#got anything you wanna say to the class Victory?

[cyberwhumper]

 Victory has this recurring nightmare, right.

        He’s in a classroom. Buncha kids, whatever, and there’s a test going on. And he realizes he didn’t study for the test. And he’s freaking out a little, because this test is like a big deal or whatever, and it’s science. Fuckin’ biology, or something, all about “define homo teratogens” and “how did the first shifters get born” and “what are you hiding underneath that ball cap, Montez?” And he’s sitting there, and he realizes he can’t even read the words on the paper—like, the letters are all moving around and just not right, like it looks like corrupted data or something, but all the other kids are just working around him like it’s totally normal and fine, and one by one they all get up and hand their tests in until finally it’s just him sitting there frozen, and the teacher—who looks like his mom, because of course she does—keeps saying he can leave as soon as he’s done, he just has to answer the questions, just has to write down the answer, what are you, Victory, what are you, just say it, say the truth, say what it is that you are.

        He always wakes up real fuckin’ sweaty after that one.

        Hell, watching Rex right now has perspiration prickling at the back of his neck.

        It’s not really “revulsion,” per se. Like, Roga is making exaggerated gagging noises beside him, which Vic does understand—Rex’s skin is elasticizing, pulling apart over the swells of his muscles, liquid-stretchy and pale like pizza cheese—but Vic doesn’t think it’s that gross. It kind of makes him hungry. Not literally. Well. Kind of literally. He could fuck up some pizza right now. But it’s more of a metaphorical hunger. A craving, the same low buzz in the base of his skull that tells him he’s due for another hit of whatever he’s on that day. He knows exactly how good Rex feels right now, even as his bone marrow turns inside out and ligaments groan and creak with straining. Shifting is a hell of a high.

Roga’s gotten over his fake nausea and lost interest, back to chatting shit and loading guns into Dom’s truck, but Vic ignores him. He only has eyes for the monster in front of them. Rex snarls, jaw snapping open and then gaping impossibly wide, the angles of his face lengthening and distorting, the sound deepening into a guttural subwoofer growl that Vic can feel in his bones. Fuck. A fat bead of sweat runs down his back, and he damn near jumps out of his skin as it skims over the scar at the base of his spine, making the butchered knot of nerves underneath light up like fireworks.

He really wishes it didn’t make his dick twitch.

Blades of keratin and bone rip through Rex’s fingers, forming wicked black claws that score marks into the concrete as Rex braces himself to shake like the fuckin’ dog that he is. The last of his skin melts like snow and recedes under the mass of shaggy iron-gray fur, impossibly large in both physique and presence, heavy tail lashing back and forth, sending the scent of testosterone and teratogenesis rolling off him so strongly that even on his massive dose of suppressants, Vic can smell it.

It makes his mouth water.

He hates himself for that.

He hates himself for a lot of things, but. Ain’t the kind of nightmare he can wake up from. He turns away and lights a cigarette, feeling Rex’s burning yellow eyes hot on his back, sweaty, half-hard, hungry.

Fuck it. Maybe Dom will get him pizza after the gig.

[Fic by the exceptionally talented @bxtterflystxtches , who I have the honor of collaborating with for this event. Please show him some love!]

[OC INDEX]

COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!

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[sweet-xymphony]

jungsu ✩ skip [m]

✩ xdinary heroes jungsu x fem-bodied!reader ✩ words: ~1.9k ✩ genre & warnings: smut, dom!jungsu, sub!reader, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, teasing, praise, orgasm control, mirror sex ✩ reader: has a vagina, no description of chest, no pronouns used

desc.: in which he so easily convinces you to skip a class you don’t really need to be at, and you let him.

"I gotta go get ready..." you mumble, tired eyes squinting at the morning sun falling through the thin curtains of the hotel room. So far you have no intention of actually getting up, but maybe if the guy currently resting his head on your shoulder with his arm snaked around your bare waist agreed that you should go do the responsible thing, you would.

Contrary to where your thoughts are leading you, he now lifts up his head, a sheepish smile spreading on his lips as you comb your fingers through his short hair, and when he shifts position to hover above you, legs entangled with yours, you know he's up to no good.

"But?" he asks, leaning in and brushing his lips against your jawline before burying his face in your neck to kiss you there. You throw your head back to give him better access, and he rewards you with a chuckle and teeth grazing your skin.

"Don't wanna..." you mutter as you give his hair a gentle tug. Jungsu looks up and directly at you, amusement reflecting in his gaze, and suddenly he seems wide awake despite the fact neither of you got a whole lot of sleep last night.

"Then don't," he hums as he lets his lips graze your sternum, and he starts kissing his way down your upper body. Hands holding onto your hips, he lingers in one place as he reaches your lower stomach, teeth nibbling on your skin as he looks up at you, expectant of what kind of reaction he would draw out of you. And it's not entirely an unexpected one, because you moan in response, eyes fluttering shut, and with each of his touches your body seems to become heavier and more unwilling to leave the comfortable bed.

"But...!" you attempt to protest still. 

"But what?" he chuckles, throwing you an uneven smile as he purposely uses his weight to press your hips further into the mattress, and mischief flares up in his eyes. "It's not that important, is it?" You did tell him that your first class today isn’t mandatory, and that you can afford to skip it. However, the state in which you told him this wasn't exactly the most clear-headed one, and with where he's taking this situation Jungsu also isn't making it easy for you to reevaluate your decision calmly. So you can't say anything, and he makes use of your silence to tease you some more. "Or, don't tell me, you'd rather I stop and let you leave?"

"No!" Your answer follows suit, maybe a little too quickly, because now there's a victorious grin plastered onto his face, and you feel heat rushing to yours. "I mean..."

"What?" he asks, dragging out the vowel a bit while not taking his eyes off you. You're the one looking away, as you turn your head in order to face the wall next to the bed instead.

"I'd rather stay with you..." you admit, speaking quietly, and he hums in response. 

"Just what I thought," he says, and the next thing you know is he's already getting comfortable between your legs, tip of his nose grazing your clit as his tongue gives you a few teasing kitten licks. And still it makes you shiver as he takes you by surprise.

"Jungsu..." you breathe his name, and as he flattens his tongue against your pussy, his eyes flutter shut.

"Taste so sweet..." he whispers, before dipping his wet muscle inside you, fingers digging into your sides to keep you in place.

"Shit-" you hiss at the sensation, and simultaneously you're overcome with a need for more. So you grind your hips against his face, and a mewl falls from your lips when he moans at your movement.

"Eager aren't we?" he teases, and he looks right into your eyes as he licks up a stripe to play with your clit for a while. Alternating between skilled movements with his tongue, and wrapping his lips around it to suck on it, he knows how to keep you on edge - literally, because everytime he switches things up he gives you a tiny break in between, just enough to have you coming back down from the pleasure so you wouldn't cum without his permission.

"Jungsu, please..." you mewl when the frustration is becoming too much to handle, but all you get from him is an amused chuckle.

"What, beautiful?" he asks, as if he didn't know exactly what you want from him.

"Please, let me cum..." you beg, but he seems to have other plans.

"Not yet," he answers, shaking his head, and then he kisses his way back up your body, until he's hovering directly above you, his lips a mere inch apart from yours. "I'm not done yet," he adds, and then he comes closer until he's kissing you. His pace is unhurried, yet he's demanding in the way he moves his lips against yours and eventually parts them with his tongue to lead over into an open mouthed kiss. You throw your arms around him, grasping his broad shoulders, and as you part you can see in the way he looks at you that he enjoys having you cornered like this. "Wanna cum for me?" 

"Y-yeah..." He kisses you again, this time with more fervour, his tongue dancing with yours causing your body to go up in flames, and you moan into his mouth as you feel him rolling his hips against yours.

"Ah-" you mewl when he pulls back, feeling his hard cock grazing your folds. He sits up, placing himself between your legs, and your gaze wanders his bare upper body. You take in the way his muscles work under the skin on his arms when he reaches for your thighs in order to direct you to wrap your legs around his waist fully, and you watch how his abs flex when he positions himself to push into you. There's barely a stretch when he enters you - you've been thoroughly prepped all night basically, plus his teasing alone was enough to leave you soaked. And yet you cry out louder than you would've wanted to, because he just feels so good inside of you, and you can't wait for him to fuck your brains out for the n-th time within the course of the last few hours up until now. 

He reaches for your hands, placing them to each side of your head as he wraps his fingers around your wrists and pushes you into the mattress. A small moan escapes him too when he starts thrusting, observing you closely, as you're lying there underneath him. 

"You like that, hm? Much better than your boring class..."

"Y-yeah..." you can't but agree as he fucks you at a slow pace. It's always like that with him - he goes just a bit slower than what you would like, to play with you for however long he pleases.

To stay in control.

"F-feels good..." you mewl. "M-more..." You try your luck, but the more you receive isn't what you had hoped for. He changes nothing about the slightly unsatisfying pace as he lowers himself so he could kiss your neck instead. "N-not there, Jungsu..." you warn him as he begins to nip at your throat, but your words lack impact.

"'M not leaving a mark, promise..." he mumbles, working his way further up and biting down on your earlobe instead, before coming back up and ceasing his motions. You whine when he pulls out of you, a little pathetically probably, but when you see the expression on his face filled with lust and need, you dare to hope. "Come here." He pats the space behind him, watching as you obey and crawl to where he wants you. "On your knees."

You do as told, getting on all fours while facing the big mirror covering a big part of the wall opposite the bed. You can see him kneeling behind you, and when he harshly grabs you by your hips to make you perk up your ass for him prettily, you gasp, suddenly feeling a lot weaker in your knees than just a few seconds ago. Jungsu doesn't seem up for wasting any more time, because as soon as you feel his tip prodding at your entrance, he pushes inside with a groan.

"Shit-" you curse, and he's quick to shush you.

"Pretty words, beautiful," he reminds you, with his lowered voice ringing in your ears. You can't think of anything smart to say, so instead you merely reply with a moan. In the mirror you can see him smirk as he begins pounding into you, and you can't get yourself to keep quiet anymore.

"Hnng... J-jungsu..." The only coherent thing you manage to produce is his name, and so you let yourself be taken while you moan it over and over again.

"Doing so good for me, beautiful..." The strain on his voice only serves to turn you on more, and when he reaches around you to play with your clit as he fucks you at a steady pace, you know he's serious now. "Look at yourself," he orders. "You're so pretty for me... couldn't have been this pretty for me in class, could you?"

"N-no...!" you sputter, hands digging into the sheets, and when you feel his hand suddenly pressing down between your shoulder blades and you fall face first into the mattress, you're almost pushed over the edge. "J-jungsu... please..." you mewl, your back prettily arched for him as he keeps going, filling you up so good and fucking you rough, just how you like to be handled.

"Please what?" he asks from behind you, sounding cocky.

"L-let me cum, please...! Can't take it..."

"Look at yourself, then," he reminds you, and you raise your head as far as your position allows, and seeing the powerless state you're really in does nothing to help you slow down the approaching high. "That's right," he praises you, and your walls clench around him. It really is about to be over for you, whether he gives you the okay or not.

"P-please! Please, please l-let me... c-cum...!"

"Then cum for me..." It takes him but a few more thrusts to throw you over the edge, having you crying out and shaking as you cum hard on his cock. He forces himself to pull out once you're coming down from your high, and with a few swift motions he has you rolled over, lying on your back as you watch him wrap his fist around his painfully hard length. His gaze drinking up the sight of your fucked out state, he groans at the feeling of him jerking himself off, and mere seconds later he's coming undone with a broken moan, covering your stomach with his seed. Sinking down onto his heels, he marvels at the image, giving both of you some time to catch your breath. Then he reaches for the paper towels placed on the bedside table to help you somewhat clean yourself up.

"How about a shower?" he suggests, helping you up into a sitting position and letting you lean your tired body against his as he holds you close with his arms around you.

"Sounds good..." you answer, slurring the words a bit and it makes him smile at you in adoration while he lifts his hand to cup your cheek with it, thumb brushing against your hot skin.

"You still wanna go to your class? You might make it if we hurry." You chuckle and shake your head.

"I think I'll skip," you say, and then you add after a pause, "And stay with you for a while longer."

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can I request Glitchy red being followed around by a Child NPC with Ice types who he defeated..and at that moment they gained sentience/snapped outta the NPC behavior and now..travels and follows him around bc they’re like “WOAHHH YOUR SO COOL!! :00 :3” and like chats up a storm and and see him as they’re idol and as a big brother figure and wants to be friends with him headcanons? He isn’t lonely anymore! :3

Awe yeah wholesome times <3

........

"I guess that's one way to break the ice!"

Although it may have been humorous to the player, Glitchy Red wasn't laughing at your post-battle line at all.

Nor did he feel any sort of victory in defeating you, one of the only NPCs with a functional Pokémon battle.

You did have some high-leveled ice types for such a young trainer class, but that just reminded him of how broken this game is...and how you really weren't any different from the others.

You were merely puppeteered by scripted dialogue, standing in the same place forever as you handed him his prize: a thousand pokedollars.

Yet he didn't wanna take them. He had millions in his inventory already, but it was all useless to him.

So he tries returning them to you, insisting that you deserved it more.

But you don't even react, instead repeating that same phrase over and over again.

"Take the damn money, kid. You need it more than me."

"I guess that's one way to break the ice!"

"I swear if you say that one more time..."

"I guess that's one way to-!"

"Shut up." In a small fit of frustration, Glitchy Red takes your hand and puts the money into your palm himself, fingers curling around it as he stares intensely at you with glowing eyes.

Yet his anger quickly subsides..and he wonders why tf he thought anything would be different with you.

He's just so lonely here and wishes somebody would wake up.

But after seeing you glitch, he steps back and thinks you're gonna disappear into oblivion thanks to him.

He turns away, not wanting to see it.

However he barely takes a few steps forward before he feels something grab the back of your shirt.

And it's...your hand????

"Red, it's you!! The champion!! Oh my gosh...what happened to this place? Why is everything so weird?"

He's stunned into complete silence, taking a moment to process the fact that someone must've heard him.....because you broke free of your programming!

He doesn't know how you did it or how he could've done it, but he's shocked as he watches you heal your Pokémon, bringing out the Cloyster, Dewgong, and Lapras he just defeated.

"Everyone! This is Red, and he's the coolest!! Can you believe we had a chance to fight him???" You whisper excitedly to your team, completely aware of the tall menacing glitchy man standing next to you.

Ever since then, you've been following him around the map, but mostly in Glitch City where you saw the same anomalies as him.

Yet you weren't have a total freakout or a crisis over it like he did....as you're too busy chatting about everything you admired about him.

And even though you have sentience now, you still retained your habit of using ice-related puns

He's certain you're mistaking his achievements for the actual Red's...or the version of himself in Gold that got casted as a "final boss" NPC.

However, you didn't seem aware of that. So who was he to crush your dreams?

Especially the dreams of the only other character in this cursed world that liked him and could talk to him?

Besides, being deemed a failure by his creators and basically left to rot took a toll on him....he never thought himself worthy of praise or positive attention.

Not even the words from NPCs helped, because he knew they were all scripted lines written into the game. They were empty.

But he believes yours 100% because you're alive and truly do mean them.

You wonder why he looked so angry all the time...and when he finally tells you the reason, he's afraid you're gonna run off scared.

Yet you hug him and promise to never leave his side.

That also makes him absolutely TERRIFIED of you possibly despawning/getting corrupted from touching him...

But nothing bad happens at all.

He may have shed a few tears after hugging you back, only to hide his face with his hat after letting you go....completely denying the fact he was crying.

Although he doesn't show it, he's genuinely happy not to be alone anymore and finds living here a little more bearable.

[lizzieislife94x]

First Love (w.m)

Requested<3

Wanda x G!P reader

 Both legal age 19 in high school

AOU era for wanda so if your picturing wanda picture that era 😊🤷🏼‍♀️

Requestes are very much open message me if you want something all feedback is welcome

Y/ns POV:

"Do we REALLYY need to go to the game I don't want to watch a cocky Tony Stark running around thinking he's the man for scoring a few touchdowns" I pout to my best friend Amy as she laughs at me I'm trying my best to pretend I don't wanna go but I secretly do I've been seeing the head cheerleader Wanda Maximoff she's so fucking beautiful but no one can know I have an image to up hold if people around the school see me with her being all loved up they'll think I'm soft I didn't get the title of the schools bad girl over night I worked to build it but wanda is an absolute sweetheart she's the good girl around these halls well so everyone thinks trust me I've seen her being naughty and I've heard the language that slips past her mouth when we manage to get somewhere alone but in everyone else's eyes she's the good girl I'm the bad girl.

"Hello y/n" I'm snapped out my thoughts by Amy gently shaking me looking at me concerned "are you ok your where somewhere else" I cough and shake myself snapping back to reality "yeah I'm all good sorry just zoned out what where you saying" I give her my undivided attention "yeah I was saying you're coming to the game tonight if you like it or not I'll drag you there" I laugh and throw my hands up in surrender Amy is one of the few people I like in this place I'm never mean to her she's actually my best friend "you win you win ill go" I pretend giving her the victory "ok pick me up at 5pm that's enough time to get home and change " I smile as we say our goodbyes as I walk over to my pride and joy my motorcycle my precious baby I put my helmet on and climb on putting the keys in and starting her up I quickly look left and right and spot wanda as she spots me and I nod and wave without being seen by anyone as I can guess she blushes and waves as I drive off towards my house it takes me roughly 25 minutes to drive home as I park I run inside and go to my bedroom to get some black ripped jeans and an over sized hoodie to match after I get ready I goto the kitchen and make a quick ham sandwich I eat it and grab my phone and keys and head towards the door but stop myself I quickly shoot wandaa text 

Me: Hey I can't wait to see you do your thing tonight I had to pretend I didn't want to come tonight to Amy but I think she bought it 

Wanda: Oh my god 😂 least she doesn't suspect anything I can't wait to see you tonight I miss you y/n after the game meet me in the maths class 

I smile like an idiot as I gently bite my lip before I send another text

Me: I know ! I miss you too wanda and you got it babe see you in maths after the game

I walk out and head to my bike as I put my helmet on and drive towards Amy's house as I pull up and I grab my phone.

Me: I'm outside get yo ass out here bitch 

I put my phone away and wait a few minutes before she appears "well you took your time dickhead" I laugh as she hits my shoulder playfully "shut up let's go" she puts on the spare helmet and climbs on holding onto my waist as I drive towards the school it takes us 15 minutes to arrive and leaves us 10 minutes to get to our seats as we find out seats and get comfortable my eyes look for wanda and instantly land on her making me smile as if she can feel me she locks eyes with me and smiles as I mouth "you got this babe" she bites her lip and nods I honestly want the game to start so it can end I'm not here to watch the men run around I'm here to watch the good girl my good girl that owns my heart do her thing.

After the game I whisper to Amy "ill meet you outside in an hour I have something I need to do" she doesn't question me she just nods in agreement as I make my way to the math class room making sure no one sees me as I arrive my smile is beaming "hey baby, fuck I've missed you" I say walking towards wanda grabbing her waist pulling her in for a kiss which she happily returns as her tounge roams my mouth I savour the feeling, once air becomes a problem I break away and rest my head on hers "I've missed you too y/n" I look into her eyes for a second "we don't have long baby and I need you now" she whimpers making me giggle as I let my hands rub her ass "I have the place to myself this weekend do you wanna spend it with me we can  actually spend some proper days together" I say as she beams me a smile "I'd love to y/n" I smirk and push her against the desk as I start to kiss her neck earning precious moans from the redhead I feel her hand rub my crotch and moan against her neck "fuck wanda" I moan gently as she continues to rub my groaning member "I need you inside me y/n I've missed having you inside me I feel so empty when your not inside me" I bite my lip and smirk at her begging as I pull her panties off in a quick motion earning a surprised gasp making me giggle I quickly bend her over the desk and run my hand down her body admiring her as she spreads her legs I quickly push my ripped jeans and boxers down as I grab my dick and rub it through her dripping cunt lubing my cock with her juices "yes fuck y/n" she moans gripping the desk as I slowly slide myself into her waiting cunt "fuck wanda no matter how many times I fuck you you're always so fucking tight" I groan as I thrust hard bottoming out inside her "uhhhh shit don't stop uhhhh" I smirk as I run my hand round to massage her tits over her top as I start to thrust harder and faster both of us moaning messes the sound of skin slapping would easily be heard by anyone walking past "this pussy belongs to me, say it "

I growl into her ear as she whimpers beneath me the sounds of her soaking pussy only turning me on more "fuck y/n you own me you own my pussy its all yours no one elses baby" I lift her legs allowing me to get deeper as I fuck her harder feeling her walls gripping my cock, I increased my thrusts and look down as she creams all over my cock "fuckkk fucckk fuckkk baby I can't oh fuck" she screams making me smirk "fuck wanda I'm gonna cum but I don't have a condom on" I say with my eyes closed as my release fast approaches rushing towards me "pull out quickly " I instantly listen and pull out as she sinks to her knees and takes my cock into her mouth making me moan as my head rolls back making me grip her hair "shit just like that wanda it's coming" she tries to say something but fails sending vibrations up my dick causing me to crash over the edge I moan loudly as I feel my cum shoot down her throat after a few seconds she stands up and pulls me into a kiss "I have to go but I can't wait to spend the weekend with you baby getting to wake up to your beautiful face" she says as she walks backwards towards the door as I fix my jeans and boxers "me too ill see you Friday after school beautiful " and just like that she's gone, fuck I'm so inlove with this chick this is gonna hurt, I shake my head and laugh to myself as I go to the front of the school and see Amy waiting for me we both get onto the bike and I start the drive to her house to take her home then make the short drive to my house.

AN: this was a request I hope you like it requests are open I do them almost right away hahaha stay hydrated people hope everyone has a good day/ night word count is 1.5k 

[idontplaytrack]

Accidentally kiss with any auli’i character please I want fluff all cute a little silly

Stage Fighting

Lilette Suarez x fem! reader

Warnings: fluff, some coarse language, mentions of violence(stage fighting)

In which, reader and Lilette’s stage fighting assignment don’t go as planned, but in the best way possible

Somewhat inspired by the Victorious episode lol.

Today was Monday. And you’ve just been paired up with Lilette for an assignment on stage fighting. You’ve worked with nearly everyone in your classes for different assignments and projects and by far, Lilette was one of the few people that you could really get along with. You’ve always felt that your teammates were freeloading before, but once you got to work with Lilette, you realised that things just weren’t as stressful as you knew it to be.

The first order of business was to settle on scenarios and characters. You and Lilette decided pretty quickly, then went ahead with fully planning out scenarios and movements. The class concluded before you knew it and you went the rest of your day without seeing her since she wasn’t in any other of your classes today.

But, the girl seemed to have figured out your schedule. Because she was waiting for you outside your classroom and startled you when you exited the room.

“Sorry!” She gasps, “Gosh, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You chuckle, “It’s fine. What’s up?”

“Nothing much, I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out then maybe we can work more on the assignment? Settle on as much as we can then we don’t have to worry about it and just rehearse until it’s time to ‘present’ it.”

“Oh, sure! I’m free.” You agreed, “Where at?”

“Well, my place is a no-go because my Mom’s gonna be there and be upset with me over nothing. I can’t wait for her to go back home.”

“No one’s home today so we could go to mine? If that’s okay with you.”

Okay, look. You and Lilette didn’t only just met in acting school. You last saw her when you two were nine, which was the year you had to move away because your Mom got a job position in another state. The last memory you had with her was your ninth birthday party, then you never saw her again until you got into this school. And shit, you literally had to do a double take when you first saw her again because this girl made your heart skip a beat. You’d suddenly fallen for her and you didn’t know what to do other than keep it to yourself— you two weren’t that close anymore. And you even thought that she wouldn’t remember who you were, but she remembered. Once she saw you, her eyes lit up and she called you by your name. You were shocked.

Anyway, back to right now. You drove the two of you to your place. She’s never been here before and you could only hope you didn’t leave this place a mess— luckily, you didn’t. But damn was your memory bad sometimes, you could barely remember if you did even make your bed that morning. “Make yourself at home.” You smiled, shutting the door. “You…wanna get some takeout?”

“I don’t mind.” She shrugs, “Not that hungry yet, but if you want to order anything just go for it.” Lilette was sat on your desk chair, you walked up to your vanity and let your hair down then ran a brush through it.

“Okay.” You nod, “What do you feel like having?”

“I dunno, anything really.”

“Indian food? There’s this really great place not far from here.”

“That sounds delicious.” She agrees, “Anyway, we have until Friday. And we’re— I would say about 40, 50 percent done.”

“Yep.” You sat down on your bed, “For costumes, I think we could definitely just use our own clothes that we already have instead of having to go out and buy new stuff.”

“Oh, yeah. For sure. So, a mugging scenario. Would you want to be the person who gets mugged, or the person who is mugging the other?”

“I can’t decide, honestly. Been thinking about it since we decided on this situation and nope, no answer. So maybe you pick what you want?”

She laughs, “Okay. I’ll uh, I’ll pick. I’m gonna go for the mugger. They wouldn’t really expect that of me, so I guess it’ll be a nice surprise for the class.”

“True, true.” You giggled, “It definitely will make them pay attention, that’s for sure.”

————

The next day, first thing in the morning, you had gym class with Lilette. The teacher decided the best thing for this early morning class was a game of dodgeball. And your clumsy ass was nearly obliterated several times. But worst of all, your teammates were rough— pushing and shoving around like you were invisible. Pissed, you were ready to run off the court when the bloody ball hit you right on the head while you were faced the other way and taking off the sash. You were already out of the court, but still. That didn’t stop them. You fell forward, feeling that thud and throbbing in your head soon enough. Someone yanks you back and unsteadily, you spun around. “Fuck!” You muttered. You could barely stand up still, falling onto whoever caught you.

Oh, hell. How on Earth did this even happen? You felt their lips on yours and that’s what snapped you out of it— you pushed yourself off so quickly and stumbled away. “I’m so sorry.”

“Wait!”

Wait a minute, you knew that voice.

“Are you okay?”

You laughed giddily, “No…Lilette.”

Lilette?!

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“I know, don’t worry about it.” Lilette assured, “Are you—”

“Go to the nurse, y/n.” The teacher came running up to you, “You’d better go make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“I’ll take you, come on.” Lilette says, putting her arm around you.

Well, that was no fun. Turns out, you did indeed have a concussion and it had you throwing up like a broken faucet for awhile. You felt disgusting. That afternoon, you were back home and your Mom was making lunch while you rested in your room. You heard the doorbell ringing and the front door open.

Less than a minute later, your bedroom door creaks. “Hey, you.”

It was Lilette.

“Lilette.” Your eyes widened slightly, “What’re you doing here?”

“Just wanted to check on you and hang out.” Lilette shrugs, walking inside and quietly shutting the door.

“I’m…okay, just still pissed, really. Why’d they have to slam that damn ball right at my head? Like, I know I’m not great at sports but is that a good enough reason to nearly take me out?”

“I’m glad you’re alright.” She smiles. “I brought you something.”

“Oh?”

“These.” She holds up a plastic bag of things, you took it from her.

“Aw, you remember?”

“Hey, we were friends for a long time, y/n.” Lilette chuckles, “I’ll never forget your favourite snacks.”

“You didn’t have to…”

“Come on, we all need a little cheering up sometimes. I’m just glad you’ll be okay.”

“Again, I’m really sorry about the— kiss.”

“Honey, don’t worry about it.” Lilette promised, “Seriously.”

You gulped, feeling the bile rising up your throat. You rushed out of bed and ran to your bathroom to spill your guts. As if you had anything left in you to do that.

“I’ll go get you some more water, okay?”

“Um—” You sniffled, “How about a popsicle instead?”

“A popsicle? Sure.” She nods, exiting your room after getting you settled in your bed again.

She soon returned with what you’d requested and continued to sit with you. “Can I tell you something? Before I chicken out.”

“Okay.” You hummed, nodding your head as you unwrapped the treat.

“I uh, I’m bi.”

“Oh.”

“And I’ve found myself developing a little crush on you when I saw you again for the first time at school.”

“You—”

“I don’t want to make things weird for you, so if you don’t want to be associated with me another, I—”

“Lilette.” You stopped her, “I’m gay.”

“You are?” Her eyes looked like they were going to bulge out of her head as she blushed, “Oh, good. I thought you’d hate me—”

“Oh, I could never.” You chuckled, “Trust me.”

She squints, “So—”

You nodded and her eyes lit up, “Really?”

“Yeah.” You confirmed, a bit tearfully, “I— I like you too, I just didn’t know how to say it because I wasn’t sure if you—”

Lilette leans in, wanting to kiss you but you backed away, “Mm, no— no, I just threw up.” She settles for your cheek instead, caressing it afterwards.

“So…” Lilette licked her lips, “What are we?”

“Well I guess, we’re girlfriends now, what do you think?”

“I like the sound of that.” She grins, holding onto your hand. You tossed the popsicle stick into the trash can by your bed and she gently pulled you closer to herself. You let it happen, now laying your head on her chest. “How are things going at your place?”

“She refuses to take the hint and go. I rushed over here as soon as school let out because i just couldn’t stand being home with her. I said for the weekend and today’s Tuesday already.”

“You can stay here in the meantime if you’d like.” You offered.

“I might have to take you up on that offer because otherwise I’d have gone crazy by the end of the week.” Lilette scoffs, stroking your head gently.

“Stay as long as you need.”

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @reneeswif3 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

[effervescentdragon]

“ungodly hour” title, maxiel!! (but if you don’t wanna write them someone else works too!!)

i have slept very poorly. i am drowning in studying about a country i know in its native tongue in fucking german. i am in class talking about influencers. i like torturing danny. i hope you like this anon ✌🏻🥰

Sometimes when the night is too quiet for Monaco standards, Daniel thinks about what may be, or may have been, if only everything was just a bit different.

He used to be on top of the world. Almost. It felt like he was on his way to be on top of the world, something he knew was in his power to do, something he knew he could do. He beat Seb in the same machinery, Seb who was the four-time World Champion for Red Bull. He fought his way through the ranks of Red Bull, which was pretty much what he imagined soldiers in the wars did fifty years ago, complete with the blood and everything. He'd gone against Seb and came out on top, and then Seb left and he was going to be the one who won all the time, the one who would win the ultimate prize, like the good guys won the war. Nothing would stand in his way, because nothing could. He beat the reigning - or not anymore, but close enough - World Champion, and now was his time. Time to shine. Time to win, baby.

Except it didn't happen that way, because he got Max for his new teammate.

He should've known. Probably. Maybe. He should've known when Christian smiled at Max after his first drive for Red Bull and said Good job, Max. He'd seen that smile before. Even worse, he'd seen the way Max beamed back on another blond, blue-eyed face. He should've known. The fact that he didn't was on him. The fact that he tried to fight it when he realised was all him, too. The fact that he lost wasn't as much of a surprise as it may have been if he hadn't held Seb's smile and Christian's answering one in the garage somewhere deep as his core memory.

Life is a circle, his mom used to say, and he'd laugh and run off to race bikes and cars in the dirt. The only circles he'd ever been interested in were the ones he could leave on track, perfect donuts, a winner's right. Those are still the only circles he's interested in; except.

Except he's in Monaco with Red Bull, a reserve driver this time, for Checo and Max, and he's got circles around his eyes that the make-up girl that, if he smiles right, he thinks he could fuck tomorrow - tonight, already, it's way past midnight - will cover up perfectly for the latest video in the Red Bull marketing machine. Sometimes, Daniel gets an immense burst of satisfaction when he thinks that no amount of PR will ever make Max likeable, one that he can only compare to taking a chicane perfectly. Not that he would remember anymore. Not for a while.

Except he's about to get up on less than three hours and put his well-practiced, charming smile on, and go watch Max win the Monaco Grand Prix. He's going to watch Max win, win again, circle after circle, round and round, on a track that was his once. On the track where he had his last victory. On the track where he last felt the high. On the track where he last had Max.

Or at least fucked him. Daniel isn't sure anyone will ever have Max. Max belongs to the racing more than Daniel can remember anyone else belonging to the racing. Max doesn't really care about anything else, and Daniel didn't really think, or want, Max to care about him or whatever. Max cares about winning, and so does Daniel. So when Daniel won, and they all got drunk in Monaco and ended up in Max's apartment, because it was bigger than anyone's, except maybe Lewis', and Daniel -begged- asked, Max -sighed and didn't quite roll his eyes as he- rolled his zipper down.

Daniel knew it wouldn't happen again the moment Max won the Championship. Their hug was immortalized for forever, and Daniel dutifully shared it on his own social media, and then promptly gave his phone to his manager before the picture finally disappeared from his grid. Just like he himself disappeared from the grid.

He resented Seb. That much he could admit. He resented Seb for being able to choose to leave. He resented Seb for winning. Most of all, he resented Seb for showing Red Bull what they could have - a golden boy for whom the worldd parted and who drove in circles like it was his only purpose in life, and who won every time.

He's looking at Seb now, in the VIP area. Retirement suits him, and he looks better than he did for the whole of last year. Nico is there too, and Daniel always resented the easy way him and Seb found their way around each other after only a couple of pointed jabs. Neither of them was as charming as Daniel, and still they somehow made it work. Still, they were both worth of adoration. Still, they both had what Daniel didn't have, and nobody could take it away from them.

"So how do you think is Charles handling his penalty?" Nico asks in English, and Seb laughs in his face.

"Nice try," he says, and Daniel knows he's missing something. "You know, I told him what Niki used to say, but that was a while ago. I don't know if he forgot."

Nico's gaze falters for a moment; the most feelings he will ever allow himself to show. "Niki used to say a lot of things, Sebastian, you have to be more specific."

Daniel catches the brief look Sebastian gives him from the side. "I'm talking about that thing he used to say usually when he git really annoyed. 'It doesn't matter if you're driving in circles, still you have to drive in better circles than the other nineteen guy'." He laughs, and it echoes in the sudden hollow of Daniel's chest. "Do you remember that?"

Nico laughs too, and Daniel has always thought Seb and Nico's laughs sounded very similar.

"Yeah," Nico says. "I remember."

Daniel turns his head to the skies. It looks like it will rain during the race. That should make it interesting. Max is good in the rain. He rubs his hand across his chest and sets his smile firmly on his face.

[gentlyjimin]

“If I could chose my dream, I just wanna stay right next to you.”  - kim namjoon, tokyo 

words: 1.3k

warnings: n/a, mention of religion 

work is unfinished, i am posting to see how well it is received.

------

“You know,” you started, eyes locked on the same person that your friend couldn’t help but glance at for the past half an hour, “for someone so confident, that guy sure does render you speechless.”

Unamused, Jimin turned to look at you.

“He’s not just some guy. He’s the guy.”

“The guy?” You repeated, brows raised. “What does that even mean, the guy?”

“Do you know who the guy is? Jeon Jungkook.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“No-no,” he scolded after catching your eye-roll. Jimin shifted in his seat and moved closer towards you, “he not only led our lovely rugby team to victory the moment he joined it, but he also-“

“Got rid of all the dickheads and makes sure the team takes care of drunk people at parties.” You finished for him, unable to suppress a smile at Jimin’s unphased expression. “The Vatican should make him a saint.”

Jimin’s huge crush on Jeon Jungkook was evident the moment the sport star turned the entire team around. You’d argue that it existed the moment Jimin saw Jungkook, but your friend was adamant that it didn’t. He was also adamant that he didn’t suit short hair, but everyone knew Jimin could very well pull off being bald if he wanted to.

Jimin continued to deadpan you.

“What,” you laughed, “Jungkook’s a good person, nobody has ever said otherwise. He may be the guy to you, but-“

“Oh?” A light voice suddenly cut you off. 

Speak of the devil and he will arrive. 

“The guy to you? Do you have anything to tell me, sweetheart?” Jungkook continued. He directed his question at Jimin as he sat down and stole one of the fries that sat in front of the other man.

“Nothing that you don’t already know,” Jimin answered with a wink, to which Jungkook laughed while continuing to munch on the fries.

As the two fell into a hushed conversation, you shifted your gaze away from your two friends. Although the three of you sat together, their conversation felt too private to listen to, even as a friend. Instead, you moved your gaze to where you last saw your own crush. He was still there, still working away. He was wearing a dark brown, long sleeved shirt that you noticed kept getting in the way as his fingers glided across the keyboard in front of him. The long sleeves kept shifting the pages of his book. He didn’t seem to mind, though. You found that admirable about him; not only did he look good in brown, but he was patient. It may seem silly, but you found that small things like pages moving when you don’t want them to move was big enough to irritate a lot of people, including you.

Not him, though.

Last week you saw a girl trip and spill her coffee all over his jeans and notes. You could feel your heart break as you watched the pages soak up the dark liquid, but he didn’t even look at them. He jumped out of his seat to help the girl the second she fell. You could faintly hear her apologize to him, but he told her to not worry and that they were just notes.

If you didn’t know better, you’d say you were in love with him. 

Jungkook was one thing, but the Vatican should consider Kim Namjoon a saint.

You couldn’t help but internally cringe at yourself. If you rolled your eyes at how in love Jimin is with Jungkook, Jimin would straight up vomit if he heard what you were thinking right now. 

“You know,” Jungkook’s voice brought you out of your thoughts while you considered what you could possibly wear to a saint-decleration, “I could introduce the two of you. He tutors me in Philo, we take the same class.”

You sighed, wishing so very badly that you could take him up on the offer, but you were too afraid that it would all go wrong. Although you considered yourself to be a fairly confident person, you were not blissfully ignorant. You and Namjoon have never spent time alone together. All that you know about him, you know because the two of you are close to the same person. 

Min Yoongi. Both of you were also familiar with Seokjin and although you considered him a friend, you knew that he was closer to Namjoon than he was to you. 

“Listen,” Jimin started, picking up on your hesitation, “Taehyung is throwing a party this weekend. I know for a fact that Seokjin will be there, which makes it more than likely that Namjoon will be there too.”

Jungkook nodded, “which makes it a perfect setting! You guys won’t be alone. If you hit it off, great. If you don’t, we can come rescue you.”

“Exactly,” Jimin continued, “but either way you’ll get to know whether this is something you want to pursue, or if you should leave it alone and move on.”

You gasped in fake-offense, “move on? How could I possibly move on?”

It was Saturday, 7:36pm and you were halfway through getting ready. You had been texting back and forth with Yoongi, who had confirmed that Namjoon would be there tonight. You had also reassured Yoongi that if he needed an out at any point during the party, you’d be there for him. 

You were aware of his social anxiety, and how much it took for him to attend events like the one tonight. Although you didn’t know the ins and outs of what he had to deal with, you knew enough to offer support and reassurance. When the two of you were 14, there was one particular school event that Yoongi had to attend, a school concert of sorts. He was forced into doing a piano solo, but his set was delayed and cancelled because he was unable to breathe from the nerves. That was the first time you saw the extent of what your childhood friend was dealing with. Since then you promised to be his rock, his stability if and whenever he should need it, if it would be helpful. Sometimes your presence was helpful, sometimes it wasn’t. But Yoongi never shoo-ed you away. Not once. So you stayed, each and every time. 

By the time you finished getting ready, Yoongi had already texted you that he would be there to pick you up in 10 minutes.

This is good. You told yourself. You’d finally get to talk to properly talk to Namjoon, see what he’s like. You loved spending time with Yoongi, and he loved spending time with Namjoon, so surely you would love to spend time with him too?

Of course you will. 

Why were you so nervous? You were never nervous to meet people. You looked hot, felt hot. Why were you nervous?

A horn sounded outside. Has it already been 10 minutes?

“Ooooooh,” Yoongi scanned you up and down as you slipped into the passenger seat, “you dressed up just for me?”

You laughed, “you like?”

“I do,” he laughed, pulling out of your driveway, “and I’m sure that he will too.”

Yoongi knew. Of course he knew. How could he not know? Your interest in Namjoon was clear when you interrogated your friend after each time the two of them hung out.

“Do you have a plan?”

“Ah yes,” you mused, “I will show up, seduce him and hook up in your car. You’ll leave the keys inside for me, right?”

You saw Yoongi roll his eyes.

“I don’t have a plan. I just hope it all works out, that’s all.”

“Why wouldn’t it work out?”

“What if he doesn’t like me?” You hated how that sounded.

Yoongi clicked his tongue.

“Why wouldn’t he? Not only are you hot, but you’re interesting. And as far as I can tell, that’s what he’s after. He likes people with substance. You have plenty of substance.”

You almost blushed. Compliments from Yoongi were not a common thing. This one you’d cherish.

“Can you just repeat that, I didn’t get a chance to record it.”

“Oh ha-ha. Save that attitude for Joon.”

Joon.

[x-ceirios-x]

don't want to want you

college au. desmin and dominic have spent a lot of time together, but desmin struggles to identify and admit the feelings he has for him.

warnings: mild cursing, slightly steamy bit but its for the plot (nothing graphic whatsoever), internalized homophobia and ableism, descriptions of anxiety

Desmin liked the cool feeling of the wall against his back as he leaned against it, closing his bedroom door behind him. He had three classes back to back, one of which he had to lecture at (which he hated), then another hour at the library for a midterm. His phone had been off since that morning when his mother called, only to criticize him for his career choice, again, with thinly veiled insults and back-handed compliments. It was yet another reminder of why he and Eleanor agreed to move out together the second they graduated. 

It was seven by the time he got home; he didn’t feel like eating dinner and went back to his room, deciding to relax with some music and a book. He blasted the old rock through his headphones—completely noise canceling, exactly how he liked them. He checked his phone first, though, skimming through notifications. He noticed Isabelle posted something on Instagram and mindlessly scrolled for a while when a text came through. 

Dominic Blackweather

heya handsome

Desmin rolled his eyes. He didn’t exactly enjoy the nicknames he gave him, but he would put up with them for his sake. Their relationship was…complicated, to say the least, but he enjoyed some of the things he got out of it. He was a good friend, but he refused to admit anything more between them beyond physical chemistry. 

Another text showed at the top of his screen. 

Dominic Blackweather

I’m bored. Wanna come over?

He thought for a moment, then stood. Surely leaving him on read for five minutes wouldn’t hurt him. Desmin took the headphones off of his ears and laid them around his neck, poking his head out the bedroom door. He didn’t see his sister, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t home. “El?” he called out, walking towards the kitchen. They had a whiteboard calendar for the week there, and when he read it, he remembered she was having a date night with James. He never liked him, but he learned to tolerate him for her sake. The faster she dumped him, though, the better. 

He shot a text to his sister quickly, telling her Dominic was coming over to give her fair warning. She sent back far too many winking emojis and he texted Dominic. 

Me

Eleanor is out. Come here?

 Dominic Blackweather

omw. bringing food

Me

I ate 

Dominic Blackweather

no u didn’t I’m bringing pizza

Me

No olives

Dominic Blackweather 

you got it 😉 

He sighed and left his phone on the counter, grabbing his book from his room and sitting on the couch until he heard a knock on the door. He checked his watch, noticing it had been about twenty minutes, which was good timing. “Come in,” he called across the small living room. 

He heard the hinges swing open and Dominic’s voice ring through the apartment. “Delivery!” he announced, laughing as he kicked the door behind him. “Extra cheese, no olives on my half, just for you.”

“You don’t like olives on pizza.”

“I don’t. But I thought of you.”

With a terrible smile, he sat on the couch next to him and threw the pizza box on the table. He grabbed one of the paper plates from on top of the box and dug in, serving himself two slices and leaving the box open for him to grab someone. Slowly, he did, taking a slice for himself. 

“It won’t kill you to eat some junk, man,” he said, mouth half-full of pizza. He sat up a little straighter, wiping some of the pizza grease off of the corner of his mouth. “Rough day or something?”

He curled his legs up to his chest and carefully balanced the plate on his knees. “You could say that,” he muttered, taking a quick bite of his pizza. 

Dominic nodded. “Five bucks says it's your mom.”

“I’m not paying you.”

“Bingo!” He laughed, excited for his victory over nothing, and took another bite of his pizza. Thankfully, this time he didn’t speak with his mouth full. “Tell you what. You tell me about your day, and when we’re done with this pizza, we can go back to your room and I’ll help you relax.”

He wouldn’t admit it, but the casual way he suggested such things flustered him. He hid behind the slice of pizza, eating intentionally slow so he could figure out how to respond to all that. After processing it all, he nodded, though he didn’t speak much, other than to say, “I don’t need to talk about it.”

He sighed at him. “Look, that’s your business. I offered. But I am not sitting my ass inside on a Friday night to not get laid. If you're gonna be lame, you enjoy your pizza and I’m going clubbing with Izzy.”

“I wasn’t rejecting you, Dominic, I was just saying we can skip the talking part.”

A wide grin spread across his face. “I was going to eat this entire pizza in one sitting, but I think that’s a bad idea, actually.”

Desmin made a face—as much as he enjoyed Dominic’s company, he still had a few habits he would classify as ‘teenage boy behavior’ and it was…slightly gross. “Brush your teeth first, please,” he muttered, almost under his breath. 

He laughed. “Anything for you, sweet cheeks.”

One of these days, Dominic was going to be the death of him. 

***

Desmin barely stepped inside his bedroom door when Dominic all but sprung on him, like a cat. Surprisingly, his actions were gentle, like he was trying to ease into their plans for the evening. One hand played with the hem of his shirt, and the other ran through his hair. Once this part of their evening started, he mentally closed himself off—he didn’t talk much, tried not to think, and just focused on Dominic in front of him. And after the day he had, he thought it was well deserved, too. 

He was many things, but he wasn’t patient. Dominic moved far too slowly, so he turned the two of them around and pushed him against the door, hands finding either side of his face and kissing him hard. He heard him mutter something about him being eager, but he decided to ignore it. 

After fumbling with his shirt to get it untucked, Dominic ran his hands up his sides, under his shirt. It sent a chill up his back and his shoulders tensed involuntarily. He barely thought when he moved next, just reached for his hands and took them both, pushing his wrists above his head. He pulled away, leaving Dominic chasing his lips, but his cold glare stopped him. 

“Don’t,” he muttered, tone flat and unimpressed. 

He watched as something flashed in his eyes, though he didn’t know exactly what. “Sorry,” he said, so his grip loosened on him. 

Dominic knew his rule full well. If they were going to hook up like this, touching was out of the question. He, first of all, didn’t like it. It felt strange and foreign to him and preferred to be the one doing it. However, he had a second reason, one that he never explicitly stated but he knew was generally understood: there were no attached feelings in this. And touching made it too intimate. 

He noticed Dominic seemed a little less enthusiastic after this, though he wasn’t sure what to do about it. He backed off a little, letting go of his wrists entirely and slowing his pace. He wanted nothing more than to keep moving, but he wasn’t the only person involved with all this. Even though he didn’t want to have any feelings attached to his relationships, he generally respected them as friends, if not something else. Dominic was his friend, first, and he didn't want to hurt him for whatever reason. 

“Talk to me, Dominic,” he muttered, lips leaving his and slowly trailing down his neck, stopping just above the collar of his shirt. “Nothing unless you tell me what you want.”

He felt his hand against his face, guiding him to look at him again. He spoke barely above a whisper, leaning into him. “You, Des,” he said. “Just you.”

***

He didn’t look at the clock again for several hours—the next time he did, he realized he’d fallen asleep for a little while and it was near two in the morning. Dominic was next to him, snoring quietly but sound asleep. He looked a little cold so he pulled the blankets over his bare arms, tucking him in a little more. Now woken up and likely unable to sleep for some time, he went out to the kitchen to get some tea and find the novel he’d been reading earlier. Once he got the tea, he decided to read on the couch, not wanting to wake Dominic with the light. 

His attempts weren’t entirely successful, considering he heard the door to his room squeak open, and as he looked over his shoulder, noticed that Dominic was padding towards him, rubbing his eyes. “What’re you doing up?” he mumbled, words slurred with sleep. “Come back to bed.”

The idea made him freeze for a moment—the way he phrased it, half asleep or not, sounded like this was something regular, something normal, something involved them spending the night in the others bed and it being comfortable and cozy in the morning, not an awkward walk of shame as he got back to his apartment fast enough to get ready for work. 

“I’ll finish my tea,” he said, trying to dismiss the anxious thoughts before they truly upset him. “I don’t mind if you sleep here, just go back to sleep.”

“It’s weird when you’re not there.”

Desmin grit his teeth, jaw tensing. He didn’t want to have this conversation right now, especially when he was trying to wind down for bed. “Go to bed, Dominic.”

He didn’t look over his shoulder at him, but he could hear the frown. He sat down on the other side of the bed, having gotten dressed in, apparently, a pair of his pajama pants and one of his hoodies. For a moment, he thought he looked adorable, but banished the idea immediately. There wasn’t a proper time for that. 

“Are we going to talk about this?” he asked, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch over his legs. 

Desmin closed his book with an impatient huff, leaving it on the coffee table next to the couch. “Talk about what, Dominic?”

“Don’t give me that look,” he said, head hanging to avoid him. He didn’t know what ‘look’ he was giving him, but apparently he didn’t enjoy it. He tried to look a little more patient but doubted it worked. “One moment—one moment you’re a great friend and we’re having out how normal people do. And then we have some fun for a while. I’m fine with that. But you act like I’m some…some disgusting thing for the next couple hours. Why?”

“I don’t think you’re disgusting.”

“That’s not what I asked. You certainly act like you do.”

He huffed—this was Dominic being argumentative, in his mind. He curled his knees to his chest, putting a barrier between the two of them. Clearly, this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to deal with, but Dominic was stubborn when he wanted to me. He wouldn’t drop it. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I thought we were just hooking up. I told you I didn’t want to get involved with anything serious,” he said, his tone plain and disinterested. He could tell it upset Dominic, but there was no point in hiding it. 

“What if that’s not what I want anymore?” The volume and pitch of his voice raised, hugging his arms tightly around himself. He took a deep breath, clearly trying to relax. “I know I’m not kidding myself. Nora sees it too. There’s something more between us but you refuse to admit it.”

Desmin stared at him, eyes wide as he spoke. There wasn’t—he couldn’t believe he would suggest something like that. This is why he didn’t want to get involved with feelings—it made things complicated and messy, and he didn’t like either of those things. “What are you saying, Dominic? That you’d like to date me or something?”

“Is the idea of that actually so revolting?” he asked. “What’s so wrong with me that you think it's so terrible?”

He opened his mouth to say something, but bit his tongue. Literally. There was nothing wrong with him, he needed to understand that. Nothing he said was going to reassure him of that, he was too upset about all this. But this is why he didn’t do friendships and he didn’t do relationships. Before Dominic, it was strange if he saw the same person twice to hook up—this was new territory for him, too, and he was pushing it farther than he was ready for. 

“You don’t understand.” He took a sip of his tea, though he noticed the cup shook slightly. He hated that he did that; if his face didn’t show his anxiety, his hands did. Eleanor, affectionately, referred to him as a chihuahua and received many death glares for it. In a situation like this, he didn’t want to show how much the conversation affected him. 

Dominic crawled forward a little, sitting just in front of him on the couch. “Then help me to, Desmin. You don’t talk to me—not as much as you used to. I can’t know what’s going on in your mind if you don’t tell me.” He reached towards him, going to hold his cheek, but he flinched away just as his fingers brushed his skin. 

A million thoughts ran through his mind at once. He wanted to run, go back to his room and keep the door shut, pretending like the world outside of there didn’t matter. Unfortunately, it did. Eleanor spent ages trying to convince him that he was allowed to feel things, and it made him more human than he liked to act, but he struggled. When it was something he wasn’t used to, it panicked him. His chest felt tight and there was a pit in his stomach, eating away at any confidence he had a few hours prior. Somewhere in the back of his mind, though, there was a strange, warm feeling. It was Dominic, after all. Besides Eleanor, he was the person he trusted most in this world and he knew he could be himself, at least to a degree, around him. 

His voice shook as he tried to explain. “All my life, I…” he trailed off, the words leaving his mind as he spoke them. For such an eloquent writer, he struggled to speak frequently, and it frustrated him to no end. “I’ve just learned, over the years, that this—” he gestured between the two of them— “this isn’t possible. It’s not realistic for me.”

Dominic looked like he just kicked a cat when he said that. “Why would you think that?” he asked, very carefully placing his hand on top of his—this time, he didn’t jerk away from him. “Desmin—”

He felt the tightness in his chest worsen, though he forced himself to continue. “I’ve spent the last twenty years being told there’s something wrong with me. Mentally, emotionally—I’ve never been normal, and I finally resign myself to living a life isolated and alone, then you come along and ruin that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you—”

“For the love of God, Dominic, there is.” He gasped quietly, but he didn’t pay it much mind, too wrapped up in his own head by now. “My mother spent all of my teenage years telling me that there was something wrong with me because I was too involved with my damn books, so I threw myself into school work. But that wasn’t enough because I struggled making friends, unlike Eleanor who was the most popular girl and had to drag her friendless brother out. I had no social skills, so when I tried to make friends, it blew up in my face. Then I get older, and I started to realize that I didn’t have an interest in dating, then I realized I didn’t have an interest in dating girls, and—“ he cut himself off with an aggressive cough, the words getting stuck in his throat. He took a deep breath and started over. “My mom went through my phone and found out. Wish I could say it was the first time she hit me, but it wasn’t. Just probably the worst.”

He refused to look Dominic in the eye, pulling his legs tighter to his chest. He still felt tight, but there was something a little relaxing about getting it all off his chest. The silence seemed to last forever, though—he expected him to say something sooner, but all he heard was the muffled noises of the city around the apartment. 

He reached for his mug to take a sip of his tea, but as he picked it up, it slipped out of his hand and hit the floor. He let out a string of curse words under his breath, seeing the mess of broken glass and reddish brown liquid all over the wood floor. 

“I’ll get it,” Dominic said, standing quickly to grab paper towels and something to clean up the glass. He opened his mouth to protest but lost the words the moment he did. He just laid his head on his knees and took deep, deliberate breaths. 

The next few minutes passed in silence, the only noise was the ruffling of paper or glass scraping the floor as he swept. After a moment, he felt the couch sink next to him and Dominic sit, leaning against his shoulder. 

“Can I tell you something that may or may not make you feel better?” he asked. “You don’t have to talk.” Desmin nodded, so he continued. “I don’t think any of that stuff’s wrong with you. It just makes you you. And I think you’re clever and sarcastic and wicked smart, you’re kind of a prick sometimes but I’ve learned to love it about you. And you care about the people you’re around, and you’ve got a heart that’s so much more involved than you like to pretend it is, you love learning and helping others learn—and you’re just confused and scared and we can figure it out, alright?”

He didn’t respond, though he listened to every word he spoke. Sitting next to him like this was comfortable, moreso than he wanted to admit. He didn’t lean into him, but he didn’t pull away either. Not when he leaned his head on his shoulder, either. Confused and scared—he hated the idea that someone thought this about him, but maybe if it was Dominic, he could learn to live with it. But out of all of it, he hung onto one word. 

We.

-

[mae-gi-writes]

blurred lines (1) || k. tsukishima

You have more than 99 problems in this world, and your student Tsukishima Kei is one of them.

Genre: fluff, teacher! fem. reader x student! Tsukishima

A/N: Hey gaiiis <3 been thinking of Tsukishima for a few days. Just wanna say that I do not encourage relationships between students and teachers, and that if you're uncomfortable with that trope, please don't read it. Just want to note that Tsukishima is 18 yrs in this and the teacher is definitely on the young side so relationships like these are definitely not impossible.

Enjoyy!!! <3

ONE | TWO

--------- Part 1 ---------

He's flirting with you.

You know he is.

It's all in those under-lidded stares that he sends your way when he thinks you're not looking. It makes your skin prickle with a sensation akin to uncomfortable and yet, you're not sure yourself why you keep on blatantly ignoring it in favour of keeping up a facade for the whole class, the entire school.

It's more than a normal occurrence for students to hit on teachers, especially the young ones who they think they have a chance with. The truth is, you're aware of the level of professionalism you must keep up in order for this to be smooth sailing, but it really isn't your fault that your tender age of twenty-five makes you so much more approachable to those who are on the brink of eighteen.

"Honestly miss Y/N, you could wear our uniform and we'd probably look the same."

"I think she'd look even younger than us. Maybe sixteen?"

It is in those moments, really, that you curse your good genes. You've had this problem, showing your ID to the bartender so that he gets to double-check a potential fraud and getting a free pass on the bus for being excused as a high school kid. That never bothered you so much before.

Until now.

"Like I said, the Inter-High Volleyball Tournament will be starting in two weeks so I really want you all to come and cheer for our school, even if that means on TV," you are telling your homeroom class, half of them barely awake at eight in the morning.

You tap your pen against the table for attention, and heads sleepily look up from the depths of their desks. Or arms.

"Wakey wakey, guys. Did you hear anything I said?" you ask with a raised brow.

One of your students yawns, "yes sensei."

"Can we go and see the match?" another asks.

"You totally can," You flash a grin, "the schedule is on the notice board outside of class with all the timings and dates. I think we have three or four matches in our school. And the rest will be outside of school."

"Do you think they'll win this year, Sensei?" the one sitting at the front asks you.

"I really hope so. They've been training harder, right?" You take a look at your entire class, "aren't there any of you boys playing-- Ah, Tsukishima-kun. You're on the volleyball team. How is that going?"

Gold eyes over rimmed glasses peer up at you from the back of the class. The tall, lanky boy sits up with a face that suggests you've just disturbed him. Or disgusted him. Or both, who knows?

"Fine."

His answer is curt. But you're not fazed.

"When's your first match?" You lean forward on your desk and cross your arms, "are you playing first set?"

"Why sensei ? You gonna show up?"

"I sure will."

His smirk drops for a second. But you press on still, "so? Are you playing first set or not?"

"Y/N Sensei! I'm playing!" One of the shorter students who always manages to place a smile on your face, jumps up from his seat, "you'll cheer for me, right Sensei?!"

"Yes, Hinata. I will," you can't help but grin as he whoops and punches the air in victory, a real man-child who still loves dreaming about the big stuff.

From the back row, you hear a snort only to see Taukishima lean back on his chair until he teeters in mid-air, "it's just a volleyball game."

"It's not just a volleyball game." Hinata retorts, scowling at the blonde.

"Fancy words coming from our most famous bencher."

"I'm not a bencher! I--I got put in first set this time!"

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, "congratulations."

"Tsukishima-kun," you cut the blonde off with a stern look, "that's enough."

You think he has half a mind to retort back with a witty insult. But his eyes lock on yours for a long moment, before he rolls them and slumps back in his seat. You would've sighed in relief, but there had been something in his eyes, something you can't quite place.

Your first year as a homeroom teacher is tough. From dealing with kids skipping classes and others doing drugs in the bathroom during lunch breaks, you barely have time to sit down at work.

You go watch Karasuno's game as promised, and coach Ukai greets you with surprising enthusiasm as he ushers you up on the court.

"I don't think I should be here," you stutter, eyes quickly flitting around and flinching at how huge the volleyball players are. Are these really high schoolers?

"Nonsense! I think the boys would be happy to see you! Specially the third-years," he grins at you, "you're their homeroom teacher, aren't you?"

You nod meekly, "i'm new though. I just joined this semester."

"Oh, you're the one replacing Hikari-san?"

"Yes."

"Ah great! We needed some fresh blood in the Arts Department--"

"SENSEI! YOU CAME!" Hinata practically bounds towards you like a stray dog ready to be petted, "I'm going to play so well tonight! Honestly, you need to look out for my killer spikes! I've trained so hard for it--"

"Shut up, Hinata-boke," Karasuno's ace setter, Kageyama, snaps at the ginger. He then gives you a little bow in greeting, "morning, sensei."

"You shut up! Who do you think you are? I was talking to sensei--"

"I said SHUT UP!"

"YOU SHUT UP--"

"Sorry about that," a familiar alto reaches your ears and you turn, stumbling back a little upon seeing Tsukishima behind you, "they hate each other's guts."

"I see that," you dquint up at him, "you didn't grow over the one day I didn't see you, right?"

He smirks, "who knows?"

You swat his shoulder playfully, "I don't think you'd be so cocky if you knew about your semester grades."

"I'm always in the top percentile."

"Not this time, Tsukishima-kun. Tell me," you throw him a sidelong glance, "is it volleyball that's distracting you? Or..." your voice lowers dramatically, "are you actually going out with someone?"

You relish in the way heat spreads over his face, though he decides that staying quiet is the best option, mumbling that he'll come by your office to figure out what went wrong.

And he might be a sarcastic, snobby young man. But you know that deep inside -- and from poring over Tsukishima's stufent records -- that he's had some issues with his older brother.

Surprisingly, he keeps his promise, practically rolls into at the teacher's office as soon as the bell rings for lunch.

"Y/N sensei, I think he's looking for you," one of your colleagues call you out, to which you quickly scramble to usher in the said tall blonde.

He takes a seat next to your desk and you can't help but notice that it's too small for him as you pull up his school record and his student documents.

"Right," you click on his name and his file pops up, a staggering line of beautiful As and A stars, "well, you've been pretty consistent since first-year, which is good because universities are bound to look out for your entire college history."

He makes a sound of acknowledgment, folds his too-long legs and adjusts his headphones.

"However, as from this year, you've dropped from the 90th percentile into the 75th in most subjects," you spare him a glance, but his eyes are fixed on the monitor before you, "do you see that?"

He nods. Good. So at least he's aware and he's not arguing. A good start.

"Okay," leaning back into your chair and swivelling to face him, you lean forward and allow yourself to read his features.

Then, in the most gentle voice possible, you ask:

"Are you okay, Tsukishima-kun?"

He doesn't answer. Not instantly, anyway. You notice his hand picking at the skin off his palm and wish to grab it, pry his fingers open. A nervous tick of his, surely.

There must be something else, something that's going on.

"Look," you try once more, "I'm not going to ask you what it is that is going on. That's your private matter. But if it's affecting your grades, that's not a good thing, especially someone who easily kept them up throughout those three years."

You search his eyes in hopes of finding something there, but his gaze is glued onto the wooden surface of your tabletop. Behind you is the usual cacophony of teachers arguing, gossiping, anything really. But you pay no mind, eyes solely focused on the blonde before you.

"I just want you to know that you can talk to me, as cliché as that sounds," you continue in a gentle murmur, "if there's anything I can do, I will. Okay?"

A pause. Then, his head dips into a single nod.

"Okay," you smile, "see you then, Tsukishima-kun."

You turn back towards your desk as the said young man stands and strides past your desk, and you would've missed the silent gratefulness in his eyes if you hadn't turned back just in time to find him already watching you.

"Sensei."

"Yes?"

He hesitates, before saying, "thanks."

You swear something in your heart flutters as you smile back at him, "pleasure."

----

It doesn't occur to you that Tsukishima is a man. Not when you're surrounded by a horde of manchildren every day of the week and plus, teachers have boundaries. You're one to follow them to the letter.

So it takes you by surprise one day, during the annual volleyball camp where you'd volunteered, when he acts like one.

It's nine in the evening on the second day of camp, and it becomes increasingly clear from the amount of work around the volleyball court that you're not about to go to bed anytime soon. You hear Ukai's voice fill the empty space when he calls out your name, looking up just in time to be greeted with his grin and a takeaway box of food.

(Not that you'd volunteered just because free food was in the deal. Not at all)

"Hey," he says as he reaches your side, "you missed dinner."

"Yeah sorry, got caught up trying to clean this mess," you gesture to the sea of volleyballs littering the court.

Ukai grimaces, "they're the ones who are supposed to do that. Come on, I'll give them a good scream and a few push-ups."

"I think they're all knocked out anyway," you chucklec "it's alright. I'm almost done--"

"No no, hold on and take this," he thrusts the takeaway box in your hands before you can protest jogs away with a yell, "gimme a sec and they'll come to you!"

You laugh, "thanks for the food!"

Returning back to the chore at hand, you sigh and with renewed energy to keep going, you crouch down to pick up two balls at once. The quicker you're done with this, the quicker you'll get to your mattress laid down for female managers and teachers respectively. It sounds glorious when you think about it now.

"Need help?"

Yelping in shock, you lose balance and topple onto your butt. You look up to see Tsukishima, ball in hand, looking like he just got out of the shower.

Soft blonde tendrils curl over his forehead, still wet and spiky, towel thrown carelessly over his shoulders.

You straighten up, a slight scowl on your face, "Ukai told you to come over?"

"No," he tilts his head as he extends a hand to help you up. You take it gratefully, "I heard someone talking to themselves. Turns out it was you."

"I knew it was too true. Tsukishima-kun would never help out on his own," you hate the fact that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. Your hand still feels warm from his touch, "so, what's up with you roaming around in the dark?"

He has the decency to flush slightly, "I was showering."

"Oh were you now? Not secretly meeting up with anyone in the dark?" You tease as you resume picking up balls. After a bout of hesitation, Tsukishima follows, "you know you can tell me right? I was your age once."

"No offense sensei, but you look the same age as us," he throws ball after ball into the metal basket with effortless grace, "and no, I'm not meeting anyone after dark."

"Well I'm still older than you," you scowl, "and you should! Why not? This is the prime time for you to explore what love is."

"Barely older," he retorts, "also, weren't you the one telling me that I should be focusing on my grades?"

"Yeah but I mean, you're not right? That's not what's causing your grades to slip."

He scowls behind his glasses, "I don't need a reminder of that, sensei."

"Ah come on, lighten up a little! You know, when I was your age--"

He interrupts you with a snort. But you continue on:

"--when I was your age, I remember failing my mocks because I was too invested in making money."

"You worked?"

"As a waitress. Used to clean tables and get screamed at. But it was worth the money, considering my financial situation," a sad smile etches across your lips at the thought as you continue picking your way through the balls, "my family wasn't well off. It was a tough time."

There's silence while you finish stacking all balls into the metal cart, and you realize that maybe you've gone too far.

You try to quickly remedy the situation with a joke, "but all's well that ends well. That was a long time ago. So when I say I understand you, I mean it-- Whoa hold up!" You blink, "you can actually hold a ball with one hand?!"

He cocks an eyebrow at you, turning the ball in his hand with ease, "you're the one with tiny hands, sensei."

"I do not!" You protest by holding your hand out against the light of the gym court, "they're normal sized. You're the one with giant monster hands."

Tsukishima holds his hand out beside yours, which makes difference is even clearer.

"Damn, what did you eat to get so big?" You ask.

"Didn't eat."

"Liar," tilting your head up, you're struck by seeing his chin, his face closer than you would've liked.

Not that you're planning to.

If you tilt your head further back, you can lean onto his chest.

Voices suddenly echo through the gymnasium and you jump away from Tsukishima, face suddenly warming up at how close you actually were as Hinata and Kageyama appear in your field of vision. But it's okay, because they're distracted by their bickering as usual and barely assess what had just happened, allowing you to murmur out an excuse and slip away unnoticed.

His eyes find yours, and your breath suddenly stills.

It doesn't stop there. On the contrary, the moments just seem to double two-fold, especially when you're trying really hard to avoid him.

Like when you have a load of paperwork to carry from your class to your office desk, practically wobbling about on your heels until suddenly the pile is lifted out of your arms only to give way to a grumbling Tsukishima, already leading the way down the corridor.

Or when you're on duty and watching over the kids in the playground. He'd somehow pop up next to you, exchanging conversations about anything and everything.

"Not that I don't enjoy your company, Tsukishima-kun. But don't you want to talk to your friends during breaktime?" You glance down at the unopened juice box in his hand, "is that all you're having?"

He scowls, proceeding to open it up anyway as if he's being forced to do so, "I'm supposed to be training."

"Volleyball? Why aren't you then?"

"I needed a break."

There's a pause. The slightest hint that maybe something might be wrong with that sentence.

"Is volleyball not something you enjoy?" You ask gently.

He takes a moment, honey-eyed gaze overlooking the football field as he leans back against the building wall, "I'm not sure. Why do I have to put so much effort in a hobby?" He shrugs half-heartedly, `it's just volleyball."

"Well, if it makes you happy, why shouldn't you?"

Surprised, his eyes flick to yours and once again you're struck by the intensity of his stare.

You look away, decide to focus your gaze on a bunch of boys laughing at each other instead, "do you like Volleyball, Tsukishima-kun?"

He bristles. Takes another pause.

"I don't know."

A smile dances across your lips then, "maybe you should start with asking yourself that question."

You know, in the depths of your heart, that you shouldn't be engaging in such conversations with one of your top students. Tsukishima is bright, always on top of his grades despite his small slip at the beginning of the year. He can go far, can reach far, if he wants to.

But you don't want him to regret his choices. You don't want him to go down a path just because society said so.

A few days after your conversation finds you deep in administrative work at your desk, where Tsukishima finds you on the brink of a breakdown.

"Oh, hey Tsukishima-kun," you hope he doesn't notice the blue aprons underneath your eyes.

Rubbing your face and taking a deep breath, you try for a smile when you look up at him, "what's up?"

He presses his lips together, eyes glancing back and forth as if to make sure the office is devoid of people.

You gesture towards the chair, "why don't you sit down?"

He does and you continue, "anything you need? Wouldn't expect you to still be around at--" you sneak a peak at your watch, "--five in the evening on a Friday."

"I could say the same for you."

Grinning, you hold up your to-do list for him to see, "as you can see, I have quite an extensive list of things to do so. And you?"

He waits a moment, "can I...talk to you?"

"Oh," you straighten instantly, sympathy filling you at how lost he seems to be, "sure, yeah. What's on your mind?"

Tsukishima picks at his finger pads, probably nervous since he's not one to talk about his feelings to anyone. To say that you're glad he's opening up to you is an understatement.

When he speaks next, his voice is rough, filled with an emotion you can't quite place.

"My brother was a volleyball player."

You blink, "really?"

His head dips into a nod, "I...I always admired him, when I was younger."

You don't think you've ever heard Tsukishima speak for so long and yet, as he told you how his disappointment in his brother's lies influenced his outlook on volleyball, how he thought it was stupid for one to even place such importance on a sport that barely did anything for him, you can't help but catch a glimpse of the frail, self-conscious child trapped in a young man's body, still confused and still hurt by the happenings of his past.

The silence that prevails once he's done is heavy, laden with the thick coat of unease and awkwardness that causes your heart to squeeze painfully.

It's like a trigger.

A trigger you've pulled.

You bite down onto your lower lip and lean your arms onto your desk, towards the said blonde, as you speak softly, "what is it that you want to tell me, Tsukishima-kun?"

You might have imagined the way he leans into your touch, just a little.

Because as soon as these words leave your mouth, his head turns away from you as silent tears cascade down his cheeks in silvery hot trails. A mixture of shock and hurt jolts you forward to grab a tissue, hold it out to him in a silent gesture of comfort.

He takes it, tears now barely concealed as his shoulders jump up and down with emotion, taking off his glasses to cry into his palms. The weight finally falls and Tsukishima crumbles underneath its heaviness and, as sympathy slowly engulfs your chest and causes tears to prick the back of your eyes, your hand reaches out to his shoulder.

His bluntness stings the air. There's so much anger, so much resentment in such a simple sentence. It makes your jaw clench. Something squeezes in your heart.

"I don't want to be like him."

"You're not your brother," you're quick to interrupt firmly, willing him to look into your eyes. He does after a moment, when your words finally catch his attention, "You're not him, and your love for volleyball has nothing to do with you being like your brother. You two are two different people. But that's not the point here, is it?"

"Tsukishima-kun," you murmur out as your hand smoothes over his shoulder, "I --"

His eyes searches your gaze and you almost forget to breathe because god damn, Tsukishima's eyes are even more mesmerizing when they're glistening like fresh teardrops.

Tsukishima continues, finally breaking through whatever shell that had been keeping him chained up inside his own mind, "I don't want to end up so disappointed that I waste my life. I don't want to be him. I don't want to love volleyball like he did, and--"

"What's important to ask yourself is whether you love volleyball or not. Isn't it?"

He wipes his cheek with the back of his hand. He sniffles, then blows his nose into the tissue you gave him.

"I love volleyball."

Those words trigger affection in you, and you can't help but break into a smile at how genuine he sounds.

"Then that should be enough for now, right?" you say.

"Right," he croaks.

It takes him a little more time to calm down and you sit by his side through it all, gently rubbing up and down his shoulder while whispering words of comfort.

"You'll be okay," you tell him with tenderness lacing your tone, "you don't have to figure it out right now."

"I know," he sniffles, before a sigh escapes his lips. Though his eyes are red-rimmed, it seems as though he's finally relieved himself of the things that were worrying him.

"Do you want something to drink? I'll get you some tea," you make a move to stand from your chair, only for a hand to grasp your wrist.

You look back at Tsukishima, who doesn't look at you as he rasps out, "wait."

Your body halts, air catching in your throat.

Silence. Then, a small tug.

You stumble, until you feel his temple press against your side. Heat spreads through the back of your neck like wildfire.

You don't dare breathe. You don't dare move.

If one was to see the two of you, you'd be treading in hot, boiling water.

Tsukishima's breaths are warm as they fan against your arm and his grip merely tightens, as if hoping you won't pull away and take that moment of selfishness from him.

But you know that fighting would be futile. Not when he's so tormented and practically battling against himself. If there's one moment where you can step out of being a teacher and acting as a normal human being would, it's right now.

So you allow your arm, the one he's gripping, to slide out of his hold. Then, you gently rest your hand along the back of his head, smoothing over his blonde strands and marveling at how soft it feels under your touch.

"You'll be okay," you keep on repeating it like a mantra, "you'll be okay. I promise."

----

He avoids you like the plague after that.

And though you should've guessed this would happen, it still stings to think that his first reaction is to scamper away from the one person whom he'd allowed himself to be vulnerable with.

Oh you catch glimpses of him in homeroom. Most of the time, he's either asleep or not present at all, getting into the habit of coming late maybe to skip seeing your face altogether. It hurts more than you'd like to admit; the fact that Tsukishima is too ashamed to even look at you in the face.

You know you did nothing wrong (apart from maybe accepting his touch) but why does this feel so wrong to you?

"Y/n sensei?"

You jolt out of your bubble, surprised to find coach Ukai gazing down at you with amusement.

"What's up, sensei? You lookin' a little green."

"I'm alright," you swallow thickly, before trying for a smile, "and you?"

His smile drifts away, "did something happen?"

"No, just--"

"Student problems?"

Pressing your lips together, you briefly debate whether to ask him about the said young man running through your mind.

“Tsukishima-kun,” you start off quietly, “he’s been acting really off these days so I couldn’t help but wonder if he’s okay. He’s also in my homeroom class but you know how he is,” you try to laugh it off, “he’s not one to talk about his feelings.”

“You’re right,” Ukai hums, “he’s built like a brick wall, that one.”

You let out a small chuckle, “so you don’t know what’s going on either?”

“Not that I can think of, unfortunately,” Ukai peers down at you with a raised eyebrow, “though…he’s not one to be impulsive. Maybe you should ask him directly. He might talk to you. You’re his homeroom teacher after all.”

Ukai’s right. You do have that authority. And you intend to use it.

It’s a few days right after the last lesson for the day that you manage to corner the tall blonde right in the middle of practice just as he’s coming out of the changing rooms. He’s just as surprised to see you, blinking down at your face as a small frown settles between his eyebrows.

“Sensei?”

“Hey, Tsukishima-kun,” you offer him a small smile, what you hope is a gesture of friendliness, “can we have a chat?”

It takes a moment before he nods, and proceeds to follow you outside the gymnasium as a trickle of first-years run past in a flurry of excited voices. You round the corner, find a private spot where you can lean against the wall. Tsukishima copies your movements and you’re all too aware of his hot, searing gaze intent on your face. He has a way of looking, with those honeydew eyes of his, that makes your skin prickle, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in alert.

“What is it, sensei?” He asks after a long bout of silence in which you’re still trying to contemplate what to say. If there’s anything to say.

Biting down on your lip as you try and organize your thoughts, you start off by asking, “how have you been?’

He’s stiff. You can see it in his muscles, in the tension in his jaw.

“Fine.”

Fine. Just fine.

You shuffle from one foot to the other, “I was just asking since…you know, it’s been a rough couple of days for you and—“

“I’m fine, sensei.”

He cuts you off with such icy coldness it makes you flinch, and for a second, remorse flashes across his face, before it settles back into a nonchalant stare.

“Alright,” you manage to clench your jaw in hopes that your lips wouldn’t tremble from the sudden sting of tears at the corner of your eyes, before nodding and pushing yourself off the wall, “alright then. Have a good day, Tsukishima-kun.”

Turning your head back to Tsukishima, you don’t dare meet his eye for fear of what you might see there.

So you stride off without looking back, not at all ready for the hand that catches the back of your elbow and makes you stumble back.

“Please,” your voice shakes with emotion, “let go of me.”

You were all too aware of how people like Tsukishima worked; they bite when they don’t mean to, just like angry dogs abandoned by their owners, and you know that talking to him when he’s still feeling so humiliated will do more harm than gone.

He does as told, even takes a step back as if to give you space. That’s when you turn to face him fully.

“Yes?”

It’s him that’s biting his lower lip this time, looking away as a hand comes up to scratch the back of his head. Gone is the sourly-faced Tsukishima and in his place, is a tall kid embarrassed by his earlier behavior. It almost looks like he’s getting ready for a scolding.

“Sorry sensei,” he takes a breath, “I…didn’t mean that.”

“Good. As you should.”

Another pause where you don’t quite know what to say, and him neither it seems.

When you speak next, your tone is softer, “and how have you really been?”

Tsukishima needs time, and you find that out when slowly, but surely, he starts answering your questions with more elaborate responses. You prod, and he gives, and the more you do, the more comfortable he seems to become with opening up to you; he tells you about how your conversation has got him thinking about what he wishes to do in life, about how it’s impossible to look at his brother in the face after every volleyball practice, about how he wishes he didn’t even like volleyball in the first place and when you laugh, he flushes red and mutters that talking to you is just another form of embarrassment.

“I’m your sensei,” you keep on chuckling, “of course I want to know these things. What would I be here for, otherwise?”

He mumbles something too soft for you to hear and you grin, cocking your head to the side, “what was that?”

“You don’t feel like it.”

You blink, “feel like what?”

Honey-gold eyes lock on yours.

“You don’t feel like a sensei.”

The words struggle to make sense in your head.

And then…it clicks.

“Oh,” your face suddenly feels incredibly hot and uncomfortable and— had someone turned on the heat? “Uhm…I mean, that’s a—uhm…”

He doesn’t respond, though he doesn’t need to.The silence, the way his eyes search your face…suddenly, everything is speaking volumes. Every action, every single word is amplified with a multitude of unspoken possibilities.

This is not right, your mind chimes, this is not right at all.

And yet, your heart starts beating faster. So much so that your eyes drop to the ground and away from the said blonde in question.

You're too wrapped up in your own head that you jump as he steps forward, backs you into the wall and making it imppssible not to comply.

"I--" the words get stuck in the back of your throat, "Tsukishima-kun, you shouldn't--we shouldn't--"

But your words dissolve atop your tongue as soon as your eyes find his, and in his orbs you feel the jaggered emotion that rests there, the intensity of that sudden desire that makes you giddy and terrified at the same time. Without warning, his hand reaches out and, with just a beat of hesitation, curls a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

This action sends your heart sky-rocketing to the moon. You can’t breathe, for fear that doing so would make someone catch you out.

“Tsukishima-kun,” your voice, which you’d hoped would come out as warning, is merely a soft, broken murmur of stuttered words. “That’s—you can’t—do that.”

He stays quiet, still eyeing you like you’re the pivotal axis around which revolves his entire universe.

“OI TSUKISHIMA—Oh! Y/N Sensei?”

A yelp tangles at the back of your throat the moment you stagger to the side, away from the said young man as your eyes find Yamaguchi’s confused ones, “Tsukishima-kun was just—uhm— he was helping me! Fix my hair! Right?”

You throw the blonde a look, but he just keeps on gazing down at you wordlessly as you force out a laugh, “a—anyway, I was just talking about Tsukishima’s university applications. But I’ll be off—right now actually! See you tomorrow!”

And you dash away without looking back, and willing to ignore the way your heart and your mind seem to replay that earlier moment again and again like a broken video record.

——————

What is this? What is going on here?

“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Kuroo breaks you out of your bubble by sticking a cool beer can by your cheek. You yelp, slapping his shoulder in response before realizing that you’ve been mumbling to yourself out loud for the past fifteen minutes of arriving at Kuroo’s doorstep.

He’d taken one look at your face and knew that there was something not quite right about the way your cheeks flushed, or the way you kept avoiding eye contact and shuffling your feet like a child ready to be scolded for something you knew hadn’t been right.

“You need to tell me what’s going on,” Kuroo cracks open his own beer, chugging one large gulp and sighing in relief as he falls back onto the couch, “for me to know how I can help out.”

You sip on your own beer, still distracted by the memory of Tskushima’s fingers against your cheekbone, playing with your hair.

“Hello?” Kuroo’s knee nudges yours, “earth to Y/N? Or did you lose yourself on the way?”

He realizes you’re not chuckling at his lame joke as you usually would. Sitting up and taking a better look at your face, he prods you once more, “hey c’mon. Just tell me. What happened? What’s got you so upset?”

“I’m not upset,” you mumble.

“Oh finally,” he says with a roll of his eyes, “she speaks.”

“It’s just—“ your teeth settle upon your bottom lip, nibbling as you continue, “you know Tsukishima Kei right? You remember you told me you played against him last year?”

“Yeah?” He drags the word out expectantly, “and?”

You recount him the summary of the story, leaving out the part where you thought your heart was about to burst out of your chest and how flustered you were afterwards that you’d found refuge in the women’s staff bathroom, a hand on your chest and the other atop your cheek.

Kuroo’s eyes are wide by the time you’re done. He gapes at you like you’ve just grown another pair of eyes and the attention is irritating.

“What?” You snap, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“Wait—you’re talking about Tsukishima…the blonde dude with glasses?”

“The very one.”

“You mean to say—hold on, let me rephrase this correctly,” he sounds like he’s having so much fun you wish to bash his head in with the beer can in your hand. You decide to sip on your drink instead, “you’re saying that Tsukishima Kei, the guy who’s always scowling and hates socializing with people, actually likes you?”

“I think he likes me,” you correct him, “there’s a difference.”

“Oh shit,” and you watch in horror as a grin splits across your cousin’s face, “nooo shit. Tsukishima, crushing on you.”

“You’re not helping, Kuroo.”

“Sorry,” he shakes his head, “it’s just—Tsukishima. God. I never thought he’d be the one. So? Do you like him back?”

“That’s not the point!”

“Oh,” Surprise spreads over Kuroo’s features as he takes in yours, “you like him too, don’t you?”

“I--No, I mean--"

"You do."

"I--"

Kuroo bursts out laughing in your face as embarrassment flames up through your face and suddenly, the room gets a little hotter with every passing second.

"This isn't funny," you scowl, "this is wrong in every way possible--"

"And yet..." Kuroo throwa you a pointed look, "you're not completely against the idea. Or am I wrong here?"

His question stabs you right in the chest as the reality, the dangerous territory suddenly starts to seep into you. You can get arrestes for encouraging this kind act, even go to jail if things get out of hand.

Kuroo probably notices the sudden silence on your end, for he leans over to give your shoulder a little pat, "hey, don't worry. Just ignore him if you think that's best for you."

"It's not that easy," you mutter into your beer, "I care about him, but I obviously can't let this go further than it should."

"I'd say that's a bit harsh, considering that this is Tsukishima we're talking about. It must've taken one heck of courage to man up like he did--"

"I'm his teacher, tetsurou," you calling him by his first name gets his attention. He knows you're not playing around, "that's just not right."

And will never be, no matter how much you look at it.

-----

A/N: Part 2 up soon!

[bethanysnow]

Crying on Prom night prt. 2

The groups that made up Hawkins social hierarchy fled to the cafeteria. Jocks, nerds, popular kids, rejects…... everyone else. It made the small-town Indiana circle of life. Eddie and hellfire club in their matching shirts sat at their table. While Y/n was coming in a bit later to take her seat on the right-hand side of their leader.

“Who are you?” Gareth asked with a mischievous glint in his eye “didn’t think we let normie’s at our table- “

Eddie threw a pretzel at his friend’s head.

           “Overlord’s have demands. There are things we must make peace with or else we will suffer even more” Y/n explained to the table. Overlords were the shorthand for any parental figure the hellfire club had attachments too. Y/n’s parents were nice people, just very well to do and interested in keeping up appearances. “If you think I look like a normie then my disguise must really be working” she smirked.

Eddie glanced over his best friend again. It was rare to see her in a dress, thought she looked…. well rather pretty. Not like that was a weird thing to think about your friends. No not at all. She just- it was different. Not different bad, just- not her normal thing.

Seeing Eddie look at her she thought this would be her opportunity.

           “Speaking of…normie stuff uh- Munson…I was thinking- “

As she goes to pick up her bag with the tickets in them the fire alarm starts ringing as a dweeb from detention tries to escape the principal. Everyone starts running out of the building, yelling, panicking, because what else is there to do? Eddie seeing the chaos that’s happening grins and takes Y/ns hand. Sneaking off to the parking lot where his van is he is victorious!

           “What are you doing? Eddie we still have class- “

“What is class? I have rescued a fair maiden from the clutches of the monstrous dire Hawk!” Motioning to the front entrance to Hawkin’s high school. Giggling to himself he watches as Y/n rolls her eyes. Leaning against his van he lights up the half cigarette from this morning. “Besides- its gonna take them an hour before they get anything done with kids everywhere.”

           Shrugging she looks at Eddie, then back at the ground. “Honey I’ve been meaning to ask you something- uh why do you not want to go to Prom?”

The look on the boys’ face read more ‘you’ve got to be fucking with me’ than ‘isn’t it obvious’ but it’ll do.

“…...uh cuz it is stupid? Night under the stars? I can go to the lake if I wanna see stars. Not the fake paper ones they made. Why? You wanna go?”

           “Maybe- “

“Y/n- Maybe??? you’re fucking with me…you can’t go to prom. I won’t allow it. It’s a part of the establishment here to dictate what we do- what? You want to go late at night to school in some itchy dress that will probably look bad while your date is in a monkey suit?” From the small utterance of maybe Eddie’s heart sank. Feeling like some kind of betrayal of ethics that he stood for. Also, the idea of her going to Prom made his skin crawl, not the her going, but her going with someone not him. Just he didn’t have the balls to ask her and he knew it.

           “Eddie! I don’t need your permission to do shit. You aren’t my dad! What the fuck? I asked cuz I had an extra ticket and wanted to go with you. And I would look fucking amazing in a prom dress fuck you! But if you are so high and mighty on your horse then I will go with someone else oh great sire. Sorry for bothering his lordship! Ugh!” Y/n ranted stomping off towards the school.

…. fuck….

Eddie turned a sickly shade paler than his already pale complexion as Y/n stormed off. He didn’t mean to say that- he didn’t he genuinely didn’t. Getting hot under the collar and wanting to ask her out himself had him in a tail spin. He had a plan; he’d get some flowers or play a song he knew she liked then ask her. He just didn’t see that coming. He panicked.

How is he gonna fix this?

~~

Y/n would have none of it. School can fuck off. He said she wouldn’t look good in a prom dress! Whatever holier than thou bullshit bite him today she would have no part of it. Walking to her car she got in and zipped out of the parking lot. She was going to go home and would deal with her mom later. Y/n needed to be alone.

Getting to the L/n residence the lights were on. Mrs. L/n was busy in the kitchen making lunch for the two youngest. A set of twins that were not planned, but so thoroughly loved it took most of her mothers’ attention. Walking in with the front door slamming it shut.

“Y/n?? That you sweetheart? Shouldn’t you be at school?” Mrs. L/n asked concerned walking out of the kitchen seeing the last traces of the yellow and white sundress go up the stairs.

           “I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT!” Y/n shouted down the stairs and went to her room.

Y/n’s room was what you’d assume of a girl her age would like. Carpeted floor, a double bed with yellow floral bed sheets and stuffed animals up by the headboard. A poster of the animated Lord of the Rings, a flyer for Corroded Coffin’s latest show, figurines of ‘The last Unicorn’. Which was the first real outing both Y/n and Eddie took by themselves to the movies. He demanded to be the one to buy popcorn, though both of them knew she was the one who could afford it. Throwing herself on the bed she sobbed into her pillow. Her lilac prom dress hung on the back of the door.

Since none of the shops around Hawkins sold dresses in her size, she either had to make her own, or go to some big city nearby to buy one. So, a set of bed sheets was sacrificed to the cause. Recreating the Lady Amalthea look from ‘The Last Unicorn’ wasn’t the most in fashion, but it made Y/n feel pretty. Like a real medieval maiden waiting for her prince charming. As this dress stared back at her there was the undeniable itch to cut it up, stain it black, rip it apart. She spent so many nights after school, after Hellfire club, sewing.

“Y/n…sweetie?” Her mom cooed from the other side of the door.

           “What?!” Y/n groaned burying her face into a pillow.

“Is this about that Munson boy? I know you really like him- did something happen?” Her mom asked opening the door a crack. Seeing her daughter in tears she rushed in and scooped her up in her arms. “What happened? Did he hurt you? Did he say something? You know I can call the school- “

           “No…mom…h-he just” Sniffles “I asked him to prom and he blew up at me and...” Curling up into her mom’s shoulder letting tears run down her face.

“shhh shhh shhh, it’s alright…Mommy’s here. Whatever it is we will figure it out, okay?”

Only then did they hear a car pull into the drive way.

[kodzukyan]

better with you (until it kills me)

notes: it's always missing baji hours here </3 fluff, angst; alternative ending: always, always you

summary: four times you think you are in love with baji keisuke, and the one time you tell him.

wc: 3.7k

You're reasonably sure the only reason he chooses you to pair up with for the Japanese literature project is that you sit next to him, but it surprises you all the same. You don't think you have much of a presence in class, but you don't think you can say the same about your new partner, Baji Keisuke.

His slicked-back ponytail and thick frames make his presence seem like a poindexter, but there's something about his bruised knuckles and his fierce aura that makes him feel ferocious. You've noticed him hang out with the school delinquent on multiple occasions. You also think you've seen him laugh wildly as he beats up some of the local thugs who crowded around the said delinquent he's friends with.

He isn't who you expect him to be at first glance, and that intrigues you more than you like to admit. You're too nervous to openly ask, so you settle for stealing glances at him from the corner of your eyes.

So, when he really decides on you and submits the partner form, you don't know what to think.

In the time that you two are partners, you've discovered a couple of things about him. First, his handwriting and kanji absolutely suck. Despite that, he writes a letter addressed to someone named Kazutora every week without fail. As if that isn't endearing enough, it gets even more so when he pouts at the complex characters that he often gets wrong and the inevitable smile that breaks out whenever you show him how to write them correctly.

("Oh, thanks! I would probably fail my kanji tests without you and Chifuyu. Kazutora probably can't even understand what I'm saying," he laughs rambunctiously.)

Second, he's genuinely an unexpectedly good partner in terms of being punctual about meeting up. However, despite being on time, there is little progress on the project. Your work times often end up in discussions about random life topics rather than the project itself.

(“Do you like cats?” he asks out of the blue one day, head on the table and books already forgotten.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” you humor him because you’re also tired of researching Japanese literature.

“Wanna see my cats? They’re all strays,” he sits up suddenly, eyes lit and smile bright.

You nod, and he proceeds to take out his phone to show you pictures of his cats. You note his lock-screen is a picture of all his cats, and his camera roll is just full of his friends and mom, motorcycles, and the said cats. With shining eyes full of excitement, he tells you their names and their personalities in detail.

"Do you think cats recognize their names but choose to ignore us whenever we call them?" he resumes the conversation after he finishes showing you his gallery. He leans back as he balances his pencil on top of his pursed lips.

"Maybe. Depends on the cat? Maybe they just hate you?" you mimic his pose. You suppose thirty minutes of work is enough progress for the day.

"Ouch," he grimaces as if it shatters him directly in the heart.)

Third, sometimes he comes with his hair down and without his glances, with stains on his clothes that he claims are ketchup, despite it not smelling like that at all.

("Uh, hey, sorry I'm late today," he offers sheepishly as he runs a hand through his unbound hair.

"Oh, it's okay," you finally say after you take in his shaggy appearance. You try not to think about how handsome he is despite the bruises forming on his face. "Are you… okay?"

"All good! The ketchup bottle just randomly exploded," he laughs nervously and awkwardly. "Anyways!! The project!!"

You stare at him dubiously but nod anyway. "Okay, if you say so…")

Fourth, he has an extremely charming smile, especially when his fangs are in full display. To some, it may look fierce and menacing; to you, it looks cute, especially when his eyes are always brimming with life and his laugh is full of vitality.

More often than not you catch yourself staring at him because he's just so intriguing.

You try to ignore your racing heart when your stolen glances become shared ones, and he flashes you a grin softer than the smiles you've seen.

-----

“Uh, hi.” You say shyly as you enter through Baji’s window. It’s not frequently you seek out Baji at his own home, especially through the window he keeps open almost exclusively for stray cats to seek shelter.

“What the fuck?” Baji drops the stray cat he's cuddling as you give a slight wave, causing the cat to meow loudly at the sudden change in demeanor.

“Sorry to drop by unannounced. I, uh, just wanted some company.”

You feel vanishingly small as you awkwardly laugh and piece together some words that make sense. Home is supposed to be full of warmth, but your home is more of a house with people than a home with love. It’s a truth you’ve long accepted, but some days, it feels a little extra cold.

Therefore, you run, and somehow you end up here, in the comforts of Baji’s room.

Maybe you are currently a stray cat, feeling a little more lost than found. Maybe you find that he’s the sort of comfort that warms you a little when your heart feels heavy. Maybe you are just a little bit in like with him, and he is the first person you want to see whenever you’re feeling down.

The room is silent aside from the soft paps of cats moving around and the periodic meow. Then, he pats the spot next to him, and you make your way there. As soon as you sit down, he hands you a cat.

“Here, hold her. She’s nice,” he comments as he places the calico cat he dropped earlier in your lap, petting her as she adjusts to her new position on you.

She narrows her eyes and softly purrs in your lap as Baji pets her, and this makes you feel more in the moment than in your head like you’ve been. Your initial baffle turns into a smile as she purrs louder when you pet her, and just like that, you feel a little more found than lost.

You lean on his shoulder as you continue petting the calico cat in your lap. You keep your eyes on her as she climbs onto his lap and nuzzles him in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks and your drumming heart from your proximity.

“Thanks for giving me a home when I don’t want to be in my own,” you tell him softly, airly, almost as if you’re letting him in on a secret.

He stops playing with the cats for a moment and pauses. Feeling his intense stare, you peek through your lashes up at him. His broad grin and sharp canines are in full display, and his smile looks a little more boyish than wild. He tousles your hair as he laughs aloud boisterously before he props his head on top of yours.

“You’ll always have a home here.”

-----

It all started when a group of thugs looked at you inappropriately and made some comments that made you uncomfortable. You grip the ends of his sleeve just a little harder and press yourself behind him, trying to make yourself impossibly small. Baji, seeing your small form and downcast eyes, removes your hand from his sleeve and places it in his hand. Knowing Baji and him knowing you and your every mood, he does not stand for it. He simply flashes you a reassuring grin before he squeezes your hand and runs straight at them.

He throws the first punch, and you could just stand there in shock as he pummels through them and beats them up. He has cuts and bruises everywhere, and you’re certain he’s taken on a few nasty hits on his ribs. Though you’re equally confident that these thugs are absolutely 100% in worse shape than he is.

“Oh my god,” you sob frantically as Baji wobbles back to you, ferocious smile on his face softens as he sees you. He pats your head when he notes your teary eyes. You’re not even sure when you start crying, but the tears just don’t seem to stop. “Are you okay? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you -”

He clutches your tear-stained face in his hands, “Look at me.”

Your eyes meet his, but you can barely see him over your tears as you continue your incoherent rambling.

“Hey,” he tries once more, voice more frantic as he struggles to find words. He finally just squishes your cheeks and yells, “Do you think I care about anything else but you right now?”

Your eyes widen, and the tears forming fall freely onto his hands. Oh, oh, oh, you think to yourself as your beating heart rapidly thumps at an exponential speed, maybe he’s also falling. When you meet his steady gray eyes, the shocking realization that maybe you’re not the only one dumb and possibly in love stops your tears.

He sighs in relief when your tears gradually stop, and as if all the tiredness accumulated in his body hit him all at once, he falls down onto the ground.

You try to catch him as best as you can, and with the combined effort of mostly himself and partially you, he breaks his fall. He lays sprawled out on the ground. After you check for wounds and find none too serious, you sit with your knees tucked under you by where he lays and moves his head onto your lap.

All around you are the battered bodies of the thugs you’ve encountered, but all you can see at the moment is him and his gray eyes that disappear into crescent moons as he flashes you a grin. He’s too tired to move, but he raises a fist up into the air in victory anyway.

“I got you.”

-----

"Wanna go on a ride?" he texts you.

It’s almost midnight when he texts you, and it’s probably way past when you should stay up. But your heart flutters at the thought of adventure, at the thought of him, so you quickly respond, “Okay, but be quiet! Don't wake my parents up again, stinky!!!”

You can already imagine his sheepish smile when he sends you a "that was once!!! my bad" back.

After sending him a quick ":p", you silently put on some clothes more fitting to go out than your pajamas. The sound of his motorcycle announces his greater-than-life presence long before his text does. Grabbing two scrunchies, you sneak out your window.

He only greets you with a goofy smile and a wave, hair free-flowing in the wind. Under the moonlight, his gray eyes twinkle with vigor and youth. It knocks the air out of your lungs as you glance at him because he's beautiful, ethereal, and alive. He smiles smugly when he catches your stare, but he holds his hand out for you to take.

"Hi," you whisper under the twinkling stars as you put your hand in his.

"Hey," he whispers back as he curls his fingers around your hand before adjusting to interlace your fingers together.

The quietness and intimacy of this moment drown out the world - the sound of cars driving by, of cicadas flying, of the world standing still. The only thing keeping you from floating is his hand and the sound of your heartbeat.

"I got you a hair tie." You offer softly with an equally soft smile, eyes pointing to the scrunchies on your wrist.

"I got you a hoodie," he responds as he nods to his motorcycle. "Because I knew your dumb ass would, once again, forget to dress for the winds."

"I'm dressed decently enough. You, though… please tie your hair… It hurts like hell when it whips in my face," you laugh lightly.

He rolls his eyes. "That's also what you said last time before you ended up stealing my hoodie, and I ended up being cold!" he complains, but there's a certain fondness in his voice.

You only stick your tongue out childishly at him. You would rather bite your tongue than admit that you are always slightly underdressed for the occasion so he would keep giving you his hoodies.

He tugs your interlaced hand and pulls you closer, and as you stand so close to him, you think close isn't quite close enough. The two of you linger in that position for longer than what should be appropriate for friends, but you think you have been tiptoeing around that line for a while now. Your heart races, and you're sure your erratic heart is beating fast enough to generate heat to keep you warm against the cold winds.

He pulls away first, moving to grab his hoodie before he roughly puts it on you. He laughs when you complain about your ruffled hair, but as his hoodie and scent engulf you, you could only shyly smile. He takes a scrunchie despite complaining about how poofy it is. As he settles in his bike and you settle in behind him, arms tight around his waist, you think this is probably what holding the universe in your arms feels like.

He rives his bike loudly despite your warning, but you find that you could care less right now as he takes off. You are young and dumb, but the wind is running through your hair as the two of you are chasing the moon, and it makes you feel so alive. Neon lights and starlit skies blur together as he speeds through familiar roads, and the brisk winds drown out your loud laughter. It feels like you're feeling everything at once, but your head is so clear.

You think you can understand why he loves riding so much because the only thing that you can hear is your loud heartbeat, and the only thing that matters is you're living.

He finally stops at a local 24-hour diner. The moonlight shines through the window by your table. You are still feeling the wild wind in your hair, cold air on your face, and the warmth of Baji’s back on your arms. It's way past midnight now, and the yellow lights of the diner feel a little more homey than dingy. He’s munching on some fries, occasionally waving one in your face whenever he’s trying to make a point about something. As you watch the various expressions on his face, a smile makes its way to your face.

“Hey Keisuke,” you grab a fry and jab it at him in the middle of his sentence. He stops his mid-word as he stares at you, head tilting slightly and mouth still gaping. There is a particular word that you keep thinking of whenever you think of Baji, a feeling that lingers and fills your heart up. You know what it is. You think you know at least, and in moments like these when you’re just watching his goofy self munching on fries while boisterously laughing at something dumb, all you can think of is those four letters.

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper before you eat your fry. Best friend, you think, encompasses a lot of things and feelings as you stare at his childlike grin, heart fluttering and mind blanking because all you see is him. You hope he knows, hope he gets that best friend is a loose term because he is so much more.

When he meets your eyes and his gray eyes crinkle in mirth and laughter rolls off his lips, you think he does.

“I know,” he smugly nods before he drops another fry into his mouth. “I guess you’re pretty cool too.”

You stick your tongue out at him and feel a warmth in your heart that matches the pinks of his cheeks. Maybe it’s adrenaline still in your blood, maybe it’s the moment, but it makes you devious, brave even, as you lean over and chomp down on the fry he's holding.

He stares at you with his mouth wide open, looking absolutely flabbergasted and offended. “Hello? That was my last fry!”

“Sorry,” you giggle, not feeling all that sorry at all. You know he’s not truly that offended because he has that stupid grin on his face, because he’s always soft with you. A part of you does feel a little sorry when you see the small pout that arises on his face. “I’ll treat you to yakisoba later?”

He turns away from you, face still slightly sulky as he huffs silently.

“No? You don’t want yakisoba?” you ask. You still find it amusing that Baji Keisuke, the first division captain of the Toman Gang who would punch someone on the streets for no reason other than just because he feels like it, is pouting because you stole his last fry. If anyone from any rival gangs sees Baji Keisuke now, they probably wouldn’t believe this is the same person.

“Fine,” he huffs softly, “But don’t think one yakisoba is enough.”

“Then,” you begin, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you work up the courage, “What about this?”

He turns to you in confusion, and before your courage runs out on you, you crash your lips onto his before you pull away.

“Repayment,” you mutter meekly, eyes avoiding his because you’re sure he can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from where he’s sitting.

“Hey,” he tugs on your hand under the table. When you finally look at him, he continues, “Just one isn’t enough.”

He kisses you again.

-----

Home is supposed to be the place you come from, but you think it's more like a place you find, pieced together from scattered bits of feelings, emotions, people along the way. Somewhere along the lines, home becomes less of a place and more of a person. Your home becomes the boy with the sharp canines and long hair that gets tangled by the stray cats he keeps, the "I love you" declared loudly with kisses and the longing looks in between, the comfortable warmth of his body next to yours as you chase sunsets and live in your own infinity. Your home is Baji Keisuke and the constant image of him in your mind and the infinite pieces of him in your heart.

Infinity, though, is awfully short, you think, as you see him lay surrounded by bouquets, eyes closed in eternal slumber. He's always looked good in white, but when his tan complexion is nearly as pale as the white roses surrounding him, you think white is an awful color on him. His eyes always shine with possibilities and promises, and while you've always joked that his sleeping face is cute because he always looks so innocent, adorable even, all you want now is to see him awake.

His heroism and love for his friends are always something that you love about him, but in turn, it feels so incredibly cruel to you now. For as short as he has been in your life, he becomes pieces embedded so deeply in it that it makes you whole. You cannot imagine a world where there is no Baij, where he isn’t there to punch a hooligan on the streets or feed stray cats at night or hold you when your world is crashing. You cannot imagine a life where he isn’t here to shine a bright light in your life without his laughter and goofy personality. Suddenly the world blurs around you, and you can't breathe as droplets of water hit your clenched hands on your lap.

You hold his hands. Cold, cold, cold, when they used to be warm enough to light a fire in you. There are so many things you want to tell him, say to him, but the speech you prepare in your head drowns in silence as your voice gives out on you. All the words in your head just come out as broken sobs. You feel the sympathetic and equally broken glance of his mom as she embraces you, but all you can think about is that he won’t open his eyes.

Baji Keisuke has always been bigger than life, you think, because he becomes a part of everything in your life. There are traces of him everywhere - him with his cats on your lock-screen, the random memes he sends you at night, the little notes he leaves you written in his ugly penmanship with love. When you think of these things, you feel like your heart is breaking all over again.

People tell you to be strong, and while you want to retort because how can you when he’s gone?, you find that you cannot say a word without crying. You’re tired of crying too because your eyes are already so, so raw, but it seems like all you can do is cry. When you think you've finally run out of tears and your tears finally stop, a new batch takes over even at the slightest things that remind you of him. You feel so pathetic because you can't do anything without water leaking from your eyes, and you hate yourself for being so weak.

You tune out the somber tone of his friends and the broken tone of his mom because you don't want to accept a reality where he isn't here. But luck is never on your side because he never opens his eyes again, and you never get to tell him how much you love him. All you get are flashbacks and memories of him and emptiness in your heart and soul. You tell yourself you have to be strong and smile and live for the both of you, but you can't. Not when he isn't here, not when he isn't with you anymore. Every time you think about that fact, your heart breaks again.

"Hey, stupid," your broken sobs ring loudly in the deafening silence, "I love you."

The words you’ve wanted to tell him for so long are finally in the open, but there is no answer.

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 670: The day of the festival

Pag 1

3: Now we'll have the Big Lottery, so those who have a neighborhood association ticket-

Ahh, they're starting!

Every year, it's always wonderful!

4: -please gather in front of the stage

I'm telling you we can definitely get juice

Let's go!

5: What are you going to win, Papa?

Maybe a small TV.... or a-

Ahh, I'd love a*

Let's play “animals forest”

(*NdT.: I literally have no idea what the word they're using means, sorry lmao thankfully, they're just random people it's not important lmao)

Pag 2

1: “Animal forest”....

It's.....

I want cotton candy!

No way, you already ate earlier

But!

Pag 3

1: A game popular among the girls in my class.... I think

2: Huh.... why am I thinking about stuff that doesn't matter

I wanna play!

Alright

3: Come on, don't just watch TV

There's the festival at the temple in the park, do you want to go?

We even have the neighbors associacion tickets

4: Why don't you give them to Hayato-kun?

6: Hayato is has exams, so that's not possible

You have free time, so go....

Sometimes it's not possible even for me, you know

Pag 4

1: Since I won the eight race I participated in, I haven't won at all

2: I know that in the end it's a matter of how much I practice

But

I can't win a race just with that

3: Everyone around me talks about it like it's easy...

4: Did you win again?

In that race you participated in?

A complete victory?

5: 12th place... ah... well.... that's the ranking

Aw man.... you should have your brother teach you

His brother is amazing, he won the other day....

6: Always run with your brother!

7: Yeah

Pag 5

1: Sometimes? I guess?

We don't run together anymore

2: My big brother races too, and when I told him I'm in the same class as Shinkai Hayato's little brother he was so surprised!

That's cool!

He said there's no one in Kanagawa who doesn't know him

3: Must be nice having a brother like that, Yuuto!

I guess?

4: There it is! Yuuto's “composure”!

Whatever happens, you always have a composed face!

The girls were talking so excitedly about it, the other day!

Seriously!?

5: I have nothing like that

haha

6: I have nothing like “composure”

7: People around me talk so easily about winning and winning

But it's not easy

Pag 6

1: But I have to win

In order to not be “Hayato's little brother”

2: But to be “Yuuto”

3: I'm practicing desperately

I have no composure

4: I can't stay composed, I'm impatient because I can't win

Pag 7

1: How did today's race go?

How did you rank?

3: Ahh... 16th   …... I'm pretty sure your brother won that race

Go take a bath

5: Don't feel down, you look discouraged

6: It's okay, you can do it

You're strong

Pag 8

1: Shut up!!

2: Dammit!! You win, that's why you can say that

3: I'm strong!? Then I ask you, why can't I win even if I'm strong!?

4: You know how I feel, you're the cause of it, it's everything because you're my brother!!

Even if I work so desperatley, they don't even call me by name!! And everyone around me is always comparing!!

5: Me to you!!

Pag 9

1: After I won that race, it got even more

Become like Hayato soon, become Hayato, become Hayato!!

2: “When will you win again?” Don't ask such absurd things!!

3: I can't.....

4: Why... people around me mark me

Why can't I win, dammit

5: Wha-

6: Ah, without noticing... I'm back here....

7: Look, Onii-cha, look at this! Isn't it cute?

Yeah yeah

8: Hahaha

10: It's so cute

It suits me?

It really does!

Pag 10

1: That's right....

2: If I

Pag 11

1: Had been a “little sister”.....

7: Maybe  

Pag 12

2: I wouldn't be suffering like this

3: I'm sure no one would tell me anything....

Pag 13

1: Hahaha

It's there!

Still?

2: Incredible

Somehow, I put a mask on and everyone around me is so noisy, but...

Pag 14

1: I feel so incredibly calm

3: Eh, why!?

No

Come on... how do I put it... I want to change my mood...

4: Most of your friends are going there, too, you'll go with them...

But.... it's a good opportunity to choose my own middle school

No

5: Anyway, I said no

The same as Hayato-kun

You will go to the number one middle school, Hadano!!

Pag 15

1: In the end I entered the number one middle school, Hadano Middle School

3: It's huge, damn

My parents said that it was because it was close to home, and it would be a waste of my brother's uniform and gym suit.... that was their reason

5: Oi, first year Shinkai running on the emergency stairs skipping steps!!

Ah, damn, sorry, professor

Pag 16

1: Your brother also used to run those stairs skipping steps

3: It seems that I had a lot of teacher in my first year, who were in charge of the third years the previous year

They smiled and compared me to my brother

4:You're Shinkai's brother, huh?

Ohh... you look a lot like him! Work hard in math

Huh!? … I mean, is that so?

5: Oh... if you ride bicycles, then it would be nice if you joined club activities.... Shinkai-kun

6: I'm sad to say this year the number of members is low

It would increase if you joined

Well....

7: I really don't need this... that's him

There's a person I like, so I can't join the club

Pag 17

1: I practiced alone

At the pass in my town, and I was as good as the guys there

Woah, so fast!

2: But still, I didn't have any result in races

3: Sometimes I got on the podium

At the end of second year

4: “At your age Hayato had already-” were the words I hated the most back then

Pag 18

1: I'm happy you got on the podium

It wasn't first place

The results of your practice are showing

Not so much though?

2: If we're done talking, close the door

Hayato-kun didn't read the air and for some reason often came talking to me

4: We're already third years

You're a third year, and that means I'm a third year too

5: That's obvious

Come on, leave

6: Many things happened to me, too

But

Pag 19

1: I'm participating in the Inter High next year

3: Ah? Inter High?

What was that announcement? I don't care

4: During summer of the following year, my brother participated in the Inter High

5: My mother was so happy that she showed me videos, it was difficult for me to ignore her

Loo, he's attacking here, look!

Yeah yeah

Let's go see him tomorrow

I can't

Pag 20

1: But, that's right, participating in this Inter High, if you don't win it means you're not the strongest

2: For me to be myself

I have to win this race

3: Inter High.... huh

4: While I watched my brother who of course played an active role in the race, I made the decision of goin to Hakone Academy

5: And then, the next year

Pag 21

1: I got the bib number 16

2: And I ran in the Inter High

Pag 22

2: Don't be mislead by Hayato-kun's words....

Pretending to encourage you is just a diversion

Just that!!

3: There are around 500m until the finish line....

4: It's coming

5: He'll soon make his fourth attack!!

[porcelain-yume]

GiANT KiLLiNG - THE MADNA (English Lyrics Translation 英訳)

Lyrics: Ryota; Music: THE MADNA

Always the peak right now

Live as you like

I’ve got a hell of a lot of work to do

So much I wanna escape

It’s such a pain

But if I don’t get to it

Then my life just ain’t worth it

Gotta sort myself out

Love and hate are two sides of the same coin

I love it so much that I hate it

See that moonlight glowing, shining on the future

Even that guy who became a star is up there applauding

Check 1-2

Let out all of that frustration from your body surging up inside

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

Live your life at 0 or 100

If you just do it when it counts

No problem

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

Cuz in the end you’ll be ashes one day

Live like there’s no tomorrow

And just enjoy the moment

Live as you like

The world’s an unreasonable place

Full of contradictions

It’s hard to wake, hard to survive

I’ve known it for some time

Life’s boring if it’s always too easy

Anything & everything must be totally defeated

With a single blade in hand

We came to rise up and overthrow, no?

With a clean sweep, slaughter the lot

It don’t matter who’s above or below

Everything in sight

Kick anything & everything straight to the curb

Everybody banzai

We’re here to rise up and overthrow

Check 1-2

Gouge the times, get up now

Now etch it right into your memory

If we stand here, we stand unrivalled

Time to wage war

Turn this place upside down

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

If you don’t like it then take it head on

Direct hit - Rider Kick!

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

It’s do or die SURViVOR

So show me what ya got with this GiANT KiLLiNG

Thrilling invigorating action

Unrealistic non-fiction

Rising and falling tension

Dawning emotion

Satisfaction

Damn right

All my life I’ve never once been fully satisfied

The moment I'm satisfied

My mission on this earth is complete. (salute)

So get psyched, make some noise

Hand in hand

United together we share the same destiny

Let’s do this, knock ‘em dead

Break straight past the limits to the ultimate high yeah!!

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

Live your life at 0 or 100

If you just do it when it counts

No problem

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

Cuz in the end you’ll be ashes one day

Live like there’s no tomorrow

And enjoy the moment

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

If you don’t like it then take it head on

Direct hit - Rider Kick!

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

It’s do or die SURViVOR

So show me what ya got with this GiANT KiLLiNG

Always the peak right now

Notes:

The MADNA’s first summer song & youth anthem. According to various interviews, they wanted to make a song that would fire the crowd up and get fans excited at shows just like a summer festival.

Ryota got the inspiration to write the lyrics for this song by watching his young puppy Guu interact with other dogs much bigger than him. He was barking back at them mercilessly regardless of his tiny size. It reminded him of himself and the band and how they must face the upcoming challenges head on. At the time, they were going head to head with a lot of different bands and he felt like he had to be in a fighting stance at all times in this “battle of the bands”.

存在価値(そんざいかち): value to society, value of one’s existence. So he’s saying that if he doesn't do what he needs to get done then he will lose the value of his very existence.

成敗(せいばい): 侍の言葉 A term used by the samurai which means things like to punish, to defeat, to kill, punishment etc.

刀(かたな): a katana is a traditional Japanese single-edged sword. They were used by samurai in feudal Japan and worn with the edge facing upward.

下克上 (げこくじょう): A term used to refer to juniors dominating or overthrowing their seniors / inferiors overthrowing their superiors/ the lower class rising up against the upper class. Like a giant-killing, it’s an inversion of social order. THE MADNA themselves are starting from the very bottom.

万歳(ばんざい): “banzai” a Japanese cheer or battle cry used to express enthusiasm or celebrate victory and triumph. It originated from the old phrase (may you live for) ten thousand years. These days it’s used as a celebratory cheer eg. “Huzzah!” “Hurray!” “Yay!!” “YASSSS!”.

In this sense 大衆 (たいしゅう) refers to the public or common people (as opposed to the upper class or in this case those above who they are overthrowing). So paired together with banzai, it suggests a celebration of the people at the bottom. In this case we could most likely infer that’s the band themselves. So it’s a celebratory cheer for being who they are.. Hell yeah we got this! Let’s fucking go!! Honestly speaking I wasn't sure the best way to translate this line and I just like saying the word BANZAI so I left it in as it is. If I can come up with a better idea later I'll come back and change it but for now, banzai it is. Open to creative input!

ライダーキック Rider kick: A “Rider kick” is the signature finishing move from the popular Japanese series Kamen Rider. According to a fan page, although it comes in various forms, “it traditionally consisted of a flying side kick and was used against the monster after it had been weakened from fighting with the Rider.” Ryota does the kick on stage during the performance. Ideally the fans do the kick together with him too if space permits.

殺るか殺られるか/やるかやられるか: This phrase means it’s kill or be killed, do or die, dog-eat-dog, beat or get beaten etc. 殺る is used colloquially and means to kill or “do someone in”.

Giant-killing: A term used to describe when the underdog beats the competition. Often used in sports to describe a player or team that defeats a much stonger or well-known opponent unexpectedly. This success is sometimes referred to as a giant-killing. As the win is highly unanticipated, it can be an exhilarating turn of events in a match and can also lead to an uproar or huge upset.

テンション Tension: it’s probably worth pointing out that the word tension has the opposite meaning in Japanese than what it does in English. In English we would usually use it to describe negative emotional tension, anxiety or some kind of mental strain - so the lower the better! In Japanese it’s often used to mean being in high spirits, having a lot of energy or being really excited and in a good mood. So in Japanese having “high” tension is a good thing, whereas having “low” tension means you’re feeling quite down, drained and unenthusiastic.

(敬礼)けいれい solute: It’s in brackets as he doesn’t actually sing this but rather does the action itself. During the live show the fans solute to the members at this point.

運命共同体(うんめいきょうどうたい): a phrase meaning “to be in the same boat”, “share a common destiny/fate” or “to feel or have a strong bond or connection together”.

絶頂(ぜっちょう)極上(ごくじょう): This is an interesting choice of word combination. Zecchou refers to the peak, height or climax of something. It can also be used in combination with other words to mean being on cloud nine or feeling on top of the world. This is mostly likely where “the peak” from the line “always the peak right now” derives from. Gokujou is used to describe something that is first-rate, the finest quality, supreme, prime, divine or the best.

Japanese, Romaji & Spotify Track:

Always the peak right now

live as you like

やらなくちゃいけない事

山積みで逃げ出したい かったりぃ

けど、やらなくちゃ存在価値も無くなり

己自身を断捨離

好きと嫌いは表裏一体

憎らしいほど愛おしい

月の光は未来照らし

星になったアイツも拍手喝采

live as you like

Yaranakuchaikenai koto

Yamazumi de nigedashitai kattarii

Kedo yaranakucha sonzaikachi mo nakunari

Onorejishin wo danshari

Suki to kirai wa hyouriittai

Nikurashii hodo itooshii

Tsuki no hikari wa mirai terashi

Hoshi ni natta aitsu mo hakushukassai

check 1-2

身体中に渦巻いたフラストレーション吐きだせ

Karadajuu ni uzumaita furasutoreshon (frustration) hakidase

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

0か100で生きてこうぜ

やるときやれば No problem

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

どーせ、いつかは灰になるぜ

死ぬ気でイマを楽しんでやれ

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

Zero ka hyakku de ikitekouze

Yaru toki yareba No problem

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

Douse itsuka wa hai ni naruze

Shinukide ima wo tanoshindeyare

live as you like

世の中っていうのは理不尽で

矛盾だらけだからwake 生きづらい

とっくにもう、 分かってる

つまらねぇんだ　楽な事ばかりじゃ

アレもコレもとか総て成敗

刀一本握り締めて

下克上だろ? ブッた斬って

上も下も関係ねぇ

一切合切 アレもコレもとか蹴散らせ

大衆万歳 下克上だろ

live as you like

Yononakatteiu no wa rifujin de

Mujun darake dakara wake ikizurai

Tokku ni mou wakatteru

Tsumaraneenda raku na koto bakari ja

Are mo kore mo toka subete seibai

Katana ippon nigirishimete

Gekokujou daro? Buttakitte

Ue mo shita mo kankei nee

Issaigassai are mo kore mo toka kechirase

Taishuu banzai gekokujou daro

check 1-2

時代をエグれ get up now

さあ、記憶に刻み込め

此処に立ったら独壇場だ

めちゃくちゃにしてやれ

Jidai wo egure get up now

Saa kioku ni kizamikome

Koko ni tattara dokudanjou da

Mechakucha ni shiteyare

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

気に入らねぇーなら正面切って

一発噛ませ　ライダーキック

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

殺るか殺られるかの SURViVOR

見せつけてやれ GiANT KiLLiNGで

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

Ki ni iranee nara shoumenkitte

Ippatsukamase Rider kikku (kick)

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

Yaru ka yarareru ka no SURViVOR

Misetsuketeyare GiANT KiLLiNG de

痛快爽快アクション

非現実的ノンフィクション

浮き沈みテンション

明け方エモーション

サティスファクション

Tsuukai soukai action

Higenjitsuteki nonfiction

Ukishizumi tension

Akegata emotion

Satisfaction

そう、生まれて此の方ずっと

心満たされてねぇ

満たされちまったその瞬間

この地球での任務完了。 (敬礼)

沸いてけ　騒いでけ

手と手繋いで我ら運命共同体

ヤッたれ　かましたれ

絶頂極上の向こう側へ限界突破 yeah!!

Sou umarete konokata zutto

Kokoro mitasaretenee

Mitasarechimatta sono shunkan

Kono chikyuu de no ninmu kanryou

Waiteke sawaideke

Te to te tsunaide warera unmeikyoudoutai

Yattare kamashitare

Zecchou gokujou no mukougawa e genkai toppa yeah!!

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

0か100で生きて行こうぜ

やるときやれば No problem

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

どーせ、いつかは灰になるぜ

死ぬ気でイマを楽しんでやれ

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

気に入らねぇーなら正面切って

一発噛ませ ライダーキック

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

殺るか殺られるかの SURViVOR

見せつけてやれ GiANT KiLLiNGで

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

Zero ka hyakku de ikitekouze

Yaru toki yareba No problem

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

Douse itsuka wa hai ni naruze

Shinukide ima wo tanoshinde

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

Ki ni iranee nara shoumenkitte

Ippatsukamase Rider kikku (kick)

Crazy yeah!! Funny yeah!!

Yaru ka yarareru ka no SURViVOR

Misetsuketeyare GiANT KiLLiNG de

Always the peak right now

[siflshonen]

hi! i loved your bakugou meta (both the re-do and original!) and i wanted to ask you a question that’s been racking my brain- about how others perceive bakugou and how he feels about that. it’s an interesting concept since i’ve always felt that unlike todoroki and deku, bakugou’s goal doesn’t involve a mutual connection with people (like saving or reassuring like the two i mentioned above). it’s about how he feels about himself and strives to achieve that by his standards and how he sees fit. however, how do you think he feels about the impact he has on other people? there’s denki backing him up and his motives during the provisional license exam and saving them (also aizawa’s little speech about him being a driving force for the class), there’s kiri’s unbreakable, there’s him exciting the class during the cultural fest and reaffirming why they’re here and absolving their guilt for what’s happened, etc. the most notable one being of deku and his whole “image of victory” thing during their second fight (still waiting on something for that). but i wish we got more insight to how he feels about this directly. there have been the characters in story talking about his development (mostly sato as of late) and i wonder if that’ll segway into something like him reacting to it? i’m so curious!

Ah, wow, this IS a tough question. I think it kinda depends. I'm gonna take apart your ask a little bit to try and give a thorough answer based on where I am coming from on this. If it comes off as pedantic, I apologize. I just wanna make sure I answer this clearly.

Short answer: I think he is initially afraid when he is perceived as anything other than his personas, but later learns to become comfortable with being perceived underneath them. In fact, I think he is deeply, deeply touched by it. He seems to show a lot of (belated, because he's a shit about everything initially) loyalty and sentimentality towards those who do perceive him for what he actually is and recognize the positive in it. He craves the validation from the people that matter to him even if he doesn't say it directly. We do see his tells about it, though not for every instance.

Long answer under the cut.

"...it’s an interesting concept since i’ve always felt that unlike todoroki and deku, bakugou’s goal doesn’t involve a mutual connection with people (like saving or reassuring like the two i mentioned above)."

I can't say I totally agree that his goal (being the number one Hero) has nothing to do with mutual connections regarding saving or reassuring others, anon. However, I do think that it is more apt to say that he NEEDS the mutual connection regarding trust and belonging in an even broader sense than the two examples you've listed. Izuku and Shoto are lonely misfit boys with pasts marked by some form of isolation. Both center around saving and reassuring others and how those things relate. Yes. But so is Bakugo (his only "friends" were two sort of flunkies who made it clear they only liked him for his strength and talent and he rejected the one potential friend he had in Deku. Self-imposed or not, his social situation is not dissimilar to theirs in concept).

Bakugo needs others to feel assured that he's going to win, trust that his winning is a good thing, and trust that he wants to win because it is going to save everyone. While Bakugo doesn't doubt that he can do incredible things (for example, surpass All Might in a fight or otherwise), people aren't going to support him in continuing that path unless he can convince them it's a positive thing (or, yanno, in their interest.) While Izuku and Shoto openly want these mutual connections in regards to saving, winning, and also stuff like friendship, Bakugo initially doesn't think he wants them but comes to realize that he desperately NEEDS them.

That Bakugo takes Kirishima's hand in the rescue isn't just significant because he and Kirishima have an equal relationship. It is also significant because Bakugo accepted it because he knew he NEEDED to do so. It's not unlike him accepting help from Izuku in their fight against All Might because he NEEDED to do so.

No matter how much Bakugo might wish to be an island unto himself (heh heh heh...), the reality is that he cannot be. He NEEDS his connections with others. This is the whole reason he gets lumped in with Todoroki for the remedial course for the provisional license.

In order to become the number one Hero and surpass All Might (who totally shafted most interpersonal connections and, in practice, consistently failed to really reach out to Bakugo himself on at least two occasions depending on your point of view), Bakugo NEEDS those connections. Over the course of the story, he begins to understand that interpersonal connections are a win condition of "number one Hero", even by his own (somewhat changing) definition.

But as for how this ties into Bakugo's personal goal and personal desires outside of "things he needs to do to become the number one Hero that society doesn't reject utterly and prevent him from doing so"? Or, as you put it:

"It’s about how he feels about himself and strives to achieve that by his standards and how he sees fit."

I do agree that Bakugo's primary motivation is intrinsic. Bakugo doesn't just want to become the number one Hero by conventional standards. He wants to be number one by his standards! But that doesn't mean there aren't things he wants outside of that, or that his personal vision of number one Hero doesn't include interpersonal relationships and validation as the series progresses.

"however, how do you think he feels about the impact he has on other people?"

I think the significance of Bakugo refusing (and then angsting about refusing, in the case of Izuku) hands outstretched to him also show how, deep inside, he craves mutual connections with people who see him as he is. While his connection with Izuku is highly specific rather than the more abstract idea of "my personal goal is to foster mutual connections with people!", I think by coming to accept that a connection with Izuku is something he wants, Bakugo also comes to see that he wants and values mutual connections with other people besides just Izuku.

His involvement in the Todoroki plot, even through his udon comment, also suggests the same.

As for the examples you listed:

"there’s denki backing him up and his motives during the provisional license exam and saving them (also aizawa’s little speech about him being a driving force for the class), there’s kiri’s unbreakable, there’s him exciting the class during the cultural fest and reaffirming why they’re here and absolving their guilt for what’s happened, etc. the most notable one being of deku and his whole “image of victory” thing during their second fight (still waiting on something for that). but i wish we got more insight to how he feels about this directly."

He wasn't around to respond to (he could hear Kaminari's backup during the exam, but we sure weren't in a position to see his reaction!) most of this or know about it, but I think if he could see them and directly know how these things came from him, he'd be deeply flattered but not know how to take it. He'd probably scratch the back of his head and try to avoid or play down the praise much like he did with All Might and his classmates during the Joint Training arc. Or do that obviously overwhelmed thing he does when All Might pats him and Shoto on the head after they got their licenses.

Or he'd open his mouth and start to bitch on reflex because he doesn't know how to take it, but the words might not come out. Like when Sero calls him a delinquent with stray cats. Look at that face.

Or Endeavor compliments him when he's trying to be an asshole and draw public attention away from their personal family drama.

Authentic praise for authentic efforts and qualities is a lot for a growing bomb who only got insults and shallow praise in the past to handle, you know?

The one of interest is Izuku's honne regarding Bakugo, I agree. Honestly, the one I'm most interested in seeing him react to because it means so much more coming from his osana najimi (who almost never talks about his true feelings with anyone, but especially not Bakugo). I'm not sure what Bakugo might do in response to that, but I think the internal impact will be larger than the external. Like when Izuku apologized to the class (which includes Bakugo, though Izuku still isn't getting to the heart of the matter because he can't see it.)

As for Sato and the others commenting on how they still expect Bakugo to change... Here's my opinion: lovingly, because I do authentically like Sato and adore Tokoyami in particular, they can all get fucked :) If they can't see what's in front of them for what it is, they weren't meant to.

Thanks for the ask!

[touyasdoll]

Ooooooo

Thirsts still open lovely?

Let’s *love triangle* it uppppppppp

Shinso x reader x midoriya 💕

Both actively know you’re dating the other, they both compete to have you choose.

Then plot twist, you end up with Bakugo 😂💕

It’s a good twist IMO 😂😂

I hope your day has been lovely 💕

Oooh, you know I can't say no to a good love triangle. But also, this is hilarious & I absolutely adore this 😂💕 of course Bakugou would swoop in & nab you while those two had a pissing match. I hope your day has been lovely too! Ty, love 🤍

The Competition

Pairing: Shinsou x reader, Izuku x reader, Bakugou x reader

Genre: fluff

Notes: college au

“So, have you given any more thought to us making things official?” Izuku smiled politely, sitting down beside you as you tried to enjoy your lunch.

“Midoriya,” you sigh, “I don’t want to have this conversation right now, please.”

“Ooh, that’s rough. Not even using your first name anymore?” Shinsou strolled up, hands in his pockets as he smirked at Izuku before sitting down on the other side of you.

You rolled your eyes, pointedly turning to him and exaggerating the pronunciation of his own last name, “Shinsou, I don’t want to have this conversation with you either.”

“Oh, come on,” Midoriya leaned closer, resting his arm on the table as he turned sideways in his seat to face you. “You’ve been out with both of us a few times now. You’ve got to have a preference. Just tell us who you wanna keep seeing and then it’ll be over with.”

“I hate to agree with the competition, but he’s right,” Shinsou mirrored his actions, turning to face you himself. “Just tell him that it’s over between you two and then you and I can go grab dinner tonight to celebrate.”

“Oh my goodness,” you stood, quickly wrapping up your food and snatching it off the table. “I can’t do this right now. I’m literally too hangry for this.”

“Oh c’mon, doll.” Midoriya stood, following you as you picked up the rest of your belongings and headed for the door of the cafeteria.

“Yeah, wait up. Let’s talk about this,” Shinsou wasn’t far behind the pair of you.

You spun on your heel once you were outside, “Neither of you.” You raised your eyebrows, a sarcastic grin on your lips as you looked between them. “Okay? I’ve told you both more than enough times. I’ve been having fun, but I told you that when I’m ready to commit to something more serious, that I’ll have that discussion with each of you, privately. I don’t have an answer for you right now. You’re both great guys, okay? Just, maybe give me some space? I’ll think about it, I swear.”

“Did I hear you right, Princess?” Bakugou’s gruff voice cut through the noise surrounding you as he strolled up, looking at you quizzically. “Did you just say that you’re dating not just one, but both of these extras?”

“You jealous?” Shinsou smirked and Bakugou whipped his head toward him with a glare.

“As if, Eyebags.” He turned back to you, “I think I have a solution to your problem though. These idiots are at each other’s throats all the time in class anyway, why not just make ‘em actually compete? They love that shit.”

“Kacchan, don’t be ridiculous, Y/n wouldn’t—,” Midoriya started, but was interrupted when you crooked your head, obviously invested in Bakugou’s proposition.

“What did you have in mind?” You stepped closer to Bakugou and he grinned victoriously, taking a moment to smirk at Midoriya before he elaborated.

“Three events. Your choosing. Could be anything you want, so get creative. Best two out of three wins. Your decision is made for you and then you’ll only have one of these assholes harassing you all the time. It’s a win/win.”

“I’ll do it,” Hitoshi shrugged, staring plainly at you.

“Me too,” Izuku was quick to follow suit.

Bakugou crossed his arms and shrugged, “See? They’re on board. You just gotta come up with the games they’ll be playing.”

“Okay, but that’s waiting until I at least get some food in me, because if you don’t let me have just like an hour without one of you—,” you paused, a lightbulb going off in your brain. “No, never mind. First part of the competition starts now. Leave me alone. First one to contact me loses.”

Both the green and the purple-haired boy looked at you in mild surprise, then at one another, exchanging determined glances before heading off in opposite directions of one another.

“Damn, that was impressive,” the blonde chuckled, taking another step closer to you with the most charming smile dancing across his features. “Do you need any help brainstorming the other two competitions? I could give you a hand. Maybe over lunch? My treat.”

“Please, I’m starving,” you laughed, walking beside him. “And I don’t have a clue what else to have them do. I don’t think I have much time to decide either, because Midoriya is gonna cave in like 2 hours, tops.”

“Damn nerd,” he scoffed, casually draping an arm around you, “Don’t worry, Princess. I’ve got a couple ideas.”

///

“Thanks again for lunch,” you smiled up at Bakugou as you walked outside the restaurant. “I actually had a really good time. I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t realize you were one for conversation,” you laugh as you approach his car.

“The hell’s that s’posed to mean?” He narrowed his eyes, his voice harsh as usual, but his eyes playful as he opened the car door for you.

“Just means that I was pleasantly surprised,” you climb inside, throwing him an equally playful wink.

“Oi, shut up,” he rolled his eyes, “We got a competition to host, woman.”

He closed the door with a smirk, coming around and climbing into the driver’s seat as your phone chimed.

“See? Like clockwork. It’s barely been an hour,” you showed him your phone screen.

Izuku: Any chance that Shinsou has given up yet?

“Moron,” he scoffed, “Onto the next one then.”

You nodded, texting both Shinsou and Izuku instructions for the next part of the competition.

“Shouldn’t take them long, right?” Bakugou rested one hand on the wheel, letting his other arm rest between the two of you. “Wanna grab some coffee while we wait?”

“Sure, but it’s on me.”

“That’s cute that you think so, Princess,” he glanced towards you as he braced his right hand on the back of your seat, looking over his shoulder as he backed up out of the parking space.

You could never quite put your finger on why that particularly mundane action seemed so hot, even when average-looking guys did it. But seeing Bakugou do it?

Life-changing, in a word. His swollen bicep flexed so that you could see each and every vein running through it, the way that he turned his head allowing you to see the glorious veins in his neck and the strong razor sharp cut of his jawline. All while he exuded an air of confidence that, truthfully, never really seemed to leave him, but which was bolstered by him completing the simple action.

“But I’ve got a policy against letting pretty girls pay,” he threw you a crooked grin, “At least on the first date.”

///

“Okay,” Shinsou huffed as he set down a pink, cardboard box in front of you at the table in the courtyard where you and Bakugou were seated. “I got it.”

“No!” Midoriya was equally out of breath as he placed an identical box down beside Shinsou’s. “I got it. He got the wrong one.”

“What? No,” Shinsou argued, “Chocolate cake, that’s her favorite. Right?” He turned to you for confirmation.

Izuku scoffed before you could respond, “Cheesecake is her favorite.” He turned to you expectantly. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

You winced in Shinsou’s direction, “He is right, sorry.”

“Ugh,” Shinsou groaned as Izuku pumped his fist, “Okay, well it’s best two out of three. What’s the last thing we gotta do?”

“Dinner reservations,” you explained. “The first one to secure a table for tonight at that swanky place that just opened up is the winner.”

“It’s 4 PM on a Friday,” Shinsou balked, but Midoriya was already pulling out his phone, so he followed suit, turning his attention toward finding a phone number to call as they both walked out of earshot.

“Do you really think they’ll be able to do this one?” You leaned closer to Bakugou, letting your shoulder touch his.

“I don’t know,” he glanced down at where your bodies met, leaning in to the contact. “But they’re damn sure gonna try. Stubborn idiots.”

About 20 or so minutes later, Shinsou rushed over, smiling triumphantly, “All right, it took a favor from Aizawa, but I got a table for tonight at 7:30.”

“Well, thanks to All Might, I got a table reserved for 7,” Izuku smirked as he strolled up behind Shinsou, who muttered something under his breath as he looked up and away.

“Oh, I, uh,” your eyes bounced between them, “Honestly didn’t expect either of you to actually get a table.”

“Well, we did, and technically, I got an earlier reservation, so does that mean that I win?” Izuku rested his hands on the table, leaning forward.

“But I scheduled my reservation first, so doesn’t that mean that I win?” Shinsou stepped closer, crossing his arms.

“Oi, neither of you won, idiots,” Bakugou sneered. “But you did an excellent job planning our date tonight.”

“What?” Midoriya looked dumbfounded, his eyes darting between you and Bakugou. “Kacchan?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, what?” Shinsou glared directly into Bakugou’s ruby eyes.

“I know your damn ears work,” he smirked, “Well, I would have thought so, but neither of you seemed to hear this lovely lady when she told you both to piss off and leave her alone for a damn minute. You think the best way to romance a woman is to hound her until she caves and settles for you?”

“Ka—,” Izuku started to protest, but Shinsou placed a hand on his shoulder, silencing him as he looked at you.

“Were we really that annoying?” His tone was genuine. He and Izuku both patiently waited for your response.

“I mean,” you shrugged, “A little, yeah. I wouldn’t put it quite so harshly, but I didn’t really appreciate being fought over and then not being heard when I said I just needed a little time and space.”

Both of their faces fell, signaling the recognition of their shared mistake.

Shinsou was first to speak, “I’m sorry, Y/n. I know the both of us can get pretty competitive with one another. I didn’t mean to make you feel like just another competition or something. You’re more than that, I promise.”

“Yeah,” Midoriya chimed in, “I’m sorry too for not taking your needs into consideration. I should have been more responsive to your wishes in this situation.”

“It’s okay, guys,” you smiled, “All’s forgiven. I think I’ve more than settled the score,” your smile turned apologetic. “Because I really am having dinner with Katsu tonight. So, uh, thanks for actually snagging that reservation.”

Bakugou scoffed, standing as he scooped up both pink boxes. “Better luck next time, jerks.” He stacked one box on top of the other, allowing him a free hand to take yours as you stood from the table. “Hey, on the bright side, maybe you two can use the other reservation for yourselves.”

The two of you headed off toward his dorm building as he tossed one last jab over his shoulder. “Oh, and thanks for the dessert.”

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 1050 - Initial Thoughts

After another tediously long break we're here

50 chapters since Roof Piece started, and now we're back on Wano's floor

The raid on Onigashima might be over, but the Wano arc is still not done

Spoilers for the chapter, support the Official Release too!

Starting with the cover story and of course it's Reiju and Ichiji. Mans got no qualms throttling a kid with a knife but I'd rather have had Baeju front an centre. Told you it wasn't Blackbeard though

We pick up where we left off, Kaido crashing through the ground, even reverting to his human form

Excuse Oda but 'Hole made by *Law', he made the hole with his monster Shock Wille BM is simply falling through it

Nice touch though that Kaido only has one horn

I do wonder about those cracks though, it may destroy the waterfall entirely and make Wano easier to access for the WG ships

Yamato is on scene to catch Luffy too

Aha, title card revised, I guess that means Kaido is officially out

We also get some more flashing back with the festival as Toko and Hitetsu release their balloons

Yasu being a good dad and even eating the SMILE so Toko won't be ostracized is bittersweet, as is Hitetsu telling Toko that their dad let themselves die for a rebellion to continue

Knowing the message, Toko changes their message from 'wanting to see' Yasu to thanking him, which just hits you a little in the heart

We don't say it enough, but the festival panels have been wonderfully drawn, I hope somewhere Megumi Ishitani is rubbing her hands together in hopes of working these shots into the anime too

From the dome roof, Nekomamushi (moved pretty fast there) announces victory, as well as revealing that Momo was the pink dragon to the Samurai and that he pulled the island to safety

Oh hey Inu's alive, tbf we hadn't seen him since he beat Jack so I was thinking he might've died from overdoing Su Long

Raizo's still working though, meanwhile Kawamatsu and Denjiro have the luxury of not having to do much after fighting Kaido

Aw Bepo, and I guess aw Killer but I guess that's more non-physical

Yeah eat shit Apoo! Tell Morgans everything!

Marco you little stoic pineapple, I guess this is like a wednesday for him back in the day

No Carrot though which I'm sad about, girl's birthday was yesterday let the rabbit have her friends and be happy

No rest for Chopper though; Usopp and Franky have arrived with the wounded, boy could use some more doctors *looks directly at Law, his crew, and Marco*

Interesting, it seems through Momo's dialogue that Zunesha was to be used to open Wano's borders, but now Momo's decided against it - which to be honest is fair, but the structural integrity of the waterfall may make that border thing more difficult. He should at least issue a less stringent rule towards wanting to leave the country though

The remaining members of Kaido's crew still attack though (oh god if the waterfall breaks then Big Mom's force could come in too! Can't knock them off a waterfall if there is none!) being in denial about Kaido's defeat

Yamato though starts using his rank, telling them to honour the fact that Momo saved all their asses from Onigashima. I'm surprised they took it really, Kaido has never offered such honour, but I guess they don't wanna face Yamato (or Franky who Brook needs to hold back)

The ground rumbles though as Babanuki witnesses an underwater volcanic eruption, caused by Big Mom and Kaido's plummet

The scariest part of all of this though is that I don't think that would even kill them, if anything the eruption (which should really be a class A disaster for Wano with that much ash and magma) is probably gonna spit them out of the ocean

Luffy gets the win card too

Oh so you see and hear THAT do ya? Not the giant island that has been hurtling towards you or the gigantic clash of a flaming dragon and giant fist?

Momo comes to the flower capital to calm things, but of course everyone thinks he's Kaido

After Momo reassures everyone he decides to change back, leaving the dramatic smoke for the figures of the past to emerge

Of course, everyone sees 'Komurasaki' first, proceeding to simping (I mean, I still don't think she's top 10 but okay) and then 'Kyoshiro' without his hair

And we cliffhang on Denjiro announcing the next shogun of Wano

So it was indeed the end, no twist in the tale. And while I've said it before I'm fine with it.

People do invest too much stake into fan theories sometimes; would it have been cool to see ghosts or Zoro kill Kaido? Sure, but it would've also been cool to see Tashigi in Wano, and for Drake and Hawkins to fight alongside the supernova, and for Kaido to take particular interest in Chopper for his zoan army before fighting against the entire straw hat crew, sometimes the story just doesn't go that way and in this case, Kaido getting up one more time wasn't in it.

And let's not act like Kaido lost to 'just a big punch', he was slammed down by a Conqueror's Coated, Awakened Mythical Zoan punch the size of a small island coated in Ryou, and then it seems the eruption finished it. Given how much Kaido had survived up to this point it's fine, it's not like Luffy does much else anyway, his key attack is Punch, next people will be asking Zoro to win a fight without cutting.

And it still worth noting that he's going to have to wake up, I sincerely doubt that he and Big Mom are dead, so it does matter what their next moves are. Especially Big Mom's, the territory is likely lost for Kaido but BM has her crew still at full strength, does she sting or extract? Can even pick up some surviving scraps from Kaido's crew, and a Poneglyph if she's extra sneaky.

But yeah, this was a 'nice' chapter, one where you feel the dust starting to settle. Of course, more stuff can still happen; the volcanoes should be a problem but who knows in One Piece, Zunesha and the WG are at the back door, there's a lot of dead but a lot of living, Wano's leadership is going to change and Kaido's crew will likely need to tuck their tails between their legs. Then of course there's Zoro, Kiku and Kin'emon to deal with, and we haven't seen if Sanji survived his episode carrying Osome, Robin and Jinbe were absent from this chapter - as was Carrot, and Wanda, and Caribou, and Shinobu... - and outside of the fact that we're gonna have one hell of a rager, there feels like more is left to discover in Wano itself.

Like I said, the raid is over, but the Wano arc's not done yet.