#but I couldn't have the energy for it today

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine, Ratio, Boothill and Sampo got body swap with reader

“Today, you're me and I'm you”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Boothill x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Platonic, Body Swap, Humor, Chaos, Identity Confusion, Transformation.

Warnings: Mild language, Slight violence(?), Confusion and identity crises, Possible mild awkwardness from body swap dynamics, Some references to body-related discomfort, Potential for humorously exaggerated reactions to new forms.

Aventurine never expected the day would come when his flawless, sophisticated appearance would be swapped with someone else, especially not with you. One moment, he was standing tall in his usual impeccable outfit, the swish of his coat echoing his poised elegance, and the next, he was you—dazed, confused, and staring down at an unfamiliar set of clothes.

The first thing Aventurine noticed was how strange the sensation of your body was. It was… compact, not the tailored form he was used to, and the clothes? The fabric didn’t fit him properly. He could feel his heart race as the disorientation set in, something he was not accustomed to.

You, on the other hand, stood in Aventurine’s body, completely overwhelmed by the sophisticated cut of the clothing that clung to his frame. The peacock feather glimmering in the hat, the soft thrum of anticipation in his chest—his body seemed to hum with a strange energy. Even his glasses—rose-tinted—felt like an alien accessory on your face.

In his new body, Aventurine felt the power of his manipulative charm. The confidence that had always been there, hidden beneath a smile, now flowed effortlessly. He stood straighter, the sharp wit in his mind already beginning to work. He gave you a charming grin. “It seems that fate has decided to have a bit of fun,” he said, his voice smooth and playful, though his usual cryptic flair seemed less effective in this unfamiliar form.

You couldn't help but chuckle, noticing how his charismatic aura still somehow seeped through, even in his temporary state. “This is… odd, but not completely unbearable, is it?”

Aventurine’s lips quirked, “Strangely… no. But I wonder how you’ll fare with my usual responsibilities?”

The two of you were forced into roles you never would have imagined for yourselves—he in your body, you in his. As the day wore on, Aventurine quickly adapted, using his newly acquired form to charm his way through meetings and strategic discussions. He realized how much of a game his life was. But it was your mind that guided his movements, your hand that touched the fabric of his destiny. And for a fleeting moment, he wondered how it felt to live without always having to manipulate the outcomes.

Meanwhile, you—now in Aventurine’s body—fumbled through things that were second nature to him. But there was an odd comfort in the sheer elegance of his every action. You realized something deep about him—the effortless way he controlled and guided people with nothing but his presence.

It was a strange experience, a dance between you both as you swapped the roles of puppeteer and puppet, your understanding of each other shifting in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

It didn’t take long for Ratio to realize that something wasn’t right. One moment he was basking in the glory of his intellect, dictating profound ideas about the importance of eradicating ignorance and spreading knowledge across the universe, and the next, he was—well, you. A flurry of thoughts rushed through his mind, as his expert control over his own body was suddenly gone.

The disorientation was almost maddening for someone so precise in both mind and form. He blinked—your eyes were not his, yet they still glowed with the same fiery determination that burned in his own. But it was the body that truly threw him off: clumsy and strange, foreign yet intimately yours.

He stood in your body, his fingers brushing unfamiliar fabric as he tried to make sense of the new sensation. His usual air of superiority faltered. “What kind of bizarre cosmic trickery is this?” he muttered to himself, brushing back strands of his newly acquired hair that felt too soft compared to the usual texture of his wavy violet locks.

Meanwhile, you, now inhabiting Ratio’s body, were struggling to keep up with his monumental intellect. His brain was filled with theories and facts, some that you could grasp and others that you couldn’t, like trying to read a book in an entirely new language. But there was an undeniable rush to the experience—a strange feeling of empowerment, to feel like you could accomplish anything, if only you could access all of it.

Ratio, in your body, was much less composed. You noticed how his personality started to crack when his usual confidence faltered. He paced back and forth, mumbling under his breath, trying to figure out how he could regain control of his situation. "This is utterly... inconceivable," he grumbled. "And what are these emotions? How do you function with this incessant need for... for... connection?"

You couldn’t help but laugh, the voice of his frustration amusing as you adapted to the newfound power in his frame. "You’d be surprised. You’re not the only one with a brilliant mind," you teased, trying to sound as intellectual as he would, though your unfamiliarity with his erudite style made it come out a little more playful than you intended.

As the day passed, Ratio found himself forced to engage with your responsibilities while you, in his body, tried to handle his lofty ideals. By the end of the day, there was a shared understanding—he couldn’t fully comprehend your world, and you couldn’t fully comprehend his—but both of you walked away with an invaluable lesson in perspective.

Boothill, a creature of vengeance, had always worn his identity like a badge of honor. The weight of his mechanical limbs, the edge of his cowboy persona, were all his own. But when the body swap hit, he was taken aback. One moment, he was sharpening his guns, preparing for another bounty hunt, and the next, he was staring at his hands—your hands.

"What in tarnation...?" Boothill growled, his voice now awkwardly foreign in a body he didn’t recognize.

Meanwhile, you found yourself staring back at Boothill’s signature red scarf and rugged cowboy body. The weight of his mechanical limbs felt heavy on your frame, the sheer force of his presence almost overwhelming. His boots felt too big, and the sensation of his long white hair flowing past your shoulders was a bizarre, disorienting thing.

Boothill didn’t quite know what to make of this. You had his body now—his cybernetic enhancements, his unwavering drive for revenge. But it was your mind guiding his movements. At first, you felt like an imposter—this wasn’t you. But as time went on, something within you clicked. Maybe it was the gun in your hand or the thrill of the chase, but you began to move with a kind of dangerous fluidity, just like Boothill.

“Guess I’ve got no choice but to walk in your boots for a while,” you muttered, the words coming naturally despite the disorienting feeling of someone else’s rage bubbling inside you.

Boothill, in your body, was even more frustrated. Your form wasn’t accustomed to the mechanical precision of his body. His mind was sharp, always calculating, but now, trying to function in your body, it was more difficult than he anticipated. “This is absurd. I can’t feel the gun as well, and this body is too... soft. How do you stand it?”

"You’ll figure it out," you shot back, spinning Boothill's gun expertly. "But I don’t know if I’ll last long with your anger burning through me."

The two of you spent the day navigating the harsh world of vengeance from different perspectives, each of you learning something valuable about the body you had stolen—Boothill about your resilience, and you about his need for closure.

When the body swap hit, Sampo barely even flinched. After all, he was used to change, used to the chaos. But waking up in your body was a new experience for him.

The first thing Sampo noticed was how small your body felt compared to his usual tall, lean frame. His light skin, dark blue hair, and mismatched gloves didn’t seem quite so impressive when he looked at himself from your perspective.

He grinned mischievously, “Well, well, looks like the tables have turned. I’m you now, huh?”

You were less than impressed, standing in Sampo’s body, feeling the weight of his charm press against your every thought. Sampo was a master of words, a smooth-talker who could convince anyone to buy into his schemes. But you now realized how tiring it could be to maintain that façade.

Sampo reveled in the new body, instantly seeing the potential for profit. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he casually walked around in your frame. “Oh, I can already feel the gears turning, ready to hustle someone out of their last coin.”

Meanwhile, you, stuck in Sampo’s body, tried to keep up with his unpredictable and slippery behavior. “I don’t think this is the time for business, Sampo. We need to figure out how to switch back.”

But Sampo only laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it all figured out. For now, though, I think it’s time we made a little profit out of this situation.”

By the end of the day, both of you had adapted in your own ways—Sampo, using his new-found ability to talk circles around people, and you, beginning to understand the fine art of deception. As always, Sampo made everything seem like a game—one that you were now reluctantly part of.

[quantum1mmortality]

oooooo I have so many ideas…

If you have a kid with curly, how does he react as a father? He gives me SUCH STRONG girl dad energy and I can’t tell you why. This man is a GIRL DAD. How is he as a parent? Does he cook? Can he help his kid with math homework? Is he a family man? I’m so curious to see your thoughts on this.

Prob like the 7th request I've gotten for dad/dilf Curly 😭😭 also to my very special anon who has been in my asks for a very special Jimmy request, give me a few days, it'll be out love 🪽(I'm busy asf rn)

Tw/cw; none!! All sfw this time :) see guys I can be family friendly when I want to be

Not proofread

I've actually gone over this in the tags of a different post, I do think Curly would be a girl dad. He'd want twin girls and you guys canNOT tell me different.

After you come home from the hospital, Curly would do literally everything for you and the new babies. He'd prepare healthy meals for you, he'd help clean and feed the babies, if one of them started crying in the middle of the night he'd insist on being the one to take care of it, etc.

Basically the bare minimum but is still praised because the bare minimum is hard to come by now.

I see Curly as the type of man to be raised by a single mom and having no father figure. Morbid? A bit, but it helped shape him into the super awesome sauce girl dad he is today.

Because of having an absent father, Curly would go above and beyond to make sure he's present in his children's lives. Any days he has off, he's spending time with you and your new baby girls. Oh, his daughter's are in a school play? He's calling off work and showing up with flowers and chocolates for both of them. Shit like that

Curly would come into work late or just take the day off completely if you needed extra help with the kids. He'd leave work early to pick them up from school if you couldn't. He WANTS to be there. And just remember guys, if he wanted to, he would.

Curly would also try to be home early so he could read them bedtime stories. Idk I just think that's cute.

Once they start growing up, he's getting more into their interests. Curly would be the type of dad to let his daughters put makeup on him and have them do his nails. He would happily walk into pony express as a well known captain and have nail polish everywhere on his hands BUT his nails.

And yes, he would help his kids with their homework. Something about Curly makes me think he took mathematics in college, and I can safely say he is breaking every generational curse by not making your children cry over their math homework.

BONUS CONTENT!!!; Curly would want older twin daughters (obviously, we just went over that) and a younger boy. He would want to name the boy Dallas, but I can't think of any names for the girls. He'd like the name Phoebe a lot, so probably that and maybe a name like Sophia for the other twin.

A/N; too many curly fics, must make master list

[caelivir]

hold me down | oliver aiku

synopsis. oliver’s always been different with you. he doesn’t figure out why until tonight.

pairing. oliver aiku x fem!reader | wc. 1.8k | genres. established relationship + fluff + pet names (princess & doll) | warnings. only a little suggestive cuz is it really an aiku fic if it isn’t?

notes. ooc oli because would he would never in a million years do this but im just a girl and i have dreams okay. also a little late on this but thank you for 500 followers. i love love love you guys so much.

when oliver comes home, he’s burnt out. the combination of a workout with the athletic trainers and an afternoon practice back-to-back had drained the life out of his muscles. he makes a note to never do one after the other ever again.

oliver sets his duffel bag by the side of the living room couch. he lets his weight fall back on the cream colored cushions. he takes a moment to stare up at the plain ceiling before his eyes flutter shut.

he ascertains that he wasn’t asleep for long when a gentle shake at his thigh slowly yanks him from his state of slumber. his mind is still groggy, yet oliver can already confidently guess who would dare to wake him just by the shape of the hand on his thigh. it's the only other person he gave a copy of his apartment key to. he doesn't question why you're here. he's used to you coming over to stay a few nights.

“you okay, oli?” you ask, hints of worry laced in your pretty voice.

“mhm.” oliver hums. he picks his head up. "no need to worry about me, princess."

you’re fresh out the shower. he realizes this after he picks up on the addicting scent of your coconut and vanilla bodywash that you keep stashed in his bathroom; he senses that there's something else mixed in with it too. he recognizes it to be hints of orris and cedarwood, a combo that he finds on his own clothes. his eyes travel and the sight of you in his shirt nearly makes him pounce on you. he doesn't have the energy for that though, so he opts for reaching out for your hand.

"are you sure? i only woke you 'cause i didn't want you sleeping on the couch. do you want to move to the bed?" you gently squeeze oliver's fingers. "i'll clean out your practice bag too if you want."

"no."

"no?" you chuckle in bewilderment at your boyfriend's sleepy defiance. oliver weakly pats his thighs. you bring your eyebrows together in thought.

your eyes had widened ever so slightly, and he knew you just figured out what he wants. you shake your head. "we don't have to today. you're tired."

"mmm, don't care." oliver denies your refusal and pats his thighs once more. he sees you sigh, the falling of your chest pushes the air out of your lungs, but a soft grin replaces it instantly because who are you to defy him?

you approach oliver, hiking up one leg to come down on one side of his body with the other following immediately after, settling your weight on his lap. your arms drape over his shoulders.

he squeezes your hips before asking the signature question. "how was your day, doll?"

"let me think." you play with the green tips of hair at the back of oliver's neck as you rack your brain for interesting moments to share with him.

oliver isn’t sure how this habit started, but he couldn't be bothered to determine the exact details of its beginnings. all that he’s certain of is the fact that this little routine you’ve developed with him is the best part of his day.

he adores the feeling that comes with your entire weight resting on top of him. he loves being able to take in every detail of your beautiful face up close. he’s addicted to your voice and the stories that you inject into his veins.

he'll admit, some days it’s not even about hearing about your day, some days oliver would use this established routine as an excuse to get touchy with you. his hands would wander down to your ass and you'd throw glares at him. your narrowed eyes would only egg him on more. in response, he’d sit up straighter to kiss your neck, sucking and nibbling at that one sweet spot that makes you scratch at his back. you’d lose track of your story, trading details in for stutters.

you'd say that it’s sly and underhanded. you'd chastise him for not listening, but some days you’re just as unfair. oliver could be in the middle of sharing his recollection of the photoshoot he had earlier in the day when you decide to sneak your hands under his shirt. you’d play dumb as he shivers beneath you, your doe eyes encouraging him to continue. he’d try to carry on with his story, but all he would be able to focus on is your palms running up and down his abs. you'd nod your head as he speaks, there’d be a twinkle in your eye that lets him know that you’re fully aware that he’s on the verge of snapping and taking you right there.

other days no words are exchanged at all. oliver can read your mind just by having your mouth on his. he can tell just by the way you tug on his hair and whine against his lips that you badly missed him.

and sometimes oliver isn't able to be there with you at all. he deems those days to be the worst. they're reduced to facetimes where you try to hide your pretty face from him. the calls lag and crash because some days he's halfway across the country or on an entirely different continent.

today doesn’t fall into either of those categories, and he's most definitely thankful that it isn't the last. today, oliver is solely focused on hearing from you. he lets your rambles take root in his bones. he studies you as you talk. the lights in your eyes rival the stars. the smile on your face as you recall the dog you saw at the park could kill a thousand men. the fire of your touch could set the world ablaze.

oliver is well-aware that he's not worthy to be graced with such beautiful sights. he's no saint. his past is stained with his unfaithfulness and his trail of many relationships. he isn't sure why you gave him a chance despite knowing what he's done. you had said that at least he was being honest about it, but that had only left him with more questions than answers. shouldn't that make you more put off about dating him?

he chooses to ignore it; he shoves the question deep into the corners of his head until it's practically invisible. instead on picking apart that question, he focused on you.

throughout your ongoing relationship, he's put thought into your dates, making sure that they're never exactly the same. he spoils you rotten but not with lavish gifts. the one time he did you were severely unhappy at his thoughtless spending, and thus he made a note in his mental archive to reserve such actions only for your birthday (and anniversaries). instead, he ties your shoe laces for you and he fixes your jewelry. he kisses away your tears when you cry and learns the recipes to your favorite meals. he sits you up on the surface of the sink in his bathroom and brushes your teeth for you when you're too tired to do it yourself. he lets you drag him into doing skincare and makeup because it gives him an excuse to admire how cute you look when you're focused, and he gets to relish in the feeling of your hands brushing against his face.

it was baffling. when oliver first started realizing how much he does for you, he felt like an alien had possessed his body. there was something that had latched itself onto the controls of his brain. that had to be the reason why he was acting so out of character. when he told this to itoshi sae, he was called a fucking idiot and a loser, and looking back, he probably was. the answer, the explanation for his new behavior was in front of him the entire time.

it's simply because-

"i love you." oliver utters out loud. your hands freeze in his hair. whatever you were saying previously dies on your tongue.

"huh?"

oliver blinks slowly. the words had slipped out unintentionally; the gravity of them crush him suddenly. the aftertaste of them is foreign, like they were never supposed to be spoken from him. it's new territory. it's the first time oliver's said that to you in the four months you've been together. it's the first time he's said that to anyone for that matter.

he contemplates taking it back, as if he could ever extract the words from the air and shove them back down his throat. but why bother with jumping through those loops? he has no good reason to take it back. he has no use spinning a truth into a lie. so instead, oliver offers you an upturn of his lips, his heart threatening to break out of his chest. he soaks in all of your microexpressions. your mouth is stuck in a cycle of opening and closing, your eyebrows drawn together in disbelief.

"idiot." you mutter shakily, gnawing at your quivering lip. you bury your face in the crevice of oliver's neck. it makes him smile. he knows your tells. you're about to start crying. "do you know how long i waited for you to say that?"

oliver pulls you in closer, wrapping his buff arms around your waist. "i know." he acknowledges. "i'm sorry it took me so long to realize it."

you tug hardly on his hair to get back at him. the pain spreads to his scalp, and he can't find it in him to be mad. "damn princess." he chuckles.

you remove your head from its hiding place. both of your hands slide so that they rest on either side of oliver's neck. in the light, he can catch the path of tears that fell from your eyes. "yeah, well, you deserved it."

"i know."

"i love you." you breathe out desperately. the four words that have been boiling inside you, the four words you've managed to cage up finally rush out and crash down like waves.

"yeah?" oliver smirks. you lean in closer, and he gives your waist a quick squeeze.

"yeah. i love you so much." you whisper in front of oliver's lips before he closes the inch gap between you two.

usually, when oliver kisses you, he's does so as if he's a starved man; he wants to devour you whole. this is nothing like that. he substitutes his hunger for softness. his lips are gentle against yours as if to prove himself to you. he wants you, with every fiber in his being, to believe that his words are true. his 'i love you's' are real and honest and come from the deepest parts of his heart. when you pull away, you both look at each other as if your each other's entire world.

"i love you, princess." oliver says. the words are still unfamiliar on his tongue, but he thinks he can get used to them. he'll say them as many times as he needs to if it meant that he can see that blinding smile on your face.

oliver aiku is no saint, but he'll do anything for you.

[takes1]

heyyy, I just found your page and I’m in love omg<333 would just like to request an ushijima imagine with a tall reader (5’10-11) it’s so rare to see a tall reader tbh hahah, anyways reader is captain of the girls volleyball of their school and is a middle blocker, ushijima just kinda stumbled upon their gym with tendou and cannot take his eyes off here or something 😭

Thank youuuuu

thanks pookie! sorry about the wait. this was a great request! i rlly appreciate asks like these. sorry i wrote this man a little different than what i normally see, but it made sense to me

warnings. none, sfw.

details. ushijima not getting social queues / pining!ushijima / kinda dumb!ushijima / stoic!ushijima / staring / secretly sweet!ushijima / tall!reader / team captain!reader / unrequited? crush / tendou being a great wingman / 1.8k words

links. masterlist. more haikyuu here. my ao3. request box.

Leading a team full of peers never came naturally. At least, the girls didn't make it an easy task when every order, every call was either questioned or giggled at.

Today's practice in particular was getting to you. Nobody was focused up and there were some plays that only existed because it was a Friday afternoon going into a long weekend off.

You shut down a laughable attempt at a spike. If anything, your jump was too high- the ball caught your chest and slammed into the opposite side of the court. What was that? Six shut-downs in the past ten minutes?

"Let's try hitting the ball, not bumping it!" You shouted, swiping the sweat down and off your face. It was mean, but honest.

"We're trying!" Somebody whined.

You flung your arm dismissively at the other side of the net and rested your hands on your hips. Maybe it was just destined to be a rough day, after all.

A melodic whistle from the entrance turned your attention to a cheery redhead, skipping towards the court. Behind him trailed a slower, silent, but somehow greater presence.

You called for a water break at once- celebration ignored- to greet your eccentric friend.

"Strooong block," Tendou grinned and scanned you for signs of effort- he found it in the wetness across your light-colored shirt, "Good game?"

"Hardly," You fanned yourself by pumping your collar with air.

Ushijima stopped glancing around the gym and finally acknowledged your presence- you pretended to not care about his awful staring problem. He didn't look you in the eye, but in a way, it made you more on-edge. Was there something wrong?

You stopped fanning yourself and faked a smile to hide how concerned you were that they might stay to watch, "We're just- off, today--,"

"Mmmm!" Tendou's attentive hum and consequent staring was far more objective, but creepy nonetheless.

What a couple of weirdos.

"We were just about to call it, actually," You placed your hands on your hips, squinting at the other captain to guess his intentions, "So if you were trying to use the court, you can have it."

Narrowed eyes caught your gaze in an intense, humbling second- you wrapped your arms around yourself and glanced away.

Ushijima had an otherworldly harshness to him. You rarely felt the need to shy away from people, but he knew how to make you squirm.

He said absolutely nothing to you. Tendou accepted your offer and paid it forward by inviting you to stay and run drills, but there was something about Ushijima you couldn't decipher, no matter how much you wanted to practice. It was like he had a problem with you, or the way you ran your team, or he was just pissed off- none of those were possibilities you had the energy to deal with after this evening.

They took the court gladly to do some pair work and clean up; your team left in a cheerful mood, ready to get started on their long weekend right away. The arrangement left only you dissatisfied.

Tendou stalked your exit carefully from afar, tip-tapping anxiously on the ball in his hands. Your long shadow slipped away and they were alone at last.

He kept his voice low, just in case, and cozied up to Ushijima's side, "Soooo..."

Ushijima spared a passing glance over to his curious friend, no more.

"How long?" Tendou's attentive, inquisitive grinning was enough context. No need for direct name-dropping, nor denial.

His stone face began to fill with color.

This was a new feeling for him- it felt like he was dying, but in a good way, and he didn't want it to ever stop. He couldn't seem to catch his breath until you left. That didn't bother him per say- he didn't need air if it meant he could watch you shut down spikes, or roll into a skilled receive, or lead your team.

When he was forced to speak was the only real problem. He could sit and be a spectator forever, but when it came to getting any words out with you, they all fell apart on his tongue. He was always pretty quiet, but he knew this was pushing what he could get away with.

"Don't know. I've always liked her."

Tendou tossed the ball to him. He caught it, deep in thought.

It was clear that you didn't return the feelings. From the beginning, you were always different with him than you were with your team, or even Tendou. He knew he wasn't charming, or charismatic, or friendly. That wasn't an issue until recently.

The way you walked, with a slight swagger, always standing straight-- using your height as a weapon, captured his attention first. He caught himself stealing glances at you from across the gym when your teams switched for precious practice time. He started to notice more. The strong lines in your legs, the sweat-stuck hair on your brow, the little pant on your breath when you said hey just out of civility, the confidence in your voice when you called plays.

Now he battled the feeling of wanting to put himself closer to you. Once that craving started to hit him at night, moments before he drifted off to sleep, he knew something was wrong with him.

Every time he had the opportunity to say something, he lost his voice.

"It's-," He slapped the ball a few times onto the gym floor, then stopped to think before sending it over, "Different now."

Tendou shot him an easy pass, "Y'know, I was starting to think you couldn't get crushes."

He bumped it back, "Me too."

-

Despite how off putting the experience was, by the next practice you were able to brush it all off. You were operating on two completely separate teams, after all. What the guys did, how they practiced, and when was simply not your business.

You slung your bag over your shoulder on the way out of your classroom. Your teacher called after the exiting students about due dates.

"I've been getting questions about the quiz! Remember, you also have a discussion due. They're two different assignments--!"

You only halfway paid attention, too excited about the warmth blowing in through cracked windows from the hall. It would feel so good at practice today - and you had something special planned to raise morale.

You were only a step out the door when you crashed into something firm. The sound of your head smacking into Ushijima's was loud, and unsurprisingly, painful.

"Oh-!"

"Mm-,"

You ran hot with embarrassment and failed to cover it with a laugh. How did you not see him?

"Sorry," You both muttered at the same time.

You rubbed your temple, he rubbed his forehead.

As he did so, he spared you no dignity with what looked like a judgmental up-and-down gaze. It was so piercing that made you grip your shoulder strap tighter. You weren't sure if he meant something by it.

That was just another example of his behavior that felt contradictory.

"We need..." He trailed, briefly checking his hand for any blood. When he looked up, his eye contact so intense that his brows began to furrow. There was some sort of affliction behind his eyes. A narrowed, preoccupied focus that made you uneasy.

You instinctively wiped the back of your hand over your hot face, in case you had something on it. The side of your head throbbed something terrible.

He opened his mouth a little to say something, but sighed instead, uneven.

Things were starting to connect in your brain. Little by little, you picked up on more cues from his body language. He was out of breath, a little sweaty, and flushed. He was clearly rushing here. That was the reason you plowed into one another. You realized you were lucky you were around the same size, or else that could've knocked you on your ass.

"The guys need to get into the gym earlier today."

The statement ripped you from your spiralling, almost complete, thoughts. You laughed, "Yeah, right."

Despite you both being Captains of the same sport, there was very little need to talk to each other beyond your shared affinity for Tendou. Your team schedules never clashed- your coaches and advisors made sure of it.

You squinted when he clearly wasn't kidding.

"Do you really 'need' it? Or do you just want the gym earlier?"

He took a breath to answer, but you were quick to ask another agitated question, "Did Coach Washijou approve of this? I haven't seen an updated schedule."

Talking to you was impossible enough, but you were pissed off, and asking so many questions, and the light was hitting your face just right, and you smelled so good. He couldn't shake how pretty you still looked, angry and impatient with him. You stood straight and proud. Your eyeline was close to his own so he could savor every color he could find in your darting eyes.

His slow reaction and lack of social graces was so off-putting that you could only assume it came from a place of narcissism. He must not have cared, or he thought that his own team was more deserving of practice time that he demanded taking yours.

You were seconds away from calling him an entitled prick when you spotted a familiar redhead approaching, just over Ushijima's shoulder.

"(Y/n)!!" He sang and squeezed past his friend to take your hand in his. He tossed it back and forth between his own. It made you smile for a moment; as always, he helped diffuse the tension.

"Hey, Satori-," You wanted to be nicer, but only had about 15 minutes left to figure this issue out, "What is this about needing the gym sooner?"

He looked up at the ceiling, acutely aware that Ushijima was not a fan of this physical contact between the two of you, "Hmm! Ohh, that. I meant to tell you-,"

A calculated gaze to Ushijima, "He said nevermind."

That little liar.

In a flash, just through that familiar, cunning face of his, Ushijima understood that Coach Washijou never actually wanted the gym. Tendou only told him the 'news' because he wanted him to have a reason to speak to you. He really wanted to punch him, just for a moment.

There was something between them you couldn't make out. A conversation there you didn't get. You couldn't, and didn't want to, bother yourself with it.

"Perfect! So, there's no issue then?" You patted Tendou, then Ushijima's broad shoulder and squeezed between them to go change for practice.

"Mm-mmm, No issues here!" Tendou grinned and wiggled his fingers goodbye at you. He looked at his friend.

Ushijima placed an oversized hand over his shoulder and watched you walked away.

taglist. love ya'll <33

@yuchacco

@integers

[travelingtwentysomething]

I need to know if literally anyone else has seen any of the interviews for Gladiator 2 press, and if you've noticed any tension between the cast? Especially between Paul Mescal and Joseph Quinn and possibly Pedro Pascal because I have a theory that Joseph Quinn "stole the show" you know, and this was supposed to be Paul's big moment as the star of the movie. And maybe he didn't like it and is being petty about it or something behind the scenes?

I watched an interview with Paul Mescal and Denzel Washington for Vogue and Denzel said he learned to be humble from Paul and Paul looked like he couldn't look Denzel in the eye when he said that. And I feel like Joseph has been taken off some of the press even though I know he's shooting for Marvel, but it seems like they're really not putting them together on purpose. Also saw some sort of promo with Paul and Pedro where Pedro said something like I hate that it has to be said but Paul is amazing in this or something to that effect, and there was some tension. And it was right after the premiere when everyone started talking about how Denzel and Joseph Quinn stole the show. I also saw an interview with Mescal and Fred Hechinger where Paul said they had good energy today but if it was yesterday it would have been thumbs down energy, and then I saw interviews with Joseph and Fred paired up that were from the day before, and the way Fred looked when Paul made that comment made me think that that was some sort of negative comment against Joe. Am I reading too much into this? Am I making this up? I just feel like I see some sort of tension and I'm reading it because my intuition lighting up like a klaxon.

Did you see that interview where they were all together and playing that friendship quiz game and Joseph said that Pedro said Joseph was his favorite actor and Pedro said that he "said that he was special and that can mean many things" and Joe looked kind of sad and then Pedro kind of got in his way and blocked him from the camera for the rest of the next portion of the interview, like maybe there's a issue with Pedro and Joe or something, or Paul and Joe and maybe Pedro's in the middle of it all? I'm just so confused about all of this but I just am sensing the tension.

This has been a random rant. If anyone is sensing what I'm sensing please comment on this I need to know that I'm not crazy or if I am whatever

[mana-sputachu]

for old times sake (no need to draw)! Dear Jin: why the hell where you so hot in Tekken 6???

I couldn't resist. For old times sake<3

Pinned post (with commission infos and where you can find me)!

[herewegobebe]

The journey of utter horror on Minho's face 😲😱🤬🤣

[goblin-enjoyer]

Had chaos warbands on the brain today. saw this post and had to make a funny.

[numbuh424]

@nearsbday : DAY 6 - "PUZZLE" 🧩

[maria-ruta]

I'm having a bad mood today

Would you draw my blorbo for me please?

[brown-little-robin]

it went fine yesterday btw :}

[sealrock]

happy mother's day

[feldsparite]

forgor how to draw him but that's not important. what's important is that pokemon go fest is mean and evil

[a-story-teller]

I was in a major car accident yesterday (got t-boned) and was very luckily a) alone in the car, as the passenger side got walloped and b) not injured. However I took care of everything and then went home and proceeded to sleep for 19 out of the following 24 hours.

[agueforts]

me vs eternal grudges abt d20 captions

[demonzoro]

i think after over a year of associating drawing with terrible physical pain bc of my prev workplace, i'm finally excited from the bottom of my heart to draw again :')