD. Like, when are you going to actually take responsibility for your problems instead of using it as an excuse as if half the population doesn’t have it?”
He didn’t have to see your face to know what your expression looked like. Just like every other time someone said something shitty like that to you, he knew that the hurt would only show on your face for a moment before morphing into a sarcastic and uncaring mask.
“I’m sorry, what?” Your voice had lost its boisterous joy from moments ago, and that alone made him want to storm over there and tear that girl a new one. Unfortunately he was well aware of the fact that you preferred to fight your own battles, and loathed feeling like you needed some man to come in and defend your feelings.
“I’m just saying.” Your friend rolled her eyes. “You’re so put together, and one of the most intelligent people I know. When are you going to stop using your ADHD as an excuse for your terrible work ethic?”
While the first part of what she said sounded deceptively nice, the hidden connotations in the barbed sentence did not go over his head, so it most certainly did not go over yours. Remembering all of the nights he spent holding you as you cried because someone had called you lazy, or told you that you could do it if you just tried, he made a mental note to himself to remind you of how amazing you are every day. As if he didn’t already.
“Wow.” Your voice had taken on a mocking, almost cruel tone. While most people overhearing would think you’re just being really nasty, he knew better. This was how you protected yourself. You pretended you didn’t care and mocked the person for their ignorance, then went home and asked him to hold you until your heart stopped hurting and the voices in your head stopped talking.
You took a slow, leisurely sip of your drink, before slamming the cup back onto the table with more force than necessary. “For someone who claims to have undiagnosed ADHD, you sure don’t know anything about it. Just so you don’t embarrass yourself in the future by spewing more bullshit like this, let me give you a few pieces of information.”
Leaning back in your chair, you began ticking off items on your fingers as you spoke.
“One. Telling someone with ADHD to “just focus” is like telling a person with glasses to just see better. We want to, but we can’t.” You level a pointed look at her glasses and Osamu notes with satisfaction that her face is beginning to get flushed with embarrassment. You continue.
“Two. A lot of people with ADHD are actually insanely smart. They have to be. People in classes like ours who have ADHD and struggle with paying attention and staying on task need to be intellectually gifted to survive in school. It’s the only way they can keep up. Which brings us to point three.”
The overly sweet smile you give your so-called “friend” tells him that you’re about to say something you’ll regret later, but he can’t bring himself to stop you because anyone who hurt your feelings deserved what was coming for them. If that made him a bad boyfriend then he didn’t really care. He would just comfort you later and tell you that you aren’t a bad person for putting a judgemental asshole in their place.
“Point three: don’t go around telling people that you have undiagnosed ADHD. Like I said before, people with ADHD typically need to be smarter than the others in their class to keep up, especially in an engineering major. Which is exactly why no one is going to believe you. Frankly, you’re just not smart enough. You’re barely hanging on as it is. If you really did have ADHD you would have flunked out by now.”
Checking the time on your phone you gathered your stuff and stood up. “Sorry. My boyfriend is probably here by now. Although, something came up. I think you’ll need to find your own ride back. Sorry.”
Surveying the area where you had sat, you double checked to make sure you had everything, pausing and looking back over your shoulder just as you were about to leave.
“Oh, and by the way.” You shoot her a saccharine smile. “I really appreciate you thinking that I’m really put together. Unlike my intelligence, that’s all an act, so I’m really flattered that you thought that about me. It means a lot.”
With that, you turned and came face to face with your boyfriend's chest, nearly falling on your ass. One of his arms wound around your waist, pulling you against him and keeping you upright while the other snagged your bag and threw it over his shoulder.
“Samu?!” You look up at him in surprise and he just smirks and guides you out of the restaurant. Once you’re in the privacy of his car, you speak again. “...How long were you standing there?”
“Long enough to hear the bullshit she spewed.” You look down, pretending to pick at your nails, but he knows you’re just trying to hide the tears welling in her eyes.
“I really thought she was my friend.” Your voice is quiet and watery, completely different from the one you used with your friend just seconds ago in the cafe. “Maybe she’s right. I was probably too mean to her. I apologize to her-”
He was going to let you apologize, knowing that nothing he said would take away the guilt clawing at your insides, but then he saw the contact name.
“Her??” He pointed incredulously at the contact name. “The girl in there was her?? The one who was super mean to ya last year? I thought ya said ya weren’t friends with her anymore!”
Flushing, you tilt your phone away from him. “Well, I didn’t want you to worry. She got nicer, I swear.”
His eyes narrow. “Uh-huh. And what she said to ya back there definitely reflects just how much she’s changed.”
With a quick stretch of his arm, he snatched your phone out of your hand and slid it into his pocket, fending you off with one arm as he started the car and pulled out, causing you to cease your physical attempts at reclaiming your phone.
“Osamu Miya!! You give that back!! It’s not up to you who I’m friends with, and whether or not I apologize!”
“I know that.” He mumbles, keeping his eyes on the road. “I just don’t like seeing ya sad. And yer always sad when yer friends with assholes like her.”
“Oh, Samu…” Your voice softens and you take his free hand in your own. “I’ll be okay. Really. Honestly she’s probably trying to help me. She just wants me to fix what’s going on-”
“That’s exactly what I mean!” His knuckles turn white with how tightly he’s gripping the steering wheel, but his grasp of your hand is nothing but gentle. “There’s nothing wrong with ya! She says shit like that and you believe her! Yer perfect the way you are, and I hate that you spend time with people who make you feel less than that! I don’t care who yer friends with. I just want them to treat you well. The way ya deserve.”
You deflate, your grip on his hand tightening and he sees you wiping your eyes out of his peripheral. “I know. I know you're right. Can we just...talk about this later? I just want to be sad right now."
'"Of course we can babe. We don't have to talk about it at all if you don't want to. I'm just not letting you apologize to her because she doesn't deserve it."
You laugh, and the sound does things to his heart. "I love you so much Samu. You know that, right?”
He squeezes your hand tightly, knowing that no matter what, the two of you would be okay because you had each other. “I know. And I love ya a million times more than that.”

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