#and i cannot STAND even an insinuation that im being a baby about something but i also will prove her point

[firstdivision]

୨ eyes locked, hands locked ୧

— chifuyu x fem reader

— college au

— 1.4k words

୨ notes ୧

MY FIRST FIC idk why i'm extremely nervous ummm hope you like it bye. i gave myself heartache w this so sorry if the same happens to you. also this is inspired by an irl interaction w a classmate but minus fuyu unfortunately the guy is still a freak who cannot take a hint.

“so have you ever tried that?”

you blink and bring your focus back to him. “tried what?”

the man in front of you doesn’t mind that you were not paying one bit of attention to him but instead perks up, eager to share his knowledge regardless of whether you are listening or not. “i guess you don’t know about risky withdrawals then? i actually attended a seminar on this the other day,” and relaunches into his spiel about conservative investing habits and holding on to equity.

something starting with a w, wataru? watanabe? you wrinkle your nose as you catch a glimpse of the stain on his collar. yuck. he had arrived late to class but unfortunately not late enough to squeeze into the seat behind you and stretch his legs out underneath your chair for the entire class period. he had tugged your shirt sleeve as you were leaving and asked you to share the notes he missed. you weren’t naive enough to miss the implications - he was barely five minutes late for god’s sake - but you had thought it would be rude to decline and as he added the promise of a free iced coffee, you rolled your eyes and agreed, figuring that you would let him take pictures of your notes and make small talk until your drink was made, then dip. fifteen minutes later, here you are. the guy didn’t even introduce himself, preferring to present himself as some kind of education machine. he keeps running his fingers through his hair in a way that he probably thinks is attractive but only brings you secondhand mortification, which coupled with the pungent smell of drugstore cologne makes you want to gag. you absentmindedly take a sip of your drink and nod along while reaching for your phone inside your tote.

you: HELP /

mitchuuuuya 😘: ?

mitchuuuuya 😘: what

you: elon musks clone wont stop talking to me were at tje cafe in north court

mitchuuuuya 😘: WHAT

mitchuuuuya 😘: WTF?

you: IK HELP ARE U PN CAMPUS STILL??

mitchuuuuya 😘: IM SO SORRY IM AT THE GIRLS SCHOOL

mitchuuuuya 😘: they’re being let out in ten minutes and i can reach campus in another ten. do you want me to call yuzuha to go find you in the meantime?

mitchuuuuya 😘: wait.

mitchuuuuya 😘: i have an idea

you: ????

you watch the three dots wiggle before they stop altogether. you assume this means yuzuha will be arriving shortly and you let out a breath and shake your drink, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders.

"you know, i found it really admirable that you took an upper-division biochem course this quarter." he seems to have finally gotten tired of holding the conversation by himself and turns the topic to you. looking at him with hooded eyes, you question, "why? everyone in our major usually starts upper-divs this quarter to graduate on time."

he runs his hand through his hair again, "it's just, you know, females don't really take biochem. i feel like most of them just want to show off. but it's cool that you did though." you feel a vein twitch in your forehead and you sit up straight, "what on earth are you trying to sa-"

“i found my baby," a familiar voice cackles from above you. no. no no nonononononono. chifuyu is not here. you're dreaming. w-something's voice finally put you to sleep and this is a dream. you lean your head back and no one other than chifuyu kisses you square on the lips with an obnoxious smack. you spin around and stand up to place your hands on his chest and look up at him with a small giggle. he wraps one arm snugly around you and teasingly dips the other down to squeeze the back of your jeans. sensing what he intends to insinuate, you stifle a laugh and playfully mess with the front strands of his hair as he pecks every inch of your face.

your classmate clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “is this your boyfriend?”

sporting a tiny grin, chifuyu intertwines your fingers and turns to him. “more like trophy husband. isn’t that right, miss research grant winner?” he looks at you with a gleam in his eye and gently tugs at your earlobe.

you can’t stop the giddiness from welling up at the look of soft determination and pride in his eyes. despite the show he is putting on right now, his words are not lies. the one you first shared the news with, the one who dropped everything to celebrate with you, the one who dashed up to you the moment the cameras turned off and presented you with what was quite possibly the largest bouquet you had ever seen. maybe your favorite boy in the world. the two of you joke that he is the brawns and you are the brains of this relationship but you’re sure that he is in fact the heart.

your classmate crumples his cup and stands up, no way left for him to save his pride, and he is thankfully able to take that hint at least. “i’ll see you around then?” you shrug. “maybe.”

you and chifuyu watch him leave before bursting into laughter. you turn in his arms and poke his cheek. “what are you doing here fuyu? i thought you had practice.”

he moves to bite your finger but you pull it back and try to break free from his arms; he simply tugs you back and you relax against his chest, the two of you in your own little world. “coach’s wife went into labor so everything got cancelled - mitsuya called and said someone was trying to steal my girl. you look pretty today, pumpkin.” he twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. you roll your eyes at his haste to change the subject and to try and disguise the flutter that runs through your chest at his words, “stop flirting.”

he flashes his cute lopsided grin, all teeth, and you nearly go blind for a moment. “what? why are you shy? it’s the truth. you look sooo pretty. my pretty girl.” he punctuates this with a wet kiss on the apple of your cheek.

“honestly fuyu, are you my boyfriend or my dog? you’re slobbering all over my face like one,” and he playfully barks twice, earning a few dirty looks from the students and staff at nearby tables. he throws his head back and cackles as you flush a rosy pink and clutch his arm to lead him outside before the two of you get banned for engaging in questionably inappropriate behavior.

“pumpkiiiiin,” he whines but is taken aback when you suddenly bury your face in his chest in the middle of the walkway, “whoa, whoa, is everything alright?”

your words come out slightly muffled from his sweatshirt but they reassure him, “yeah, it’s just been a long day.” you lift your head to peek up at him with wide eyes, “can we go to your place?” his hands cradle the back of your head with the most feathery touch that completely contradicts his tone as he teases you with an obnoxious “oh pumpkin you missed me thaaaat much?”

embarrassed, you stuff your face back into his chest and mumble a half-hearted "shut up. i’ve only been able to see you through a screen this week so why wouldn’t i…?” and his face transforms with a soft smile. chifuyu snakes his hands under your blouse to rub circles on your waist. i’m sorry pumpkin, let me make it up to you today. and i don’t have practice for the rest of this week so how about we go on a drive tomorrow, hmm? how does that sound?”

you ghost a feather-light kiss on his mouth as your response. how did you get so lucky to be able to call him yours? chifuyu looks down at you fondly, cheeks ripening red in a shy smile. he caresses your jaw with one hand and pulls you into a deeper kiss, to which you promptly part your lips on command. he hisses and runs his tongue over your bottom lip.

you reluctantly pull away from him, remembering far too late that the two of you are in a public location in the middle of a weekday and tug his hand, twisting his rings and beckoning him towards his apartment. he blinks himself out of the dazed look he had been giving you and reaches over to smooth out the strands of your hair that got mussed due to him before bringing your intertwined fingers up to his mouth for a soft kiss.

“lead the way, my pretty girl.”

— firstdivision

— do not repost

[humankoalaa]

SMFH SMFH SMFH. WTF STATION 19.

okay. there is just something about two women in love that writers can’t ever get correct and i just 😤 looking at you station 19. i don’t care if it’s a joke or some shit red herring. it’s disrespectful.

do not pride yourself on diversity and authenticity then sit on this groundbreaking pedestal that doesn’t exist. women don’t need a man to have a child. we just need his sperm. that’s the fuckin point of being married to a woman.

yes. maya and carina are bisexual HOWEVER, they are married to each other. i don’t know if the members in that writing room are just dense, lazy, out of touch or unqualified because this is pathetic and embarrassing.

this isnt even about just me being a lesbian. it simply has everything to do with how much i love the community that im a part of. we deserve so much better.

this isn’t meant to be some pity the gays rant. we don’t want pity. we want effort. we want authenticity. realistic storylines. individuals who are qualified to tell our stories.

the amount of positive feedback, warranted frustrations, and at times outta pocket anger that writers receive isn’t deliberate because we enjoy it. its deliberate because we are tired. its deliberate because maybe it’ll result in better storytelling. it’s deliberate because we are human.

this storyline for maya and carina might actually be the most disrespectful nonsense ive ever seen. again, i don’t care if it’s a red herring. it’s shit.

you mean to tell me the only route to go on this baby storyline is to insinuate that jack would be the doner? you mean to tell me a week later carina would be who suggests he be the doner?

carina deluca. THEE CARINA DELUCA. the same carina who couldn’t stand jack? all of a sudden he’s her friend who makes her laugh that’s handsome all whilst conveniently leaving out the fact that he also is the man her now wife cheated on her with. this isn’t growth. it’s stupidity.

carina deluca just woke up and decided you know what we’re getting nowhere let’s just have a child that i will look at forever that is a constant reminder that my wife cheated on me. just round of applause for the fuckery. unbelievable.

how do you ruin one of the most beautiful scenes between these two. how? what was the point of the conversation in the kitchen? it makes absolutely no sense. how did we go from “no, it should be yours. i want to have a little you. i want them to have these eyes, and this nose, and this freckle. i want to have another version of you I can count my blessings on” to basically this is hard let’s just settle? .. seriously. how did we get here?

this storyline isn’t unique. this isnt riveting storytelling. this is a joke. as a writer how in the hell are you proud of writing something so out of touch with reality. it’s one thing to use your sgnificant others ex as a sperm donor. it’s weird but there’s at least a little bit of dignity in doing so.

there is no dignity in having the person who was cheated on suggest that ex be the doner whilst foaming at the mouth explaining why she’s lost her goddamn mind. they have obliterated carinas character, whilst disrespecting the beauty of brining a child into the world in general but specifically unconventionally.

this storyline had so much potential. laziness, ignorance and being uninformed is why we’re here. just so so much opportunities to be different missed. this could’ve been the groundbreaking this show always prides itself on. instead, it’s become the same recycled nonsense. the only difference is station 19 managed to literally not give one absolute fuck on this trainwreck. straight up saw the train and jumped right in front of it.

we are human. we matter. our stories shouldn’t be used as some redemption arc for a shitty character. we’re not so desperate that we would sacrifice or morals and values for anything! if you cannot write a compelling story then don’t. if you cannot write a queer storyline, don’t.

i don’t expect people to understand why it’s so important to us that our stories be told respectfully. i don’t expect people to understand why our hurt is justified. i don’t expect people to understand why we simply deserve better.