#NOTJUST ONE

[rick-ety]

marching band for 12 hours today I’m so happy and not going to get burnt out yay yay yay yippee lalalalalalalalalalalaalalalalalala

[bsdtakanenohana]

*when fighting Lovecraft*

Dazai: it’s up to you if you want to use Corruption or not

Chuuya: that normally means it’s not up to me

Dazai: *had previously done things to push Chuuya to wanting to use it by NOT using his intelligence which thinks of things from different angles to find other ways, gave up right away even saying “let’s give up and die” and pretended to be more hurt to scare Chuuya. All of which combined and when seeing that Chuuya said it wasn’t his call to make shows that these were done to manipulate Chuuya*

Dachuu shippers: the Lovecraft battle is proof of the strength of SKK’s partnership and its major ship material 😍

Also dachuu shippers: if you say Chuuya is too stupid or naive to know he’s being manipulated by Mori to stay in the Port Mafia you don’t know his character at all, you’re the stupid one, don’t speak on him. He knows when he’s being manipulated!

Chuuya: I was manipulated by Dazai

Those same fans suddenly can’t read or hear

[doudouneverte]

2nd choice, but 1st place

a/n: okay I was very inspired for that I don't know why. And it should be my last last football (soccer) fic at leat until the world cup

*not my GIF*

Pairing: VfL Wolfsburg (frauen) x Putellas!Reader; Alexia Putellas x sister!Reader; (hint of Lena Oberdorf x Reader)

Summary: You need to prove that you're notjust La Reina's little sister.

Type: Fluff

Warning: nothing

word count: 5433 (i was inspired sorry)

note:

(///////) means change POV to TV pov (I tried something very new)

----------

Dreams are made to come true, they say. Yours just started when you signed your first professional contract for Barcelona. You were nervous, but you were not alone; there was your sister, the great Alexia Putellas, and the one who will become your best friend, Ona Batlle. But your debut was not really like you expected; according to your previous coach, you were too much like your big sister, and the club decided to send you on loan to Levante.

You should be angry by their decision, but you got more play time there, and you were with Ona, at least until she joined the WSL. The defender tried to convince you to go with her and maybe play with her in Manchester, but you declined. You were really happy with your new club, and they even decided to keep you after the left back left.

But fortunately or unfortunately for you, Barcelona wanted you back after their Champions League final win against Chelsea. At first, you thought that they finally found an interest in you, but you learned late that it was more of a way for them to be sure you didn’t sign with the rival, Real Madrid.

At the end of the 2022 season, you received some calls from a lot of clubs who were ready to sign you next summer. Honestly, you didn’t know how they could recruit a bench player, but two clubs caught your attention: Manchester United and VfL Wolfsburg. When you talk about it with your sister, it’s unnecessary to say she wasn’t really happy with it.

You were with the team celebrating the three trophies won this season. You talked a little with Ingrid and Fridolina; you three grew up close because they joined the club with you. After they gave you some advice, you decided to pull your sister away from the girls to announce your decision.

"But why?" Alexia asked, and you rolled your eyes.

"Do you really need to ask?" You were not really shocked by the fact that she seemed oblivious to your situation; every time you played together, she looked as happy as when you were both children and you were trying to reach her level. But there is the problem: you were not that little kid anymore, and you definitely didn’t want to reach her level like you did in the past. "Listen, I already talked with the coach and everyone. Ingrid and Frido said that Wolfsburg is a great team to improve myself so I think I can try."

"But why? Is it because we lost in the Champions League? I’m angry too, but don’t worry; we will do it next year, I promise." She said, and you sighed.

"No, it’s not—" you groaned. "I mean, yes, I’m angry that we lost, but it’s not because of that."

"So what is it? I thought you wanted to win the Champions League together. I thought you wanted to show the world how incredible the Putellas sisters are." She said, and gave you a nudge.

"I want; I really want, but look at us. You won the freaking Ballon d'Or; you're the captain of the team and the national team. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really proud of you; nobody deserved it more than you. But look at me; I struggle to make my way on this team. Until I’m still in your shadow, I could never reach your level; it’s not your fault, but it’s just that no team needs two of the same players." You explained, and your sister stayed there, processing everything you said.

"I didn’t know," she said. You wrapped your arm around her shoulders and gave her a weak smile. "I’m sorry," she said with tears in her eyes.

"Hey, it’s okay; it’s not your fault; it’s just that you started to create your own legend here, and it’s a good thing, but if I want to improve my skill, I need to leave." You said, and she hugged you.

======

The final whistle echoed in the stadium; it's over; Spain lost against England and was out of the Euro 2022. It took you a moment to realize what that meant. The coach called you just before the first match to let you know you'd replace your sister because she got injured just before the competition, and now you were angry and disappointed because you didn't qualify your team for the next round.

You were sitting on the pitch with your head in your hands when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to meet Ona's eyes. She was trying to restrain her tears, but you knew her better than anyone else. You didn't say anything; you just stood up and pulled her into a tight hug before your teammates came a few seconds later.

After a little while, you went to congratulate the winners with a sad smile, and you could see some English players were truly sorry for you. Leah came and hugged you while you tried not to fall apart on her shoulder. "I'm sure she's proud of you." She whispered to you, and you nodded. When you broke the hug and looked at the crowd, you saw her. Alexia was there, visibly sad, but she gave you a smile to reassure you and let you know that she's proud of your match even if Spain didn't win.

Later that night, you were with Ona, packing your things, when Alexia knocked on the door. The defender took a moment to analyze and make sure you were okay before she left you two alone.

"You did great." Alexia said, and you hummed, not really looking at her to avoid a possible deception on her face. She grabbed your hand, and you finally looked at her "I'm serious, you were the best player today."

"Yeah, but that was not enough to win." You replied, and she sighed. She knew why you were acting like that, why this defeat seemed more important to you than anyone else, and secretly she couldn't help but blame herself for something she couldn't change.

"This shot in the second half was extremely precise, and if their captain didn't touch the ball, I'm sure you would score." She added and rubbed your cheeks with her hand. You lowered your head to look at her leg and the clutches she carried with her everywhere.

"How is your knee?" You changed the subject; you were definitely not ready to talk about it right now.

"It will be hard, but I should be back before the end of the next season." She said, and sat on the bed where your suitcase was while you continued to fulfill it. There was silence until your sister spoke again. "You know, we'll miss you." She said it with a sad smile.

"I know, but it's not like I'll change continents or anything. We will stay in the same time zone, and if you're good without me, we will face each other in the Champion's League." You joked, and she gently pushed you.

You spent the rest of your summer with your family before being called to Germany. In the airport, your mom and Alexia were making sure you hadn't forgotten anything, while Alba and you just rolled your eyes at them. When they called your flight, you gave them a last group hug, cautiously avoiding touching your sister's knee.

To your surprise, everything fit perfectly; your new teammates were really happy to have a new face, and the coach seemed to really trust you. Due to your position on the field, you didn't start every match, but it was definitely enough to grow some ties with your teammates and one in particular, Lena Oberdorf.

You were used to playing behind your sister in Barcelona, so of course you didn't mind playing defensive midfielder beside her, and it was definitely a game changer to have both of you on the pitch. The Bundesliga seemed too small for you two; rare were the strikers who were able to pass you and the German.

You definitely shined during the group stage of the Champions League, when everyone was prepared to stop Poppy or Pajor; they didn't know you were able to play as N°10, and every goalkeeper was shocked to see you so close to their penalty areas.

Because of your perfect performance on the group stage, Lena started to call you Prinzessin, or princess in German, because of Alexia's nickname. You found it funny and started to call her your knight because she always cleaned up after you every time you lost a dual.

Everything couldn't be better; you were one of the best scorers in the Bundesliga and definitely the one with more assists. While you were eliminating the PSG, your best friend was becoming the best left back in the WSL, and your sister started to work out to prepare for her comeback.

======

At the press conference before your first leg at home against Arsenal, a journalist asked something funny to Tommy Stroot: "What can you say about the transformation of Y/n?"

"What?" Your coach asked back.

"I mean, it's not the end of the season, and she already beat her record from the two past seasons. She was involved in four goals in the semifinal of the DFB-Pokal against Bayern. So, I'm asking if you know something about her transformation on the pitch."

There was a little silence; the response seemed so obvious that the coach couldn't even believe he asked him that. "I don't know if it's really a transformation; when she trained with us for the first time, she beat my expectations. I don't think we did something to her; maybe she just needed some confidence and play time. She's a young player, and it's the most important thing."

"Talking about play time, she got injured in the last match; do you think she'll get back in time for the match tomorrow?" Another journalist asked.

No, definitely not, but she works hard on her side to be available for the match in London, so I'm not worried." After a few rounds of questions, the conference ended.

To your surprise, the first leg ended in a draw. You were frustrated not only because you couldn't play but also because you knew you had to win the next match. In London, things were a little different; the Gunners were favorites, of course, but the atmosphere was almost suffocating, and things didn't go better when Stina scored the first goal. You were on the bench for this match; you were ready to play, but your coach wanted to use you as a super sub, and this man rarely gets it wrong.

At the end of full time, the score was 4-4 in aggregate, so that meant overtime, and overtime meant super sub. You just need 15 minutes to install fear in your opponent's mind. You barely lost a ball, and even when it happened, Lena always had your back. And in the next fifteen minutes, you did what you did best this season: assisted Bremer eight minutes before the end and qualified Wolfsburg for another final in their history, and more than that, because it will be against Barcelona.

Until then, you win the dfb-Pokal without surprise, and you place yourself as the second-best scorer of the season in the Bundesliga. At the end of the season, everyone's eyes were locked on one thing.

The day before the final, you were in your hotel room in Eindhoven talking with some teammates who had invited themselves into your room when you received a text from Ona.

======

Ona: good luck for tomorrow, Princesa. I come with Leila and Laia

You: you come to see me or the girls? 🤔

Ona: everyone 

You: okay but I need to tell you that we will win tomorrow, so prepare the girls to comfort them

Ona: I don't come here to see my best friend lose

You: don't worry, you'll not

You: I need to go. the girls need me to annoy the older. see you tomorrow. I'll let you touch the trophy 😜 

Ona: yeah sure 🙄

On D-Day, the pressure was at its highest level; the fans were expecting a victory, and you, the players, would do anything for that. In the changing rooms, everyone was tense after the lecture from your coach. You started your little routine before any big games to focus until you saw Lena beside you, totally nervous.

"Hey Lee, are you okay?" You asked after you gently paused your hand on her tight. She looked at your hand before locking her gaze on yours.

"I don't know. I mean, it's a big game, like, THE big game of the season." She said, and you chuckled. You found her very cute when she was stressed, but she didn't need to know that, at least not yet.

"Yes, but you played a big finale last summer, remember?" You asked.

"And I lost." She replied.

"Okay, that's not what I was expecting." You admitted; you sighed and gently cupped her face with your hands, forcing her to look at you. "Listen, I know it's a big game. I know how terrifying it is to face a team like that, but you're not alone. There's all the team to help you in the first half, and I'll be there in the second, whatever happens." You said quietly, and she chuckled, leaving you confused.

"I was more stressed about making your ex-teammates cry because we would crush them, but I think your little speech helped me too." She joked, and you rolled your eyes, even if that made you laugh too.

"Okay now, enter that pitch and show them what my knight in shining armor can do." You said, and all the girls cheered you up.

///////

"Good afternoon, everyone, I'm Dave, and I'll be your commentator for this final of the Champions League. I'm not alone; I'm with Selena, our consultant for this match. Good afternoon, how are you?"

"Pretty good, thanks, Dave. And yeah, we're here today for THE most important match of the season, one of the most equilibrated matches of this Champions League journey, at least on paper."

"Yes, on paper, the match would be beautiful to see, but we need to remind ourselves that FC Barcelona start this match with a little advantage. They were declared champions a few weeks before the end of the season, so they could rotate their squad and rest their players for this final."

"Of course, it will be a great advantage, but we saw how Wolfsburg can be really dangerous when we're not ready. I don't think Alexia and her teammates will take it easy; I think the defeat of the last year is still in everyone's memories."

"Talking about Alexia and her teammates, the players should enter the pitch in an instant now." The players started to walk out of the tunnel, and everyone was focused on one thing: the victory. You were on the bench watching your first team against your provisory team.

The anthem of the Champions League was playing on the speaker of the Phillips Stadion; the supporters started to be impatient, and you were more nervous.

"I will never get used to this tension just before the kickoff."

"I totally understand you; it never misses to give me goosebumps. I was watching the composition of the two teams, and I'm a little shocked to not see Y/n in the starting eleven. What do you think about it?"

"It's a surprise, but not as big as anyone thinks. We know that Tommy Stroot likes to use her as a super sub, and it's technically those types of matches where anything could happen that you need someone like her."

"Her big sister doesn't start either, but it's not really a surprise, so I think I'm talking for everyone when I say that we are really excited to see the both of them on the pitch. And now the kickoff."

—------------

Surprisingly, after the kickoff, the advantage was clearly for the German team.

"The Spanish seem to struggle to keep the ball out of their side of the pitch."

"Yes, but we know they can reverse this; we just need to—"

"Oh no, big mistake from Bronze. Pajor can shoot, and- she didn't miss! Wolfsburg take the lead with a missile from their Polish striker."

"I was saying that they can reverse, but this didn't go well, haha."

"It's not your fault; nobody can predict that Lucy Bronze would leave a little place for Pajor to shoot. But only after fifteen minutes, the teammates of Alexandra Popp can dream to lift the prestigious trophy."

—------

"—she's doing one of her best performances today, but– but right now the Catalans recuperate the ball! Graham Hansen is alone by her side. Oh, what a great move to push the ball in front of the goals; she can shoot—no, she passes, why she—"

After only fifteen minutes, everything needed to be redone.

"It's Patri!! After only fifteen minutes, ladies and gentlemen, Patri scored the equalizer!"

"That was the best way to finish this action, Dave. What a great goal and great performance from the Spaniard since the Germans took the lead! The solution didn't come from the strikers, so she just decided to take it into her own hands. 1-1, the real game starts now."

"You said it, Selena; she had the lucidity to stay away from any defender, and the finish is just amazing."

You and the girls were gutted; you didn't plan to win this game with a big goal difference, so any goal against you is barely a synonym of defeat. The real nightmare started only five minutes before halftime.

"A corner kick for Barcelona. It's shot very well, and—it's Rolfö! The Swedish give the advantage to the Spaniard only five minutes before halftime! What a goal!"

"Like you said, Dave, what a goal from Fridolina Rolfö. She used to score beautiful headers, and that's why corner kicks are one of the most dangerous weapons on this team. She just freed her from any defender and easily put it in the back of the net."

"You can see the joy erupting from Barcelona's bench; the supporters are uncontrollable, and it's totally understandable. The Swedish player may have just secured the victory with this goal."

In the next five minutes, your teammates pushed but failed to score against a visibly blessed Paños.

"And the referee blew the whistle; it's halftime, ladies and gentlemen. We will remind you of the score for the one who just joined. There is a 2-1 lead for Barcelona. Pajor scored the first goal of the game, but only fifteen minutes later, Patri equalized, and Rolfö gave them the advantage a few minutes ago."

///////

Back in the changing room at halftime, your teammates looked defeated, and after another lecture from your coach, the room was pretty quiet. The girls seemed to be trying to focus on the second half. Lena rested her head on your shoulder, and you intertwined your fingers with hers.

"Okay girls, you heard me out." Alexandra started to speak and gained everyone's attention. She gave a pretty encouraging speech. During this time, you were rubbing your thumb on the back of Lena's hand.

After the speech, when it was time to go, you unconsciously kissed the defender's hand and made her blush, but you were totally oblivious. "I believe in you; I know you'll be better in this half." You whispered to her, and she squeezed your hand.

/////// 

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back. We're here for the second half of this final of the Champions League, opposing Barcelona to Wolfsburg, and the Spaniard took the lead just before halftime." The two teams were going back on the pitch with a little change in the Spaniard's side.

"We were just talking about her before during the halftime, and Jonatan seemed to have heard you." You were one of the last ones to come out of the tunnel, and you were a little surprised to hear the Barcelona fan chanting your sister’s name, but you were more surprised to see her ready to start the end of the match. "No, you’re not dreaming Alexia Putellas will play her first minutes in this campaign! Now the question is how Wolfsburg will react to this."

It was not surprising that the Spaniard took the advantage at the start of the second half, and things went worse when what everyone expected happened.

"Bonmati for a cross in the box, the defense struggles to kick the ball out. Alexia recuperates the ball; she places herself and aims, and—it's a goal! Barcelona is now leading by two goals!"

The joy erupted from the benches of the previous finalists. All the Spanish supporters were screaming; it was almost done. Almost because it was only the fiftieth minute, they had to conceive the score for forty minutes, and your coach was about to make his biggest move.

Your teammates were about to start the end of the game until the referee blew the whistle for a sub.

"Things are going to be more exciting now. The coach of Wolfsburg just made his super sub, Roord, let her place to Y/n." As a reminder of the start of this second half, all the German fans were chanting your name when you entered the field. You found your position beside your defensive midfielder, and the match started again.

"I have an interesting statistic for you, Dave. Wolfsburg only lost three games this season when they aligned their duo Lena-Y/n. And what is most incredible is that Y/n is a former offensive midfielder, but she didn't struggle to play a little lower on the pitch. She's very versatile."

Yeah, it's very incredible, but you know what is very unbelievable?" 

"No what?" 

Is it that since they became pro, the Putellas sisters have played more against each other than with each other."

"Wait what?"

"Yeah, Y/n played for Levante until the last season, but she played only four games with her big sister on the pitch in Barcelona."

"It's quite funny because when we saw them playing together, it was almost like they had done it all their lives."

"Yeah, but I see almost the same result this season between Lena and Y/n, like now."

You recovered the ball, dribbled Aitana, and passed to Lena before being stopped by Keira. The German gave it back to you just perfectly in front of the penalty, and that led to you shooting and hitting the crossbar.

"She was so close to scoring only after five minutes of her appearance in this match."

"I think Tommy Stroot made a great choice to sub her on now; like we said earlier, even if she played alongside Oberdorf, she's a former offensive midfielder, which means that she can contribute to the offensive task. But she also gives hope to the team and their supporters; I think it's important too."

A few minutes later, Lena recovered the ball pretty high on the pitch and gave it to Sveindis, who made an incredible run, followed by Rolfö, but managed to cross it in the box, where you pushed it into the net with a big header.

"Ooh, what a goal! Y/n just scored a beautiful header, reducing the gap between the two teams."

"I wanted to say that the defense was too chill, but her placement was just perfect. She was quicker than anyone on this action, and I think it's not too bad to say she's quicker than anyone since she's here. She scored a striker's goal."

After thanking the Icelander and hugging some teammates, you were ready for the rest of the game. The game was more tense. The Barcelona players pushed really hard, but you were almost suffocating all their actions with Lena. Talking about action, your team just got one after a great save from Frohms, who kicked the ball far away. You controlled it and looked around to find yourself almost alone on the right side of the pitch, which means if you want to find a way to be in a good position to shoot, you have to use your left foot.

Alexia knew that; she was the one who praised you when you became more skilled than her, and what helped you was your ability to use both feet almost perfectly. Patri otherwise seemed to forget that because she was surprised when she got nutmegged; Rolfö just behind her tried to surprise you, but she got crocheted. You were running to the box, and when Mapi came to stop you, you noticed Popp alone was not offside yet, so you just lobbed the defender, and your captain controlled it perfectly. And she didn't miss her 1v1 with Paños.

"And Alexandra Popp for the equalizer!"

"What beautiful action from Y/n. She totally danced with her ex-teammates; she reached another level in this final."

You wanted to apologize to Patri, but you were stopped by the tall body of your captain, who pulled you into a tight hug. You laughed when she let you go, but not before she messed up with your hair like she had loved to do since the start of the season.

"I think we can say that Y/n is literally the definition of a supersub. She's implied in the two goals that helped Wolfsburg come back in this match. And from her expression, we can think it's not finished yet."

The German fans were chanting your name like you had been in this club for a few seasons now. That made you blush, and you made a heart with your hand to show them your love before the next and hopefully last quarter of the match.

Your sister and her teammates were more nervous and reckless in the last minutes, maybe because of the stress that led to some ugly tackles, which almost made you feel nostalgic about your matches against Georgia Stanway.

"The fourth referee announced 5 minutes of extra time. If Wolfsburg continue like that, maybe they could win in overtime like against Arsenal."

Only five minutes of extra time, despite all the fouls, was a miracle. Barcelona's players were more aware of you, and sometimes you were almost never marked by only one player. But you found a little breach where you forced your passage, and you found yourself trying to keep the ball from your sister and Ingrid. You wanted to pass, but they blocked every angle, so you took some steps back and decided to do it quickly.

You easily erased your sister with a dribble on her wrong side, and the Norwegian received your fourth nutmeg of the match. You wanted to pass to Pajor when you felt something collide against your foot, and you fell to the ground.

"Ouch, it's a pretty bad tackle from Mapi Leon."

///////

You were on the ground with your ankle between your hands, trying to ease the pain, when you heard multiple voices arguing.

"Hey, are you crazy?" You recognized Poppi’s voice.

"I didn’t do that on purpose, okay?" Mapi replied.

Lena quickly came to you and tried to distract you while your sister tried not to let your captain hurt her best friend. "Hey, do you hear me?" she asked, and you nodded. "Okay, good. The medics should come in a few seconds. Do you think you can continue the match?"

"Yes, of course." You spoke through the pain, and she nodded. Like she said, the medics came a little after; it was not serious, but it was not a good move from your national teammate. After the approval of the medic, you prepare yourself for the free kick.

A foul in front of the box, not so far, a little on the right side. Svenja took the ball, placed it, and looked at the players in the penalty area. You were still beside her, lightly testing your foot.

///////

"It seems that Y/n and Svenja Huth are talking about who’ll shoot this free kick. It can be the last action of the match. Who should shoot it for you, Selena?"

"Oh, it’s a tough question. We know Svenja can find a teammate in this situation; she took all the free kicks like always, and she was good like always. But, even if the last time she took a free kick was in her time at Levante, Y/n have pretty good statistics on this exercise."

///////

You took two steps back and a step to the left, took a deep breath, and focused on the goal. The referee blew the whistle. Alexia met your gaze; she knew. Svenja raised her left hand to indicate the near post. She started to run but stopped herself in front of the ball. She just took a step to the right, and you made your way to shoot.

Your feet hit the ball, and you saw it fly toward the goal in the opposite upper corner.

///////

"Y/n took the free kick and—she scored! In the last minute of this final, Y/n gave the victory against her former club! It’s totally unbelievable!"

"You say it, Dave! I thought Svenja would shoot it, but she let the young Spaniard, and for her first free kick with the wolves, Y/n just scored a beautiful one! She perfectly hit the opposite corner; Sandra Paños didn’t see it coming. This final is incredible, and this player is incredible. And the referee just blew the end of the match."

"They did it! Wolfsburg are Champions again for the third time in their history!"

///////

All the bench ran to you; you couldn’t process what was happening until you felt yourself being tackled on the ground by Lena, quickly followed by the rest of the team. You did it; you won your first Champions League. The tears started to run down your cheeks, and you wrapped your arms around the defensive midfielder.

"We did it," she said to you, and you nodded. She brushed away your tears and discreetly kissed your cheek.

You wanted to celebrate more, but you noticed your national teammates’ faces. You went to console a lot of them when you spotted Fridolina and Ingrid with Mapi and Alexia. The ex-Wolfsburg players noticed you first and were the first to hug you and congratulate you.

"We told you it'd be a good team for you." The Swedish said, and some tears started to fill your eyes.

"Hey, don't cry. It's okay." The Norwegian said this time, and you just gave her a sob as a response. They broke the little group hug when Mapi came closer to you.

The defender was the next to catch you between her arms. "I'm sorry for earlier." She and you shook your head to let her know that you weren't angry about that. Congratulations, hermanita." she continued.

"Thank you," you replied shyly. The girls patted your shoulders and left to see the rest of the team. It was just you and your sister now. She was crying, of course, and that made you cry too. When she noticed your tears, she just opened her arms wide, and you filled the space.

"You did it," your sister said, and you nodded against her shoulder. "I'm proud of you." She pulled away to look at you. "I meant it; you were the best player today."

"I'm sorry." You said while you were crying, but the captain immediately shushed you and pulled you into another hug.

Hey, no, don't be sorry. It's okay; we lost, and it's frustrating, but you deserve it. Listen," she pulled away from the hug and pointing to the supporters around you. Even some of Barca’s fans were chanting your name. "You proved everyone that you’re more than my little sister; you start to create your own history." You wanted to say something, but you were required to do an interview.

After that, the final ceremony started. You were a little surprised to be the player of the match, but Lena kept saying that it couldn't be anyone except you. While you were talking with the midfielder, Alexandra was talking with your sister. Their conversation was a little interrupted when they saw you chase the German with a big smile.

"Do you think I need to say something?" the Spanish captain asked.

"Not yet," the tall captain replied, and your sister nodded.

This third June, despite what everyone thought before this final, you led the Germans to number one in Europe. Your dreams came true.

[mako-neexu]

God, the idea of a not-insignificant number of Chaldea's Servants having genuine beef with Mash because "Master is like this BECAUSE OF YOU" is a kind of drama I didn't know I needed. They're torn between trying to get Guda into therapy and only barely tolerating Mash because despite their problems with her, she is unfortunately the only thing keeping Guda sane at the moment.

FOR REAL!!!!! and notjust mash to blame you know? guda being guda doesnt tell mash anything and so part of the blame is on them as well!!!

because this isnt healthy!!! literally guda sees "mash" (kyrie in Id) die a bloody death in front of them and the very first thing that they do upon waking up to chaldea is go-

"I'm fine. Nothing hurts." and "Mash, you aren't hurt are you?" like????? they literally dismiss their pain every chance they get and only the servants who've seen them through - as very narrow in number as they are - are able to confront and call them out about it!!!!

before this story ends, literally something needs to be done to address this issue... because guda is unable to imagine a life without mash at this point and if mash is truly, truly taken away from them one day.... it would be 100x worse than what we see in lb6 or Id chapter....

still, mash really is doing her best.... but unfortunately, guda's view of mash is that mash's growth as a person has also made guda want to protect her more. she's also become that normalcy, that purity they've lost, mash is also one of their last remaining loved ones that remember events and are close to them all the way back to part 1. as for mash's view of guda, she's always seen them stand back up again and again, after all, they were the one to hold her hand as shewas crushed by a coffin, stayed by her side as death engulfed their surroundings. an image of kindness and strength that still continues to this day... so its really frustrating that they cant communicate these to each other just yet because guda, as a Master as long as they are on this journey need to be able to "clear their mind and heart" in the face of despair that would normally break a human and thus they look like they are "strong" which mash cant address as they've always felt relieved whenever they're with her. theres also the fact that they've always pushed down their pain especially in front of mash because they dont want to burden mash and thats just???

yeah the cycle has to break before this story ends sdkjfnkljnsdflsfkn

[weeewooobitsfallout]

hey! It’s my birthday! Jew, how do you thingk peole in the wasteland celebrate birthdays and shit? Like cannonicly they celebrate Christmas and Halloween but what else?

How people celebrate birthdays in the fallout universe!

I did this by faction, hope that’s ok :)

Do raiders/watelanders know their birthdays? Their parents would have to survive through childbirth and to the point where a child can grasp the concept. Even then, would they celebrate? For many, being born in the post-nuclear apocalypse feels like a curse but do they still value their souls to the point they accept their existence? What about ghouls? Do they still keep living out of fear of the unknown, yet resent growing older with each passing day? Would they still care? 

Personally, I love the concept of raiders being akin to a kindergarten class when it comes to birthdays. Someone brings in a huge box of Fancy Lad Snack Cakes and they go to town. Most likely not presents, but a bit more respect and kindness. After all, isn’t that the best gift in the wasteland? To know someone cares?

The brotherhood would probably award the participating party with half a day off to do whatever. Many probably have family members who are outside of the brotherhood’s ranks, or in Fo4, back in the capital wastes. Giving time off (as a reward) can allow for communication between loved ones, boosting morale and giving something to work for. I can just see a knight stepping out of their power armor and heading downtown to see magnolia sing. 

No one in the institute would celebrate birthdays in a sentimental manner. Many will be recognized for a good job they did since they were first created/employed, but aside from that, birthdays will be scarce.

In the railroad, parties are kinda a big thing, mostly due to decon. Dez thinks it’s all a waste of time, but also secretly enjoys some levity. Lots of pranks and shananagins and cake smashing. It’ll be fun until someone runs in interrupting about some synth or safe house lost.  Then back to business as usual.  - (Side note: I headcannon the brotherhood interrupting during glory’s birthday party :). )

Minutemen is a bit tricky tbh. As a group, they definitely can spare a bit of supplies for a higher-ups birthday. If it’s just a regular soldier, they’ll probably get a pat on the back and a few nice words from Preston, with maybe so ammo. They don’t have a lot of time to spare, as well as materials to make it happen. 

At home, (with the individual families and settlements), it’s hard to day. Depends on the person’s situation and preferences.

I think a lot of people celebrate turning a year older on new years. I’m guessing NYE is kinda a big deal. Like, we survived another year! Isn’t that great? And notjust us, but the world as we know it. Things shift, but they also stay the same. But war. War never changes. 

Thanks anon for giving me this prompt!

[loola-a]

5 and 8 for the dark urge ask game?

hellooooo anon ty 4 the ask hehe

[these two asks ended up combining themselves into one long answer LOL i hope thats ok...]

unlike usual durge where the dark urge is. yknow. an urge. ive always imagined esther's urge is her literally hearing a voice telling her what to do. at the start she's actually very chill with it, she thinks everyone experiences this just like she thinks everyone has memory loss, so she's not super concerned.

the situation with gale and his portal is the first time after the crash that she experiences an urge she can't resist. it sort of forces her to open up about her urge to her companions which leads to her discovering that its notjust a Thing everyone has.

at this point, the only people esther's found are shadowheart and astarion, who shouldn't be trusted around impressionable kids so shart gets delegated to Unwilling Wine Aunt. bc of this esther gets attached to her super quick and after seeing her reaction to the hand situation she decides she not gonna do that anymore and she's gonna be better.

by the time she has to decide whether to save or betray the grove, her party is shadowheart, wyll and karlach so the decision to save them isn't actually very hard at all. since she knows she can't fully trust herself, she relies on them, especially wyll, to be her moral compass. she has a few slip ups over the game cuz she's only a little gal!! but for the most part she's very solidly on the resist durge path.

the most important branching moment for esther is the discovery of her past when you enter baldur's gate. through the entire game, esther has been convincing the party [and herself] that her parents are for sure 100% without a doubt waiting for her in baldur's gate. finding out that she's a bhaalspawn who technically wasn't born and therefore doesn't have parents is a really devastating moment for her :(. this, combined with karlachs reaction to her knowing gortash can either encourage esther to commit to resisting her urge or push her away and back to the cult.

within the space of maybe 3 days she's found out that no one in baldur's gate has been looking for her or waiting for her or worried about her. it's also made worse by the fact that both shadowheart and wyll's quests involve finding and saving their own parents. she decides that her companions will be her new family which means if they react badly to her pre-canon actions, she'll commit to becoming bhaal's chosen.

[thefvrious]

@prettytm:

He's got to stop giving into him, into his siren's song but every warning he refuses to heed. Like all the times before forgetting was so much easier with the hard rock body pressing into him. He's a commanding force of nature and when Billy was near him.. All else disappeared and for a little while he feels as if he could breathe. It's dangerous. But he runs into the danger named Lalo like a man who didn't feel fear or pain. Funny. As he's drowning in both. He's falling into his thoughts, into where the true wrongness lays and he's only pulled from the darkness of the bottom of a bottle and a bullet with his name carved into it when sharp teeth pierce into tender flesh and the older man comes away from his thighs bloody. He demands he stays with him, Spanish gruff and angry but Billy finds it's easier to focus on the contrast of crimson across his handsome face. "I'm here. Promise." At least for now he was.

Lalo’s not one to press when people are in their head, but he does try — in his own way — to get them back out; especially if it’s someone like Billy — someone who has his interest. Billy, unlike many, have Lalo’s unadulterated attention. He’s a puzzle, and Lalo likes that; likes it when people aren’t easy reads, and Billy might be the hardest.

He’s convinced himself it’s nothing more than a little fun between two deranged men, but that’s becoming increasingly untrue. He thinks about Billy when they’re not together, finds himself fantasizing about their next time together, and he’s notjust thinking about sex, which can be dangerous for the both of them. Lalo getting emotions involved is… well, not for the faint of heart.

He tamps them down, though, bites them back and swallows them like bile ‘cause he’s not ready to acknowledge it. Still, it’s obvious that it bothers him when he sort of loses Billy in the moment, his teeth sinking in harder and harder until those shining black eyes are focused on him again, see him again.

“Good.” He growls out, licking up a trail of blood as it trickles down that smooth, white thigh. He presses his lips over the bite then shifts upward, leaves another one. “Stay here. With me. Don’t make me jealous of the ghosts in your head, guapo.”

[magniloquent-raven]

Ao3 First Lines

Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to AO3 (Sort by date posted). If you have less than 10 fics posted, post what you have!

tagged by @mourntheantagonist 💕💕

1. enough of you to dull the pain

If it was anyone else Billy would have said no. Immediately. No question. He's got rules, and staying in familiar territory is a big one. Doesn't matter how good the money or the dick is, he doesn't let johns choose the location. As much for his own safety as Heather's peace of mind. He always tells her where he's going before he leaves the apartment. 

Until tonight.

Until Steve fucking Harrington.

2. come a little closer (i want you to stay a while)

Steve knew this Christmas would be different than what he was used to. 

Being surrounded by sprawling fields of shrubbery, for one. Clear roads and green squares of grass. Steve's never been the biggest fan of snow—it's just a whole mess when it melts in his hair, okay—but winter is odd without it. Mild and dusty, like a dry spring. Makes the twinkling lights and glittering displays of plastic evergreen seem out of place. Aspirational at best. Sad at worst.

But he came to California to be with friends, Dustin invited him along, actually wanted him to be there. That's the difference that really matters. 

3. what was that obscenity

Billy’s never been very good at resisting temptation, especially when it comes to his big stupid crush on Steve. 

He refuses to call it that, but that’s what it is. If it wasn’t he wouldn’t fucking be here, in Steve’s room, creeping on all his shit while Steve makes a beer run.

Not reading his diary or anything like that—mostly because he couldn’t find one—he’s just. Looking. 

4. i'm not brittle (well maybe just a little)

They don't talk about it. 

They shoot the shit about everything else and nothing at all. Music, books, which member of the basketball team is the most annoying—Billy claims insider knowledge makes his opinion superior, but Eddie knows it's Jason, okay, he had to grow up with that little shit and he is notjust mad about him dating Chrissy Cunningham, shut up Billy—and sometimes, rarely, they commiserate about growing up with shitty dads.

But most days he can't get anything that deep out of Billy. They hang out in Eddie's trailer getting high, and more often than not that ends with their jeans in a pile on the floor. 

5. i'm not quite myself these days

When Billy was four years old he got his first lecture about looking presentable. He’d been playing in the garden while his parents were getting ready to leave, and had gotten his nice pants all muddy. 

His mother fussed, a worried crease between her brows while she rinsed the dirt from Billy’s pudgy fingers. They were already running late and her in-laws weren’t the forgiving type. But as much as she hurried to clean him up while Neil was distracted with trying to find his keys (Billy had hidden them the night before, he didn’t wantto see his grandparents), there were still conspicuous streaks all over his clothes and his fingernails sported tiny crescents of packed soil underneath. 

Neil was not pleased. 

6. make this the start of something

“Carol broke up with me again,” Tommy says, words slurred by the alcohol in his system and muffled by his forearm squished against his cheek. He blinks up at Billy from where he’s half-laying on the peeling cover of his algebra text book. They didn’t bother clearing the homework from his desk before dumping three six-packs and a plastic bag stuffed with snack food on top of the mess. 

He’s usually a fun drunk, Billy wouldn’t have brought beer if he’d known it was gonna go like this. 

7. you'll never be loved (til you've made your own)

Billy spends the month of November trying to ditch the phantom sensation of ceramic shattering under his fingers, jarring impact up his forearm, the briefest brush with soft brown hair. 

8. feel me reel from the touch that i seek

Billy’s 90% sure it’s just another nightmare.

He doesn’t remember going to sleep, but he doesn’t always. Half the time he’s not sure if he’s awake or not; if he’s dreaming or just hallucinating. Not that it matters much which one it is. He’s stopped trying to tell the difference. 

This place has a way of blurring lines like that. He’s never sure if the conversations he eavesdrops on are bleeding through from the other side, or if he’s imagining shit just to feel less alone. 

9. i beg to differ

Ed spent a lot of time thinking about what he might say to Stede if he ever saw him again. Wondering if he should bother demanding an explanation. If it would offer closure or if it would just reopen wounds he’s spent months picking at. Or maybe it would hurt in new and unexpected ways. That would just fucking figure.

His plans, fantasies about giving Stede a piece of his mind and vague notions of coming across cool an unaffected, all go out the window the second he actually lays eyes on him again.

10. tell me i won't be forgotten

William Gilbert Hargrove—named for both his grandfathers—was born eight pounds three ounces on Monday, April 17th, 1967. 

It was, by all accounts, a beautiful day. Clear skies and a mild breeze, smiles all around as the little bundle of joy was passed between embraces. His aunts cooed over his wispy blond curls, his pretty eyelashes, his fat little legs and chubby cheeks. His mother beckoned, exhausted but enthusiastic, whenever someone else held him for too long. His father glowed with silent pride over the birth of a son. 

tagging @disdaidal @oreohamster @paperbodiesamongthestars only if yall feel like it 💕

[dumbass-404]

I need to write more long things. I've only written (under 5k) one shots for the past year (tbf I was shockingly busy with school and other things, but still). I have a few projects that I want to get off the ground, but idk which is gonna take priority.

Any advice on how to stick to a writing schedule, or to find motivation for novel length projects? Maybe I just need to let myself get obsessed, and I can't really force that, but any advice is helpful. I want to get on writing my first original novel, notjust fanfic. Thanks you guys!

[testblog495309420]

Before the Glitch: “Stylized Repetition” and Gender Performance in the Online Mainstream

By: Andromeda 🌊🪨

In the introduction to her book Glitch Feminism: A Manifesto, Legacy Russell writes, “Online, I sought to become a fugitive from the mainstream, unwilling to accept its limited definition of bodies like my own.” The “real world,” or the world “AFK” (Away From Keyboard) involves an immediate and fixed form of visibility, and thus pressure to conformity that the digital one doesn’t necessarily demand. However, as Russell writes, the “artifice of a simple digital Shangri-La” has been “punctured”– escaping the mainstream isn’t as simple as logging on. As all worlds do, the digital world is dominated by a “mainstream”, one rife with the “incessant white heteronormative observation” that Russell describes in her “AFK” to be fraught with. So what exactly does this digital mainstream look like? How do we “construct and perform” our “gendered self,” as Russell puts it, in the language of social media?

As a university student, meeting people typically demands 3 obligatory pieces of information: name (to be immediately forgotten), major (to be vaguely commented on), and Instagram account (to follow, and thus cement your new acquaintanceship. Also, to remind you of the name you just forgot). Despite what self-proclaimed “free spirits” and “casual-Instagrammers” will tell you, your Instagram is notjust a photo-album for you to look back on, or a journal in which to document the events of your life. That’s what photo-albums and journals are for, people! It’s an image of yourself designed for presentation, the digital face you present to old friends and new acquaintances alike:  it’s your own curation of exactly how you want to be perceived, neatly packaged in rows of three. On Instagram, “performing [one’s] gendered self” under “incessant white heteronormative observation” is the name of the game. Personally, I would even venture to say that any online presence is an inherently exhibitionistic one. If you disagree with me on that one, fine. Go write about it on your tumblr. 

What you can’t argue is that using Instagram, arguably the most popular social media platform today, is an exercise that begs for observation, for engagement, for the imposition of opinions and identifiers. In Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography, Roland Barthes (one of the only tolerable men that France has ever produced) writes, “every photograph is a certificate of presence.” Let’s for the moment table (read: ignore) the complications of technological tampering on the semiotic-ontological-whatever relationships between photo and subject raised by the likes of Stephen Prince and Lev Manovich (as neither of us have the time for that), and take what Barthes says at face value.

If a photo is a certificate of presence, we can consider Instagram to be a glass case of certificates of your choosing still and pristine as they tell the story of digital you, spectated you, ossified you. And here’s the kicker: you’re not only on display inthe case, but you’re on display as the person who curated it. If you’re a pretentious asshole like myself, you can think of these curatorial choices as the metalanguageof your Instagram (I warned you!). What, with whom, and how often you post all exist in the context of your choice to post at all, and the fact that every post has an agenda (regardless of what that agenda might be). Each post is a stylistic choice, a piece added to the puzzle of one’s digital identity. 

In Performative Acts and Gender Constitution, Judith Butler (who happens to be the celebrity hall-pass of a friend of mine) describes gender identity as, “an identity instituted through a stylized repetition of acts. Further, gender is instituted through the stylization of the body and, hence, must be understood as the mundane way in which bodily gestures, movements, and enactments of various kinds constitute the illusion of an abiding gendered self.”

I feel that this passage (along with facilitating my understanding of the hall-pass thing–I can think of bodily movements of various kinds that I’d like to repeat in a stylized manner with Judith) is easily translated to the idea of gender performance online. What are posts, if not stylized acts? Lighting, pose, caption–every element is designed to, quite literally, cultivate an image. The sharing of posts, how they accumulate and interact, are acts of stylized repetition that, whether we know it or not, construct our digital identities. 

As an example, take a look at this TikTok, which outlines a “recipe for a perfect photo dump.” A photo dump is a group of photos collected in one carousel Instagram post, typically designed to look effortless. But the detailed instructions in this post (including one “effortless photo”, an “outfit pic”, and a “personality pic” amongst others) exemplify a guideline for the exact kind of “stylization of the body” (albeit a digital one) that Butler describes, meticulously designed to communicate an identity. Even the arrangement of our Barthesian certificates of presence (the TikToker has graciously numbered each picture, so they may be ordered “perfectly”), is paramount in constructing our digital selves.

“The glitch,” Russell writes, “acknowledges that gendered bodies are far from absolute but rather an imaginary, manufactured, and commodified for capital.” What an unbearably fierce and pithy way to phrase how the body exists in the digital mainstream! From clean-girl to rat girl to coquette girl to messy girl (this one strikes me as particularly ironic–who knew there were so many rules to being messy?), it never fucking stops! These inflexible hole-in-the-wall shapes that we contort ourselves into through our online behaviour generate the same kind of frustration in me that led me to memorize the cool girl monologue in high-school. These trends and their proponents demand of us, as Russell writes, “a gender performance that fits within a binary in order to comply with the prescriptions of the everyday.” Unspoken rules and categories like these are just as, if not more, stifling than those in the mainstream that exists AFK. 

Russell’s manifesto calls to mind one of my favourite winners of RuPaul’s Drag Race, Sasha Velour, and her verse in ‘Category Is…’, the song performed by the season’s final four competitors. There are a few lines in there that I think Russell might enjoy: 

Wear a crown 

Fuck with gender

Bend the rules

Don’t surrender

Originally posted by ivanv

Sounds about right to me! The next time you see a clean-girl TikToker’s hair tutorial or diet plan or morning routine, just take three deep breaths, and think of Sasha. And you think hard enough, who knows? Maybe the force of your psychic energy will crack her forty-dollar gua sha. 

[sentimonsters1]

one of the scariest things abt that makima power to me is that you feel something is wrong before it happens. its notjust an instant thing even if the actual crushing is at breakneck speed its that you feel uncomfortable and scared and off before it happens. literally horrific i love it

[viovio]

i fucking Love halloween so much have I ever said that i love it so much

[fearlessstateofmind]

Blizz please do a McCree short

Sketchy sketchy cause I'm travelling, quite like this though!

[queer-asfuck]

Y'all

Cas' was actually involved in this episode!!! Wtf, writers you actually care about him now ???

[matcha-meow]

oh HEY, my first bajifuyu fic got 100 kudos on a03 so I've de-anon myself and posted it here as well~ enjoy!! TITLE: Your Latest Confession Is My Newest Obsession

PROMPT: Love Letter

SUMMARY: His friend doesn’t even spare him a glance as he keeps walking, “I’m his right hand man and his first line of defense. Nothing gets to Baji-san unless it goes through me first.”

OR

There’s something going on between Baji and Chifuyu - but Takemichi is just a simple bystander and he really doesn’t get it. Is this really how Captains and Vice-Captains are supposed to act?

---

The most confusing day of Takemichi’s life starts out completely normal - really. 

He gets a text message from Chifuyu, saying he’s waiting at the school entrance like usual. The only difference so far is that he’s being kept behind because of an overdue assignment and then after a stern lecture, he’s forced to leave his class later than anticipated. 

It’s only been a few minutes, but now Takemichi has to sprint through the hallways to keep his friend from waiting. Dodging other students left and right, Takemichi picks up the pace when he sees the gates within running distance. He then absolutelyjolts to a stop, nearly hitting the ground face down, when Takemichi realizes that it’s notjust Chifuyu waiting for him there. 

Chifuyu is talking to a girl in front of their school. She’s blushing, she’s nervous, she’s looking at anywhere but Chifuyu - then suddenly she’s pushing an envelope into the blond’s hands. 

The girl says something, shyly making eye contact again beneath her lashes and they are just so long and distracting. She’s fixing her curly hair and then messing them up again by twirling the locks with a pink manicured nail. She isso pretty, thinks Takemichi.

He feels a bit like a voyeur, watching this cute little thing pout her lips at Chifuyu as she's waiting for his response. A moment later she gets one.

Chifuyu smiles, gives her a thumbs up, and then tucks the letter into his school blazer. 

The girl covers her face in embarrassment, running back to her giggling group of friends encouraging her from the side.  

Takemichi isn’t stupid, he knows what he just witnessed - and congratulations are in order! He jogs the rest of the way, clamps a heavy hand on Chifuyu’s shoulder, and says

“ Dude ! She was so hot! Nice going, man!” 

“Um,” says Chifuyu, “...What? Why are you fist-bumping me?”

“C’mon, I saw the whole thing,” says Takemichi with a proud grin, “That girl gave you a love letter, right? And you said yes, didn’t you? So when’s the first date, huh?”

They’ve been moving along the sidewalk, with Takemichi’s arm wrapped around Chifuyu’s shoulder like they’re both in on a conspiracy - but Takemichi’s voice would have given them away with how loud he’s being.

“I can give you some pointers you know, Hina and I have been dating for a while now an-”

Takemichi gets thrown off balance when Chifuyu starts flailing, “You’ve got it all wrong!”

His friend scratches the back of his head sheepishly, looking off to the side.

“That confession letter wasn’t for me,” he says with an amused grin, “That was for Baji-san. Obviously. She just asked me if I could deliver it to him ‘cause Baji-san’s been skipping school lately and she’s been carrying that letter around for a while now.” 

Takemichi definitely doesn’t get it, “What do you mean, ‘obviously?’ Does this happen a lot or something?” 

Chifuyu shrugs, “Well, not a lot.” He contemplates the matter for a few seconds, “Maybe just twice this week, and a couple times this month.” He waves a hand in the air, as if brushing the whole issue aside, “It’s no problem to me, I live in the same building as Baji-san. It’s just a couple extra steps to drop it off for him.”

Takemichireally doesn’t get it now.

“And uh, you’ve just been playing messenger boy for him all this time?”

Chifuyu looks at Takemichi in wild disbelief, like he’s just announced to everyone that he’s a time-traveler. He also looks a little exasperated and maybe even disappointed. 

“I’m his Vice-Captain,” he says, like the title is already self explanatory, “Taking care of things like this is my duty. I’m not some messenger or mail carrier - I’m way more important than that.”

He then promptly takes out notone envelope - BUTTHREE envelopes from his school blazer and then systematically opens each one up, skimming the pages, making various sounds of disapproval, and then putting them back into the envelopes.

Takemichi watches this with no small amount of confusion.

“What,” he swallows and tries again, “What are you doing? I thought you said these were for Baji-kun.”

His friend doesn’t even spare him a glance as he keeps walking, “I’m his right hand man and his first line of defense. Nothing gets to Baji-san unless it goes through me first.”  

As they pass by a trash can, Chifuyu dumps the first two letters into the bin.

“Those girls weren’t any good,” he says by way of explanation, “They wouldn’t add any value to Baji-san’s life.”

Takemichi has no choice but to keep up - both with the conversation and with the stride. He’s walking a little faster now so he can turn towards Chifuyu and see his expression as they’re talking. He needs some more context here.

“Ok, but how would you know that? And does Baji-kun know you’re doing that? Did he ask you to go through all his fan mail, too? Are you vetting all his future girlfriends for him - is that what Vice-Captains do now?”

Chifuyu laughs, “The future of Toman is directly affected by Baji-san’s happiness. He doesn’t need to ask me to do this.” 

Takemichi just says what’s on his mind, “I really don’t get it. You’ve completely lost me.”

They aren’t able to continue the conversation, which might be for better or for worse, because they've reached their headquarters and other members are joining them in the park. The two of them make their rounds together, high-fiving comrades and exchanging pleasantries. 

At one point, Baji Keisuke joins them.

“Ah, Baji-san!” Chifuyu brightens up immediately, “This is for you,” he offers the envelope with both hands and looks for a sign of approval. “There were some others this week, but I don’t think they were worth reading.”

Maybe it’s his imagination, but Takemichi thinks Baji’s expression is a little strained.

“Chifuyu, you need to stop letting these girls run you over.” He smirks, “Are you any different from a personal messenger now?”

“Haha, that’s what I said!” shouts Takemichi, with a fist pump in the air, at last finding his validation.

Baji still takes the letter, doesn’t read it, folds it up twice, and then deposits it somewhere in his clothes. They don’t talk about it for the rest of the meeting. Chifuyu might grumble a bit under his breath, “If I don’t do this, Baji-san wouldn’t have any free time. He just getsso much mail.” 

Takemichi definitely pretends he doesn’t hear the blond justify the rest of the chores he’s taken upon himself for the sake of Baji’s quality of life. He’s also not really paying attention to the meeting and then suddenly it’s over before he realizes.

The upper heads are done discussing the upcoming changes, warning everyone to not pick fights with other gangs right now while tensions are high and the police are cracking down on criminal activity. There’s nothing planned for after this, so Takemichi is content to just say bye to his friends and head out - putting his weird interactions with Chifuyu aside. 

He gets as far as the park exit before someone pulls him back, none too roughly, but the grip is firm and tells him that his companion is stronger than him. Takemichi definitely doesn’t let out a yelp when he’s turned faced-to-face with Baji suddenly. 

“Hey,” says the First Division Captain, staring down at him with a menacing smile. 

 “B-Baji-kun?” 

“What did that girl look like?”

“Um,” he’s not sure he’s following this conversation - but the intimidation radiating out of the other boy has his brain working on overdrive and he's thinking fast. “You mean, the girl…that gave Chifuyu that confession letter?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” says Takemichi, “She was really pretty.” 

“Pretty?”

“Yeah like super pretty, don’t tell Hina, but like -” and then Takemichi launches into an explanation that is probably going into too much detail, but it’s been a really confusing day. That girl was so smokin’ hot and Chifuyu didn’t look twice at her. He didn’t even try to get her number for himself, he just handed her over to Baji like she was some errand, who does that?

And at first he thought Baji didn’t care too, but maybe he does. 

“...and like her skirt wassoooo short, I could totally see her-”

The hand on his shoulder pats him very roughly twice, almost awkwardly, signaling that it’s enough. The impact is so strong it almost sends him tumbling.

“Ah, I see,” says Baji with a quick glance over his shoulder and then, “And this is the girl that Chifuyu said was the best? This is the type of girl that Chifuyu likes?”

“Uhhhhhh,” Takemichi actually thinks about it all over again, “Actually he said it’s what you would like best?”  

There’s a moment of silence.

“Did he look interested in her or not?”

“...Yes?”

Baji looks at him in a similar way that Chifuyu had - like they were both very done and very disappointed in him. Perhaps Chifuyu had actually learned this look from Baji.

Takemichi isn’t sure what he’s done wrong, but he’s released from the grip with a tired sigh. 

“Don���t tell Chifuyu I asked about her, ok?”

Oh,

“Don’t worry, I won’t let him know you second guessed his opinion! She really was pretty - I didn’t get to see the other girls, but I think-”

“That’s not,” starts Baji, narrowing his eyes at something in the distance. “That’s not what I meant. Actually, nevermind.”

He watches as the other Toman member heads back to the group, most likely to finish up a Captains meeting. Baji throws him a quick wave over his shoulder to thank him for his time. As confusing as a time that it was. But at least Takemichi thinks he might get it now.

It starts to become a little more clear, the hesitancy in which Baji approaches his Vice-Captain, telling him to go home first. Takemichi is too far to hear their exact conversation, but he thinks he hears Chifuyu saying he doesn’t mind staying until the post-meeting is over. 

They’re walking further now, so he sees rather than hears Baji shake his head and invite Chifuyu to might as well come to the meeting then. If he’s just going to stick around, he can at least be useful or something.

As they pass by the park area trash receptacles, Baji dumps the contents of the last letter inside. It happens so quickly, so smoothly that it’s impossible for the boy beside him to have noticed the fate of Baji’s latest suitor’s confession. And maybe Chifuyu also hasn’t noticed what’s been developing between the two of them as well. 

Takemichi’s confusing day finally comes to an end, when he realizes

Baji hasn’t stopped looking at Chifuyu the entire meeting.