#as a physics student I’m taking this as an ABSOLUTE WIN

[ma1dita]

kiss his face with an uppercut

smutty part 2 here-> heavy hitter

words: 4k

summary: james potter is so attractive you could beat him to death with a bludger. james potter x fem!beater!reader not from gryffindor (for the plot!!)

warnings: none! james gets physically hurt multiple times by reader, multiple innuendos, enemies to lovers kinda, less serious lovey dove more sexual tension!!! probably not accurate quidditch gameplay

a/n: sorry for the hold up guys this took almost a month of on and off editing lmfao— this whole oneshot makes me think of the filipino word ‘gigil’– simply translating to cuteness aggression; i barely know jack shit about sports much less quidditch but this concept had me looking up quidditch rules to be able to provide– eat up kids

Y/S- sibling name

Y/H- house

(posted & edited 10/10/23)

—

Oh BROTHER, this guy STINKS! I mean, how has he not gotten walloped at least once during this godforsaken game? You suck your teeth at the sight of James flying around the pitch blowing kisses to his fan club and Lily Evans, who turns her nose up at the sight of him.

Merlin, when will this game end?

The Hogwarts Quidditch Semi-Finals of 1977 was a game to watch… until both teams stopped scoring what seemed like hours ago. Both Gryffindor & (Y/H) were at a stalemate, down some players due to injury and now, even lower team morale. Gryffindor team captain and chaser James Potter, notorious Marauder, and resident flirt, is not someone who likes to lose. He’s spent all season drilling his teammates, memorizing plays, and thinking of every outcome possible to ensure another Gryffindor victory. James’ affinity to be right takes precedence over anything, after all. But after beating down almost all of (Y/H)’s reserves, James was almost vibrating with confidence. He really doesn’t lose, not if he can help it.

“AND ANOTHER (Y/H) IS DOWN WITH AN INJURY— Team captain Whithall calls for a timeout as they reconvene on what to do next! Hope you’re still comfy in the stands, folks….” the student announcer grumbles.

There’s absolute chaos on the field, and like birds scuffling over a piece of bread, (Y/S), the team’s last good beater is floating on a gurney, ready to be transported to the Hospital Wing.

“Oh, here comes trouble…” Sirius murmurs, smacking James on the back to grab his attention.

You jump down from the stands to check on (Y/S), and James is too busy reveling in the idea of winning the goddamn semi-finals that he doesn’t notice you putting Quidditch gear on.

“Easy win from here on out, Pads! The little lady’s just checking the damage. Not important,” he chortles before Sirius physically grabs his head to face the girl walking towards him, currently storming across the turf to meet him and his team.

“I’m subbing in,” you say, angry at how dirty Gryffindor’s been playing, and angry that you even have to play in (Y/S)’s stead.

“Sweetheart, this game is for serious, you know that right?” James says a bit dumbly with a furrowed brow. Both of you are head to head, and James sees the twitch in your eye as you cross your arms. Hot air is seeping out of your pores but James’s lip simply quirks up in intrigue. You’re someone he hasn’t noticed before, and the only thing running through his mind besides winning the game is that you’re really pretty. But then again, he’s always found angry women to be attractive, in retrospect.

“Yeah, for the actual cup, not…for Sirius… It’s the wrong time to joke, innit?” Sirius says to break the ice, noticing the palpable tension between your glares. Your faces are inches away from each other and he’s not sure if you two are going to fight or kiss, but it makes him grimace all the same.

“Who do you think (Y/S) practices with? Unlike you and your friends, I know when to take things seriously,” You say through gritted teeth.

“She’s legit, Potter. Got added to our reserves last week.” Whithall pipes up, ready to get back to the game. The crowd has been weathered down after hours of anticipation, and they want to see the end of it, no matter the outcome.

“Much to my surprise,” you grumble, elbowing the authority in the form of a teenage boy not much older than yourself. You should’ve known your sibling was looking a little too happy as they got floated off the pitch on a gurney.

“Then let’s play. Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” James says condescendingly, floating away on his broomstick like it’s a walk in the park, but the way you’re slapping the bat against your palm is getting Sirius a tiny bit nervous for his precious countenance. The whistle blows and the game resumes.

“A SURPRISE ADDITION (Y/N) JOINS HER HOUSE AS BEATER! Gryffindor better watch out for her swi—” You slam the bludger in James’s direction and it hurtles toward him so fast that he almost folds in half, barrel-rolling on his broom to dodge it. The move makes Sirius and a few of their other teammates gasp to see James scrambling back onto his broom.

“Oops! Looks like I missed.” you deadpan, balancing midair as you whack another one where it rebounds off the Gryffindor seeker and back towards James, hitting both of them in the gut.

“THIS GIRL’S GOT AN ARM ON HER! Though might I say her hits look a bit targeted…” The commentator says worriedly, and everyone in the crowd is leaning in their seats trying to get a better view.

“Merlin, are you trying to kill me woman?” he yells in outrage.

“I’m trying to finish the game. Your big head is in the way,” you say with a straight face as Sirius bats towards you, and you spin on your broomstick without shifting your posture. The smile on your face as you taunt him should be considered criminal, but he’s looking at you in a new light.

Yeah, now he’s paying attention. The other Gryffindor players can’t seem to figure out your next move and you bat another bludger towards Potter’s extremely large target of a head, and all of a sudden he’s freefalling through the air as his teammates fly to catch him, one by one. His nose still makes impact with the ground before Sirius catches by the ankle like Achilles taking a dip in the River Styx.

“AND (Y/H) HAS CAPTURED THE SNITCH! Good job to their Seeker, Appleby! Congratulations on a job well done, so that we can all finally go home.” The commentator cringes as McGonagall swats at him to leave the podium.

Who even is she, taking over the game and stealing his win like that?

He’s walking up from the sidelines with a bloody nose, going to shake Whithall’s hand and you’re standing behind him, a malicious grin plastered between your rosy cheeks, windswept and almost ethereal while he looks like he got flattened by a hippogriff. Fuck, she’s pretty. You look like you floated down from the heavens, and by the looks his team gives him, he may have just crawled out of the earth.

“Congrats,” he grumbles, turning to you. Really pretty. It’s even worse that you’re devastatingly stunning up close— with sweat glistening on your brow and a pearly white smile, he takes a good moment to really look at you and memorize the flutter of your eyelashes. He’s unsure if he’s concussed or maybe it’s his astigmatism, but there are actual stars in his vision as he peers down at you. Your confidence is actually kind of sexy.

“You look…um…you ride well.” He stutters, shaking his head from his personal reverie.

“Excuse me?” you say, your little mouth agape in what he hopes is not disgust. He looks pathetic, blood sopping down to his jersey as he looks at you like he’s only seeing you for the first time, acknowledging you closely. Something about seeing him flail makes you crinkle your nose as you stifle a grin.

“I mean…Um…” Damn.

Sirius pulls his best friend away before you can bite back your laughter, all of your teammates leading you away to celebrate.

“Mate, what the shit was that? Are you alright in the head?” Sirius says, and if James’ nose wasn’t already bleeding he was going to slap him silly.

“Just…Didn’t see that coming…” he mumbles, and his mind, along with all of Gryffindor is in disarray as they walk back to their tower. He’s got a lot of thinking to do on what his next move will be.

—

James Potter goes through life in three methodical ways: 1.) creating a strategy, 2.) making a scene, 3.) and dragging his friends into it— in that particular order, every single time.

Now notice how considering consequences is not part of said process.

His ego wouldn’t let him rest after a girl, much less a very pretty one that he’d never noticed before—beat him at what he does best; quidditch! In fact, the next few nights were void of sleep and filled with thoughts of you. The way your hair looked so soft in the sunlight, how your lip turns almost Gryffindor red when you bite it in concentration, and maybe how your delicate hands would look as they tightly grasp onto his bat...ahem…your quidditch bat. Some dirty delusions aside, if looks could kill, he’d be dead seven times over, but honestly? He’d probably thank you for it.

James’ new mission was to figure you out, and if that was his mission, it meant it was the rest of the Marauders’ too. For the sake of winning the Cup, of course. That’s what he tries to tell himself until his mates catch him ogling you again at breakfast.

“So what is it with you and girls that inflict you nothing but pain and humiliation?” Remus muses, as the Marauders watch James laugh at a joke you told your friends at the (Y/H) table across the Great Hall. He looks at you like someone who stares at the sun, squinting and burning himself as he ponders on why he’s unable to look away.

James fumbles a response, shoving Remus as they all laugh. “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a masochistic streak, Moony. Just…There’s something about her…”

Your friends are pointing at him now, and as you turn to meet his eyes, you lift a brow inquisitively and flip him off. Sirius’s face pulls up in shock at James’s growing smile at the interaction as he mumbles, “Maybe you’ve met your match, Prongs…”

The boy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, anything to try to see you clearer as he leans over to put his head in his hands, sighing dreamily. His friends are not as easily amused.

“A match made in heaven, you reckon?”

—

“Match made in hell, more like!” You spit, almost choking on your scrambled eggs at your friends’ insinuations. Your back is as stiff as a board, shoulders tight at the notion of you ever liking James Potter triggering your fight or flight response. When it comes to someone as pompous as him, only the word fight comes to mind.

“Oh come on, love… He’s popular, funny, and quite handsome…It’s James freaking Potter we’re talking about!” your roommate gushes, but you're not the least bit impressed.

“Is that supposed to do anything for me? I can think of a few F words that middle initial can stand for…” Eyes rolling, you peek back at the Gryffindor table to see said boy wiggling his fingers at you teasingly until he accidentally smacks Peter in the face with his toast. Idiot.

“Only hot people get away with stupid shit. I mean look at the four of them!” you continue, gulping down the rest of your coffee. “Potter’s the worst out of all of them though. Big ass head must compensate for a lot of things." You say, shaking your head at your friends.

"And yet, here you are, talking about him for the fourth time this morning," your roommate replies, smirking. " You’ve been Potter crazy since you helped us beat Gryffindor in the semi-finals! Are you sure you don't have a crush on him?"

"No!" you say too quickly, too loudly, that the shrill noise of your voice makes your ears hurt and the shit-eating grins on your friends’ faces reflect how desperate that came off. You slump onto the table, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You wanna kiss him, don’t you?” they tease, and you push away their puckering faces as you scoff, “With an uppercut, maybe!” Almost makes you want to stomp over there and wipe the stupid look off his face…and maybe sit on his lap. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. All this aggression really needs to go somewhere, but unfortunately, James Potter’s lap is the only destination you have in mind.

“He’s just really punchable. I get so annoyed by the sight of him I just want to… ugh!” you groan, your hands shaking as you try to convince them (or yourself). Your friends cackle at the sight of you pretending to squeeze his curly-topped, mothball-filled head, but your brain changes course and you imagine what it’s like to hold his hand. Your fingers flex cautiously at the idea, wondering what his touch would feel like. Grabbing a glass of water to cool your thoughts, your peripherals reveal he’s still staring at you like you make night turn into day. His gaze is searing, and as you put your lips around your straw, he licks his lips slowly. Shit.

—

Availability bias is one hell of a mindfuck. If only they taught psychology at this magic school, maybe the wizarding world would have way fewer problems and more people would be straightforward and not.. Dead. James decides he can categorize his life now as before you, and after you.

Before you, well… he honestly wasn’t even sure if you were a student at Hogwarts until he saw you marching down the pitch, but now… You’re everywhere. He can spot your voice in a crowded hallway, and who was going to tell him you’ve had three classes with him this whole term? Even down to when he shuts his eyes, he’s convinced his eyelids are branded with the imprint of your silhouette. Every conversation he strikes with you ends with you laughing at him, and he’s unsure if that’s a step up or down from the many boisterous rejections from Lily Evans over the years. He sort of wishes you’d laugh with him, and do a number of other things, (heck he’s got a list of ideas he’s wanked off to), and well… His soul is tightly wound with thoughts of you and Godric, listen to this guy…. maybe the boys were right…. Maybe he really does need to get laid.

It’s funny how fate works, two people who’ve barely interacted in the past six years at Hogwarts are now paired together for a History of Magic essay worth 20% of the term grade. You’re trying to get this done as fast as possible, he notices, mapping out ideas and trying to discuss how to piece it all together, yet James does everything but that to get you to pay attention to him. He fills your head with mundane little questions, asking you what your favorite fruit is to the childhood bedtime story your parents told you as a kid.

“What’s your middle name, Potter?” You muse, finally entertaining him after endless chatter. His eyes trail to the exposed skin of your collarbones as you stretch in your seat, and well… you don’t look as menacing as you always do but did it seriously have to be this question? He scratches the back of his head, silent for the first time in the two hours you’ve been trying to craft this essay for the sake of both your grades.

“What? I can’t just go around calling you James Fucking Potter. Spit it out, you know too much about me already.”

He clears his throat, a blush creeping up his neck. “It’s… that’s an intimate question, love… I…”

Your laughter at his response makes his senses shut down. “Oh, so it’s bad. What is it, Franklin? Fabio? Come on, I won’t bite.” A part of him wishes you would, your face equally flushed and so close to him right now, almost leering at him for an answer. It’d be easy to just lean over…

“Fleamont.”

Your lips quirk, until they pucker like you’ve guzzled a lemon. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, and the sound explodes out of you. You laugh so loudly Madam Pince kicks you both out of the library, James carrying both your knapsacks, a hand around your waist as you rush out of there. Your body is firm under his touch, pupils unfocused and dilated looking at him now that you know his dirty little secret. James thinks that if you keep looking at him like that, hell, you can call him anything you want.

—

Fleamont.

What a prick. A really attractive, clueless prick. The memory makes you giggle as you get ready for the Quidditch Cup and your team charges out onto the field to face Gryffindor again, as you’ve both advanced to the finals. He’s not as much of an asshole as you originally thought. It’s undeniable that something pulls you towards him, whether it be hormones, concern, or the fact that it’s actually adorable the way he writes his mother back weekly, or admirable how he moved Sirius out of Black Manor himself last year. Maybe it’s endearing the way he goes out of his way to make first-years smile or heartwarming how even Filch can’t find reasons to hate him. The golden boy. You get it now, why people get trapped in his web, and why many are unwilling to leave.

You pass him outside the locker rooms, bumping shoulders as he smiles almost bashfully. The golden boy, loudmouth, ball of energy is reduced to a nervous pile of teenage ineptness at the sight of you, every time. You could take him (not in a fight). In an actual fight, maybe you could land a few solid hits before his nice muscly arms hold you do—

“Ready to finish this, darling?”

Your eyes refocus when his hand nudges the small of your back, right above your hip. “Mhmm,” you clear your throat, “Ready to lose, Potter?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moves closer, slowly backing you into the wall.

“Eyes on the prize Potter, I’m in this to win it.” You say, looking at the closing distance between both your chests. James nods, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment, even when the announcer calls out the imminent start of the game.

“WELCOME TO THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP OF 1977 GRYFFINDOR VS. (Y/H)! I hope you are all excited as our last match between these teams was quite thrilling at the end of it!” The announcer says, hyping up the roaring crowd as your teams parade onto the pitch.

His eyes are still on you when he shakes Whithall’s hand and the whistle blows. It’s intense, and makes you feel like you’re burning, even if the wind is blowing like crazy today. You bat the bludgers toward anything red on the field that even dares to move toward your teammates. James won’t stop staring at you, and you both lock eyes across the pitch.

“What? Flirt with me later, Potter, I’m trying to win!” you yell.

He’s got you transfixed, and it’s crazy how his timing is always wrong. You bat the bludger away from your captain but don’t notice James flying towards you to respond as you give it your hardest swing, making the impact against his huge target of a head all the more painful.

Holy shit, did you kill him?

He keels off his broom like a shot bird and then he’s falling, and you’re the one chasing the Gryffindor chaser as he flaps his arms like the idiot you know he is as you push forward to catch him before he splits his skull open.

“I’msofuckingsorryJamesareyouokay?” You blurt out as you land, soft hands moving over his broad chest and quickly swelling face. He’s wearing that stupid grin again, and you think you may have finally broken Gryffindor’s team captain.

“You know my name?” he sighs happily, comfortable in your lap and maybe it’s the brain damage you’ve caused him or the way his glasses are bent beyond repair but you will every magical predecessor you can think of to stop you from punching him in the face right now.

“Are you fucking dense?” You scream, shaking your head, and jostling him as his arms try to reach out to swipe the hair away from your face.

“Must’ve hit him so hard you knocked his filter loose..” Sirius muses after he lands next to you two on the grass.

“POTTER’S TAKEN A HIT FROM (Y/H) and it doesn’t look good ladies and gents! Gryffindor calls a timeout to check on their captain!” The announcer calls out, and there are so many eyes on the two of you as James is simply giggling like a prepubescent schoolboy. Fuck, you’ve maimed the golden boy.

“Y’know, sweetheart. You’re…really sexy when you’re on top of me like this,” he says breathily, and you really can’t hit him, so you jab Sirius in the gut instead when he tries to laugh at his best friend’s stupidity.

—

James wakes up in the hospital wing with a blinding headache until someone gently pulls the curtains closed, stroking the hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Poppy you always take such good care of me…” he mumbles. A punch lands on his chest and his eyes rip open, not expecting to see you at his bedside.

“Idiot,” you mutter. “You’re always in my way and now look, you almost got yourself killed and it would’ve been my fault! How dare you, James…” The red is crawling up your neck like a brushfire as you berate him, and he takes it with a grin as you jabber on, putting his arms behind his head.

“Were you worried about me, love?” James smiles cheesily, catching your arm at its half-hearted attempt to slap him across the face.

“I was not. Stubborn people like you are hard to kill. I’m more annoyed that I can’t morally punch your face in since you have a concussion. Madame Pomfrey’s already healed your cheekbone.”

“That you broke,” he says matter-of-factly, taking a chance to kiss the palm of your hand. This concussion is working like a bottle of Felix Felicis. It’s endearing to see you taking care of him, whether you like it or not (even with the punches he’s sure it’ll come with).

“You’re sick in the head.”

“For you. I was trying to come tell you that I never took my eyes off the prize, but then of course you bludgeoned my face in before I could get sweet on yo—”

Your lips crash down on his, and nothing about it is delicate. It’s a month’s worth of yearning, imaginations coming to fruition as he grabs the back of your head to deepen the embrace. Your lips on his are hot and heady, and he could be easily convinced that he’s stuck there, cauterized to the shape of you.

“I know. I could feel you watching.” You breathe into his mouth, leaning up on his chest. His lips chase up again to meet yours, biting down on your bottom lip as you groan. He might like that noise better than the sound of your laughter. It’ll be fun to find out.

“Who won the Cup?”

Laughter spills out of your red, kiss-swollen lips as you pat his cheek gently, fingers grazing over his healed cheekbone.

“Not Gryffindor. But listen closely James, if you be a good boy and get past this concussion, I’ll make up for it by showing you how well I ride…”

He likes the sound of that, Quidditch Cup be damned. You see, James Potter never loses, ladies and gentlemen, not really—and well... there’s always next year.

—

“I like the way

you look at me

like you are

going to talk to me

or devour me

and I am fine with either.”

-N.R. Hart

taglist: @jsjcue

[heaven-s-black-box]

Not so Subtle- Aomine x fem!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: April 8th, 2024

Description: Hiii omg could you write something for Aomine Daiki? Female reader, tall, large chest and midsize pretty please 🙏🏽 Ok, so it would take place after Seirin's win of the Winter Cup (so he's less of an asshole, but still yk). New girl student, settling in really good, she's pretty, funny, confident and witty. So he can only like, like her. They banter a lot and get friends really fast, fall in love, yadayada. Summed up: friends to lover, female/tall/witty/large chest/midsize reader OH! Bonus if you can make a scene with Kagami showing some interest in her.

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contribution. I had a ton of fun writing this! The reader's physical appearance doesn't come up much, but as I was writing i considered her to be around 5'10" so she was slightly taller than Momoi and slightly shorter than Aomine. Also, reader's conversation with Kagami can be interpreted as having visited or being from America.

Word count: 1 923

Back to directory

Starting at a new school halfway through the year is a terrible experience. The easiest way to make new friends is to bond over being in a new environment, having few to no friends, and the stress of exams. Showing up in January skips over all of that and leaves you to make new friends with your own social skills.

“Hi! I’m L/n Y/n, can I join you guys for lunch?”

“Hi! I’m L/n Y/n, can I be on your team today?”

“Oh, hey, you walk home this way too? I’m L/n Y/n.”

Y/n has no idea why her parents were so worried about starting her in a new school so late in the year. This was easy. Sure not everyone she talked with ended up being her friend, but she’d somehow ended up involved with the basketball team.

Scratch that, she knew exactly how she’d wound up as one of the basketball team’s managers.

“Y/n-chan!” Momoi squeals, through herself at the other woman’s back.

Momoi’s arms wrap around Y/n’s shoulders and the woman leans forward so that Momoi is laying on her back as they both laugh. When Y/n stands back up Momoi carefully drops back to the floor and links their arms together.

“Sa-chan, welcome back. Over your cold?”

“Mhm.”

The two continued over to the gym. Momoi was practically leaning against Y/n with her head on the taller woman’s shoulder as she complained about the last few days.

“Dai-chan didn’t even visit me! Let’s see how he likes it when I don’t visit him next time he’s sick. He probably wasn’t even practicing,” she grumbled.

“Hate to break it to you but he was.”

“Of course he was, seriously, I thought losing to Seirin-”

“No, I mean he was practicing.”

Momoi stopped, hand outstretched to the gym door, and turned to face Y/n. The annoyed pout she’d been sporting during her rant morphed into a wide smile.

“Really?! I’m so glad.”

Y/n laughed, reaching past Momoi and opening the door.

“I mean, I had to hunt him down yesterday because he skipped class and fell asleep, but ya he's been-”

The squeaking sound of shoes on the gym floor, followed by a dunk and yelling cut her off. The managers looked over to the hoop on the far end of the court and found Aomine being chewed out by Wakamatsu. Aomine’s attention, however, was drawn towards the women as the sound of the door closing echoed through the gym. He waved, turning Wakamatsu’s attention away from him and allowing him to slip away to the stage.

“Momoi, welcome back, are you feeling better?”

“Much, thank you!”

“Aomine!” Y/n yelled, stopping the forward half way across the gym. “Apologize.”

“I didn’t do shit!”

“That’s the problem!” Wakamatsu complained. “You absolutely could have stopped that dunk.”

“Dai-chan-”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” All eyes turned to Y/n who’d taken a seat on the stage. “I mean, I’m sure that red haired dude from Seirin would love to get some dunks past him, Aomine’s just being considerate.”

“Hah?”

The rest of the team turned away, covering their mouths, to stifle their laughter as Aomine’s face visibly twitched in annoyance. Momoi cleared her throat and took a deep breath.

“Dai-chan, practice seriously. Seirin will be here soon.”

It was still weird for the team to see Aomine listen to people. Sure he dragged his feet plenty, in this case literally as he made his way back to Wakamatsu and the rest of the team, but since the Winter cup he was seemingly more open to suggestions. And when suggestions didn’t work, the new manager seemed adept at getting under his skin enough to make him want to do whatever it was he needed to.

Momoi joined Y/n on the stage and pulled her clipboard out of her bag.

“He likes you,” Momoi whispered as she flipped through papers to find her notes on Seirin.

“Not this again.”

“He listens to you, he doesn’t even listen to me!”

“He listens to you.”

“Only if he already wants to do whatever it is, remember last week when we were studying? He tried to take a nap and he only went back to studying after you asked.”

“Okay, he likes me… as a friend that he acknowledges won’t deal with his bullshit.”

Momoi rolls her eyes and hands Y/n the clipboard before resting her chin on her shoulder to see the paper.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Momoi muttered. “Alright, so…”

As the team got some last minute practice in, Momoi gave Y/n a last minute crash course on Seirin.

Just as they were getting to the bench players, Momoi’s phone rang.

“Tetsu!” She squealed as she accepted the call and slid off the stage. The team stopped practicing and Wakamatsu got everyone to start cleaning up. “How did you guys get lost?”

“Yo.” Y/n looked to her right to find Aomine leaning against the stage. He slid a piece of paper over to her feet, the number 74 was written and circled in red marker. “Thanks.”

“Seventy-four, nice.” She picked up the test and gave it a quick once over. “Impressive, you didn’t get a zero on any of the questions.”

“Ya, well I had an okay teacher.”

“Sa-chan got a ninety and I got a ninety-eight, so you own us ice-cream today.”

Rolling his eyes, Aomine snatched back his test and stuffed it in his bag. 

“Sorry we’re late!” A chorus of voices called out.

The two first years turned to find the Seirin basketball team, being led in by Momoi, taking their shoes off. Momoi skipped over to her friends and grabbed Y/n’s hands, pulling her from the stage.

“Come on, there’s someone you need to meet!”

“Alright, I’m coming. We’ll talk more after the game, Aomine!”

---

Tōō won, ending twenty points ahead of Seirin. Not unexpectedly as Kuroko’s misdirection was completely useless and Kiyoshi was gone. What was unexpected was the way Aomine seemed to be targeting Kagami, whether that be scoring through Seirin’s ace or shutting down as many of his scoring attempts as possible. During the break after the first half, Wakamtsu had chewed the ace out for showing off.

“We’re winning, aren’t we?”

“This isn’t about winning, it’s about getting better!”

Aomine had just shrugged.

“I think he’s jealous,” Momoi whispered after the players had left at the end of the break.

“We’re in the middle of a game.”

“I think it’s because you were talking with Kagami.”

“You were the one who said I should meet him,” Y/n huffed.

“I had to test a theory.”

“What theory?”

Momoi glanced over at Y/n, but was cut off by the coach clearing his throat.

Seirin headed out almost immediately after the game, while the Tōō players cleaned the gym. This time, Y/n walked them back to the bus stop so that they wouldn't get lost again. When she got back, she found Aomine sitting on the steps with her bag.

“Where’s Sa-chan?”

“She left, said she was feeling kind of tired and wanted a rain check on her ice-cream.”

Aomine handed Y/n her bag, and the two made their way to the school entrance.

“No post-match debriefing today?”

“I have no idea, everyone was being weird as fuck.”

Y/n nodded slowly. It was a logical conclusion that Momoi had introduced her to Kagami to make Aomine jealous, and that she’d convinced the team to clear out before she got back so that they’d be alone. Skipping ahead, Y/n turned around to face Aomine and kept walking backwards. It didn’t seem like they were being watched.

“Speaking of weird as fuck-oof.”

“Wall.”

“Fuck you,” Y/n grumbled, making Aomine laugh as she stepped around the wall and on to the sidewalk. “What was up during today’s game?”

“What about it?”

“Sa-chan thinks you’re jealous.”

“Tch, jealous of what?”

Y/n shrugged. “Race you to the convenience store!”

“Hey!”

Obviously Y/n didn’t plan to win. Aomine pulled ahead of her almost immediately, once he recovered from the surprise, and maintained a decent lead to arrive at the store just before her without leaving her completely in the dust. He laughed as she finally arrived and immediately collapsed against the side of the building, trying to catch her breath.

“So, what’s my prize?” He grins, bracing an arm above her and leaning in so they were eye level.

She raised her index finger to his face.

“Would you like to cash your prize in now or save up?”

“Why did Satsuki say I was jealous?”

“That’s what you want your prize to be?”

Y/n straightened up and joined Aomine in leaning sideways against the wall.

“Answer the question or you’re buying ice-cream.”

“Ah.”

Pushing off the wall, Y/n grabbed the front of Aomine’s shirt and pulled him into the store after her. The two made a B-line for the frozen section at the back.

“She thought you’d be jealous I was talking with Kagami,” Y/n shrugged, picking up Aomine’s favorite popsicle and her own.

The sound of the freezer closing filled the store, and the buzzing of the lights seemed incredibly loud in the silence that followed. Y/n looked over at Aomine to find him staring at her. She held out his popsicle, waving in front of his face when he didn’t immediately take it.

“What were you two talking about?”

“Huh?”

“You and Kagami. Why was he blushing?”

“Oh my god you’re jealous,” Y/n mumbled.

Aomine grabbed his popsicle and pushed the back of her head as he walked towards the counter. A wide grin spread across Y/n’s face as she chased after him, setting her treat next to his.

“We were talking about America and he was blushing because I said it was cute that he and his brother have matching rings.”

“Don’t call him cute.”

“I didn’t call him cute, I called the idea of having matching rings cute.”

“I could get us matching rings,” Aomine muttered.

The sound of the convenience store bell nearly drowned his voice out as they left the store, but Y/n was right on his heels and barely caught it.

“Sa-chan also said you like me.”

Y/n ran right into Aomine’s back when he stopped suddenly. She watched the back of his head as she unwrapped her treat and started eating.

“I think it’s funny that everyone thinks I haven’t figured it out.” Aomine’s shoulders tense up. “I mean, I wouldn’t say you’re subtle when you look at my boobs.” 

Y/n gently kicks the back of Aomine’s heel, urging him to keep walking. When he didn’t move she sidestepped him and started walking in front of him.

When he didn’t keep walking with her, she turned around.

He didn’t look stunned, definitely flushed, but he looked impatient– like he’d been waiting for her to turn around. Y/n inclined her head.

“You could’ve said something.”

“I could’ve,” Y/n shrugged as she walked back up to Aomine. “But I wanted to see the great Aomine grovel, just a bit.”

He frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you need to ask me out.”

“Go out with me.”

Y/n sighed. “That wasn’t a question.”

“Nope, now let’s go get burgers.”

Aomine opened his popsicle and wrapped his free arm around Y/n’s shoulder as the two headed down the street.

[azulsluver]

Hey hi hello!!! I hope you're having a nice day today! If it's not a bother, I'll be leaving a request for your bully!au. Maybe with a reader who's a hot head? Like, the moment they start acting up, readers already in their face asking questions like "why the fuck are you being such a dick?" Normally, reader could conceal this if it was the normal twst, but the moment the twst guys start slipping, reader is already confronting them on why they are being such assholes. You know how narancia from jjba acts like when he's stressed or mad? Yeah exactly like that! Pulling out the knife out too. Reader doesn't care about their reputation, so they wouldn't care less if they were threatened by that. I love your writing too!!! I always look forward to it when I open Tumblr. Thank you for reading, and have a nice day!!

This is not gonna end well…BUT THANK YOU BEST COMPLIMENT OF THE BLOG!!! <333

Buncha rambles, dunno where this was gonna lead so sorry if this isn’t what you wanted 😅

tw. yandere, bully!characters, mentions of stabbing/murder, manipulative!reader for the win 🏆

No one is gonna side with you. The bystanders do absolutely nothing till this point, reputation is very important and they don’t want it being dirty with yours (lmao ironic). Besides people like Lilia, Malleus, and Jade—they find your “hot-headed” personality attractive.

You’ll get picked on more yes, these students are much stronger than you by far, but you wouldn’t go down without them having a piece of your mind. Calling out on their schemes will make some embarrass— Cater, Ace, Epel. Others will be more aggressive or try to turn the situation around and blame you for overreacting.

Pulling a stunt as trying to knife one of them? May be successful if I’m honest. Depends on who you choose to do so, you won’t be alone in a group of two, they’ll always be another watching or tagging along. They’ll keep in mind to not let you be near any sharp or heavy objects, you clearly can’t handle being by yourself.

I can see a hot-headed reader making it far for themselves and not fall too deep into the victim pit. Standing up for yourself is already hard enough, you’re going against people who are training to become said mages. But at the end of the day everyone is still human no matter how cruel they are. They aren’t bullet proof nor emotionless. Get them to hurt, physically or mentally, with their guard down you can successfully have them under your thumb.

Reader who butts in first and steps up, show some respect around here. This will help you gain sympathy from bystanders and a little chance for them to befriend. That’s where Jack comes in. You’ve shown him you were worthy of helping and not just some runt who lets people walk all over them. This won’t be enough to overthrow any housewarden or powerful mage, but it’ll do.

People are not gonna enjoy your pushy and rude attitude for long, the pros and cons don’t weigh as equally. Especially when the cons lead to death.

“Oh but why don’t they get in trouble?”

Because they know how to clean up a scene and fast. Also who would believe you, a strange person who came out of the coffin when you weren’t supposed to be there. No one trusts you and won’t take your side, and since this is a bully!AU people tend to look the other way if murder is convicted. You aren’t all that important with little to no background, the perfect victim to get rid of.

And Idia gets rid of the evidence if there’s any camera involved.

You can’t just go around and stab people at random, let alone pick a fight. What you need is strategy. Be more self aware and focused, as difficult it is to talk to a brick wall, it’ll crumble if you stay long enough to experience it’s downfall. For those interested in knowing who can actually lose to a let’s say…neutral reader (fairly strong enough and a good amount of willpower), my take is on Riddle, Deuce, Ace, Azul, Jack, Epel, Rook, Vil, Idia, Malleus, and surprisingly last Sebek.

Should’ve switched the surprisingly for Rook because wow. Show them who’s boss babe, besides your cowardly counter part they are doomed if you’re more dominant. Not in a weird way lol, take the wheel of your life outta their greasy hands!

[carnivorousyandeere]

Ok since we're feeling poly and non-smut so reader giving EXTRA TRIPLE love and affection for the babies - Erik and Thorn on V day?

I love you anon 😭🫶 thank you for being patient with me and the lack of good smut lately (/p /gen)

Together:

The Prof’s not the most romantic person in the world, and honestly, Thorn isn’t either. Erik would rather go for one of his usual dates (staying at home while drinking wine, going to an opera, ballet, or classical play) than plan something special for Valentine’s. Thorn would also rather go for one of her usual dates (roller skating, mall crawling, hanging out at the arcade, smoking weed together). They absolutely hate each other’s date ideas. The only thing they’d have in common is you, so they’d begrudgingly form a truce to plan something everybody can tolerate. They end up deciding to take you out to eat.

It’d be a miracle if they didn’t start fighting during the date, but if they make it through, the night could end with the three of you falling asleep cuddling (you in the middle because they both get the ick at the thought of touching each other affectionately), or it could actually end up in a threesome (with Thorn and Erik still fighting over you).

It’s like trying to get two very angry cats to learn how to live together. The fact that you’re so sweet, giving them so much love and attention equally really helps. The more verbally and physically affectionate you are with them the whole day, the better behaved they end up being.

Thorn:

Decks herself out in a bunch of candy necklaces and bracelets, and puts some on you, too. Grabs your hand and takes you away from whatever your original plans were for the day (preparing a surprise date for her 💀). “Today’s the day!” Her eyes shine with determination. “I’m gonna fuckin win you that giant teddy bear from the arcade!” It was not the day. You go home without a teddy bear, and Thorn pouts the whole way home. She pauses at all the half-finished decorations at your place. “W-what’s all this?”

You feel your face grow warm with embarrassment. “It was for you… but I wasn’t sure if you’d like it…”

You barely get the chance to finish the sentence before Thorn launches herself at you, wrapping you in a hug so tight you think your ribs might crack. “For me?!” She shakes you back and forth, overwhelmed with excitement. She stills eventually, burying her head in your shoulder with a sigh. “This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Erik:

Would’ve forgotten it was Valentine’s if it weren’t for their students getting on their nerves asking if they can cancel class for the holiday, or at least get less homework.

They scoff at the idea and try to avoid thinking about Valentine’s Day, and to think about you with it. Sitting at their desk, chin in their hand, grumbling to themself. Surely you don’t need some cheesy date and gaudy gifts to feel secure with him…? But he feels increasingly agitated the more he thinks about it.

Erik buys you a single rose on their way home.

They’re surprised to see a table set for two complete with rose petals, candles, and champagne flutes. A swell of emotion rises in Erik’s chest, and they can’t tell if it’s painful or not. The thorns of the rose they’d bought for you dig into their palm.

Erik rounds the corner to the kitchenette, met with you in an apron, preparing a meal for the both of you. His throat is dry, too dry to greet you, and you’re frightened half to death when you turn to see him.

“E-Erik! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You laugh, and it’s the best sound he’s heard all day. If he were honest, they’d admit it was the best sound he’d ever heard in his life. “Now, go, go! You’re spoiling the surprise!”

You try to usher Erik out of the kitchen, only to spot his scratched-up hand. “W-what happened?”

Erik offers you the rose, and watches in a daze as you take the rose and put it aside, grasping his hand and fussing over him instead. You’re gently washing the wounds and placing band-aids over them when the smoke alarm goes off. “Oh, fuck, the dessert!”

Tag list: @hana-no-seiiki

[winryofresembool]

Jily one-shot: That Time of the Month

Summary: Lily isn't feeling well while attempting to finish her Head Girl duties. Luckily James is there to help.

For @jilymicrofics prompt 'flush'

words: 2600+

genre: fluff (with a bit of physical hurt/comfort)

rated: G

@athenasparrow you seemed curious about this one!

AO3

...

“Evans.” James raised his gaze from the detention slips he was trying to go through, sitting at a desk in the Heads’ Office. “I know you take great pride in finishing your work when you’re supposed to, rather than doing things the Sirius way - such as, doing your homework 5 minutes before the class - but you look like you’ve been hit by several powerful Bat-Bogey Hexes in a row. Are you OK?”

“I'd be better if you didn’t interrupt me, Potter,” Lily snapped. James gave her a disbelieving look and she huffed in response. “I’m doing just fine, I just really need to have this done before the meeting…”

James got up from his chair and stopped next to her, covering the piece of parchment she had been reading with his hand. “You’re a really bad liar, you know.  C’mon, you can tell me if something is wrong.”

Lily muttered something incoherent that James couldn’t understand.

“Pardon?” He raised his eyebrow.

“I’m. on. my. period. right now. There. Are you happy?” she growled, her cheeks and ears getting some extra color.

“Oh.” James wasn’t sure what he was supposed to answer to that. He knew that periods were a perfectly normal thing but the girls he knew rarely talked about them, at least near him, unless they absolutely had to, for example if it was hindering their flying during Quidditch practices. “I’m… sorry?”

“Well, don’t be. Now, will you finally let me do my work?” She gave him a gloomy look and attempted to steal the piece of parchment back from him.

Something about Lily’s demeanor finally gave James his tongue back. “No.”

“Excuse me?” 

James took a step closer to her. “Lily, as your fellow Head Student I don’t want you to force yourself to work when you could and should be taking care of yourself. I can handle this.”

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” Lily glared up at him but her voice had lost a lot of its earlier sharpness.

“Afraid not. Not without a fight, at least.” James grinned, pretending to draw his wand from his pocket. Lily’s shoulders hunched and she hid her face into her hands.

“Fine,” she mumbled against the palms of her hands. “If you let me finish our patrol schedule now, I promise to be a good girl and take a nap after that.”

“Alright.” James agreed, choosing to take that as a win, and turned his attention back to the detention slips. He only had time to read through a couple of them before Lily muttered to herself: “No, this can’t be right.”

“What can’t?” he inquired, and Lily’s expression told him she hadn’t realized she was speaking aloud.

“I accidentally put Fawley on a patrol twice in the same week. And Price, I forgot she can’t patrol with Lovegood; they just had this big fight a couple of weeks ago and haven’t spoken to each other since then. And looks like Crouch is missing from here altogether…”

“Okay, Evans,” James clapped his hands together. “I believe it’s time for an intervention. I’m going to take this,” he pulled the schedule from Lily’s hands, “and I’m going to use a neat little charm the boys and I came up with when we were… uh, inventing something. It should help me put all the names in order with a single tap of my wand. I just need a list of who can and can’t patrol together.”

Lily sighed and handed him a list she usually kept hidden in a locked drawer. The new Head Students had quickly noticed in the beginning of the semester that it was quite necessary; the Prefects could be a rather dramatic group of people when they wanted to. 

“I haven’t written it down yet but the other day I heard that McGriffiths and Gudgeon are dating now… so unless we want to keep checking if they’re snogging in a broom closet instead of patrolling… Ugh, bloody hell, literally!”

James was confused by Lily’s last exclamation until he turned his eyes from the list back to her. She was wincing, her hand on her lower abdomen and her eyes closed. James hated seeing her in pain and wished there was something more he could do to help.

“I’ll make sure that McGriffiths and Gudgeon won’t be patrolling together, then,” he said briskly. “But now, you go lay down on that couch; everything is under control here.” He basically pushed Lily up from her chair and off to the couch before she could even protest much. Producing a blanket with a wave of his wand, he waited until Lily had settled down and draped it over her.

“Thanks, James,” she muttered from under the blanket. James’ heart skipped a beat when she mentioned his first name.

“Any time,” he nearly stuttered, before returning back to his desk.

James quickly finished up the patrol schedule and organized the rest of the detention slips before standing up and approaching Lily again.

“I’m going to get something to eat from the kitchens. Do you need anything?”

Lily seemed slightly taken aback by his question. “I don’t…” She winced again. “Actually… some hot tea and maybe some fruit would be nice… And…” she hesitated for one moment, “if it isn’t too much to ask… Madam Pomfrey has a potion for the cramps so if you’re able to stop by the Hospital Wing…”

“Of course I can!” James exclaimed instantly. ”You could have asked earlier instead of just squirming around!”

”Sorry that I had other things in my mind!” Lily said, annoyed. “It’s not always this bad… I don’t understand what’s with it this month…”

James softened again, understanding that she wasn’t really annoyed at him but the pain and possibly the hormones made her a bit snappier than usual.

“Okay.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Worry not, I’ll get you your potion. Can’t have my Head Girl suffering while we could be… working hard to make sure we’ll have a very productive Prefects’ meeting in a few hours. You get some rest now.”

“Alright. Thanks. Go get your dinner, Potter,” Lily mumbled, pulling the blanket higher up her body.

…

It took James less than 30 minutes to gather all the things he had planned to gather. His first stop was in the kitchens and when he explained his situation to the elves (mentioning that someone who’s important to him is not feeling well so he wanted to surprise her with a meal), he got an entire basket of food from them. It had some tea, pumpkin juice, fruits and sandwiches in it but the elves had also snuck in a chocolate bar, a piece of cake and Lily’s favorite pie. James left the kitchens thanking the elves over and over again and promising to do something for them in return.

Madam Pomfrey was happily surprised when James asked her if she could put some potion for cramps into the vial he had brought with him. His face heated up when she asked him if the potion was for his girlfriend.

“N-no! Not a girlfriend! She’s just a… friend. Who happens to be a girl, yes. I just offered to get her the potion because I was on my way to pick something from the ki…” he remembered he wasn’t really supposed to know how to get into the kitchens, “um, the Great Hall anyway.”

“Oh, alright,” Madam Pomfrey nodded. “Well, regardless, I think you’re doing a nice thing for her.”

She handed him the potion and also a hot water bottle and he left, feeling rather warm and hoping he could go out for a fly to organize his thoughts but remembering that he still needed to complete his task.

Before he managed to return to the Head’s Office, however, Sirius’ voice spoke via a tiny mirror hidden in his pocket:

“Prongs! Where are you?”

He put the basket he was carrying down, fishing the mirror from his pocket, and soon he was staring at his best friend’s face in it.

“I was in the kitchens… and the hospital wing. Why do you ask?”

“Why were you in the hospital wing?” Sirius kept pressing, ignoring his question. “Did a bludger hit you again or something?”

James wasn’t about to reveal what he had really been doing there because he knew Sirius would tease him mercilessly. He said vaguely: “Something like that, yeah”.

“I didn’t know you had a Quidditch practice today.” Sirius raised his eyebrow. “Actually, I saw McKinnon a little while ago and she didn’t look like she had been flying recently.”

“How do you know that?” James questioned.

“Because she was quite busy snogging D… Never mind that. This isn’t about her, this is about you. You weren’t actually hit by a bludger, were you?”

“Why are you such a scent hound today?” James countered.

“Because you’re acting weird and as your best friend it’s my duty to find out why,” Sirius stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Anyway, I just wanted to ask you if the map is in the dormitory? Pete thinks Mulciber and his lovely gang are up to something again and Regulus might also be involved somehow… I wanted to check if there’s any truth to that statement.”

“Yeah, it’s there in my bag…” James replied, feeling weirdly uninterested in Mulciber’s plans, his thoughts still in the girl in the Head’s Office.

“Alright, thanks.” James could see Sirius starting to walk towards the boys’ dorm. “Hey, Prongs?” A smirk spread on his face, making James feel rather suspicious.

“Yeah?”

“You were actually with Evans, weren’t you?”

James rolled his eyes. “What if I was? Of course I have to spend time with her because we are the Head Students. I’m working with her.”

“I bet you guys were working real hard, alright,” Sirius snorted.

“I’m pretending I didn’t hear that,” James remarked. “Besides, I wasn’t lying about the kitchens and the hospital wing. Here’s the proof.” He showed the basket he had gotten from the elves to Sirius’ mirror image.

“Oooh, now I get it. You were getting some food for a romantic date… and probably some contraceptive potion from Poppy…” Sirius’ grin only widened.

James’ face felt so hot he imagined he would have been able to cook eggs on it. “Get your mind out of your gutter, Padfoot. If you really must know, she wasn’t feeling too well while we were finishing some of our paperwork so I volunteered to help the girl out and get her some potion for the pain. That’s all.” He was happy he didn’t have to lie about that part.

“Alright, lover boy,” Sirius lifted his free hand in the air as a peace sign. “Well, you go continue your meeting with Evans, I have some Slytherin stalking to do.”

“Right. See ya.”

James put the mirror away and ran his hand through his hair. He could only hope that he wasn’t as obvious with his feelings as Sirius made it sound. Lily and he had only been friends for a couple of months and he most definitely didn’t want to ruin it by revealing that by the way, those feelings he had had during their 5th year had not gone anywhere; as a matter of fact they had only gotten stronger and more genuine as he had learned to know her better. James from the past few months had learned that there was much more to the mystery that was Lily Evans than he had ever realized, but that only made him more intrigued.

He couldn’t remain in his thoughts for long, though, because the girl in question was still waiting for the potion. Using some of the little known passages he and his friends had discovered during their nightly expeditions he made it back to the Head’s Office much faster than he would want to admit aloud.

When James entered the office, he found Lily up and trying to write a report for Dumbledore. She got some color on her cheeks when she realized he had caught her disobeying his orders to rest.

James folded his arms after he placed the basket on the desk. Before Lily had time to defend herself, he said: “Looks like someone is as bad at following orders as I am.” 

“Yeah. Sorry.” She attempted to give him an innocent smile. James wanted to stay annoyed with her a little longer, but he couldn’t.

“Lily, sometimes it’s OK to let other people help you. There’s two of us for a reason. So that one can step in if needed. You’d probably do the same for me, right? ‘Cause we’re a team.”

“Right. Yeah, I probably would,” she admitted.

“Well, now that that’s been clarified, I brought you some things.”

He emptied the desk from the parchment, throwing them into a drawer before handing Lily the potion. She didn’t chuck it down instantly, though.

“You’ve been so nice to me today. I have to be honest… I imagined you would be one of those guys who get squeamish at the simple mention of periods.”

James frowned. “Why would I be like that? There are girls in our Quidditch team; they always let me know when they’re not feeling like flying. Besides, we Quidditch players are pretty familiar with pain and blood for a variety of reasons, so…” he shrugged.

“Right,” Lily replied and drank her potion with a grimace. It seemed to have an effect pretty fast; the relief on her face was visible within moments.

“That’s better,” she sighed. “So, do you have food for us?”

“I do,” James grinned in response and started spreading the contents of the best onto the desk. Lily’s mouth opened when she figured he had brought her a full on picnic. Fruits, sandwiches, treacle tart, chocolate, ham pie…

“James…” Lily looked at him with wide eyes. “This is too much…”

“Nah. I don’t think so. You’re always prioritizing other people’s needs. I think it’s time you get something nice done in return. Besides… I’m not planning to let you eat all of this on your own,” he winked, grabbing a sandwich from a plate and stuffing it into his mouth with great gusto. 

Lily threw him an odd look he didn’t quite know how to interpret. Then she took a chocolate bar from the desk and made a contented little sigh as she took a bite from it. 

“We gotta make sure there will be a Hogsmeade weekend soon… My Honeydukes chocolate stock is stupidly empty.”

“Oh Evans,” James clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “If you ever need chocolate, just say the word and it’s yours.”

“What? But… we can’t just march to Hogsmeade whenever…?”

“Trust me, we Marauders have our ways.”

“Right. Of course you do,” she snorted. “More seriously speaking, though - and don’t make any Sirius jokes now…” (James put a hand on his chest in mock offense.) “Thanks, James. I’m lucky to have a co-Head like you.”

James smiled softly at her. “I could say the same to you.”

Just like that, the atmosphere in the room changed. For a moment James and Lily just kept staring at each other, not quite sure how to progress from there. James’ eyes traitorously flickered towards Lily’s lips, and when she instinctively moved a little closer, her hand reaching his, he found himself mimicking her movements. But just when their fingers intertwined, his eyes asking her a silent question, a Prefect from Hufflepuff popped in to ask something about their upcoming meeting. The moment between James and Lily was broken, but he still squeezed her hand once more.

“Are you feeling better now?”

Lily smiled at him, her face adorably flushed. “Yes. Much better.”

A/N: Please let me know what you think!! (Ps. yes, I guess I'm a bit mean, not letting them kiss, ahah)

[nokomiss]

for a prompt, would you be interested in writing jaysteph established relationship on a mission in a college/uni setting? love your writing! ♥️

“This is so dumb,” Jason said. “Steph, my darling, my cupcake, just let me burn this place down and then I’ll take you out for dinner.”

“Absolutely not,” Steph said. “Some problems can’t be fixed with arson, and this is one of them.”

“I’m pretty sure arson would fix it,” Jason said. “Or at least improve it enough that we don’t need to be involved.”

They both took a few moments to stare at the problem in question. Bludhaven Community College’s library was somehow worse than the rest of the campus. Dick had asked them to take over a case he didn’t have time for.. He had called the place a possible money laundering front; it was now obvious that it was also an illegal gambling den. They’d narrowed down the possible physical location to the library.

They had been here undercover for two entire days. Jason had taken on the humanities department, believing firmly it had been a front (“They don’t even offer a Shakespeare class. This place is a travesty. A mockery of education.”) but had come up empty handed. Steph had centered her sights on the dining hall – well, more cafe, as there were no dorms, but it served breakfast and lunch, and Steph firmly believed them to be evil for charging ten bucks for a grilled cheese. Unfortunately price gouging appeared to be their only crime. That, and the lack of seasoning.

Steph had noticed the library early on the second day. It was a small, shabby building on the left side of campus, identifiable as a library only by the small sign outside, and what had drawn her attention was the lack of foot traffic heading that way.  At the very least people should have scoped it out as a prime napping location – she had taken some incredible naps in the Gotham U library – but no one seemed interested.

So they’d infiltrated it. Meaning they hadn’t even been asked to flash their (fake) student IDs at the door, just wandered inside. Once inside, they were surprised at the lack of, well, anything in the library, even given that it was Bludhaven. No books, no  media, just some empty shelves with a few sad newspapers spread out on them, a few tables with some computer monitors on them – all powered off, Steph wasn’t even sure if they were connected to anything –  and a couple of sad uncomfortable chairs that had clearly come from a waiting room somewhere. They’d been ready to give up when they’d found the stairs claiming to lead down to the main stacks.  

There were no main stacks. Instead they’d found a locked door, which Jason picked the lock on easily enough, only to lead the way down to a room filled with clearly-rigged slot machines. It was currently empty, thankfully.

“You know, we really do run into shockingly few gambling dens in Gotham,” Steph said thoughtfully. “Wonder what’s up with that.”

“No one wants to use their luck up on winning a few bucks,” Jason offered. “Probably think they’d rather use their luck to avoid getting caught up in supervillain nonsense. Plus, you know, Two Face.”

“That would be like a homing beacon for him, wouldn’t it?” Steph said. Then she remembered that they were not actually wearing their costumes, since they’d gone to the trouble of pretending to be students at Bludhaven Community College, and that there were probably multiple cameras down here to safeguard the machines. “Hey, wanna  make out?”

“Always, but is now really the time?” Jason said. Steph suspected he was still a little annoyed that she had shot down the whole ‘burn the library down’ plan.  She was honestly shocked that he would even suggest that, in case the books that ought to be present were hidden away somewhere, but probably Jason wanted to burn the library down as revenge for the removal of the books.

She rolled her eyes. “Babe. We’re on camera. Coming down here to make out is the normal reason to break into a secret casino.”

She’d spotted and recognized the camera models; they didn’t record sound, so their conversation was private. Their presence, though, would clearly be noticed. 

“Oh. Yeah, okay.” Jason smiled at her. A devastating smile, one that she never quite got used to being directed at her, even though they’d been together for a few months. But also one meant to distract her from the fact that she had been a step ahead of him for once, and she absolutely was going to bring it up later.

For now, though, she grabbed a handful of his ass and pulled him closer to her. “Plus, I wanted to. I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Maybe an exaggeration, but one that made Jason lean down to press a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. “I still can’t believe it took me two weeks to get back from that Outsiders mission.”

Steph hummed a vague answer and hooked her other hand on his neck, tangling her fingers into his hair. It always surprised her, how soft it was. “Gonna make up for lost time.”

Then she caught his mouth with her own. The kiss started off gentle and sweet – nothing at all like the bruising first one they’d shared, both wild-eyed and a little bloody after a brawl with a half-dozen bikers, that had sparked their relationship. Steph sighed into Jason’s mouth and let the softness of his embrace relax her, feeling tension she hadn’t realized she was holding in her shoulders fade away.

The kiss continued, soft and slow, until Steph remembered she still had a handful of Jason’s ass, and squeezed it. She could feel his smile against her mouth, then he stepped in closer and closer, crowding her back until they were pressed up against one of the slot machines.  

Jason licked at her mouth, and Steph obligingly opened her mouth, deepening the kiss. She ran her tongue along his, and loved the tiny sounds he made in response.  Her hand traveled up his back under his shirt, and she traced little shapes along his back.

If she traced a heart and their initials together along his spine, he didn’t say anything. But the way he was kissing her showed his approval.  

Jason kissed along her jaw to mouth at the spot on her neck that never failed to make her weak-kneed. She put more of her weight against the slot machine, tilting her head to give him easier access.  

If only all missions were this fun. 

Jason’s mouth worked at her throat, and she let out a breathy sound that was honestly embarrassing but made Jason intensify things. He lifted her up, propping her between the slot machine and his body, her legs encircling his hips to hold on tighter.This angle was better;  Jason didn’t have to lean down as far, and she could grind her hips against his. She’d missed this, missed him so much.  Steph gave a little nibble to his earlobe, just to hear his breath catch.

But when Jason’s hand dipped under her waistband, she stopped him. 

“Cameras,” she whispered. Steph was having a good time, but she didn’t want to give the criminals that much of a show.  

“Oh, right,” Jason said, his embarrassed tone clearly giving away that he had forgotten they were there.  Steph felt a surge of something like pride that she’d distracted him so thoroughly.  

He nuzzled her neck one final time, planting a tiny kiss on her earlobe, then pulled away. “Explore a little before we go?”

It was fun, moving through the rows of gambling machines while peering around trying to notice clues while trying to look like college kids just exploring. Steph jabbed at Jason’s side in his ticklish spot to make him let out a giggle, and he retaliated by tugging at her ponytail.

She wondered if this is what they would have been like, if they’d met outside of the cape, if they’d led different lives.

It should have been a bitter thought, but instead Steph found it comforting, that they’d ended up here anyway.

In the back corner was another door. Steph figured it could either lead to a way out of the gambling den – only an idiot would set up somewhere illegal without a back exit in case of cops – or maybe an office.  

Either way, it was clearly a space they’d need to investigate while wearing their costumes, because making out in the casino was one thing, but breaking into the office with their faces just out there was another. 

“We done here?” 

Jason nodded, though Steph didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on her mouth for just a second too long. 

“How about you buy me that dinner you were talking about earlier, then we come back here and bust some heads?”

“Sounds like a date.”

*

Eight hours later, they stood in front of the burning library of Bludhaven Community College.

“I can’t believe you actually burned it down,” Jason said admiringly. “Only thing better would have been if I’d gotten to use the grenade launcher.”

Steph didn’t love his use of the word the, and wondered where he could possibly have a grenade launcher stashed. “Well, babe, it was a total accident, but a serendipitous one.”

How was she supposed to have known that she’d knocked a lit Zippo lighter out of the wannabe-mob boss’s hand right into a crate of illegal fireworks? The backroom of the illegal gambling den had been a frankly embarrassing hodgepodge of illegal goods that spoke of poor planning and lack of vision.  

She didn’t entirely hate the outcome, though. They’d already snagged a bunch of paperwork to use as evidence, and the slot machines would still be recognizable after the fire had been extinguished, so there was no chance of the guy getting off because the evidence had burned.

And the community college could use the insurance payoff to build a better library. One that perhaps contained books and/or media for the students to use. She’d put in a word with Dick, there were definitely funds floating around somewhere to improve things here.

And she’d gotten to see Jason downright giddy as the wannabe-mob boss had cried while watching his ill-gotten gains go up in flames, gone forever instead of sent to Bludhaven’s police evidence locker to be stolen and sent back out on the streets.

Definitely a win-win.

“We should go undercover together more often,” Jason said. “This was great. I got to argue with a professor about Mary Shelley, make out with you, take down a case Dick didn’t solve, and got a bonfire to boot.”

Steph high fived him. “Dream team.”

“Hell yeah.”

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Being the group's bodyguard and being in love with Rose would involve...

Rose Weil x reader

This is probably going to interest absolutely no one, but I have been wanting to write it for years!

*****

🌹 You have always been a very active person, a lover of physical exercise. You have started to do combat sports when you were still a little girl: boxing, kick-boxing, jiu-jitsu, karate, muay thai, you have tried them all, becoming in the end a formidable fighter.

🌹 Your career as a professional fighter starts when you are still a little girl, and for years you are one of the most respected fighters in the country, winning many prizes and living your best life... until an head injury, received during the final of an important championship, puts an end to your fighting career.

🌹 The next few years are the saddest and most purposeless of your life; fighting was your life, the only profession you could ever practice, and you know you could never be happy as a shop assistant, a teacher or a lawyer. You have no education, since you left school as soon as you legally could to focus on your fighting career, you are too old to go back studying anyway, and while you still have some money put aside to support yourself, you know that sooner or later you will have to find something to do, instead of spending whole weeks watching sports on TV and crying over your sad destiny, but what? There is absolutely nothing that interests you, nothing you could give your blood for and that makes adrenaline run in your veins as stepping in the ring, or on the tatami, did...

🌹 The person who unexpectedly comes to free you from that torpor of melanchony and regret is Debbie Ocean, a former school friend you had lost contact with decades ago but whose family's reputation, and penchant for mischief, you still remember. A couple times in school you had intervened to defend her from some older students who had accused her of selling them fake test answer sheets (she had.). She remembered you, and had heard of your head injury and consequent fall into disgrace; and now she has come to recruit you for her heist as a... security specialist.  

🌹 "Listen, Debbie, I appreciate the offer but I am not going to kill or hurt anyone for you. I am... was... an athlete, not an hitman." "I am not asking you to hurt anyone; we are not even going to use guns"." she reassures you; she told you she just came out of prison, which is the least surprising thing ever "But we need someone to take care of the group's security in case someone tries to hurt us. You are a one woman army, (name); who could be better than you for the job? You will be paid, of course, and very well."

🌹 The offer is... interesting, you must admit, given the generous remuneration you are promised, which obviously would come in handy, as well as because, well, how often does a former school mate comes to enlist you in a band of jewelry thieves? You have always been a law-abiding person, but in the end Debbie does not plan on stealing from people who actually need the money, and this is the first thing that attracts your attention ever since the injury, diverting it from the sad, lonely routine your life has become.

🌹 If you are successful, you reason, you won't have to worry about money or search for a job ever again, which would be nice; and if you are not successful, and you and the rest of Debbie's band are arrested, at least you won't have to worry what you will do for the rest of your life, or at least where you will spend it...

🌹 “Ok. I’m in.”

🌹 Debbie brings the group together, and you are shaking hands with a suburban mom, an hacker and a street hustler, when your eyes fall on a shorter blonde woman... and your heart stops for a bit.

🌹It would be an exaggeration to say you have always been a fashion lover, or even just that you coordinate your outfits every day and follow the latest trends in the magazines, but Rose Weil was a pretty popular designer when you were younger, and it would have been hard not to know who she was. Surprisingly, browsing a fashion magazine you had found in the gym, or absent-mindedly watching a fashion show in TV as you waited for one that interested you, you discovered you actually liked her style: the clothes she designed were original, elegant yet practical, full of vibrant colors and original cuts. You would never feel comfortable with that sort of clothes, being more of a tank-and-shorts kind of woman and because you did not think you had the physique and the posture for it, but you liked what she did.

🌹 And you also liked her, a lot, since the first time you saw the petite blonde woman on TV answering to an interviewer's questions, your heart missed a beat; she was beautiful, and smart and talented, and who knows, maybe one day Rose would create a sportswear line, and then you could actually wear her creations...

🌹 Even though you were ready to bet she was twice as talented as any other designer in the country, Rose's latest collections had been panned by critics, and she had faded into obscurity. You had been strongly disappointed, feeling a sort of kinship with her -after all, had you both not lost what made you successful and fulfilled, either because the public did not understand your vision or you had not been quick enough to avoid a career-ending blow?- but you never thought you would see her in person... and here she is, in front of you, as beautiful as you remembered from the fashion shows you only watched because of her, even though they bore you to death...

🌹 "H-Hi, I am (full name), a former school friend of Debbie. I will take care of you - I mean, I will ensure the security of all of you." you introduce yourself, feeling way more nervous than at your most important matches, and praying she cannot see you are blushing. Rose shakes your hand as she looks you over, and while she had privately thought the group didn't need a bodyguard until a moment ago, she immediately decides she was wrong - or at least, that she is happy Debbie chose you for the job.  

🌹 In the following days you and Rose quickly become friends, and while you can't forget the huge crush you had on her, and that is back in full force now that you have actually met the object of your desires, you learn to appreciate her quirky, clever yet self-conscious personality, the capable designer who has been forced to join a heist because she is in debt with the IRS. You are a pretty odd couple but you get along very well, so much that Debbie and Lou decide to send you with Rose to Cartier to examine the necklace, acting as her assistant and bodyguard.  

🌹 You have never found anything as sexy and enticing as Rose's voice when she speaks French; she mistakes your blushing for envy and offers to teach you. You are initially resentful of Daphne, who Rose has to meet pretending to offer her services for the MET Gala, fearing the younger, sexy and self-assured woman will attract your friend's attention. It doesn't, since Rose has already started developing feelings for you.

🌹 The two of you discuss each other's fall from grace. You are outraged that the fashion world did not recognize her talent, while Rose is sincerely saddened a single blow was enough to end your career, many years before than you expected. You recognize that you are both going through a similar predicament: you have lost what you enjoyed doing and gave a direction to your life, and now you don't know what to do with your time in the future.

🌹 "You could go back designing clothes; once you have paid your debts, you could open a new fashion house, and sooner or later everyone will recognize how talented you are." you propose, and Rose thinks about it for a while before answering that while she cannot see herself working anywhere but in the fashion industry, she would rather re-start with something small, maybe selling her creations through a shop, to get her confidence back and learn from her past mistakes.

🌹 "I envy you; I cannot go back doing what I did, and there is nothing I could do, and be happy with it, but to be a fighter, so I don't really know what I will do with my life..." you sigh, and Rose, sitting next to you, looks at you, hating how dejected you look. "Could you not work in the world of combat sports, just not at a fighter?" she proposes, and you blink. "What?" "Well, as a talented fighter, there must be someone interested in your competence. You could become a trainer, or open a gym that focuses on teaching combat sports. There are also former athletes that become spokespeople, sport commentators, and a lot of other things. You could be anything you want, believe me; you are clearly tenacious and smart enough."

🌹 It is... an interesting idea, one you decide to seriously reflect on, but the thing you appreciate the most is Rose taking an interest in your life and complimenting you. You are enjoying the moment so much that when she timidly speaks again, you completely miss her words. "What? Sorry, did you say something?" "I... I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink, tonight. Wi-with me." Rose repeats; she is stuttering, but takes courage seeing that your expression is that of a woman who has received the best present of her life "There is a little bar not far from here..."

🌹 Obviously you accept, flattered and happy. You and Rose spend a lovely evening sharing a drink at the bar and then taking a walk in the city, talking and having fun together as if you had known each other for decades. You still think she is out of your league -and don't know she is thinking the very same thing about you- but enjoy her company nonetheless. At one point you stop next to a little park to admire the view, a man runs past you... and grabs Rose's bag, snatching it from her. She screams, and you, not even thinking about it, run after the man, that you soon reach and punch violently in the face, forcing him to leave Rose's bag.

🌹 You are breathless -you have trained as a fighter, not a runner, and that guy was fast!- but the grateful smile Rose gives you makes the effort more than worthy; and then she kisses you on the cheek in thanks, and you spend the rest of the night feeling on cloud nine.

🌹 In time, you also confess how much of a fan of her fashion house you have always been, which flatters Rose to no end. “I would have never worn them, though, obviously; your clothes, I mean.” “How so?” “Well... look at me.” you point out, surprised you need to explain it “I don’t exactly have the body tipe for high fashion, do I? A dress by you, no matter how elegant, would be wasted on an person as ungraceful as me. I have always worn sports clothing, jeans and trainers at best; with a dress and heels I would probably look ridiculous.” Rose does not comment, but you can clearly see she disagrees.

🌹 In the end, you and your allies' mission begins; you have to intervene three times to protect Rose and the others from those who would hurt you, and in the end you are 34 million dollars (34 million dollars!) richer; Debbie shakes your hand and thanks you for your help, while you admit you are the one who should be grateful, and you are, because she gave you the first opportunity to feel strong, capable, in control -in a word, alive- in so many years. You are not only talking about the heist and you both know it.

🌹 Still, when it is time for you and Rose to part, everything you would like to say to her, express your feelings, tell her how much you loved meeting her and wish to give your relationship time to evolve, does not come out. You have always been shy in matters of the heart, and telling another person you are interested in them is next to impossible for you, the intensity of those feelings notwithstanding. You strongly suspect that your crush for Rose has become something much more serious and enduring, but you need to tell her, because if you hesitate now, you might never see her again...

🌹 "So... it was great meeting you. Good luck for everything, take care of yourself." These are the last words you say to her, and you regret them as soon as they leave your lips, and Rose, who has been waiting anxiously for you to speak, looks so disappointed tears have filled her eyes. "Yeah... you too." she murmurs, and after an awkward hug, you part, seemingly forever.

🌹 Time passes. You return home and, acting on Rose's suggestion, open a gym to teach combat sports; you buy and refurbish an abandoned building, hire other former athletes you knew and respected from your time as a fighter as trainers, and offer free classes to kids from low-income families or neighborhoods. You soon find out you love it, much more than as a simple diversion to occupy your time with; you learned a lot by your trainers, even when you were already an experienced fighter, and it is a genuine joy to pass your experience and knowledge to younger athletes, to help them achieve their potential or even more importantly to give them a direction in life, a way to channel their energy in a constructive manner, teach them discipline and keep them away from the streets. Your good name as a fighter has not been forgotten and soon the gym attracts a high number of pupils, and so you keep yourself busy, and productive, and happy, for the first time in many years.

🌹You have heard that Rose has started designing clothes again, selling them through a shop she manages personally as she told you was her intention, but six months pass before you have the courage to look for her; your friendship had lasted only for a few weeks, the most insecure part of you keeps whispering in your ear, and while you had really bonded, whatever feelings she might have harboured for you must have been forgotten, maybe -and how it hurts to think that!- in favour of someone else, younger and prettier and more elegant... 

🌹 In the end you decide to try, no matter how embarassing it might be, because otherwise you know you will regret it forever. You wear your best clothes and even put some make up on, buy some flowers and go, determined to ask Rose out for a date. You come into the shop, find her fixing a beautiful dress on a mannequin... and when she sees you, she almost screams. "(name)! It is you!"

🌹She is clearly happy to see you, flattered to receive your flowers and happy to know you have followed her advice to open a gym, but before you can say -stutter, most likely- what you actually came to see her for, she quickly leaves to reach the back of the shop, and comes back a minute later with a large, flat box. "I would have come to see you soon. I am sorry it took me so long, this literally arrived this morning, I had to change the design five times because it never seemed right, didn’t seem you... but I hope you like it."

🌹 She offers you the box, that you open with shaking hands. Neatly folded inside there is a dress, the most beautiful dress you have ever seen, in the style that you had admired the most among Rose's creations, years ago, with coordinated shoes, a jacket and even jewels. It fits you perfectly, and you had no idea how Rose did it since you never told her your size -can she tell just looking at you, since after all she is an experieced designer? Or has she looked at, and cares for, you so much that she has memorized your body shape, as well as what you would look best in and be happiest to wear?- but of one thing you are sure: it is the best present you have ever received, not least because it is her gifting her to you.

🌹 "Thank you, I... I do not know what to say, I cannot wait to put it on..." you say, and Rose smiles, and for a precious, beautiful minute, it is like you are understanding each other, your fears and your hopes and your feelings, without the need to speak them out loud. You take a deep breath and add: "... maybe I could wear it to take you out for dinner, one of these nights?"

🌹Rose beams. "(name), nothing would make me happier."

[zimmerdouche]

Out of all the members of SMH, who do you think you would win in a fight against?

disclaimer: i’m a scrappy one, and all of these are based on the assumption that the member would fistfight me considering i’m 4’11” and relatively feminine, modern attitudes be damned. this one’s been in my inbox for literal years, so (ryan bergara voice) let’s get into it.

b. shitty knight: if he still had his flow and had it pulled back, i could theoretically yank on the ponytail and get him prone and win by pure virtue of simply sitting on his chest. if he stays upright, he’d get me good.

jack zimmermann: i would not win, not only bc he’s a literal nhl player and can beat me simply by being in shape, but i WOULD get distracted by his eyes. i am only human.

adam birkholtz and justin oluransi: do you truly think either of them would get into a fight without the other? 2 vs 1, i’m absolutely fucked. even if it was just one, they are Big and i am Small.

larissa duan: lardo would absolutely obliterate me. i did not want to even consider getting into a fight with her, it is a terrifying idea.

eric bittle: we’re getting somewhere? i’m from the bible belt as well, i could wear him down with southern insults. once it got physical, it’d be a bit harder, esp if we’re considering this senior year bitty. i’d consider this an ugly but well balanced fight. bitty would ultimate prevail, however.

william poindexter: would eat me alive.

derek nurse: would ALSO eat me alive.

christopher chow: first, why would i want to? his goalie face would make me piss my pants and he’s got nearly a foot on me besides. i would not win.

connor whisk: would slice my throat with a side eye.

anthony tangredi: plays mind games. i am weak in that aspect.

denice ford: realistically, the one i may actually win, based on height differential, the fact that we were both stage managers, and that we handle rowdy college students. if i had to pick someone to fight, it would be foxtrot, but i don’t want to, because more than likely we’d be good friends.

river bullard: he’d destroy me, why would you think anything else. in theory i could use my ponytail technique but bully would be a lot harder to tip than shitty.

jonathan hopper: see chowder. plus, i’d have to face his mom after that, and if i’m fresh out of a fight she’d take me out on principle.

lukas landmann: a being of pure chaos. i am powerless against him.

in short: don’t bet on me, i ain’t shit.

[kkelenca]

This is very much an anti-"Vote blue no matter who!" moment. Call your representatives. Tell them you will *not* be voting for them if they don't vote on this bill. Say you won't vote for Biden. NOT VOTING is also a tool in the box of electoralism - if the democrats face no pressure from the left to not do evil genocide then, then they will keep doing evil genocide shit.

Call and absolutely say all of that, and make clear demands for what they should be doing. I’ve been calling almost every single evening.

Recognize there ARE people like Tlaib, Omar, Ocasiao-Cortez, Bush, Bowman, Ramirez, Lee, Green, Carson, Jayapal, etc. running for these offices, House and Senate alike. Find the ones near you and support them if you’re dead set against voting for these current faces. Fight like hell to have them win.

Campaign for Dean Phillips if you’re dead set against Biden—I fully plan to vote for him in the primary myself if the field stays as-is. He’s currently saying he supports Israel’s right to self defense, but also saying he believes Palestinians should have self-determination and specifically wanting to help create a Palestinian state is a hell of a lot easier to push toward their desired unified, single, apartheid-free state than whatever secretive, genocide-abetting garbage we’re dealing with right now.

Put your time and money where your mouth is. I’m still recovering from my third spinal surgery and have physical therapy looming again once I’m no longer on narcotics and able to drive myself to bi-weekly appointments, but I already make donations to my candidate of choice for my representative on top of my 2 state-level people, and I actually reached out and we’ve spoken directly before.

I will personally always vote against the hungriest fascist I’m faced with. That’s the whole point of “lesser of two evils” in the first place. Yeah, sometimes they both suck ass, but there are still levels of awful.

You think a Republican would have any qualms about aiding Israel? We’d already be actively attacking the Palestinian people—sorry, would have “declared war on Hamas”—and would have sent way more supplies and soldiers than we already have on top of whipping the Evangelical christofascist base into a frenzy the likes of which we haven’t seen since the Republicans took the chance to do exactly that with impunity in 2001. But this time we’d be faced with someone ready and willing to engage in a violent coup here pulling those strings.

Only 4 Republicans were willing to not censure Tlaib just for being honest—the measure ostensibly citing antisemitism over use of “from the river to the sea” because some of the most powerful major Jewish organizations in the US are Zionist and have had the public and government’s ear on the situation for decades. Meanwhile, 191 Democrats voted against the measure. There’s an awfully big chasm between those two numbers. And it’s happened repeatedly, without widespread pushback, anytime criticism of Israel has come from a (progressive, Democrat) member of the house.

The vote for cutting IRS funding to give to Israel? 12 Democrats voted for it. 2 Republicans against it.

11 Republican members sponsored a bill to expel all Palestinians in the US. Landsman (OH) is a pro-Israel Democrat, was even one of the 22 who voted to censure Tlaib, yet he’s drafting his own bill against Zinke, the leader on the expulsion bill.

Breaking tonight, the Republicans have now proposed a bill to revoke scholarship money from college students speaking in defense or favor for Palestine.

That pressure from the left? That pressure is voting for progressive voices, donating and campaigning for them. That pressure is voicing your own opinions to those representing you, regularly.

Not voting at all? Considering that your way to send a message? All you’ve done is take your hand off the wheel and let all the pressure from the right take over the whole car.

[amor-immortalem]

Razor Blades and Rubber Bands ch.1

Content warning just to be safe: self-harm (cutting) and a pretty vicious one-sided fight between siblings.

It’s just a typical weekend afternoon in the House of Lamentation. Having lost a card game with his sister, Aurelius is left working on both his and Azalea’s chores. He’s just finished up with the laundry and was in the process of putting all the clothes away.

“I swear, I’m never playing another round of poker with her ever again,” the 19-year-old grumbles to himself as he sets the heavy laundry basket on her bed- an obvious lie. She always managed to twist his arm into playing every time with the temptation that he might just win this time if he took the gamble.

“Her schedule sure is packed though,” he says as he looks up at the giant calendar plastered on the wall facing her bed. “No wonder that nerd has no social life… all these tutoring sessions at school- I hope she’s at least getting paid for them.”

As he turns to leave, Aurelius spots an unusual box sitting on her nightstand. It’s not very big but it does look like it might hold something valuable hidden in it. It activates his sin- urging him to know what kind of treasure his twin was hiding and take it for himsef- knowing her, it was probably just some junk that one of her magpies had brought to her like a shiny rock or something lame like that.

“Just a tiny peek won’t hurt anything, right? Just to gauge it’s worth?” The teen flips the top of the box open and is disappointed to find only rusty razor blades and loose rubber bands hidden inside. “That sucks. There’s only junk in here… why’s she even keeping stuff like this? The rubber bands I get but razor blades? What gives?”

Aurelius wracks his brain for any reason Azalea might keep these rusty old things when the faint smell of her blood invades his senses. He picks one of the old blades and inspects it closer.

“Oh… Oh no…” he’s torn at what to do when he comes to the realization that she’s been cutting herself. Should he tell his parents? Of course he should- logically that’s the only right answer- but then it would become this whole big ordeal. Not to mention her trust in him would be shattered and she’d be absolutely pissed that he went snooping around her room.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thinks, the half-demon sets the box back exactly where he’d found it. Perhaps he can reason with her privately and this wouldn’t have to get back to their parents- have one of those good ol’ sibling heart-to-hearts that media likes to portray fixing everything.

・・・〆・・・

Just a few more minutes, Azalea thinks to herself. Just a few more minutes and I’ll be able to blow this pop stand and get back to my room.

The afternoon had proven to be more stressful than the 19-year old had thought. She’d been holed up in RAD’s library tutoring some classmates that were performing less than favorably on their tests in arithmetic and as the class’s top student, the white-and-black haired girl took it upon herself to help these losers raise their grades so it wouldn’t give their class a bad rap.

She looks at the clock and has never been more thankful for 3 o’clock to get here.

“Alright, that about does it for today. Don’t forget about the test in physics next Thursday- y’all better pass or your asses are grass. Got it?” She says while snapping a rubber band against her wrist.

The trio of students nod quickly as they pack up their belongs while Azalea books it for the exit.

・・・〆・・・

The walk home went well enough with no one stopping her on the street for anything. She had just a few more steps and then she’d be back to her room. Just a few more steps until…

“Zalea. We need to talk.”

Damnit!

“Not now, Aurelius, I’m busy. Don’t you got more chores to do or somethin’?”

“You don’t look very busy and no, I finished the whole list of things you gave me to do plus my own chores on top of it. Now like I said, we need to talk.”

“Fiiiiine,” the older half-demon groans, “what do ya want?”

“Well, I found this,” he preforms a simple summoning and suddenly the small box from her nightstand is sitting in his palm.

“Okay and…?” His sister looks unamused. “It’s just a box- a box that belongs to me, might I add. Give it back.”

“It’s what’s in the box, dumbass. The razor blades more specifically.”

“My birds brought ‘em to me cuz they were shiny and pretty at the time. Don’t your ravens do the same for you?”

“No, they don’t” Aurelius frowns. “and I’m having a hard time believing that you’re just collecting them for no reason- not when they reek of your blood. You’re using these to cut yourself somewhere aren’t you?”

“Wha- you- that’s insane for you to think I’m hurting myself.” She knows she’s been caught. Now, how does she lie herself out of this and get her beloved razor blades back?

“Well aren’t you?” There’s an expectant look on his face- like he’s expecting her to just come out and say it, “Just admit it because you can’t lie your way out of this one, Azalea.”

“Give me my box back, Aurelius! Why were you even going through my stuff anyway!?” Azalea makes a grab for the box but her brother, being just a couple inches taller than her, is holding it just out of her reach.

“No! I’m not letting you hurt yourself anymore!” With some quick thinking, the 19-year-old mutters a spell and the box disappears into a pocket dimension that he keeps his most treasured items in.

“You asshole, where’d you even send them?!”

“Nowhere you can get to them,” Aurelius smirks before he’s throwing his arms up to block a punch from his twin.

And Azalea doesn’t stop at one punch. She’s angry, she needed those razor blades. They were her favorites. She has to have them and she has to have them now.

“Give. Them. Back!” Each word is accentuated by a punch or a kick- practically rag-dolling her brother around as she continues the beat down until he’s bloodied and bruised.

At the rate she’s going, she’ll ruin his modeling career but she can’t bring herself to care. He took something from her, so she’ll take the most important thing in his life from him.

The minute he strikes back to defend himself, she grabs his wrist and hurls him across the House of Lamentation’s entrance hall where he smashes into one of the stone gargoyles that face each other. It breaks apart at the head and Aurelius is left gasping for breath as Azalea steps on his face, grinding the entirety of the right half into the sharp stone debris and drags it back and forth to make sure the rubble would leave scars. If he survived this, she would make sure he remembered just why he shouldn’t mess with her stuff.

She’s only stopped when Zulima, having just walked in on this nightmare scenario, uses her entire body to separate the two of them. Melissa and Solaris, who had also just come through the door with their older cousin immediately do their best to heard Azalea away into the common room as they beg her to calm down while Zulima is busy tending to Aurelius who currently is unresponsive.

Instead of going with Melissa and Solaris, Azalea just storms off to her room, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it.

The three younger half-demons all stare at each other with worry in their eyes before Zulima orders one of them to call for emergency services and the other to get a hold of their aunt and uncle.

・・・〆・・・

Azalea needs to calm down. She knows this. Her reaction was over the top but all she could see at the time was red. She snaps the rubber band around her wrist until it breaks in a feeble attempt at grounding herself but it didn’t work.

She needs to cut. Only the pain can bring her back to her senses right now. It’s a good thing she has back up razor blades hidden in key spots around her room.

The white-and-black-haired girl throws open one of her desk drawers, fumbling around in it until she finds what she’s looking for. Quickly tying up her shirt, she presses the tiny blade to the skin of her left side.

No, she thinks to herself just before she can draw blood, that would be the wrong move. Everyone’s downstairs right now- they’ll find out for sure once they smell the blood.

But what’s the right move? Where can she go?

“I have to get out of here. I can’t stay here after what I did.” She grabs as many outfits that she stuff into a duffle bag. As she’s packing and trying to figure out where she should go. She’s reminded of something her father had said a couple months back.

‘I think you’d make it up there just fine.’

That’s it! The human world! That’s where she’ll go. She can disappear up there and no one will ever find her.

There’s a witch she’s heard of living far out in the wilderness of the Devildom- someone who can travel freely between the realms. Azalea doesn’t care just what it costs her, but she has to get out of the Devildom as quick as possible.

・・・〆・・・

Hours later, after everything was all said and done, Aurelius is resting peacefully in the hospital. He’d suffered countless injuries from his sister’s attack- the most worrying of them being the fractures to his skull, the three crushed ribs, and the collapsed lung.

Mammon and Arella are in complete shock. While they were known to pick on each other from time to time, Azalea and Aurelius had never once fought on a scale quite like this before.

“Why would she do this?” The human frowns as she paces around the room, “I thought- no, Azalea was getting better. She hasn’t attacked anyone in months- not even when she was attacked first. For her to be so brutal-“

“He took something from her-” Mammon’s voice is quiet. “Something that holds so much value to her that she’d even kill to get it back.”

That was the one rule in their house that Mammon was overly-strict about. They were to never steal anything from each other. Especially not if the item in question held value to its owner.

“Think about it, Hon. All of our children are overly possessive about the things that belong to them. Azalea may not satisfy her sin through material objects like the boys do but what’s hers is hers and taking it would mean the paying the ultimate price. Until whatever that item is gets returned, Aurelius won’t be safe in the dorm. She’ll keep going after him until she has it back.”

“Then we’ll return it.” Her voice sounds anxious as she grips the rail of the hospital bed. “When Aurelius wakes up, we’ll find out what he took and return it for him. Then the problem will resolve itself.”

Mammon nods but doesn’t say anything in return, his mouth still drawn in a thin line. It crosses his mind that perhaps the item in question was part of a larger issue.

Ever since that time he’d forced his daughter to babysit her youngest brother, he’d had his suspicions that she’d been harming herself somehow. Perhaps Aurelius had taken whatever she was using to hurt herself, disposed of it, and threatened to tell their parents. That would explain the severity of the attack- why she damn-near mauled him to death over it.

“You stay with Aurelius for now, Arella. I’m gonna track down Azalea. I got something I wanna ask her about that’s separate from this whole incident anyway.”

He walks out of the room without waiting for the human’s reply.

・・・〆・・・

It’s already nightfall by time Azalea reaches where the witch’s hut should be. She looks around, but she doesn’t see anything- the cloud cover obscuring the moonlight doesn’t help matters much either.

“Did I go the wrong way?” The teen mumbles to herself as the ground starts quaking beneath her feet. Something big was coming. “The fuck is-!”

Out of the corner of her eye, she see it. A small cottage set atop of two very large chicken legs is booking it through the forest and she’s right in its path.

For a minute, the half-demon freezes- too surprised that this witch could even live in a house that was constantly moving like that in the first place. It isn’t until her brain processes that she’s about to be crushed that she actually does something about it and takes off running.

Scaling to the top of a couple trees before they’re uprooted, Azalea is able to launch herself up onto what looks like the front porch, landing with a loud “oof.”

The cottage screeches to a halt, nearly throwing her off if she hadn’t grabbed the door handle at the last possible second. Once she’s sure everything has come to a stop, the tanned female lets out the biggest relieved sigh as she slumps to the ground. She has only a moment’s rest before the door is being swung open.

“Who dares disturb the my foraging?!” A young woman’s voice booms as her crystal colored eyes scan the porch.

Azalea can only stare up at her, tongue-tied. She was expecting someone decrepit, not this girl who looked to be maybe just a tad older than herself.

“D-down here.” He cheeks flush from embarrassment at how small her voice sounds.

Crystal-blue-hued eyes drift downward until they land on the cambion’s disheveled form and the witch lets a wolfish grin cross her face that makes the 19-year-old’s heart flutter.

“You’ve got some type of nerve to interrupt my harvesting, little demon… I like it. Come inside.”

She extends her hand to the girl and Azalea takes it.

・・・〆・・・

To be continued

A/N: before anyone asks, yes, the witch’s hut was meant to be a reference to the Baba Yaga’s hut. The imagery of a hut on chicken legs just kills me especially if I imagine it hauling ass through the forest.

[beanmaster-pika]

psst. can i ask for some trivia about your ocs they sound interesting

Absolutely you can thank you so much for asking!!! Here we go!!!!!!!

1) Working title “My roommate the demon lord”

Okay so the MC was raised in a strict household and she was always studying as a kid, when she grew up and got her degree she became an office worker and moved out as fast as she could. UNFORTUNATELY due to a mix of never being taught and being So Fucking Tired she’s terrible at housework and now she’s just some lady in her mid-twenties with no friends that aren’t work colleagues. So she’s eating takeout in her apartment one night, spots a cockroach (as you do when your living space is a mess), tries to ignore it but then it flies right at her and she’s scrambling around trying to avoid it and spilling sauce all over her floor and then it’s hurtling straight at her face and she lets out a bloodcurdling scream and BOOM. Something (someone?) squishes it in their hand. She passes out but after she wakes back up it turns out the sauce spilled in a summoning circle and her scream was a a poorly-pronounced incantation and she’s summoned a demon.

You know how a lot of manga will use Christian-adjacent stuff with like angels and things like that? Yeah. So the demon was once an angel that had been responsible for being a caretaker for the realm’s god’s new creations, and he was supposed to be unfeeling being made of only logic and loyalty while carrying out Her will, but in the process of looking after Her creations he developed emotions. Stuff happens, he becomes a demon, and the angels who are under his jurisdiction fall with him. He feels guilty about it because they only followed him out of their loyalty protocol, and he petitions to God to let them back up. She agrees, and he’s left alone in the subrealm/Hell. And He’s Feeling The Empty Nest. The MC tries to kick him out but he took one look at her living conditions and was like Nope, I’m fixing this first, and so he gets to enjoy living with and taking care of another person again and properly teaches her how to take care of herself. It’s a healing experience for both of them as they become friends and their loneliness dissipates, and they can like. Feel safe enough to settle the things that have happened to them across their lives.

Additional trivia:

-the demon has a demon cat who comes out of the portal as a regular housecat. She is fluffy and they adore her.

-MC still has to speak to her parents once a year or so. Since she’s been out of school for a while her mom is insistent she get married and tries to matchmake her, so there’s a fake dating arc to throw her off. The issue is the MC actually has a crush on one of her colleagues who unfortunately runs into the party while demon roomie is pretending to be her boyfriend and she’s like “oh my gosh you didn’t tell me you were dating someone! :D” and MC goes “*vice grip on demon roomie’s wrist* Kill me”

-at some point God goes to check on Her demon boy, finds out he’s gone, and pays a visit. MC, who’s got mom issues galore, nearly starts a physical altercation and calls Her out for what she considers to be a disproportionately harsh sentence. God agrees, which kinda knocks the wind out of her sails. I haven’t yet figured out how I want the conversation to resolve or even written out the full dialogue.

-MC’s crush is a herbo

2) Villainess isekai

-I’ve actually decided on names for my characters for this one!

-the MC’s “name” is Sabrina. She was a grad student and while collecting samples with some of her undergrads disaster struck and one of them died in the accident

-she’s overcome with guilt about it because they were her responsibility and then she gets hit by Truck-kun while thinking about it

-she tries to put it behind her because the plot waits for no one! The royal family has invited young noblewomen for a stay in the capital to arrange for the first prince to get married. Sabrina’s parents send her in to win, kill the prince after he becomes king, and use her authority as queen regent to free her great-aunt who had been imprisoned for attempting a coup against the warmongering former king. That king had also been killed by his queen before he could escalate aggression with their neighbors into full blown war.

-There’s No Way In Hell she’ll fight her way to her death so she tries to find where her great-aunt is being kept and jailbreak her the old-fashioned way. Then she can leave the palace right?

-and this is a villainess isekai after all so!

—Lady Stella: original protagonist. Sabrina hangs out with her for a bit in the beginning to try to throw off the events of the original novel enough that she has a fighting chance to survive, piquing her interest, and she observes Sabrina for a while throughout the first couple arcs. She concludes that she likes what she sees and earnestly befriends her, and from there it grows into falling in love.

—Sir Vicidia: castle-assigned knight of Stella. Originally a capture target. Protective of her, somewhat hostile to Sabrina. It’s not that she’s done anything, they just don’t get along.

—Sir Borace: I forgot the name is spelled Boris and just went “rhymes with Horace.” Vicidia’s childhood friend; knight assigned to Sabrina (the Sabrina of the novel had a different knight with the power of Bribery). Was killed somewhat early on in the original novel, and so was the lady he protected soon after. He’s a gentle giant and Sabrina’s first true friend in this world. He knits her a shawl and she cries about it :)

—Jay: son of a vassal family to Sabrina’s, but his aunt is her mother so they’re also cousins. Originally a capture target. In the novel Sabrina used him cruelly as an assassin, and Stella’s kindness to him when she met him made him feel happy and safe. This Sabrina doesn’t do such terrible things for obvious reasons but also he’s like 18/19 and reminds her of her undergrads so she lowkey dotes on him because Guilt. After a while he tries to do his job anyway because of Family Guilt (there’s a whole thing with disgrace and regaining their honor as her family’s foremost vassals and he feels a lot of pressure) and he takes a stab wound for her and after she’s sure that he’ll be fine afterwards when he’s been treated she’s like “thank you but do NOT do that again I’m your older cousin which means I’m responsible for your safety not the other way around. Do you understand me.” I’m frustrated with stories like ‘my next life as a villainess’ (Keith I’m so sorry the author did that to you) which i otherwise enjoyed and that’s what spawned Jay. They’re family!!!!!!

-little note but I really wanted to write a protagonist like Cale or Lloyd from Greatest Estate Developer but I feel like I’ve written Sabrina as too earnest 😔

[verysmolspams]

More things about my OC Aurelia!

(So that she makes better sense lol)

May contain spoilers!

Backstory/sad stuff:

TW: some mild family trauma, mentions of separation/divorce

You learn early in the game that your character moved recently, so I decided to make her Unovan

Moved from Unova for her mom’s career

(Also the lack of a father in the game means hers is absent. in this case her dad ran off with another woman so Aurelia and her mom needed a change in life)

Aside her mom being busy with her career she’s had a good relationship with her:

lack of a father did make things tough for a bit

So Aurelia generally has a mistrust in boys (shocker, right?)

A Little insecure about her body image (on top of natural young adult things and being from Unova, where beauty standards are wild sometimes)

She did experience bullying in Unova for not quite fitting in, so it takes time for her to open up if someone approaches her for friendship

Personality:

She is neurodivergent coded: her special interests are particular Pokémon (lucario, Pikachu, dog Pokémon, etc), music, the arts, literature, and likes to doodle when she can

Sensitive emotions are always a thing for her, so she can feel a lot at times

Definitely one of those “I’m quiet at first but when you really get to know me I go nuts” people

If y’all really wanna know, she’s a Cancer in the zodiac (so maybe they call it being a Klawfy? Krabber? Idk crab Pokémon puns)

Very close with her Pokémon. Some of her team doubles as emotional support because her lucario is in touch with her emotions. (The power of aura, baybeee 🌀)

Trust and honesty are huge for her, she’s a bad liar unless it’s a good surprise for someone/something

Quality time and physical touch are her two biggest love languages, but she tries to mix in a few others is she sees that a friend needs help or whatnot

Will Listen in conversation first unless she has special information pertaining to a subject, or is super excited about one of her hyperfixations and “I just need to tell you this cool thing I found” energy

Just wants to be a good friend most of the time, she is prone to loneliness

She’s very sweet, but if you hurt her friends or piss her off, she’s a little scary.

Cue the Unovan accent coming out and using a mix of Unovan/Paldean swears if she finds out someone hurt her friend

Fiesty, she would fistfight the bullies if she could without getting in trouble

And she’d absolutely win, she’s scary when she’s angry.

General UVA shenanigans/storyline

She is able to nurture a love for her new Pokémon once she becomes a UVA student

Does overwhelm emotionally easily, she’s an extraverted introvert and highly loyal to her friends, which meant choosing her first path was hard because she didn’t want to let anyone down

The first path she completes is the champion one because she wants to get stronger with her Pokémon, for the purpose of being able to better protect herself and her loved ones 🥹

After the third titan she realized she caught feelings for Arven

She becomes a giggly, bashful mess when he compliments her

Takes her till after Area Zero to confess her feelings

It was nowhere near her original plan, but it still worked somehow lol

She loves talking about figurines and Pokémon with Penny, type techniques with Nemona, and will listen to just about anything on Arven’s mind (she’s a simp)

Was absolutely PISSED when she made the connection about the professor and Arven

She almost gave the Professor a piece of her mind because she knows what it’s like to have an absent parent

Almost fist-fought some of the star grunts for their remarks about her friend or the fact she was known to have chased off the other two grunts from Penny

She loves sharing tidbits of info about someone’s favorite subject

Not just as a way to impress them, but to show she cares, listens and wants them to be happy

Loves baking, but hasn’t gotten used to the switch between Celsius and Fahrenheit so she doesn’t do it as often yet.

Her strong subjects are in literature, home ec, the arts, and she remembers type matchups very well

Not as great with math and some biology

She had to retake the math final a couple times, she just needed to let things sink in, the poor girl.

Doesn’t have a favorite teacher, but she really enjoys most of her classes.

She was a little nervous when she began to realize the star squad bosses were all different victims of bullying. She wanted to hug Eri after beating her.

And when Cassiopeia revealed herself she almost cried right then and there, but she knew what needed to be done.

General appearance:

She is short, 5’0”

Pale blue eyes, sometimes they look steel-blue in different lighting

She’s midsize, so not skinny but not unhealthy

She is rather plush in the thigh department, something she was once insecure about from Unovan beauty standards until she learned they had different uniform accommodations

Her medium brown hair falls just past her shoulders when it’s down in a long bob, but she loves putting it into a romantic tuck

She just thinks it’s neat how her hair falls and curves in the style

Definitely wears glasses. Her eyes are sensitive to extreme light so she gets a prescription that will help her tolerate sudden light flashes from Tera battles

She has fair skin, so she burns easily (not used to the sun as much from the part of Unova she lived in)

This made the first few picnics and outings a little awkward because Arven wondered why she kept getting sunburnt

After she told him where she was from, he now always has a travel size thing of sunscreen when they’re out because she forgets sometimes. She’s goofy

If y’all wanna know more about her, I’m working on some short skits of how she’d interact with the rivals, the gym leaders, maybe a little something about Area Zero. I hope you enjoyed learning about Aurelia!

[msclaritea]

"A female athlete was reportedly not told she would be competing against a male during a Brazilian jiu-jitsu tournament in California last week, prompting a policy revision from the North American Grappling Association (NAGA).

On September 12, Brazilian jiu-jitsu athlete Taelor Moore posted a clip to her Instagram account with the caption, “I weighed in at 135 … and she was over 200!” In the video, a much larger male with braided hair steps up to the mat and engages in combat with her.

Comments on Moore’s post were overwhelmingly supportive, praising her for holding her own against a male twice her size.

“Far from a she, that’s a grown-ass man using his size and weight against you. Congratulations on the win but you ladies need to stand together and not compete against men with makeup. You ladies are the key, this is not okay,” said one concerned commenter.

“Shout out to all the REAL women competitors out there. That other dude should be ashamed of himself,” replied another.

Some responses congratulated Moore for managing to defeat her much larger opponent despite his significant physical advantage. “That guy should not be [allowed] to compete but she is amazing for whooping him,” read one reply.

The match took place during the NAGA Grappling Championship on September 9. Reduxx has identified the male participant as James McPike, 29, who is currently using the feminine name Alice. While McPike lost to Moore, he took home silver in the women’s Absolute No-GI Indeterminate category after beating out a different female athlete.

Following Moore’s video going viral on Instagram, her coach, Smitty Wit, took the opportunity to defend his student in a video where he addressed the issue of trans-identifying males competing against women in Brazilian jiu-jitsu.

“I have a student who went against a trans athlete in an open-weight division for jiu-jitsu grappling, a combat sport,” Wit said. “I’m sure a lot of people hearing this are thinking that my student lost. No, she won.”

“But I have a really big issue at hand, this is a very serious topic,” he continued. “In jiu-jitsu we don’t drug test. You can take steroids. Everyone knows this. It is what it is. When you step on these mats, you waive your rights to your life…. And I had to gaslight my student.”

Wit explains that Moore had expressed incredulity when she saw McPike, but he attempted to reassure her to “keep her morale up” by telling her: “That’s not what you think it is.”

Moore’s coach went on to suggest that she had received criticism from trans activists for sharing the video of her match against McPike.

“This is my problem. When she goes online and posts about her experience, now she’s a bigot and she’s ‘outing’ this trans athlete. Where do we draw the line? So now women can’t talk about their experiences in a combat sport?”

In the captions accompanying his commentary, Wit clarified that “this isn’t a ‘ban trans’ video,” while reiterating his concern for the safety of women competing in jiu-jitsu. Wit appeared to draw a comparison between a male athlete grappling with a female to doping.

“My student could have been SEVERELY injured by an untested athlete, and gave up a solid 50lbs. Now you’re telling me women can’t EXPRESS their experience, if that experience conflicts with the other individual? Why is it only okay for women to complain when they lose, but have to shut up about it if they win?” Wit asked.

As with Moore’s video, most replies supported Wit, though some criticized him for a lack of clarity on his position regarding male athletes competing against women.

However, Foundation Chicago, a martial arts school where McPike trains, strongly disagreed with Wit and claimed that trans-identifying males have no physical advantage over females in sport.

“Are you saying trans athletes shouldn’t compete against cis athletes? If so, say it. We disagree. Your student showed superior technique and looked slick as all heck against ours, and that’s why she got the well-deserved [win],” Foundation Chicago replied.

“Beating a much larger trans athlete in short order demonstrates quite well that there’s no crazy advantage for trans women against cis women. Say things with your whole chest, don’t be mealy-mouthed, and then discussions can happen. Congrats on being a great coach and on your student doing so well. Super impressive.”

The controversy caused NAGA to issue a statement on the situation.

“We are aware of an incident over the weekend where a transgender female competed in a women’s division without prior knowledge of their transgender status. We have since updated our policy to require transgender competitors to contact us in advance so we can discuss and explain the policy to them,” NAGA stated.

“NAGA does not require biological women to compete against transgender women. Instead, we give the choice to the biological women and if they decline, they compete in a division only with other biological women.”

NAGA then provided a link to their official policy, which reads: “For those who chose not to compete with the transgender female, we will inquire if they have an interest in entering a separate division which includes the transgender female. This additional division will be offered at no cost to those competitors. However, if individuals decline this opportunity, the transgender female will be directed to compete with the males in their respective weight and skill level category."

SOMEBODY BETTER SET FOUNDATION CHICAGO STRAIGHT. THERE IS NO CISGENDER AROUND HERE. DO WE NEED TO START A LIST OF THESE PLACES PUSHING FRAUD ABOUT WOMEN AND GENDER? I WANT A LIST. I WANT KNOW EVERYONE INVOLVED IN THIS SCAM.

[chimielie]

heaven can't help me now

summary: Suna x Reader. dating on a bet but it's ethical

word count: 4.4k

cw: a lot of kissing, cheating (not done to reader or by suna), humor to ??? to angst to ???, no joke this is all over the place, friends to dating the school player on a bet to fake dating to friends to

a/n: shh

“This is the stupidest situation I’ve ever been in,” you say, surveying the mostly-empty early morning grounds of Inarizaki High. The only noises are the breeze rustling through the trees, birds chirping musically, and the grunts of every student athlete running through their morning workout.

“No it’s not,” says your best friend, the demonic entity who put you in this mess.

“No, it’s not,” you agree sadly. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”

Getting this over with actually entails waiting until the end of the school day, because you don’t want to face the consequences of your actions and would rather hide at home than suffer publicly in school.

One in thirteen people die via vending machine every year, you remind yourself as you approach the contraption warily. You should be so lucky.

Tragically, the vending machine doesn’t kill you; worse, everything goes according to plan. At 3:23 p.m., Suna Rintarō approaches for his pre-practice snack.

I’m gonna throw up, you text your friend. She leaves you on delivered. You hate her.

“Hey,” Suna says your name, effectively cutting off all trains of thought.

“Hi,” you say. You nearly chicken out, but your pride is on the line. You have to do this. You can do this. You are a badass.

“Thanks,” says Suna. Oops. Your mouth clamps shut involuntarily, so you stare mutely at him while he chuckles to himself, focused primarily on scanning the plethora of processed food the machine offers.

About three things you are absolutely positive. First, Suna is a heartbreaker of the highest degree. Second, you are trapped in a dare to prove otherwise. And third, the way his blazer drapes over his frame and he smiles at you like he’s letting you know a secret makes you feel like a dandelion being blown into the blue sky on a sunny summer day.

Like having butterflies, but instead of merely letting them flutter around your innards, you ascend into the weightlessness of fluttering flight.

Fucking insects.

“Funny story,” you say abruptly, making eye contact with Suna. “I was dared to date you. For over three months. I don’t think I was supposed to tell you but it didn’t seem ethical not to on the off chance that you would, y’know, say yes, against all known laws of physics and aviation—”

Suna laughs. His nose scrunches up when he does it, and his eyes nearly close, and the flush on his face is the same shade of pink all the French lovers wrote about, probably. You bounce on your toes in agitation.

“I know it sounds like a joke but I just really need you to give an answer so I can report back because if I don’t ask you they threatened to dye my cat purple.”

“Isn’t your cat black?”

“I have two cats,” you say. “I knew I shouldn’t have defended you. Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he waves it off. “Let’s do it. Could be fun.”

“Are you joking?” It’s your turn to laugh.

“No,” he says simply, stepping just into your personal space so he can reach out and brush a piece of your hair back. “Not even a little.”

“Excuse me a moment,” you say, and turn your back to him to message FUCK in the groupchat with unsteady fingers. You are all too aware of his sharp eyes watching over your shoulder while you type the four-letter word three times until it’s spelled correctly. You tuck your phone back into your pocket and face him again with squared shoulders. “Cool. Sweet. Should we shake on it?”

He stretches out his hand. You take it, gripping it firmly to indicate that you will be a reliable and firm business partner.

“Is there money on this?”

“5000 yen from six people each if we last through the three month mark,” you say seriously. “I can give you fifteen percent of the winnings.”

“Fifty percent.”

“Twenty.”

“Thirty,” he says, and you shrug. “But I’m still gonna call it off if I get bored, just so you know.”

“Oh, I know,” you say. You’re still holding his hand.

He changes his grip so your fingertips are barely touching, drawing your hand up to brush a kiss over the knuckles. You want to punch him in the mouth a little bit. It’s not right for someone to be so romantic in an entirely unromantic situation. It’s confusing and upsetting.

“Signed and sealed,” he says. “Walk home with me on Friday, okay?”

Friday goes well. At first, you feel clumsy and stupid, your mind entirely consumed by the fact that you’re fake-dating him. Your friends hadn’t bought that he’d said yes (they didn’t know you’d told him about the bet) until he’d interrupted your morning briefing with them the next day, hair endearingly limp from volleyball-induced sweat and grin sharp and wide. He’d slung an arm around you while you shrieked and tried to get out from beneath him, aggravated by his moistness, and he’d finally put an end to your wriggling by spinning you face to face with him, brushing his nose against yours and telling you to be good.

That had shut you up for, like, ten minutes.

It’s easy to fake it around your friends, playing off an inside joke with him that reads as chemistry to outsiders. One on one, though, you panic.

“So...” Suna says, hands in his pockets and posture slouched while you stew in anticipatory embarrassment. “What do you think of Englebert Humperdink?”

“What?”

“What?”

“You’re weird, Suna,” you bump into him purposely, bouncing off with the efficacy of a tennis ball hitting a brick wall.

“I told you to call me Rintarō,” he bumps you back. “And you’re the one being weird.”

“It’s just weird,” you say indignantly. “Don’t you think it’s weird?��

“Well, I’m weird too,” he shrugs. “No big.”

Weirder, it’s like a ton lifts off your shoulders when he says that.

“At least you’re weird cool,” you offer. “People like your weird.”

“I don’t really care, though,” he says. “People like you, they don’t like you, it doesn’t matter. You’re still weird.”

“Are you talking about you or me? Or the ambiguous you?”

He only offers a mysterious smile in response.

Your first date with Suna — Rintarō — is five days of walking home with him plus the weekend later. He picks you up fifteen minutes late, has a toxic green energy drink in hand, and refuses to tell you where he’s taking you no matter how you beg, threaten, or bribe.

It’s a classic: the movie theater. By the time you’ve finished reading all the possible movie titles on show tonight, he’s brandishing two tickets to the latest in a series of corny action flicks, smirking lazily at you.

“I wanted to see the one with the assassin romance,” you say while he pays for movie snacks, mocking you relentlessly for your choice of filler food.

“The one who pays picks the movie,” he sing-songs.

“That’s not a rule. And I could’ve paid.”

“It is for me, and I wouldn’t let you do that, because I’m a gentleman and a great time.”

“You chose a movie with four prequels I haven’t seen. I don’t think you qualify for either of those.” He shrugs.

“The tickets are bought. No choice now.”

You get back at him by making snide comments throughout the movie, pointing out every plot hole and snickering at the saddest scenes.

“You are a demon and I never should have agreed to this,” he points at you once you’ve walked out of the theater.

“Aw, no, baby,” you say, pouting exaggeratedly at him. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Not a chance,” he laughs. “No fucking way.”

It turns out that being in a couple can be really good for your social life. You get specials at restaurants, so you go out to eat more. You like pissing off your friends with your success, so you invite them to hang out and bring your boyfriend along. You get to know the infamous volleyball team, who are a lot less intimidating when they run around hitting each other with towels than they are on the court.

Sure, the Miyas seem like they’re constantly laughing behind your back, but you can tell they’re bouncing between making fun of Rintarō and of you equally.

“He’s gonna break up with you, ya know?” Says the gray-haired one to you one day, completely unprompted. You blink up at him, caught mid-soup sip.

“Don’t make fun, Samu,” says the blond. “He’s too in loveeeeee to do that.” He tilts his head coquettishly and flutters his fingers around his face. “He told us you’re not like his exes. He actually said that.”

“I think he says that to all his dates,” Osamu muses. “Male manipulator.”

“Male manipulator my ass,” snorts Atsumu. “Yesterday he saw one of his ex-girlfriends and hid behind me until she went away. The man is a simp.”

“Maybe he still has feelings for her,” muses Osamu, staring at you with laser focus. “Does that worry you?”

“No?” You say, then take a loud slurp of soup.

“You’re borin’,” says Atsumu. “Maybe s’why he likes you so much. Bye.”

“Bye,” says Osamu.

“Bye.”

You’re on your fifth date, getting a special two for the price of one taiyaki deal when you actually bump into his ex, standing behind you in line.

“Hi,” she grins at you. “You know he’s a piece of shit, right?”

“Yes,” you say confidently, at the same time Rintarō says her name pleadingly. You sense suddenly that there is history here you don’t want to make light of.

“As long as you’re clear,” she says, taking your hand and squeezing it. Her fingertips bite into your skin. You look at Rintarō, surprised he’s not making any smart quips, but the gray shade of his skin tells you everything you need to know about the situation.

“The vibes,” you say, suddenly. “They’re arsenic.”

“What?”

“Rintarō,” you grab his hand and tug on it. “We have to go.”

You pull him out of the line, stumbling as he goes and giving her a small, pathetic wave as you storm away.

He doesn’t regain his color until you’re in your room, sitting on your bed while he drapes himself over your desk chair.

“So is there a reason why your ex makes you catatonic or should I make one up?”

“She’s fine,” Rintarō says hoarsely.

“Yep,” you say. “She killed your childhood horse.”

“What? No, you’re insane. She cheated on me.”

“She cheated on you?” You launch yourself to your feet, suddenly filled with the power of a thousand burning suns to strike her down.

“No, no, no,” he says. “Sit down. Sit down. It was my fault, anyway.”

Rintarō’s not a particularly loud guy, but he sounds so quiet now that you nearly ask him to speak up.

“How can her cheating possibly be your fault?” You arch a brow.

“I wasn’t a good boyfriend,” he says. “I was really, uh, neglectful.” He holds a hand up when you open your mouth. “It was worse than you think. She tried to reason with me a bunch of times and I wouldn’t listen. We had a pretty big fight and didn’t talk for a couple days, and when we were talking again, she had... Well. And then it was over.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. So, I dunno, I don’t blame her or anything. Plus, I went on a streak of fucking, uh, flings afterwards so I’m not faultless, either.”

“Bullshit, but okay,” you snort. “None of that is grounds for sleeping with someone else as revenge for upsetting her.”

“It wasn’t revenge—”

“It kinda was,” you point out. “And I don’t think you hooking up with a bunch of people after she hit you in the heart with a golf club is really the same thing. If anything, it sounds like you were just... trying to get over her, which isn’t a crime in anyone’s book, really.”

“It wasn’t hooking up,” he protests weakly.

“You’re running out of arguments, Rintarō,” you say. “Anyway. Um. Sorry for being all in your business. Can I get you anything?”

“I don’t know,” he says vaguely, staring into space.

“Okay,” you say, shoulders dropping. “Sounds good to me.”

You spend the next hour with him in near silence. Halfway through, you ask if he wants to sit on the bed with you, which he gladly accepts. The only noise in the room is the sound of the both of you tapping at your phones and occasionally clicking on a video and playing it out loud. You wonder if your parents would be angry that you had a boy in your room if they walked in and saw the two of you doing absolutely nothing.

“Sorry,” you say, just before he leaves. “Again.”

“No, you’re good,” he responds. “It was nice. Really, really nice.”

Impulsively, you hug him. It takes a second for him to unfreeze, but you eventually feel hands patting your back.

“Night,” you say once you’ve pulled back. “Sleep tight.”

“Hope the vampires bite,” he says, smiling toothily at you.

That’s when you become best friends with your boyfriend.

You can recall the nearly physical feeling of the click of things into place, of the way the universe shifted just slightly so you could see so much more clearly. Dates blur into one long Suna session. Suddenly, you find your afternoons consumed with sitting on the bleachers, even if you're not actually watching practice. You no longer need to invite Rintarō to gatherings; he's there when the plans are made. You text incessantly during class and he sits in your desk chair, playing games on his phone, while you ponder your homework, waiting for you to finish so the two of you can binge dramas together.

"This means we probably would've had more fun if we'd watched the assassin romance instead of General Godzilla 5: Part 2," you say snidely.

"Fuck you," he responds eloquently.

He does the dishes for you when your parents ask you to, and you wash his laundry when you visit his house. This must be what it means to be in a partnership. The two of you encounter new problems and adapt, improvise, overcome.

"Have you and Suna... you know? Yet?" Asks one of your friends.

"No," laughs your best friend (the one you're not dating). "Have you two even kissed yet?"

"Yes, of course we have," you answer extremely truthfully. "Excuse me."

Rintarō opens his front door half an hour later. You promptly scream for fifteen straight seconds. He understands.

"We just need to orchestrate a kiss and get more comfortable with PDA," you reason later, sitting cross-legged across from him on your bed. He nods seriously, fingers steepled and expression wise.

"We can do that. Have you ever kissed someone before?" You throw a pillow at him.

"Of course I have. Just because it doesn't turn into schoolwide gossip doesn't mean it's not happening."

"Low blow, but okay."

"Wait," you pause. "Maybe you're right. Not factually, but spiritually. Do you think we should practice?"

"Maybe," you watch him swallow. "Yeah."

You both scoot slowly toward each other, laughing nervously every time the bed creaks.

"So are you..." You start, throat dry. "Um. Am I or are you gonna—"

Ungracefully, his lips land on yours. Your eyes slam shut and you reciprocate enthusiastically, cupping the back of his neck with one hand to brace yourself. Despite the jerky start, you can tell that he's a good kisser, a really good kisser. He sucks hard on your lower lip, drawing a noise you're embarrassed to hear out of your mouth, which prompts him to shift around and put a large hand on your back, kneeling so he has a few inches on you and can pull you closer. You kiss him harder, desperate to drown out the intensity of your own reaction.

Too hard. You think you black out.

When you come to, your hands have migrated into his black hair and he's pulling away from your neck, which you suspect is freshly marked. He stares down at you with wide eyes, and you suspect the expression is mirrored on your face.

"Do you think that was enough practice?" You ask carefully, unsure of what the correct answer is.

"Probably," he says, leaning back. "It'll be fine. Unless you get performance anxiety and drool on my face or something."

"You're so gross."

"You love me."

"Do I?"

You're half-asleep, walking out of your final period of the day when someone pulls you headlong into a dark classroom.

"Don't scream," Rintarō says. You scream. "Exactly. Thank you."

Then he's kissing you, barely brushing his lips against yours, smirking when you pinch his ribs. You chase him, kissing him fully and turning the both of you so that he's up against the wall, his hands loosely gripping your waist while your hands wander to his hair. He tastes sweet-and-sour, like home and like trouble, a contradiction wrapped in black hoodies and burning yellow eyes.

Someone's calling your name. Someone's calling your name, and the lights are on. You blink blearily at your best friend, who's laughing her ass off, and separate slowly from Rintarō. Your lips are wet and you can't seem to catch your breath.

"It's not what it looks like."

"God, imagine if I'd been a teacher," your friend howls and backs out of the classroom, beckoning you to follow. "Oh, the looks you guys gave me..."

"Remy," Rintarō whispers in your ear as he jogs to catch up with you, slinging his bag on. "You're like the rat in Ratatouille. Pulling me around by my hair."

"You are so, so bad at romance," you hiss. "See if I ever do it again."

"I mean, we weren't going to," he says. "But I'd like to."

You punch him lightly in the arm, but your heart's not in it.

Comparatively, PDA isn't hard after that. Your friends make fun of your hickey, which you shift up your collar to hide self-consciously (and which Rintarō pulls down constantly and secretly, for reasons unknown to you), and you hold hands without even thinking about it. You kiss him hello on the cheek and he hugs you goodbye, and you're starting to become hyperaware of the upcoming deadline.

Will everything change the way it did when you asked him to do this crazy, stupid thing with you? Will it all slip away, like a dream you can't quite remember by the time you wake up?

All these worries add up to something worse, you realize, lying in bed staring at the ceiling. You're not quite sure you can make it to the three month mark without wanting everything that's been smoke and mirrors and espionage to be real.

Only two weeks, you tell yourself, checking over your calendar again and again like it'll make the days pass faster. Fourteen days, three hundred thirty six hours, twenty thousand and one hundred sixty minutes. Everything is fine.

He takes you to the movies again.

He buys tickets for a movie from the fifties, buys you your favorite snacks without having to be asked, wraps his arm around you when you shiver from the air-conditioned interior. He likes the seats in the middle, but you nod toward the back.

"Really?" He asks, voice strangely high-pitched. "Oh. Sick."

You don't remember much of the movie.

Your last date with Suna Rintarō ends on the train. The world is a smear of blue and gray in front of you; behind you, arms embracing you almost too loosely is him. You turn your head to speak into his ear.

"It's been good," you tell him. "Happy three months."

"Happy three months," he repeats, the words nearly foreign in his mouth. "And one day. We're gonna be rich."

"And one day," you smile, and reach for his hand, his bony fingers cold to the touch. "Should we stage a big breakup?"

"I've had enough of big breakups for a lifetime," he laughs. "But if you want to, let's do it. Could be fun."

"No, it's okay," you shrug. "They're gonna know we gamed them, anyway. No need to lay it on anymore."

"Yeah," he replies. "Does that mean this is it?"

The conductor announces your stop, one neighborhood before his.

"I guess so," you feel strangely light, a little out of body. "See you tomorrow, Rintarō."

You should kiss him, maybe. Something dramatic should be happening right now; at least an emotional embrace. That's not how the two of you operate, though, and it wasn't anything real, anyway, you try to remind yourself. He won't be losing any sleep over this, so neither should you.

You lick your lips and smile at him, giving a little wave. He lifts a hand, head down while he looks at his phone. You can close the book on your relationship, and it feels just right. The train starts to move, and you turn around and walk home.

This is the stupidest situation he's ever been in, Rintarō thinks to himself.

It's been two weeks since what should have been the easiest breakup of his life, and things don't feel easy.

At first they were: your friends were annoyed but good natured, handing out the money reluctantly but with knowing expressions on their faces. He'd become too much a part of your life to simply pull out, and vice versa, so things had stayed similar.

But he felt so different, and he couldn't figure out why.

"Good one," Atsumu crows when he hears the truth of your relationship. "Really had me fooled. 'Samu, too."

"Was not!"

"Yes, you were. You thought he was playin' a fling again, not us."

"They were playin' their friends!"

"Are we not their friends, too?" Atsumu asks, wounded. "Hey, since Y/N is single now— or always was, whatever, could I—"

"Are you joking? No," Rintarō says. "What kind of question is that?"

"A perfectly valid one," sulks Atsumu. "Hey, mine!" He dives after a stray volleyball, and Rintarō stares after him distractedly.

It's almost metaphorical, the way Atsumu's easily pulled away from the topic of you by the game. Would that happen to Rintarō again? If he put in effort, and he could tell you how he felt— that he was miserable like this, that he'd gotten addicted to the way you tripped over your words because they came out too fast and the way your room smelled entirely like you and to your all-encompassing presence and touch, and he needed it, needed you back the way he'd had you and hadn't even known it— and by some miracle, you accepted, would he take it for granted? Would he ever be good enough for you?

Would he lose even the half of you he held in his palms now?

He's losing his mind, he realizes. Metaphor? In his volleyball? Unlikely.

He casts a longing look at the bleachers, then shakes his head. He needs to get his head in the game.

It's a Saturday night, and he misses you.

hey, he texts you, after forty-five minutes of agonizing deliberation. do u want to watch something? i think there's a ghibli showing at the theater but we can just stream if u want

sorry :( You respond three minutes later. can't.

rip, he sends. You don't answer. He slams his phone facedown on his comforter and lies on his back, his hands shaking. It's not until he rolls over and feels wet fabric against his cheek that he realizes he's been crying.

You feel so distant and only now he knows what he's doing wrong.

Rintarō's fallen in love with you.

"I don't know," you're saying. "I think I prefer the little jelly strawberries."

He can't focus. Every time he's around you, he nearly works up the courage to confess, to spill out every bloody, messy feeling he's had since you broke up and pray that you'll bear with him for it, but he always talks himself out of it. He can love you like this, he tells himself. His emotions aren't any less real for not being validated.

"What do you think? Rintarō?" You're snapping your fingers in front of his face. He hunches his shoulders and leans away.

"I think about your mom," he musters. You peer at him, your face far too close to his. He imagines bonking himself in the head with a thick textbook several times to remain stoic.

"You're being weird."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Walk home with me today."

"Are t— what?" He shrugs. "Okay."

He sits a little straighter. He can make it another few hours. You got this, man, be normal.

He's pretty sure he fails miserably in that regard, but he recalls you looking at him with sparkling eyes and telling him people liked his weird. He hopes you were talking about yourself.

The sky is clear and he's nearly too hot beneath his school blazer. Beside him, your steps are light, taken to the beat of a song he can't hear. Cars honk in the street and dogs bark in their backyards. He bites his lip.

"Is everything okay?" Is somehow the way he chooses to open the topic.

"Yes," you say. "But I don't think it is with you. Tell me." He crosses his arms, then uncrosses them. What is he doing? He's not sure.

"It's really stupid," he says. "Well, not really, I just think it's kind of weird, maybe, and you might not like it. Or me. I guess that's the gist of it. I like you. I think I love you. And it hurts like we broke up for real when we weren't even dating for real. You're a really good friend, and I don't want to lose that, but," he flounders. "If you wanted to try dating, again, for real, I would love to try dating, again, for real, because I think I could... I don't think I did badly, but I want to show you that I can do better." He laughs, quietly, self-deprecatingly, and slows to a stop, turning to face you.

You stare at him, lips parted and brows raised.

In the eternity stretching between the two of you, he feels something inside him crack. It's not a clean break, either. He can feel shards of himself falling to the sidewalk while you look on, his usually icy demeanor revealing the lovesick boy beneath.

You take a deep breath, and he swears he can feel it inflating his own lungs.

"Oh."

+

part two here

[yulin-pop]

Hi! Can you make some headcanons with the dorm leaders with a s/o small but with superhuman strength capable of even carrying the boys? (Bonus Points if the s/o looks delicate and cute and doesn't seem to be aware of her strength)

⤷ ✧ Unexpected strength

- order 25 | Headcanons | Housewardens

Gender neutral

Requested by @littlepatchy ! This is a fairly old request. I apologize for I didn’t have many ideas for this one until now. Thank you for requesting!

Riddle Rosehearts

Ever since his change of heart, he’s been trying his hardest to change. But, of course, the tyrant part of him was still there. Some of the dorm members had began taking advantage of his change and blatantly broke common decency rules.

“Grghh… Just who do you think you’re talking to…?” Riddle asked while breathing heavily.

The trio that had begun trouble didn’t back down.

“Oh you’re that little gifted boy that throws tantrums at 17 years old.”

“You shut your mouth!” Riddle grit his teeth as he raised his staff. “OFF WITH YO—“

“STOP IT!!”

You swung at his hand with great accuracy. Your hand swung up, hitting him in the jaw and nose. He almost fell back, thanks to a nearby table, he grabbed onto it.

His brains were scrambled, everything was blurry and he swore he could see the light. Until he felt a hand touch over his nose, it was gentle.

“Ahh… I’m sorry Riddle! I hit you too hard…” You said as you dabbed a tissue at his nose.

There was pain in his hand but mostly his nose. He looked absolutely puzzled, mostly because he was knocked out and just regained consciousness a second ago.

“Let me carry you.” You said. He felt soft arms around him and he flinched and thrashed a bit.

“W-Wait! No— Oh…” He was actually rather comfortable in your arms so he stopped immediately.

Leona Kingscholar

He loves to poke fun at you. I mean, you’re just too cute when you start getting defensive.

“Shut up you slug-licker.”

“Slug-licker?” He asked, amused.

“That’s why you’re dog water at—!”

“I see Leona and MC are happily volunteering to gather the equipment, I see.”

And just like that, Leona was accompanying you on your walk to the storage closet. You cursed your luck as he lazily trailed behind you.

“Why did you even come with me? I know you don’t actually do anything and just skip the rest of the class.”

“I’d feel bad if I left you to carry all the heavy stuff.” He mockingly said, though what he said was true.

“Oh yeah?! I’ll prove you wrong!” You quickly opened up the door to the storage closet and pulled out the mats you were sent to retrieve. You stacked ten on top of each other and crouched down to lift them.

You stood up rather easily, the mats were pretty big and heavy. Your legs didn’t waver, nor did your arms.

He stayed silent in shock as you stood triumphantly beside him.

“See~ I told you I could do it!”

He watched your back as you headed back to the field. Leona swallowed, maybe he shouldn't have underestimated you.

Azul Ashengrotto

It was just his luck. He was never a fighter, everyone knew that and that’s exactly why everyone likes seeing him fight, well more like struggle.

In terms of magic, he was leagues above a good portion of the school. But physical strength, he’s almost at the bottom.

Another reason why he dislikes physical education. One of the many electives he had (not but choice) was self defense. There may be times where one is not able to use magic to defend so training your body is important.

The one thing he dislikes about this class is the partnering up to fight. It was a weekly event where two random students would fight using what they learned.

He’s been lucky enough to not be selected all those times but it appears his luck has ran out.

“Why can’t you redraw instead?!” Azul protested at Vargas.

“You’re not the best at physical education, Azul, but in this class, you have to man up.” Vargas sternly said.

You pulled him into the center of the room at Vargas’ orders. He surrender himself to fate, there is a chance that he could win but he couldn’t hurt you. You’re so… delicate and nice.

At the count, you flew at him swiftly and grabbed his arm. He didn’t even have a chance to react before he felt himself being raised in the air.

“AAAAHHHHH!!” You twisted his arm while swinging him up and you slammed him down on the matted floors.

It was unlucky how he didn’t pass out from that, passing out would’ve been a break from everything plus the pain.

“Well… It’s clear who won.” Vargas spoke up in the silence. Azul let out a pained sound of defeat and you kneeled down to him.

Kalim Al Asim

He always thought you were super cute. Which is precisely why he invites you over so much. You can’t always make it but most of the time you do.

A common activity you two do while hanging out is swimming, it’s hot in Scarabia so it’s understandable on your part.

You dunked your head under and brushed your hair back when you came back up. It was an especially hot day.

“Jamil, aren’t you gonna join us?” Kalim asked while swimming towards the wall where Jamil watched over you two.

“I don’t exactly feel like swimming today.” He dryly said back. Kalim protested for a second then turned back to you.

It was nearing sun down, not that it mattered since you planned to leave by then. You turned to Kalim and he dived under with a smile.

He came back up shortly but he wasn’t smile, he looked distressed as he sunk underneath again.

“Kalim!” Both you and Jamil said in unison. You dove under without a second thought and reached for him. You saw his hand, bubbles came out of his mouth as he flailed. You reached out for his hand and he very loosely squeezed yours.

You floated back up to the top, with Kalim in your arms. He coughed and regained his breath as you brought him out the water.

You nonchalantly stood up, him still in your arms. Jamil ran over to you and let out a sigh of relief at seeing Kalim’s eyes open and breathing heavily.

“Kalim, are you ok?”

“For the most part,” he sighed “I suddenly got a leg cramp and couldn’t keep myself up anymore…”

Jamil scolded him very lightly, mostly caring about the fact he was drowning.

“Let’s head inside and dry off.” You suggested as you stepped past Jamil.

“Wait aren’t you gonna put him down?”

“Nope!”

Vil Schoenheit

Today was a rough day for Vil. First of all, Epel challenged him again and then he ran away before he could fix his hair. Then the fools in the dorm started fighting over some sort of group project, so he had to step in.

Then, the heel on one of his favorite heels chipped. Anyone near him could feel his fierce aura. No one decided to mess with him that day. But to make things worse, he messed up in alchemy.

In alchemy…

He stomped his way out of the school halls and ended up in a secluded stop that few people went to.

He begrudgingly sat down and crossed his arms. He thought about all the terrible things that had happened that day. He couldn’t help but think about the pains coming up, such as that photo shoot with that girl that was always too flirty, or he needs more moisturizer from Azul soon.

There was a shuffle from behind him and there lingered a shadow over him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked while meddling with some flowers that were planted around here.

“Oh it’s you. I think you should state what you’re doing before you ask any questions..” He said as if you just insulted him.

“I apologize for my rudeness. I came here to practice making flower crowns. But what are you doing here?”

“Everything is far too noisy and annoying. I just need a breath.” He said, leaving out half the truth.

“What’s bothering you?” You asked as you sat down next to him.

He admitted the reasons why his day was going downhill and put a dent in his pride and well being.

“Sometimes, I wish I could just be treated like a Princess…” Just as he said that, he felt something plop on top of his head.

“You can’t be a princess!” You shook your head, “you’re a queen.”

In one quick movement, you picked him up bridal style. He was shocked. Your small frame made him think it was impossible for you to lift more than 25 Ilbs!

But he couldn’t say he didn’t like it. It felt nice to be carried. “Princesses, they have everything handed to them. But queens, like you, work hard for everything.”

He was truly flattered.

Idia Shroud

Idia really doesn’t get out a lot. Everyone knows that. He does online work and can’t hold a conversation with someone for the life of him.

But, practice makes perfect, is what Ortho says. Ortho called you over to persuade him to attend classes the whole week. It was Wednesday and it seems he couldn’t handle another day of I-R-L classes.

“No! No! Please!” He begged as he hid under the blanket. Ortho sadly turned to you for help.

You pulled the blanket and placed your hand on his bed. “Come on, there’s Board Game club at lunch!”

“Not worth it! Azul can play alone!” He meekishly said while pushing you away.

“Brother…”

“Idia…”

You had one last idea. You tugged on the blanket roughly and then scoped Idia into your arms.

“Eh… EH?!” He started to writhe and try to escape your hold but you were firm and didn’t even struggle to lose balance as he flailed about.

“PUT ME DOWN!”

“MC, you did it! Now let’s go!”

Malleus Draconia

It's not often a time where you and Malleus get stuck in a room together. It’s actually scary.

You can see his eyes glow in the dark, which makes you feel something in your chest and you can’t take your eyes off his.

“Malleus, you can see, right?”

“Of course, my vision is far more advanced than the average human’s.” He snarled.

“Right.. How are we gonna get this door open?” You asked while glancing away for a mere second.

“I’ll destroy it.” He lifted his hand, making a green, blazing flame.

“Wait a minute there! We can’t. This is school property.”

Malleus thought for a moment and put his arm.

“Then what shall we do?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You tried a few things out but none of them succeeded. Indeed, Malleus could’ve just teleported you and him out of there but he wished to stay with you longer.

He didn’t understand why he didn’t want you to leave him, but he submitted himself to his desire.

“This is the last option. I don’t think it’ll work.” You said while backing up. Malleus watched as you unraveled a kick. There was a bit of smoke from your foot as a small bit of light illuminated the room.

“I did it! We’re freed!” You exclaimed while jumping up and down. He inspected the part of the door that was kicked and there was a large hole in the metal door.

He looked at you back as you ran out happily.

“I wonder, how can a human make me feel like this?”

[metalandmagi]

Winter 2021 Anime Worth Watching!

Since 2020 basically sacrificed itself to give us the most stacked anime season of all time, I’m currently buried under the weight of almost 20 shows airing per week. So for anyone who’s looking for some anime to watch this winter, here’s some first impressions! I’m speed running my list this time by only talking about the new shows...because otherwise this would be my great American novel. 

If anyone’s interested, I have master lists for both 2020 anime and 2019 anime, because there’s no shortage of fun things to find. 

New Shows!

And before anyone asks, So I’m A Spider, So What? isn’t on here, because CG spiders freak me out.

Cells At Work Code Black: This...less comedic spin off of Cells At Work (made by a different studio) takes the wholesome concept of Osmosis Jones meets cute anime girls and turns it on its head. In this much more depressing version, we follow a rookie red blood cell who works in the body of an overly stressed, alcoholic smoker who puts every strain on the body imaginable. I love Red Blood Cell AA2153 and his co-workers, but man am I glad we get the regular Cells At Work airing this season too, because I need something fun and uplifting after seeing my sweet son go through hell every episode. 

*Heaven’s Design Team: Have you ever wondered how God came up with some of the weird ass animals that live on this planet? Like, what’s the deal with giraffes? And why can’t we have dragons and flying horses? Well this is a comedy about the engineers and designers in heaven creating the new animals that are going to inhabit the Earth. That’s it, that’s the show. It’s kind of in the same vein as Cells At Work, having comedy blend with a surprising amount of educational information. If you want something light and funny, this is the show for you (though I don’t think it needs to have full length episodes). I’m just hoping there’s an episode about how the hell the platypus was created. Also it’s the only new one available on Crunchyroll.

Horimiya: A romantic comedy about a girl named Hori who fits the image of a perfect queen bee and a quiet bespectacled boy named Miyamura who never makes an impression at school. When the two meet by chance outside of the classroom, we see that Hori is practically raising a younger brother by herself, and Miyamura is actually a sweet guy who happens to be covered in tattoos and piercings. This show is an exercise in breaking down the images people have of others in their minds, and it’s a concept that really hits home in a fun and meaningful way. Honestly, this has become one of my immediate favorites. The characters have great chemistry, and I can’t wait to see more of them!

Monster Incidents (Kemono Jihen): When big shot Tokyo detective Inugami is called to a rural town to investigate a series of strange animal deaths, he finds a mysterious boy with the nickname Dorotabo who has been shunned by the other children in town. As the detective gets closer to Dorotabo, he discovers that there may be more...inhuman secrets to the boy than he realizes...and Dorotabo discovers that Inugami has some secrets of his own. This is a hard show to sell without spoiling the first episode, but it had twists and turns that kept me engaged from start to finish. I’m really interested to see where the plot goes, because I thought this was going to be something totally different just from the PV and series summary. If it plays its cards right, this could be a great paranormal detective show!

Wonder Egg Priority: A psychological drama about a girl named Ai who starts having dreams about a mysterious egg that promises to give her what she wants most in the world...a true friend. Before long, she begins to see how the dream world and reality are tied together, and trippy antics ensue. It’s hard to say more without spoiling anything, but I had to go back and add this one in because I made the mistake of thinking it was an OVA when it’s actually a full series. And what a series it’s starting out to be. This anime has all the psychological discomfort of a Satoshi Kon product with the beauty and style of something from Kyoani (even though it’s made by Clover Works). It’s really one of those anime you just have to see to understand.

Sk8-∞ (Skate the infinity): An original skateboarding anime from Bones, featuring a typical sports anime protagonist who takes a new transfer student who has never skateboarded in his life under his wing. Together they compete in dangerous races and take the skating community by storm. The character designs rival Appare Ranman’s in outlandish creativity, and I can smell the main characters’ ship dynamic a mile away (considering they’re exactly the same as the protagonists from Robihachi). If you’re looking for some wild and crazy fun with top notch skateboarding animation, don’t skip this!

2.43: Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu (Seiin High School Boys Volleyball Club): Yes, it’s another volleyball anime. And no, it’s not just a clone of Haikyu. This story follows Yuni Kuroba, a physically built but emotionally weak teenager who finds out his childhood friend Hajime is moving back to their hometown for high school. Yuni discovers Hajime has become an exceptional volleyball player and they join their school’s volleyball club hoping to turn the unknown team into a rising star. If anything, this anime is much more like Stars Align or Free, where the sport is a backdrop for letting the characters explore their personal problems. Or at least it seems that way after the first episode. I went into this show ready to throw it in the trash because how could anything compete against my beloved Haikyu, but I found myself really enjoying the dynamics of the main duo and I’m curious to see what the rest of the team is like.

And speaking of sports anime rip-offs…..I can’t believe I’m including this but…

Skate Leading Stars: The show where the animators clearly wanted to design another throw away idol anime but saw how popular Yuri On Ice was so they decided to make whatever the hell this show is instead. It revolves around a fictional team sport called skate leading, and we follow the world’s most insufferable main character, a former figure skater named Kensei who wants to return to the ice and join his school’s skate leading team after he finds out his childhood rival is going to compete in the sport. Look, this show is just trashy enough to get a certain type of audience hooked, and it mainly has to do with the best boy of the winter season, Hayato Sasugai, the aspiring team “coach” who pulled most of us into watching this show with his punk appearance, snide comments and smug personality. He’s basically the lovechild of Izaya Orihara and Shizuo Heiwajima in a high school sports anime setting. The show treats itself with the perfect amount of sincerity to get away with being absolutely ridiculous most of the time without making you feel like you’re watching it from a dumpster...like Try Knights. You will know after one episode whether this show is for you. All I can say is, Hayato is worth the watch, and I haven’t seen any 3D animation used for the skating scenes (yet) so that’s a win for me. 

Honorable mention:

Jobless Reincarnation ( Mushoku Tensei): Yet another isekai where the main character is hit by a car (big surprise) and gets reincarnated into a fantasy world...but he happens to remember his previous life and narrates himself growing up as a jaded adult. I’m only including this because it looked amazing animation wise, and I love the opening where getting hit by a car and dying is actually traumatic. And I love the protagonist’s parents (who are retired adventurers who just want to bang all the time). But honestly...the main character is the fucking worst, and I don’t know if I want to keep watching it because of how creepy and weird he is. Like...he’s the hit on your fantasy mom as a baby kind of creepy and weird. But for anyone who wants a cool looking isekai that had an amazing PV, it’s worth checking out. 

Continuing Series!

Because the real gold of the season is in all the established anime getting their next seasons, I’m just going to list some of the things that are also amazing and definitely worth checking out if you haven’t already (because I’ve already talked about most of them at some point and don’t know what else to say).

Attack On Titan season 4

The Promised Neverland season 2

Beastars season 2

Log Horizon season 3

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime season 2

Re: Zero season 2 (second cour)

Dr. Stone season 2

Cells at Work season 2

Osomatsu-san season 3 (second cour)

Higurashi New (second cour)

Jujutsu Kaisen (second cour) 

Not to mention all the shows I don’t watch that everyone else loves...like World Trigger (which I have seen quite a bit of, but long shounen shows are too much for me now) Quintessential Quintuplets, and Non Non Biyori. 

So there’s just some of all the anime airing this season. Hopefully, someone can find something they like. Here’s to a great year...well, of anime at least...