#best ball tournament

[pokepollsters]

Best Poké Ball Tournament-

Round 5: Final Match

And here we are at the grand final! Nothing left to do except choose between these two Balls!

The Luxury Ball is not a surprise to see so far in the competition- it is popular both in-game and in the real world for its stylish colour scheme and useful secondary effect. Will it rise to the top?

Or will it be the Moon Ball? Arguably the most useless of all Balls in-game, but a total dark horse, buoyed by interesting trivia, a unique design, and the underdog effect. Is that going to be enough to make it Tumblr's favourite Poké Ball?

[best-green-character]

Best Green Character Round 1-E

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super 114

Some guy in my replies: “No u don’t understand that’s a Yakuza reference all the criminal gangs in Japan hold hands like this it’s how they tell each other they like crime.”

Last time Goku started fighting Caulifla and Kale to show them Super Saiyan 3, but we’ve scratched that itch and now they just want to defeat him in battle.   So Kale powers up to her maximum, but she still has that little problem of being able to control herself at this level.

And Goku would know, since she clobbered him pretty good the last time she did this.

Caulifla, on the other hand, is all for it.

Elsewhere, Vegeta and Top have been fighting, but Vegeta keeps getting distracted by what Goku’s up to.  The girls have been improving dramatically since the tournament began, and I guess that’d be hard to ignore. 

Top admits that the Saiyans are a remarkable people, and Vegeta can’t help but take this opportunity to point at himself and talk about how he’s the best Saiyan of all. 

So Kale finishes hulking up, and Caulifla is worried at first that Kale still can’t recognize her in this form, but she takes her hand anyway and assures her that they’ll push forward together no matter what.  This somehow reaches Kale, and...

She changes back to her “happy medium” form, and regains her personality.  And yet, everyone observes that she still retains the power she had in the her jacked up state.  So somehow she’s finally gotten a handle on her Super Saiyan form. 

Meanwhile, Goku notices that his hands are trembling. With excitement, I guess? He’s been excited about a good fight before, though, and this time he acts like he doesn’t understand. 

It’s like I was saying before, this time is different for him.  He’s got these two younger Saiyans fighting him, and they’re pushing him out of his slump from Jiren clobbering him.  But they’re also sitting under the learnin’ tree, and he’s showing them things they’ve never understood before.  He’s finally getting to spend quality time with his own people, and the culture he never got to experience because his homeworld was destroyed.  And I think he understands that on some unconscious level. 

The closest example I can think of to compare this to is like when he was sparring with teen Goten in one of the last episodes of Z, or that barn-burner he had with Gohan in Episode 90 of this show.  He had the same sense of satisfaction, but he could tell himself that it was a father-son moment.  Here’s he’s having the same kind of feeling, but with strangers, and he doesn’t get it. 

Or maybe he’s parsing these romantic undertones without realizing it.  Kale starts out saying she’ll follow Caulifla’s lead, but Caulifla insists that they fight as equals.  Remember, they’re part of an outlaw gang back in Universe 6, and Caulifla’s the leader of that gang.  But she’s not the leader of their relationship, which is why I get so irritated with randos who keep trying to interpret this whole thing in terms of Yakuza stuff, or taking the “sister” thing too literally.   You know who’s actually a blood relative of Caulifla?  This guy:

Renso speaks highly of Caulifla, but he’s not part of her gang and he seems to have closer ties to Cabba from their time in the Sadala Defense Force.  I’m pretty sure Caulifla never even mentions her brother at all. 

You know who’s part of the inner circle of Caulifla’s gang?  This dude:

Not Cabba, I mean the anonymous guy with the pompadour mussing Cabba’s hair.  He must be a pretty big wheel in this gang or he wouldn’t be acting so high and mighty in Caulifla’s presence.  We never learn anything about this guy, except that he defers to her without question.   And we know this is where all the big shots in Caulifla’s gang hang out, because Kale’s standing just off screen. 

You know who calls Caulifla her “one and only”?  Who Caulifla looks at with unrestrained adoration?  Who Caulifla keeps holding tenderly? 

Seriously, what gang sign is this?  Harold, they’re lesbians.  Honestly, I don’t even care that much, but every time some weenie trolls my #caulifla tag and tries to deny or downplay this, I just get more convinced.  Because they’re always like “no no they’re not gay they’re not gay u just don’t understand gangs” and I’m like just give it up already.  Seriously, who are you trying to convince, me or yourself?

Look, I’m old enough to remember when Simpsons fans used to argue about whether Smithers was gay.  I can admit that I once thought there might be some heterosexual explanation for his whole bit.   But that was thirty years ago, and these two goofballs are constantly gazing into each other’s eyes.  Don’t piss on my head and tell me it’s raining. 

Now, where was I?  Oh, right, Caulifla and Kale start fighting Goku and whoopin’ his ass.

Bam!

PONCH!

Pursuit!

Goku starts to get boxed in, so he uses a Solar Flare.  I like how he still says “Sorry, Tien, but I’m borrowing your move!” before he uses it.  Meanwhile Krillin spams Solar Flare more than Goku and Tien put together, and he doesn’t even acknowledge the creator. 

Caulifla misses Goku and eats a faceful of rocks, so Kale gets upset and attacks Goku on her own.  She’s a house of fire!

Then they run across Frieza, who decides he wants in on this, but Goku tells him this is a private party. 

I know Frieza has a bigger role to play near the end of the tournament, but I gotta say he’s a real pain in the ass here in the middle.  He keeps standing around talking about how he’s going to do horrible things to his opponents, but he hardly ever jumps in and fights. It’s almost like he’s still that lazy fuck who spent most of the Namek Saga sitting in his scooter and drinking wine.  Anyway, Goku tells him to fuck on outta here. 

Also, Catopesra shows up to offer Frieza a different challenger, but Frieza ignores him completely, so clearly Frieza’s just phony tough.  Catopesra even changes the “P” on his costume into an “S”, but Frieza doesn’t care.

Anyway, Goku gears up for the next round, and Caulifla says he sure is confident, and Goku admits that he’s not.  Make no mistake, he’s not toying with these ladies. 

So then... wait, seriously?

I spent so much time talking about the other handholding scene that I forgot about this one. 

Which issue of “Way of the House-Husband” is this from?  Like, the main guy’s talking about laundry detergent with someone, and then he goes “I like to hold hands with my wife”, and the lady he’s talking to is confused because everyone knows holding hands is a thing criminals do to express how loyal they are to their boss, and the more murders you commit, the longer you have to hold their hand. 

So they do the bit where they make a dust cloud and Goku uses his senses to locate them, but that was the plan.  Kale traps his arm, setting Goku up for...

Fuck yeah!

See, some of you may be confused, so let me break it down for you.  The “sworn sister”, hand-holding, the “weeping at the though of being apart” stuff?  That’s Caulifla and Kale being gay.  This part?  Where one holds him while the other beats the shit out of him?  That’s the gangster stuff.

“WHERE’S MY FUCKING MONEY!”

“Gettin’ real tired of you ducking me, man!”

I can see it now.  “tumblr user dipshit89 replied to your post: But but Kale’s holding Goku’s arm and that doesn’t prove she loves him!” 

I forgot how he got out of this one, so I had to look up a YouTube clip of this, and basically Caulifla went for a spin kick to his head, which gave Goku enough time to duck and swing around Kale to reverse her hold.  Goku’s the man.  This fight rocks so hard. 

Likewise, I couldn’t get a good shot of this action, but Goku tries to teleport after he breaks free, but Caulifla’s seen that too many times, so she throws a ki blast behind her, guessing that’s where he’s going to reappear, and she’s right on the money.  I think that’s the first time we’ve seen any character scout the Instant Transmission.   Cell was just so fast that it didn’t bother him much, and I think every other character Goku has fought since then has been the same way, just rolling with the fact that Goku can teleport, rather than learning to anticipate how Goku uses it in a fight. 

Well, Frieza used the same strategy to beat Jimmiz, but I don’t think that counts, because with Jimmiz teleporting was pretty much all the guy does, so it wasn’t exactly difficult to predict.  Goku’s whole deal is that he’ll go so long without Instant Transmission that you almost forget he can do it whenever he wants. 

So Goku finally turns it up to Super Saiyan God.  Well, I say finally like he’s been holding back up to now.  This whole thing has been kind of similar to the way Goku started out against Jiren, except that in the Jiren fight, Goku was fresh, and he was deliberately working his way up to the higher transforms to feel Jiren out.  Here, Goku isn’t waiting to use Super Saiyan God.  Chances are he couldn’t use Super Saiyan God until now.  And it’s likely he’d still rather wait a little longer, but if he keeps fighting at SSJ2 he’s gonna get his ass kicked, so it’s now or never.

But now, Caulifla and Kale aren’t so impressed.  They went into this eager to see Super Saiyan 3, and now Goku’s showing them an even higher form and they’re like “Yeah, we can still take him.”

Goku opens with fingerguns.  Wait, there’s ki blasts coming out of there, that fingergun is loaded!   Watch out!

Kind of weird to see Goku using a beam attack.  Someone should write a fanfic set before this fight where Goku fights a memorable opponent with a beam attack and that sort of serves as a call-forward to this fight, where he uses a similar beam attack here.  It’s me, I should be doing that.

So things go as they did before, except this time Goku’s much harder to double-team.

Not sure Kale’s entirely on-model here, but I still like this shot.

The girls stay on him, though.  Kale manages to catch Goku in a big green ki blast, and Caulifla’s like “Yeah, you got him!”

But Goku just swims up the blast and clobbers her.  Shades of Cooler’s Revenge!

Then Goku fires two ki blasts at once.  Kale struggles mightily against one of them...

... While Caulifla tries to dodge the other.   Except Goku’s steering it to chase her.  Now, as Goku recovers his strength, we begin to see the gap between their powers.  They were doing well against him as a Super Saiyan 2, but in this form, Goku can sling around bigger, more powerful ki attacks and overwhelm them, despite their numerical advantage.

Kale manages to toss her ki blast up into the air, but Caulifla gets caught before Kale can help.  And that one blast pretty much took Caulifla out of the fight.  She doesn’t want to quit, but she knows she’s finished, and Kale can’t fight Goku alone.

Goku congratulates them for their great talent, but he says they need to learn how to “finish a fight”.  I didn’t understand what he meant before, but now I get it.  They probably had Goku cornered at least a few times before he turned Super Saiyan God.  If they had capitalized on that advantage, they could have defeated him before he ever got the chance to make it to Super Saiyan God.  Or, more accurately, if they had known how to capitalize on that advantage while they had it. 

It goes back to that “street brawler” thing Whis said about Caulifla last episode.  She’s good, but she lacks the martial arts background that Goku has, so there’s a lot of subtle aspects of a fight that she doesn’t know how to deal with.  As we saw, she’s a quick study, and Goku could show her what to do through fighting a lot faster than explaining it.  And the same holds true for Kale.  But ultimately, no matter how much they improve from fighting Goku, their basic approach to fighting is the same: Pound the other guy down until he can’t continue. 

And that usually works, but in this case Goku was getting stronger, not weaker, as the fight progressed.  Their best bet was to put him away early instead of trying to wear him down.  Their moment was probably about the beginning of this episode, where Kale reached her full power and Goku wasn’t ready to go God Mode on them yet. 

But they didn’t know how to seize that opportunity, so they just kept attacking and waiting for a better opportunity that never came.  It’s like when I play chess and I focus more on trying to take out all the opponent’s pieces instead of looking for checkmates.  That approach can work, but it also gives your opponent loads of time to find a way to checkmate you. 

Anyway, Goku’s got the clear advantage here, and he starts preparing a Kamehameha to blow them both out of the ring.  But Caulifla reminds Kale of that thing they got before the tournament began, and says it’s time they fought together “all the way”. 

But Goku is unaware of this plan, so as he blasts them (and a chunk of the stage) away, he doesn’t notice something cool is happening.

Awwww yeah.

It’s Kefla Time, Bay-Bay!

This was Champa’s secret plan all along.  Before the tournament began, he gave Potara earrings to the girls and told them to put them on near the end of the tournament.  They didn’t understand, but he insisted that they trust him on this.  And so they have, and here we are. 

This tournament fucking rules.  We’ve seen everything else so far.  Spirit Bombs, Evil Containment Waves, like four or five Hellzone Grenades.  It’s been five years and I still can’t believe they brought back Android 17.  So yeah, let’s throw in some good ol’ fusion. 

EVEN VEGETA IS AFRAID

Kefla is so strong and fast and cool that she overshoots Goku when she jumps over to him. 

Goku tries to punch her, but he misses. 

Here’s KISS with “Unholy”.

[best-anime-tournament]

[thebestestwinner]

See pinned post for the full bracket!

[coryosbaby]

—ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʜᴏᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ‘ᴛɪʟʟ ɪ ᴘᴀꜱꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ !

(Luke Castellan x bimbo! Reader)

Content warning . Victory sex? Choking, size kink, dumbification, marking, Sub! Reader, Dom! Luke

“Baby!”

Luke’s excited voice echoes throughout your empty cabin. Your curious eyes look up at him, distracted by drawing on pink lipstick with a fine tipped brush. Your lovely boyfriend wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses you flat on the mouth.

“We won,” he says, grinning. “I took the flag.”

You smile excitedly, turning around to hug him.

“That’s so amazing, Luke!” You reply. “ I’m so happy for you!”

It’s true. Your lover may be the best fighter in camp, but that doesn’t mean you don’t get giddy everytime he wins (yet another) capture the flag game.

Not to mention he’s like, insanely hot afterwards. Taking note of him, he’s sweaty and flush with the thrill of battle, and you think this is his best look: when he’s claimed something for his own.

You guide him to your bed, checking him for any major cuts or bruises. He never has any, and that doesn’t change today. You drop to your knees regardless, and nuzzle your face against his thigh. It’s one of your favorite ways to show affection towards him at times like these, when he needs to calm down and let his body rest.

However, you can’t help but clench when his hand wraps around your hair and he pushes his hips towards you. He does it unknowingly, out of instinct, but that doesn’t stop you from pressing a kiss to the crotch of his jeans.

He pauses, a smirk forming on his face.

“Need something, baby?”

You nod, a small “mhm” leaving your lips.

His eyes are teasing as his fingers grasp your chin, directing you to look at him.

“Are you going to be good?” He asks, all serious and deep, and you smile up at him, doe eyes gleaming as you excitedly play with the zipper on his jeans.

“I’ll be so good, Luke. Promise.”

“That’s my girl.”

He thumbs over your bottom lip, watching your hands much tinier than his unzip his fly. You pull out his hard, aching cock, the tip pretty and pink. You watch a pearl of arousal slide down his shaft, watch as he looks down hungrily at you. Your mouth waters.

You kiss his cockhead, letting his stringy precum glaze your lips, before sticking out your tongue and gently licking him. He lets out a heavy breath, his hand falling into your hair.

“Fuck,” he groans, sighing. “Such a good little princess for me.”

You whine, beginning to guide him into the warm heat of your mouth. His smell, all sweaty and musky, makes your brain fuzzy. It’s disgusting really, how desperate you are for him after a tournament. Letting him fuck your throat after a game is almost tradition.

And he knows it, too, teases you as you take him all the way in the back of your throat and choke on him. He presses you further down and lets your nose rest against his pubic bone. Your eyes roll back.

“Mmm,” he groans. Tears leak out of your eyes and smear your mascara as your throat contracts. “ Does my dick taste good, baby? How’s it feel having the greatest swordsman in the entire camp fuckin’ your throat, huh? Y’like that?”

You can’t reply, and he knows that. But you let out a guttural moan, making Luke growl.

“Such a stupid little thing. I asked you a question, baby, I expect you to answer it.”

Your lips slide off of him with a loud pop, your lipstick smearing on the side of your cheek as you gasp for breath.

“Love it, Luke. Love your cock so so much, just wanna suck on it forever…”

He grins, then, lets out a little chuckle between his lips as he guides you back down on his cock.

“That’s better.”

You trace your tongue filthily along the vein on him, move your hand down to palm one of his balls. You’re almost dizzy with it as you suck him, and you think you can stay like this for the rest of your life with his hands in your hair and his cock down your throat.

Luke has a primal stare as he watches your lipstick coat his cock in pretty pink stains. His hips buck up, once, twice. He’s about to cum, so he pulls you off of him.

“Gorgeous girl,” he compliments softly, wiping your mouth with his thumb. Drool drips down your chin and neck. “Want you on your clothes off and you on your back, okay? Can you do that for me?”

You nod obediently. Your wobbly legs lift up and you begin to unzip your pink jacket, then your Bebe top underneath comes off with two perfectly manicured hands. You slide your skirt off, and unclip your bra. But before you can take off your heels, Luke tsks. Ever the gentleman (to you, at least), he puts your foot on his thigh and undoes the laces on them.

“Are these new?” He asks, genuinely curious, as if he isn’t about to fuck your pretty brains out.

You nod, heart racing as he smiles up at you.

“I like them,” he drawls, gently tickling your ankle. “They’re cute.”

“Cute?” You say, giggling. “My shoes are cute?”

“Of course they are. They’re stilletos.“

You smile at the fact that he’s remembering the type of shoe because of your many rants to him about clothes. You let him remove them for you before sliding your panties down your legs and crawling onto the bed. He gives your ass a teasing slap as you crawl over him to your fluffy pink pillows.

He towers over you, slipping his shirt off and revealing his bare torso. You almost blush like a school girl, and pinch one of this biceps.

“You’re getting so strong,” you say in awe, feeling the muscle underneath your hand. Luke laughs, kissing your jaw.

“Gotta get big to protect my girl, don’t I?”

You bite your lip, his words sending a throbbing sensation straight to your already dripping core. He pushes his jeans and underwear past his meaty thighs and hastily kicks them off before giving his cock a few heavy strokes. He brushes his tip up against your folds, teasing. You whine, burying your face into his shoulder.

“I need it,” you say against his ear, sugary and sweet. “I need you.”

And how can he resist that, when you’re so pretty and pliant underneath him? He groans, pressing himself into your tight entrance, his hands going to either side of your head as he splits you open. Your thighs spread of their own accord, inviting him in even further.

“Such a tight little slut,” he moans out, watching how your pussy lips practically choke his cock. Your back arches.

“All for you,” you whisper.

“That’s right, sweet girl,” he punctuates each word in between thrusts, his pace increasing ferociously at the thought of owning you. “This little pussy? These tits? That fucking brain of yours, it’s all mine. Mine to toy with, mine to use… all of it.”

Your eyes roll back as he begins to mercilessly pound your pussy into the mattress. His big hand plays with your throat, then his fingers wrap around it and he squeezes. Your airflow is nearly cut off, and you gasp for breath as he presses harder. Your pussy gushes slick at the movement. Your lips press against the vein on his wrist, and you stick open mouthed kisses to the skin there. It isn’t long before you need to be let up; however, Luke’s grip on your neck doesn’t move. In fact, it tightens— you try to move it off, try to lift your head up to breathe, but Luke slams you back down into the pillows. Your hand grabs his much bigger one, a small, choked murmur of his name tumbling from your lips, begging, “Luke.. please”.

And that makes his hips stutter. He knows you want this, knows that this is something you’ve always liked. If he had actually hurt you, you would’ve said the safe word.

He shoots inside you with an animalistic growl, his cum coating your inner walls in thick white ropes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Your legs shake and squeeze his hips as he empties himself into you, your clit still throbbing hotly. Luke isn’t a non giving lover, and while his softening cock rests inside your cunt he reaches down and rubs slow, deliberate circles into your clit.

“Cmon,” he breathes out, watching your pussy spasm. “Cmon, baby, give it to me. Let me see you cream on my fucking cock.”

You whimper loudly, your orgasm hitting you so intensely you fear you may pass out. Your back arches up into Luke’s touch as he helps you ride out your high. When you come down, shaking and sticky with release, Luke’s fingers leave you and he wraps you into your arms. He presses a kiss to your hair, and you sigh happily when he pulls you on top of his spent body.

“Luke?” You ask him. Your fingers play with the hand shaped bruise forming on your throat.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

@mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry

[lucretiaadventurezone]

TAZ Dashboard Simulator 2 (Part 1)

🔥 lup-da-lup Follow

be back soon 💋 im gonna go fight this guy for my relic

🔥 lup-da-lup Follow

Ubmrella

#girl help #im trapped

(7 notes)

In your orbit!

🪩 avi-the-ball-guy

↻ woe-is-johann

🤼 best-fantasy-prowrestler-tournament Follow

Round 4: Semi-Finals

Jeff Angel Propaganda:

from @.ango-mcdango: I <3 JEFF ANGEL HE’S SO COOL AND HE ALWAYS CALLS HIS DAD

Jess the Beheader Propaganda:

from @.bagnus-murnsides: jess literally has a dope ass axe

#jess sweep

(379 notes)

🚀 cap-n-port

↻ you-know-from-tv Follow

┌───────────────────┐

😎 Anonymous asked:

Your captain looks gnc as fuck

└───────────────────┘

👖 lactosewarrior5000

YOU'RE INSANE

#Thank you very much!

(29,399 notes)

🐱 Sponsored by Fantasy Costco

You Don’t Need All of Your Blood; Here’s Why

The Director doesn’t want you to know this…

🎻 woe-is-johann

↻ avi-the-ball-guy

🪩 avi-the-ball-guy

cannonball system liveblog

🪩 avi-the-ball-guy

ball

🪩 avi-the-ball-guy

ball

🪩 avi-the-ball-guy

other. ball

#babe we gotta get you a fidget toy or something #clearly you're getting bored at work

(23 notes)

📔 sheesh-creesh

↻ lup-da-lup Follow

💋 lesbian-orc-lover Follow

lucretia was 18 when the ipre mission left??!? she should've been at the club!!

✨ you-know-from-tv Follow

oh trust me one of the planes we went to was a giant disco and lucy was freakin it sensitive style day and night

🔥 lup-da-lup Follow

real footage of lucretia at the club ↑↑

#I'm actually going to kill both of you #mutuals #queue never know what you'll find #reblogs

(35,095 notes)

❄️ neverwinter-heritage-posts

↻ magic-brian-with-an-i Follow

┌───────────────────┐

🚂 jerreeeeee asked:

is magnus burnsides gay??

└───────────────────┘

📖 dailycalebcleveland

why would you ask us, a caleb cleveland blog, this

#neverwinter heritage posts

(109,837,936 notes)

🧣 weaver-of-fate

↻ raven-queen-official

🐦‍⬛ raven-queen-official

i loev my beaugifyl wife so muchnohmygod

🐦‍⬛ raven-queen-official

where is smy wife i wanst to see herh

🐦‍⬛ raven-queen-official

hiiiiiiiidjiiii omg shge. is here :D

#apologies guys we hung out with pan and she got FUCKED up #you know how poker nights get #wife tag

(74 notes)

🐦 7-bird-watcher

↻ not-a-shitty-wizard Follow

🪄 mage-guy-19274637 Follow

people who actually like bugs are absolute freaks

🕷️ magic-brian-with-an-i Follow

wrong! spider attack

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#sent to me

(6,074 notes)

🌈 lucretiaadventurezone

hi

[tteokdoroki]

❛ i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making. ❜ with isagi and any kink !!!!!!

☆༉ — YOICHI ISAGI: 0-800-HOT GUY-HOTLINE.

line. ❛ i’m sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.❜

extension. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. public humiliation, free-use, voyeurism + fem!reader, nsfw.

things to note. RAAA !!! luna im sorry this is so late but i was excited to do this one pls enjoy i missed isagi saur much !!!! <3

your boyfriend, isagi, is sometimes prone to selfish tendencies.

being the japanese football league’s diamond in the rough and all-star player has meant that all the best and softest parts of him have become more rigged and hard around the edges. he takes what he can get, even if it means leaving other people behind — you have to be selfish to be at the top, it’s something that you understand. 

your boyfriend is never selfish when it comes to making you feel good. 

if yoichi can help it, he has you creaming on his tongue, fingers or cock at least twice a day when his games are at home. it’s almost double on the days that you visit him while he plays away or accompany him to tournaments. he can’t keep his hands off you, can’t stop himself from needing you or claiming you — his good luck charm. especially after he wins a match, even more so if he loses one. come rain or shine, isagi is selfish with how he teases and uses your body…even in front of his friends and fellow teammates.

“y-yo…yoichi s-stop!” you gasp, face hot and voice strained.

“stop? oh i don’t think so,” isagi growls, speeding up his skilled fingers as they dance over your slit and press his name into your clit. “i don’t think you want me to stop, precious. whatever happened to ‘yes, yoichi.’ ‘whenever you want, yoichi.’, hm?”

choking on your own words, the spit that weighs down your tongue as you drool dumbly from the pleasure — you relax back into your boyfriend, fluttering around the circumference of his leaky cock as it breaches your tight, wet walls. “good girl, relax for me. let me fuck that princess hole open, hm?” he kisses the side of your face, peering down between your soiled shaky thighs to watch the way you selfishly suck him in, your cunt dribbling slick down his shaft and balls. “i love you. so fucking much.” 

isagi’s hands slip up your shirt, exposing your perky nipples, all hard for him, to the rest of the van to see. his teammates, your friends. as far as locker room talk goes, all of the blue lock boys know that you and yoichi have a particularly wild and active sex life — but they’ve never been around to see it. except for bachira, and sometimes rin. 

from across the van you can see ten sets of eyes watching you as if you’re a fountain of cold water isn’t he middle of a scorching desert — a sweet mirage for them to drink in as if they’re dying of thirst. kunigami respectfully looks out of the window when he catches your teary bambi gaze, though he does nothing to conceal the fat erection he’s sporting. nagi writhes in his seat with pink cheeks and parted lips, the front of his joggers already soiled by his leaking cock. and if you squint hard enough, you can see the way that bachira already fists his painfully hard dick to the rhythm of isagi’s shallow thrusts. 

shame intertwines with the lust that simmers in your lower tummy, coursing through your veins and spreading like a cloud over the thoughts in your brain. you like this, you like being watched while your boyfriend ravages you in front of his friends, cream frothing at the base of his shaft as it twitches inside of you.

you’d be absolutely miserable right now if you weren’t getting fucked a million ways to cloud nine — isagi’s hand on your blistering hot mound, spreading your folds and exposing your budding clit to the cold world and cruel stares. “‘ichi,’” you whimper pathetically despite bucking your hips down on him, chasing the delicious burn of his girth stretching out your sloppy walls as his cockhead glides over your g-spot. “i-ichi please…’m embarrassed… they’re watching!”

“what’s that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.” he seethes, teeth sinking into your earlobe as he forces you to listen to the salacious, sticky sounds your pussy makes as he fucks himself into you. “listen to her cryin’ for me, you’re tellin’ me you want me to stop?” you can only imagine how long isagi would keep you on the edge of orgasm if you said yes. 

when he was like this, fuelled by his excitement for the next match — he would get mean, toy with you like a cat with a ball of yarn. he twists his fingers along your sensitive clit you, winds you up from the inside and you let him. “you’re so naughty, baby. letting them look, pretty girl. you want them to see what they can’t have. what winners get when they play right.” 

gasping, your head falls against isagi’s shoulder — followed by his breathy chuckle. his hands cascade along your body, pinching and pulling, tracing your dips and curves and scars. he might be selfish enough to take you in front of the people who know you more innocently, but he’ll still prioritise your orgasm over his own. he knows just what makes you tick, how to get your pretty hole spluttering and clenching around his thick dick like there’s no tomorrow. 

“you gonna cum for me, baby?” yoichi breathes hotly, his sticky fingers, the ones coated in your juices, coming up to grab your neck tenderly — guiding your gaze up to meet his feverish midnight blue stare. his cherry bitten lips slip into a soft smirk while he languidly rolls his hips into you — feeling your arousal slide down your slit, his balls and even between your cheeks to create a slick slapping sound with the intensity of his thrusts. “go ahead, you’re such a good girl. wanna see it, make me proud, ‘kay?”

that’s all you really need to hear before your vision starts to shake and your body siezes up all at once. feathery and high pitched moans bubble up on your wet lips, your hand tangling in isagi’s sweaty dark locks while he rocks into you through your high — your juices splash out against the seat in a never ending stream — only fuelled by the team’s grunts and accompanying moans from watching you cum.

“yoichi…” you whine, back arching away from his chest and hips lifting away from his.

his lips drop to your neck in a loving and reassuring kiss as his hands settle on your waist to pull you back down onto his aching cock. “so good, precious.” he goads condescendingly. “‘m right behind you, keep that orgasm going for me.” 

it’s not long before your fluttering cunt is flooded with a pool of thick, white seed — tacky and warm against your ribbed walls. isagi muffles himself by biting down on your salt-licked flesh, panting happily against you as whe rubs approving circles into your hips. 

a silence in the van follows, only interjected by the bother boys and their own highs. “s-she just lets you use her like that?” kunigami mumbles, red in the face and embarrassed by the fact that he just nutted to his best friend’s girl. 

isagi wraps his arms around you, soothing your fatigue with sweet kisses. “i mean yeah, we talked about. it’s something she likes.” he squeezes you possesively as you drift off. “we both do.” 

“lucky,” bachira grins sickly, tucking his own wet dick away. “when do we get a turn, isagi?” 

“when you’re dead.” your boyfriend retorts, selfishly, which makes you smile sleepily into his chest. “she’s mine, and will only ever be mine.” 

sometimes your boyfriend can be selfish — but you’re mostly grateful for it because it means your chest fills with love and warmth whenever he’s possessive over you. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[calisources]

ROYAL, FANTASY ROMANCE AND SPICE. all these quotes and sentences are taken from different sources as well some made by myself. change pronouns and places and names as you see fit. some of these are heavy with tension or sexual intention, though nothing too graphic, but you are warned some of these are full of spice and forbidden romance. if you have more suggestions, send them to me and i will add them to this post.

ACTIONS AND SCENARIOS. add +reverse to change the roles.

(royal ball): our muses dance at a royal ball. 

(captive in the tower): sender is held captive and receiver helps save them.

(arranged marriage): our muses are thrown together into an arranged marriage.

(childhood betrothal): arranged to wed since being children, our muses finally meet days before the wedding.

(ward): send is a ward at the receiver's house/home. 

(stolen kiss): sender kisses receiver before a battle, away from prying eyes.

(mystery knight): sender is unknown at court and receiver wants to know them further.

(secrets): our muses are together in a secret relationship as their families wouldn’t approve. 

(brother’s keeper): sender is receiver’s brother's best friend. Sender has been harboring a crush since they met.

(taken): sender is taken prisoner by receiver on their ship at sea after a shipwreck.

(horse ride): there is only one horse trope, our muses have to ride together.

(guard): sender is made receiver’s guard and they have to travel/spend time together.

(no one is here to help): receiver is taken to sender as their captive.

(aftermath): after a battle/war, sender and receiver reunite thinking the other was dead. 

(my prince): sender falls for receiver, who is the realm’s prince/princess.

(tourney): sender gives the receiver their favor during a tournament.

(piece of me): sender ties a piece of cloth on receiver’s hand to wrap around a wound.

(you left): sender left receiver years ago, now reunited, receiver is upset.

(last kiss): unsure if they will see each other again, sender kisses the receiver before distracting enemies so receiver can escape.

(under my protection): sender proclaims himself receiver’s protector while receiver is traveling/captive.

(starcrossed): our muses find out they have to marry other people and they reunite at night.

(we were in love once): our muses were together in a relationship in their youth and now see each other after years.

(my castle is yours): sender pledges their castle as a fortress to keep the receiver safe.

(gentle touch): sender heals the receiver of their wounds and inevitably grows close.

(magic): receiver is a being of magical properties and sender finds themselves enthralled by them.

(my paramour): receiver becomes sender’s mistress.

(the bane of my existence): our muses never got along and yet, they harbor feelings for one another after a heated argument.

(maze): our muses lose their guards in a maze and they find each other alone.

(it was always you): our muses are childhood friends about to get married.

(to make peace): from opposite houses, our muses are now married to bring peace.

(corner): behind a corner of the great hall, sender corners receiver after seeing them dance with someone else.

(advisor): receiver works as an advisor for sender, despite objection around court.

(rags to riches): receiver is a bastard now made legitimate and people around the realm came to meet them. Sender is one of them.

(at your service): receiver is a lady in waiting/personal guard to sender’s sibling and a romance develops.

(saved): sender is saved by receiver, who is a healer/witch.

SENTENCES AND QUOTES:

“You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.”

“He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.”

“Little by little, the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him.”

“I want you—but I don’t want this."

“Rule with the heart of a servant. Serve with the heart of a king.”

“There’s a fine line between gossip and history, when one is talking about kings.”

“I will not share you."

“Well, princess, let’s see what you’re made of.”

“She added the flowers and incense to help mask your own scent.”

“Your eyes betray you. Your body even responds to mine no matter that you’re angry. You want me.”

“He is my ruin. My complete and utter devastation.”

“Just how long have you been sticking it to the girl who’s like a little sister to us?”

“There’s a certain sort of beauty in submission.”

“My story hasn’t been written yet, but I know it begins with you.”

“You will love this man. Do you understand? You will love him, serve him, and obey him in all things. This is your duty to me and to France. Am I clear?’

“She didn’t need a man. She wanted one.”

“Your wish is my command, my queen.”

“It is legal because I wish it.”

“Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.”

“She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.”

“Do you really want to put yourself through this? Is loving me really enough to endure everything you have to just to be with me?"

“Make no mistake.You are under my protection now, and I protect what is mine.”

“But perhaps, when you sleep, you will dream of me."

“I cannot come with you, my prince.”

“This woman was consuming him, bit by bit.”

“Call him. Claim him. Speak his Name. Make him thine before all others.”

“You are the harbor of my soul’s journeying.”

“We love what we love. We don’t need to justify it to anyone… not even to ourselves.”

“To love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.”

“The heart is neither given nor stolen. The heart surrenders.”

“Give yourself to me.”

“I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your man to serve.”

“I married you to stop the bloodshed, and you keep killing. When will it be enough- when?”

“Marriage is a marriage- love or arranged. Both require the same level of commitment.”

“We are trapped by convention and must marry another.”

“We had both accepted the unwritten rule of arranged marriage: love, if it arrived at all, would bloom with time.”

“Be with me. Want me. Stay with me.I don’t know how to be without you.”

“We were doomed from the start. A lost cause. A losing battle.”

“Mr. Larsen, if you make me cry at my own coronation ball, I’ll never forgive you.”

“You are my very own forbidden fruit.”

“I’m scared, but I’d rather have one real day with you than a lifetime of misguided security.”

“And you, are mine.”

“You think a courtship and a hunt are two separate things. They are not.”

“I will share him with you, I cannot lose him.”

“Why must you resist me so dearly? When you tremble under my touch?”

“You must be made of magic itself. Your touch is warm.”

“One day, I will be able to leave you.”

“Did he touch you? Did you enjoy the way he held you across the room?”

"I will be your husband. I will take a solemn vow to protect you until death do us part. Do you understand what that means?"

“And why, pray tell, should I make it easy?'

"You are the bane of my existence--and the object of all of my desires. Night and day I dream of you."

"I did not ask for this--to be plagued by these feelings."

“I have loved you at every dance, on every walk, and every time we've been together. You must feel it in your heart, because I do."

“Because,by the time I’m done, prayer is the only thing that is going to save you.”

“Suppose I told everyone that I had seduced you.”

“You’re not planning to refuse me, are you?”

'Tell me if I do anything you don't like.”

“Say you do not care for me. Tell me you feel nothing and I will walk away.”

“I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence.”

“If I wed your sister, it will bind me and you together for eternity, and I will spend every day of my marriage wanting you, dreaming of you, dreading the day when my last thread of honor finally snaps.”

“I have never met anyone like you. It is maddening, how much you consume my very being.”

“That scent. It has remained imprinted on my mind ever since that night of the conservatory ball on that terrace. Lilies.”

“I desire you. I burn for you. I can't sleep at night because I want you."

“You’re the center of a star, and the force of gravity keeps pulling me closer, and I don’t give a damn that I’m about to be incinerated.“

“Whatever bad thing happened to you, it hasn’t made you less beautiful. There’s beauty in darkness, too.”

“I belong to you. Only you…I’ll always be yours. No matter what.”

[b0r3dtod3ath]

Hello hi!

Can you do a challengers fic?

Art x reader, where he and reader had a flirty relationship but he started to experiment with tashi and patrick and she was like "well, it happens" but the trio didnt work out so he tried to recandle that dinamic between him and reader but she lost all the atraction to him.

(lots of groveling)

Thank you!

Thank you for the request!

Warnings: Mention of an injury, curse words. 

You and Art have been friends since middle school and since then he was always by your side. Your shared interest in tennis and joint decision about applying to Stanford resulted in you two being inseparable best friends. Well, maybe not really. Your relationship was quite hard to describe. People constantly mistook you for a couple but in reality you were just really close. Sure, there were a lot of flirtatious moments, some may even say romantic, but you never thought about it too deeply, thinking that it’s just the way Art is. 

Each morning he knocked vigorously on your dorm room door. “You need to wake up! We need to go.” The sight that he sees when you open the door always makes his heart skip a beat. Messy hair and a toothbrush in your mouth give him a glimpse of what it would be like if he was living with you. “Good morning!” He gives you a beautiful smile as he hands you a coffee in your favorite thermos. He insists on doing it because “it saves time in the morning as he’s up anyways”. Oh and also when you finish he takes the cup back to clean it so he doesn't bother you in the morning. His friend Patrick has always made fun of him for those small gestures but he recently got a girlfriend so he’s busy. Actually, you have heard of Tashi. She attends your school and you were supposed to play against her in a local tournament. You have heard that she’s really good but people also always point out your skills.

You head to the canteen, sipping your coffee as Art tells you about Patrick’s new girlfriend. It’s not like you are jealous but hearing your male best friend ramble about another girl is weird. You keep quiet, after all there was nothing romantic between you two. You eat your breakfast without saying much which goes unnoticed to your friend. He stops eating, looking at your face for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on in your mind “I saw they had watermelon in the fruit section. I can bring it for you if you want. Did something happen? You know you can always talk to me. I will always be there for you.” The gentle tone in his voice almost feels like he is talking to a lost child, scared to make you withdraw. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m just a bit less confident about the next match. You know, after what happened a few days ago, my leg still sometimes cramps up a bit.” you halfy make up a lie. You were stressed about the match but it had nothing to do with your calf. “You should have told me earlier. I will massage it before we train today. You are going to do amazing".

He didn’t listen to your begging not to knead your muscle so you ended up with him rubbing it firmly enough to “help you” but gently enough not to hurt you. As you trained he could sense your frustration. Sure, it made you more confident on the court as you transferred your anger into each fore and backhand. Then suddenly you stop. Your opponent gives you a confused look as you out of the blue ignore the ball. “I don’t feel well. I’m gonna call it quits. I have a test tomorrow anyway that I should study for. I can’t be hitting a ball with a racket my whole life.” you look at him, his expression as shocked as a moment ago. “See you in the evening?” You two usually had some evening tennis sessions or just went for some walks as there were not many people around that time and you could freely chat about anything. “Well. I can’t actually make it today. I’m really sorry. Patrick invited me for some drinks. He wants me to meet Tashi”. His eyes looked like they belonged to a puppy. “Oh, yea. I mean. That’s fine. See you tomorrow then.” you say without giving him the usual light hug as a goodbye.

The following morning Art didn’t knock on your door. You assumed he must have been tired from the day before but it still felt unusual. You decided to push it aside and focus on yourself and your preparations to play against Tashi. The match started at 2 pm so you still had some time to get ready. You followed your usual routine with only one exception - your regular companion. 

The tennis court simmered under the midday sun, a gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying a promise of an intense match. It was one of the most anticipated matches of the season on the Stanford campus. It was the end of a debate of who is the best tennis player among students but most importantly it was evidence of passion for sports and competition. You looked at Tashi coming on the court, getting a bigger applause than you did. You didn’t let it bother you, it didn’t matter who was the fan favorite, it mattered who was better. You were first to serve. Silence established itself on the court, a neon yellow ball bounced a few times between your hand and the ground. You looked deeply into your opponent’s eyes. It wasn’t a game of tennis, it was a battle for dominance. 

A thunderous serve from you, the ball sliced through the air with precision. Tashi returned it with equal force, the ball skimming just inches above the net. Back and forth you played, each stroke a testament to your skill and determination. The crowd watched in silence, fully immersed in the spectacle unfolding before them. As the match wore on, the intensity only seemed to grow. Tashi unleashed a powerful forehand, sending the ball to the other side of the net. But you were quick to react, sprinting across the court with lightning speed to return it with a perfectly executed backhand. The crowd erupted into applause, recognizing the sheer athleticism on display.  The game continued in this fashion, each player refusing to give an inch. Your muscles burned like they were on fire as you chased down every shot, your mind focused solely on victory. On letting her know who Art belongs to. 

Then, in a heartbeat, disaster struck. As Tashi ran to return a particularly fierce shot, her foot slipped. Time seemed to slow as she stumbled forward, her knee buckling beneath her weight. With a sharp cry of pain, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her injured leg. She started crying like a hurt animal, unable to think what people thought of her. You stood there in pure shock, unsure of what to do. In the corner of your eye you saw Art running up to her and trying to calm her down. 

You felt really bad for her. Not liking her didn’t mean you were happy for her injury. After asking the medical team about her, you got to know that she’s waiting for an ambulance. When you found her, your heart immediately dropped at the sight of Art holding her hand. “I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry it happened, I-” you started to apologize, “Out! Out! Out!” she screamed at you “But-” you tried to say something but Art stood up “Get the fuck out!”. He had never raised his voice towards you. He was always your gentle, soft, good boy. You silently walked away as hot tears rolled on your cheeks. The echo of your sobs filled your room for the whole night. 

For the next few weeks you didn’t see Art. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him, you did actually, but he was always accompanied by Tashi or Patrick. It did make you feel a bit lonely but you focused on training and improving. You actually started to do really well and moved up the rank. Despite an opportunity to get an apartment you stayed at Stanford. You told everyone that you would feel lonely living alone, but the truth was you just didn’t want to leave Art. He would still sometimes catch your glimpse across the canteen or the training hall but no words were exchanged. 

He found you one evening, your silhouette illuminated by the artificial glow of the light. You were alone, your movements fluid yet tense as you practiced your strokes with precision. Taking a deep breath, Art approached you cautiously, unsure of how you would react to his presence. "Hey" he said softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. You turned to face him, your expression stone cold. You said nothing. A hint of bitterness in your eyes. "I-I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, his words stumbling over each other in his nervousness. "What do you want?" you snapped, you tone sharp and cutting. Determination glinting in his eyes. "I saw you playing alone, and I thought... maybe you could use a partner," he offered hesitantly. You scoffed, your grip on the racquet tightening as you glared at him. "And why would I want to play with you?". Art took a step closer, his gaze unwavering as he met your overwhelming stare. "Because I miss playing with you, I miss you" he admitted softly. "And because I'm sorry. Truly sorry for what I did." You hesitated for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you considered his offer. “Don’t you have to take care of your little Tashi’s leg?” you said under your nose. "Fine. But don't expect too much" you warned.  

As you began to play, your movements were sharp and precise, your shots landing with deadly accuracy. Art did his best to keep up, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. You had always been better than him but he could sense something else. After all, tennis was the most intimate out of all sports. Suddenly, you unleashed a powerful forehand that sailed towards Art with an alarming speed. Instinctively, he raised his racket to block the shot, but it ricocheted off the strings with a resounding thud, leaving him staggering backwards. "Are you trying to kill me or something?" he exclaimed, his heart racing as he moved closer to the net. You turned around -  a little habit you gained, you never looked at your opponent after scoring a point. "Maybe," you replied nonchalantly, your tone betraying a hint of amusement. Art chuckled nervously, rubbing his sore arm where the ball had made contact, as he got closer and closer to you. "Well, you can kill me if you want," he offered, making you chuckle. He reached to touch your hand, his expression pleading, as you turned. "Please. I know I messed up, but I can't stand not having you in my life. I... I have feelings for you. And I need you to know that. I don’t see you as just a friend." You felt your heart skip a beat at his confession, your breath catching in your throat. You had suspected as much, but hearing him say the words out loud sent a jolt of electricity through your veins. "I... I don't know, Art” you responded, torn between the anger still simmering inside you and the warmth of his words. "You ditched me for her. "Art nodded, his eyes brimming with regret. "I know. And I'm so sorry. I was weak and I thought you would never look at me the same way I look at you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." he got on his knees, both hands holding yours. “I will never leave your side, I will show you how much I love you and I will buy you this diamond bracelet you always wanted.” You chuckled “Art, get up. I don’t need a bracelet from you. I will give this a chance.” A smile broke across Art’s face, relief flooding his features as he reached out to wrap you in a tight embrace. "Thank you, I promise, you won't regret this." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and eyes wet with tears. You returned the hug. The two of you swayed for a moment before you broke the silence with your dead serious tone. “Never raise your voice at me again, understand?” He looked deeply in your eyes. “Understood, maam. I’m incredibly sorry”.

April 29, 2024

[pokepollsters]

Best Poké Ball Tournament-

Round 1: Match 16

Here we are at the final match of Round 1 with some very interesting Balls to end on indeed!

The Beast Ball catches Pokémon from other dimensions better than any other Ball could dream of! In all my explanations of the other Balls, I've failed to mention that when any other ball (barring guaranteed catches) tries to catch an Ultra Beast, the Ball has a roughly 0.1x catch multiplier. This makes it extremely difficult to catch these otherworldly creatures- unless you have a Beast Ball! These uniquely designed Balls have a 5x catch rate on Ultra Beasts, making them the only logical choice for the task. Unfortunately, on any other Pokémon it suffers from that poor 0.1x multiplier- actively making it a bad choice for regular Pokémon. Interestingly, in Japan, this Ball is called the Ultra Ball, named after Ultra Beasts! But because we already have one of those (instead of the Japanese name Hyper Ball), a different name had to be chosen.

Our last Ball of them all is the Strange Ball, and well, it's very strange! This Ball essentially acts as a placeholder for Pokémon that were caught in Balls that don't exist in the game they currently reside in. This is primarily used for Hisuian Balls in non-Hisuian games, or vice versa. However, since they were introduced after the release of Sword and Shield, in that game regular Poké Balls are used in its place. The Strange Ball can never be legitimately obtained by the player, but if it could it would match the catch rate of a regular Poké Ball. Also, because Pokémon keep the ID of their original Ball even when the Strange Ball is being used as a placeholder, Pokémon can never truly have this as their permanent Ball- a trait it shares only with the Park Ball.

And that's every Ball appearing in this competition! Get voting while you still have time before Round 2!

[finelinefae]

match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them

word count: 10.2k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n

this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here

. . .

“Again,” 

Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court. 

She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,” 

She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve. 

“Again,”

Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already. 

“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously. 

She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”

“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.” 

“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts. 

“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil. 

This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay. 

However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one. 

She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.

Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.

“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate. 

Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time. 

Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench. 

He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.

Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"

By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.

“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight. 

“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.

“We are training properly,” He argued. 

“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”

“And?” 

“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?” 

“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.” 

Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”

She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par. 

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 

Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.” 

Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.

As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own. 

She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face. 

“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”

He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.

“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained. 

“You made this for me?” She frowned.

“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles. 

Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays. 

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman. 

“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury. 

“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual. 

“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park. 

She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply. 

. . . 

After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed. 

Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam. 

Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years. 

Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on. 

She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie. 

She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment. 

The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it. 

She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song. 

‘Nothing to be justified yet

She the first I'm running with

She the one that get my collar

She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’

. . . 

The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her. 

“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.

Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”

“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”

“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”

Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?” 

Y/N frowned, “What?”

“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained. 

“Oh I don’t know about that-”

“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.

“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied. 

“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.

“You asked him before me?” 

“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”

“Why didn’t he ask me?” 

Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?” 

Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too. 

“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”

Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.

. . . 

It was raining outside. 

Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour. 

“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,” 

“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”

“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”

Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort. 

“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously. 

She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?” 

He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”

“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck. 

“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.” 

“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it. 

“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked. 

“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained. 

“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.

“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied. 

“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her. 

Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them. 

As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.” 

Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,” 

Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”

Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”

Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”

“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.

“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.

“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words. 

Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”

Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it. 

“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked. 

Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"

Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?” 

Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."

"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.

Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?” 

“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting. 

“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged. 

“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.  

“I study,” Y/N stated. 

“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.

Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”

She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life. 

“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”

Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.

"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.

“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled. 

As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently. 

“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”

Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”

Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently. 

He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”

Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park. 

Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked. 

“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief. 

“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat. 

“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”

“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”

She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”

“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,” 

“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted. 

Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on. 

“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”

“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.

“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.

“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”

“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot. 

“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”

Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward. 

“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”

This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,” 

Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”

“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears. 

“Atta girl,” He beamed.

Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”

After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive. 

“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed. 

Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car. 

“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her. 

“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved. 

“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played. 

Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”

Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face. 

“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”

He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him. 

“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun. 

“Okay,” Y/N nodded. 

He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.

“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile. 

“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning. 

“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”

Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.” 

The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”

“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.

Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained. 

Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”

Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”

“And you can do the same,” She says. 

Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.” 

She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,” 

“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”

“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same. 

“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits. 

Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.

“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.” 

Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.” 

Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before. 

She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her. 

. . .

Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.

“Again,” Harry drawled.

Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.

“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.

Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything. 

“I just need to win,” She mumbled.

“Get up,” Harry ordered. 

Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.

“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her. 

He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.

Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm. 

“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”

Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.” 

The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.

Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted. 

“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”

“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”

“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.

“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.

“Come to my place,” He offers.

“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down. 

“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”

She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.

Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment. 

Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax. 

The day after,  they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.

Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.

The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot. 

“For now,” He says. 

Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.

“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor. 

She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.

Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.” 

“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.” 

Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.” 

“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.” 

Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?” 

Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”

Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question. 

“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”

“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge. 

Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?” 

“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”

Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.

“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?” 

“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”

“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.

Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.” 

"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.

Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.

Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."

Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.

"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"

Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.

"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"

"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.

"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"

"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.

Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."

Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.

Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."

As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”

Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.

Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"

Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.

"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.

"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.

But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife. 

"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."

Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."

"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."

"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.

As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.

"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.

The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.

Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.

Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.

"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.” 

“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears. 

Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.

Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much. 

“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke. 

“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.

He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.” 

“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.

“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him. 

“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.” 

Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”

Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”

His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them. 

She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him. 

. . . 

It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn. 

He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher. 

On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker. 

Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone. 

“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it. 

“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.

“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”

Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”

“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”

He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks. 

Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking. 

Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder. 

She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to. 

“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention. 

Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire. 

“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her. 

“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder. 

Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.

When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.

When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.

“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat. 

But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.

“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own. 

Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said. 

Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her. 

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 

Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot. 

Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him. 

They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.

The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.

As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.

Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.

But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.

"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.

“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.

He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?

He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling. 

He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.

The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck. 

After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.

As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would. 

Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.

Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood. 

If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis. 

He was in trouble.

. . .

People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood. 

“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”

“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win. 

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her. 

That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.

Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to. 

Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator. 

Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.

“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her. 

“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him. 

“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”

“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before. 

Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”

Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”

Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.

“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”

Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.

Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county. 

Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super 116

GOKU VS. KEFLA: THE FINAL ROUND

This is it!  The climactic conclusion of the best fight in Dragon Ball Super!  There must be a winner!

Against all odds, Goku has somehow tapped into Autonomous Ultra Instinct for a second time!  Whis never dreamed he would figure it out ever again, much less a few minutes after the first time!  So Kefla’s doomed, right?   Well don’t write her off yet.  Kefla’s still got a lot left in the tank.  For example, she decides to see Goku’s Ultra Instinct and raise him Super Saiyan 2!  Well, that might not sound like a big deal, but when a Fused Saiyan does it, it means a lot.

And there’s the abs.  When I got to these episodes, I was kind of shocked by how skinny Kefla was in her base form, and then she went Super Saiyan and bulked up, but not as much as I remembered.  Now at SSJ2, she’s starting to look more like I remembered.  The key to this is that she’s combining Caulifla’s SSJ and SSJ2 forms with Kale’s Legendary Super Saiyan form, which gets more muscular the stronger she becomes.  So I guess they had to start with a pretty skinny Kefla, because they couldn’t have her beef up as big as Kale, or that would defeat the idea of it being a fusion with a smaller character. 

Oh this is a really cool shot of the arena. 

So it’s pretty much like we saw the last time Goku used this power.  Jiren couldn’t touch him, and neither can Kefla now.  And it’s not for lack of trying.  As strong as Kefla is, I think there’s a solid argument that she could give Jiren a run for his money. 

Okay, I think her hair tie is gone now, the same way Kale always loses hers when she transforms.  Kefla’s hair has always confused me so just knowing that there’s been a hair tie involved is a relief.  

Meanwhile, Vegeta watches Goku playing the artful dodger and he finally gets a clue: this was the ideal style that Whis told them about in Resurrection F.  Vegeta’s all mad that Goku went and surpassed him again.  Sure, Vegeta, he did it just to spite you, because that’s what everything is about, after all.

Here’s a cool spot where Kefla flies after Goku who falls off the side of a cliff, and then he digs his heels into the rock and leans back so Kefla can’t hit him.  Wild.

Or, rather, he does this so he can hit her.  But that’s the trick, you see....

As powerful as Goku has become in this state, he’s mostly only able to use it for defense.  Kefla can’t even touch Goku, but on the other hand, Goku’s attacks aren’t nearly as strong as Kefla was expecting.  He makes a little headway with it, but he’s still not hitting her hard enough to defeat her.  And maybe he could take his time with this and wear her down, but he doesn’t have that long.  The UI power could wear off any second now. 

As Whis explains to the others, even those who can use Ultra Instinct have trouble using it offensively.  Goku’s problem is that he’s still having to use his brain to tell his body how to attack, and that interferes with his body acting autonomously for defense.  That’s why his attacks are so weak.  And if he doesn’t figure out a solution soon, he’ll run out of juice and Kefla will win.

So Goku calls his shot: He’s going to end this fight with one more attack.

Kefla doesn’t take kindly to this, and ramps up her power even further.  Now she’s shooting concentrated ki blasts in every direction, and they rip up everything they touch. 

She just starts slinging all this red shit everywhere, and Goku hops and flips through it as he moves in closer to her...

And the whole time, he’s chargin’ up...

Kefla’s just screaming and cackling like a maniac.  I really have to hand it to the dub VA’s for this, Elizabeth Maxwell (Caulifla) and Dawn Bennet (Kale).  DBS was the first time I ever watched a Dragon Ball series in Japanese first, and I was curious how the dub would handle the new characters, and I’m really pleased with Kefla’s manic energy.  They nailed it. 

She keeps firing red lasers, but Goku’s getting closer and closer...  Finally he jumps toward her, ready to fire...

Ah, but that plays right into her hands!  Remember, no flying in the Tournament of Power, so now that Goku’s jumping at her, he can’t steer or dodge!  So now she can concentrate all that power she was slinging around every direction, and aim it right at him!

THE POWER OF...!

CHRISTMAAAAAASSSSS!

But then Goku just does this sweet midair flip and skates along the front of her blast, using his ki ball like a weird little skateboard!

HOW THE FUCK IS HE DOING THIS?! 

KALE LOOKS UP AND SHE’S LIKE “AWWWWW SHIT!”

HAPPY...!

HANUKKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Kefla gets blasted through the stage!  Then her Potara shatter, and coincidentally...

... the Fusion dissolves, and so it’s Caulifla and Kale who tumble to the bench!

They’re OUT. 

Kale apologizes for losing, while Caulifla cries out for revenge.  Yes!  Fight Goku again!  Give us Kefla/Goku II!  Make it happen!

So now Team Universe 6 is down to just two fighters: Saonel and Pilina. They vow to win, but come on.  What chance could they have?

Meanwhile, that last round with Kefla finally got Jiren’s attention.  At least he’s not meditating like he planned to do for the second half.

As for Goku, he’s tapped out all over again.  I guess it’s a net positive, since at least this time around he won a fight with Ultra Instinct instead of eating a super punch from Jiren.  But still, if he plans to defeat Jiren, he’ll have to do Ultra Instinct a third time, and can he even handle that?  Well, those are matters for later episodes.  As for this one, what else can I say but:

This was a brilliant finish to a classic fight.  A lot of dumbasses out there were only happy to see Caulifla and Kale eliminated from the competition because they hated those two.  But discerning Caulifla and Kale likers, such as myself, know the truth, that Episodes 113-116 were a bona fide barn-burner, and the best of what Dragon Ball Super had to offer.  Show me a fight in GT that came anywhere close to this.  No, don’t bother, because I already watched GT recently, and I have 65 haikus that say there isn’t one. 

I’ll admit, there have been times where I thought this liveblog was a mistake, because most of the stuff I’ve been covering has been pretty weak.  A lot of it is downright terrible.  But I knew the Tournament of Power would cheer me up, and that these four episodes in particular would really cheer me up, and I was right.  It’s like all the frustration and regret from before has metled away.  There’s 15 episodes of Super left to go, and I’m refreshed and ready to tackle ‘em!

Well, later, I think. 

[best-anime-tournament]

[storiesfromafan]

Yule Ball

A/N: back with another story, haha. This little baby hit me hard. Also quite happy with how it turned out :)

Pairing: Mattheo x Fem!Reader

Summary: what happens when you wait to be asked by our favourite Slytherin, but he ends up taking another girl. So you go screw it, lets go stag.

                                                    Yule Ball



Hogwarts was abuzz with talk of the Yule Ball. Every girl was a fuss with picking the right dress and shoes, and how they would do their hair. Not to mention getting a date for the ball. Even your best friend Pansy was a flutter with it all! She of course was going with Draco, and had picked her dress to match him. Tedious, the whole thing, you thought. But it wasn’t a common thing. Nor was the Triwizard Tournament. The Yule Ball was at the end of the week, you had reluctantly picked the dress and shoes. But did not have a date, yet.



“What do you mean you don’t have an escort for the Ball!?” Pansy said in shock, during lunch.



You rolled your eyes. “It’s no big deal” you shrugged, pushing your food around your plate.



“Yes it is, you can’t go alone” Pansy retorted as Draco, Blaise and Mattheo joined the table.



“Who can’t go alone? To what?” Draco asked, starting to put food on his plate.



“Y/N/N, she doesn’t have an escort for the Yule Ball” answered Pansy.



“Really Y/L/N? Thought you’d have a line of suitors” laughed Draco.



You rolled your eyes. “It wouldn’t be that long, but there have been a few that asked...”



“And you rejected them? Why?” questioned Pansy, with a sharp look at you.



“Keeping my options open” you replied casually. Though you knew why you rejected them, secretly hoping a curtain Slytherin heart throb would ask you.



“If I was you, I wouldn’t reject anyone else. Because before you know it there won’t be anyone available” Mattheo said matter-of-factly.



You gave him a pointed look. “And do you have a date?”



He smiled brightly, “of course. I’m going with Anna”, he looked down the table to a pretty blonde in your year, who sat in front of you in Potions class.



You felt your stomach drop at his words, and felt a sharp pain in your chest when you looked at the girl in question. So much for Mattheo asking you to the Yule Ball. But you put on a brave face, smile and congratulated him. Told him you hope they have a good time. All the while every word that left your mouth left a bad taste in its wake. The conversation dropped off about the ball, and back to classes. You had a few more bites of your food before pushing it away, appetite lost.



“I’m going to head to Potions. See you there Pans” you said getting up and grabbing your bag, then leaving before Pansy or anyone could say anything.



“Is she alright?” asked Mattheo looking at Pansy with concern.



“Yes, I believe she is” Pansy lied. Even without her friend telling her, she knew you had a thing for Mattheo and no doubt hoped he’d have asked you to go to the Ball.



The walk to Potions felt longer than normal. Students around you are conversing and laughing. Not to mention the over hearing of students asking each other to the Yule Ball. You frowned and cursed the social event. Yes you were being petty, yes you were bitter. And to cement your dislike you vowed to not even go. It wasn’t worth your time. Not when you’d see Mattheo and Anna together.



You weren’t sure when you started to like your friend. But it was obvious to you once you saw him on the train back to Hogwarts at the start of the year. It hit you like the Hogwarts Express the first time he looked at you with his deep brown eyes, flashing you a bright smile. It caused your breath to catch, and stomach to flip. After that every little thing he did, or said a curtain way, had an effect on you. How you’ve managed to hold it together, and not show it, was a surprise to you.



The rest of the week leading up to the Yule Ball was suffocating. Not to mention turning you more bitter, as Anna had started to hang around your group to be closer to Mattheo. You would sit as far away from the pair as you could, preferably on the same side as them, so you wouldn’t have any direct eye line of them. Which meant you found yourself sitting in front of Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire. Two of Mattheo’s close friends. Though loyal to Mattheo, they had become fond of you, like a sister. They could see something was bothering you, but neither chose to bring it up with you. Instead doing all they could to distract you; deep or stupid conversations, jokes, pranks, etc. And you were grateful for it.



The day of the Yule Ball, students only had morning classes to attend. Which everyone, but you, were excited about. After those morning classes, and lunch in The Great Hall, all students were left to enjoy the afternoon before those in the higher classes would attend the Ball. You laid on your bed while Pansy and the other three girls of your room got ready. They fussed over each other's hair and make up, talking about what they hoped would happen tonight. Rolling onto your back, you looked up at the room's ceiling, glaring at how happy they were, excited to be going with the guys they wanted. While you would be staying in this room, bitter over the fact Anna would get your night.



Pansy took a moment to look over at you, she felt for you. “Y/N/N, why don’t you still go to the Ball? Who cares if you have a date or not!” She said hoping you would listen to her. “Besides, you brought a beautiful dress. It would be a shame not to wear it”.



“Yeah, Pansy is right!” A few of your roommates coursed together.



You rolled back onto your stomach, eyes focusing on the girls of the room. “I’ll pass, thanks. I will see if I can return it anyways”. Then you rolled back onto your back, and went back to glaring at the ceiling.



Pansy and the girls all shared a sullen look, before going back to getting ready, but in a more sober mood. You hated to be the killjoy, but this was a hard pill to swallow. You would have rather Mattheo had gone stag with Theodore and Lorenzo. And, though it would have stung, picked up a girl at the Ball. Or maybe he would have seen you finally, and realizing you were the girl for him. Unfortunately no luck there. So you will do your best to forget tonight, and all that will go down in The Great Hall. Then tomorrow you would remove yourself from all talk of the Yule Ball.



Once the girls were ready, they headed out and to the common room where students had made plans to hang out before the start of the Ball. Pansy was the last to leave the room. She had continued to try and talk you into going. Even offered to pop down to the common room and see if she could drum up a last minute escort for you. But you declined her offer, sticking to your stubborn guns.



Pansy sighed as she reached the room’s door, looking back at you as you read a book sitting on your bed. “I know you didn’t get asked by the person you wanted too. But you shouldn’t let the hurt win, you should go and have fun for yourself”. And with that Pansy left.



You didn’t look up from your book once during her words. But part of you knew she was right. Why should you let a guy consume you, dictate your evening. Part of your mind was screaming to get up, do your hair and make up, put on that dress you love and go have fun. Show Mattheo and every male student that you don’t need them! You are Y/N Y/L/N, and you don’t need anyone!



So with that spark of determination you got up off your bed, and the first thing you did was your makeup. You kept it fairly neutral; opting for a natural smoky eye with a hint of dark green, and slightly dark nude lip. Next you put your Y/H/C locks half up with a moon shape clip, some hair falling around and framing your face. After that you managed to get into the gown you had brought, love at first sight. It was an emerald green V-neck dress that had thin straps that tied up on the top of your shoulders. The bodice was embellished in different green crystals that also cascaded down in various lengths over the lace-up A-line skirt. The material of the dress is a mix of cotton, satin and tulle, making it airy and flowy, almost whimsical. After putting on your shoes, the last item you put on was the necklace Mattheo had given you for your birthday.



At first you were unsure of wearing the dainty silver two chain necklace, that each houses a star on the top chain and a moon on the lower. Staring at the simple but beautiful piece of jewellery, you thought wearing it would go against the passion lit in you to stick it to the male students. You felt it would be like wearing a ball and chain, weighing you down with the reminder of who you weren’t there with. But in the end you chose to wear the necklace. It suited you well, telling you Mattheo knew you. And that wasn’t all that you noticed him do for you. He was always opening doors for you, greeting you first in the morning, taking a seat next to you during meals, and taking you hand at merited or random times. Which is why you had been so sure of him asking you to the Yule Ball, and the chance he liked you as much as you liked him.



Taking one final look at yourself in the room's full mirror, you made last minute adjustments before lifting your head up high and began your trek to The Great Hall. Rising from the lower level of the school, you walked down halls littered with various paintings. Many of the painting’s residents said ‘hello’ as you passed, with a few commenting on how lovely you looked, which made you smile and thank them. With every step closer to The Great Hall you could feel your heart rate pick up, breathing becoming a tad harder with nerves. You came to the staircase before the first set of doors to The Great Hall, at the bottom you spotted your friends. It was now or never.



Lorenzo was the first to spot you at the top of the stairs, a bright smile crossing his face as he pointed you out to Theodore. Who said your name in question a little loud, catching Pansy and Draco’s attention. All three’s eyes followed Lorenzo’s to where you stood. Noticing them staring at you, you knew there was no going back now. So placing your hand on the railing, you started to descend the stairs with a soft smile on your face. Mattheo was confused as to why his friends were quiet, and looking behind him. Turning around he saw you coming down the stairs dressed in the perfect shade of green for you, you looked absolutely stunning. Sure, he would say you look beautiful everyday. But right this moment, you looked like a Goddess gracing Earth with your presence.



Coming to reside on the floor before your friends, Lorenzo and Theodore were the ones to move to your sides. They offered you compliments a plenty, which made you laugh nervously and tell them to stop. Pansy was the next to come over to you, so happy you had changed your mind, and how lovely you looked in your dress.



“You clean up nicely Y/L/N” Draco complimented, to which Pansy slapped his arm.



“Never say that to a lady” she said angrily. But then turned back to you, “what made you change your mind!?” She asked. “I didn’t expect you to change your mind, but I am so happy you did!”



You laughed at her words, both Mattheo and Anna coming over to join you all. “I decided I wasn’t going to let my lack of a date bring me down. No shame in going stag”.



Both Lorenzo and Theodore agreed with you. “No shame at all, both Enzo and I are stag” Theodore said with a bright smile. “You can join us!”



You laughed at the pair. “Both of you going stag doesn’t surprise me one bit”.



All the while bantered with his two close friends, Mattheo looked at you. He was mesmerized by how beautiful you looked. He felt like this was the first time he was seeing you, the real you. He liked how your eyes lit up with laughter, enjoyed the sound of your voice, and over all adored your presence. Soon you all began to make your way into The Great Hall; Draco and Pansy taking the lead arm in arm, followed by you on either arm of Lorenzo and Theodore, while Mattheo and Anna brought up the rear. You could feel eyes on the back of you as you walked, but soon you felt many eyes on you as you entered the large room. You took note of how winter wonderland The Great Hall looked.



After finding a spot off to the side, your group took to talking and laughing. You hadn't paid Mattheo or his date any mind, not really looking at them. Instead talking with Lorenzo and Theodore, which had been fun so far. Eventually the TriWizard champions entered the hall, and kicked off the dancing. You watched in delight at the twirling and lifting of the female’s. You sighed, wishing you were a part of the dancing. And as if reading your mind, both boy’s offered you their hand but then glared at the other. After a quick round of paper, scissors, rock; you were dragged by the winner Lorenzo to the dance floor. You joined Pansy and Draco moving around the room. You weren’t the best dancer, but Lorenzo was patient with you, leading you in the current formal dance, all while you both laughed and smiled. Once that dance was done, Theodore swooped in and stole you from his friend. He led you around in the dance, as Mattheo and Anna joined this time.



Theodore was commenting on the teacher’s who had taken to the dance floor. His words had you in stitches, while Mattheo glared at the both of you while dancing with his date. Seeing you dance with Lorenzo, and now Theodore, left him cursing them. How dare they take your attention for themselves. If they hadn’t been fussing over you, he would have had your attention. Anna complained when Mattheo had stepped on her foot, too distracted by his friend and you to pay attention to his dance partner. After that dance you and Theodore left the dance floor, and Mattheo went back to focusing on Anna as best he could, knowing you were out there somewhere. Any male students coming up and talking to you made his blood boil.



You found yourself alone, leaning against a stone wall after Theodore and Lorenzo went to work the room, aka hit on girls. Of course they weren’t going to leave you on your own, but you had told them to go, you’d be fine. So here you were, being a wallflower, watching those on the dance floor. Over time the formal music and dancing was replaced by the band Weird Sisters, and students jumping around and letting loose. By this point you noted Draco and Pansy sitting down by the dance floor, they were talking while Pansy rubbed his back. Your gaze then moved to the dance floor, you laughed softly at Fred and George jumping around like idiots, their date’s not too pleased. But the other bodies on the floor weren’t that different from the twins.



Then you spotted Mattheo and Anna; they were dancing away from the jumping crowd, probably so they wouldn’t get hurt or drawn in. Seeing them hurt, a lot. That bitterness slowly returning with every second you watched them. You felt the prickling of tears in the corner of your eyes. No, you weren’t going to let them win. You would not cry. Standing up straight you took a deep breath before releasing it. That was when Lorenzo and Theodore came back to you, both taking a spot on either side of you and leaning against the wall. Their eyes followed where you were looking and it was like a light bulb went off over both of them. You were upset with Mattheo for bringing Anna to the Ball, and no doubt you fancied their friend.



“What’s a pretty girl like yourself being a wallflower?” Theodore asked, turning his head to look at you.



“I’m not a wallflower” you retorted, looking Theodore in the eyes.



“Yes you are” Lorenzo said looking at you. “Standing by yourself, watching everyone else; definition of wallflower”.



“Not entirely correct” you replied with a sigh.



“Why are you alone? Any guy here would be dying to dance with a beauty like you” Theodore with a smirk.



“Doubt it” you said, hitting his arm. “Did you spike the punch? How much have you had to drink?”



Both boys laughed. “First off; yes just about every guy here wants to dance with you” Lorenzo said matter-of-factly.



“And second; we didn't spike the punch. Snape or McGonagall would know within five minutes” Theodore finished.



You looked between them with a raised eyebrow. “Then how have you been drinking?” You asked, skipping their notion of most males wanting to dance with you.



Both boys smiled all knowingly, before Theodore looked around making sure no Professor’s were around. He then proceeded to produce a silver flask. Cheeky sod’s, they were carrying. Theodore offered you a drink, which you thought screw it and took a few sips from, before returning the flask to him. A shocked look on your face at home the whisky went down, burning your throat. Both boys laughed at your reaction. Then Lorenzo offered you some of his, which had been vodka. Not good to mix the two liquors, but you were over caring. You needed to dull the thoughts in your head, and forget, even for the night, Mattheo and Anna.



“Come on wallflower” Lorenzo said, getting up from his leaning position. “Let’s go have some fun and dance the night away!”



Feeling the numbing sensation taking over, you stood. “Alright boys, let’s go!”



Lorenzo grabbed your hand and pulled you to the dance floor, Theodore right behind you both. Once on the dance floor you grasped the skirt of your dress and lifted it slightly as you moved around with both boys to the music. You let the music take over, feeling every note and moving to its rhythm. Lorenzo and Theodore moved along with you, all three of you singing and laughing, all the while jumping and turning. You let the alcohol and energy of dancing wash away your thoughts of the Slytherin you liked, and his date. You focused on letting loose, having fun with your two friends. Every now and then, you three would sneak drinks from the flask’s the boys were concealing, just adding fuel to the fire of total freedom.



While you had been talking to the boys against the wall, then drinking with them and now dancing, Mattheo had watched almost all of your three’s doings. And he didn’t like the influence his friends had on you. He could understand talking to you, and dancing with you, but not the alcohol consumption. That wasn’t very you. Sure, during house parties you would have a few drinks. But not straight liquor. Yet there you were before, doing just that. By this time Mattheo and Anna were sitting down with Pansy and Draco, taking a rest.



“Y/N/N looks to be having fun” Pansy said with a laugh. “I wasn’t sure about those two, but they are helping her tonight”.



“Ha. Why do you say that?” Draco asked, not entirely caring.



Pansy briefly looked at Mattheo before going back to her date. “Before I left our dorm she was so adamant on not coming tonight. I know she had hoped for a particular guy to ask her to the Ball”.



“That is sad they didn’t” Anna said with a frown. “But I’m glad she did come. And is having a good time” she then smiled after those words.



Pansy half smiled at the girl, not thrilled she was with Mattheo. “Yes, I am happy too. She didn’t need him to have a good time”.



Mattheo was silent during the conversation. Wondering who would be such an idiot to not ask you. Sure, he had considered asking you but then Anna came into the picture. And he had decided to ask her. He knew you wouldn’t have had any trouble getting a date. A few guy’s from the Slytherin Quidditch team had asked at different times if you had a date yet, and he said no. Even then, a small part of him didn’t like the idea of them taking you to the Ball. He chalked it up to being a protective friend. But now he knew why. He liked you. Plain and simple.



With all the dancing and drinking you were doing, it finally started to catch up to you. And you slowed down, while your company continued to dance, and take some well needed air. You felt your head swimming from the alcohol, but it was pleasant, you felt a little giddy. But your legs and arms were starting to ache from all the jumping, shimmying and twirling with Lorenzo and Theodore. Not to mention some of the students had called it a night, yet it didn’t stop the remaining students. Thinking it was time to call it quits, you were about to look for a particular curly haired brunette, before stopping yourself. Who cares where he was or what he was doing. You have had a good time tonight.



So with a content smile you let both Lorenzo and Theodore know you were going to head off to bed. They gave you overdramatic pleas to stay, but when you said it was bedtime, they fake cried making you laugh. Bidding them goodnight you held your head high before making your way from the dance floor. Pansy noticed you leave the dance floor, and when you both saw the other looking, you waved and mouthed goodnight. She got the message, and was fine with you going to bed. You deserved a good sleep after having a fun night.



Exiting The Great Hall you climbed up the stairs you had taken to get to the hall, before swaying slowly down the hallway, almost floating down with that content smile still on your lips. Letting go of Mattheo, and the alcohol you consumed, did you wonders tonight. For once you had fun for yourself. You didn’t think about others. Didn’t worry over what anyone would think. Didn’t let the rational side of your brain ruin your night with thoughts. You had successfully detached from who you were.



“Y/N!” Call the reality train, in the form of one Mattheo Riddle.



You sighed, stopping where you were. Not even turning around. “Yes?” You asked.



“Are you alright?” He asked, concerned.



Confused, you turned around to see the Slytherin boy a meter from you. “Peachy. Why?”



“You’re leaving the Ball early” Mattheo made an excuse, knowing you were probably tired and ready for bed. But he had to speak to you. After watching you the rest of the night with his friends, he needed to have time with you.



“Well Theo, this young lady is ready to go back to her room and turn into an ordinary, average girl” you said with a small laugh.



He looked at you confused. “You’re not ordinary, nor are you average Y/N/N. Fair from it actually”.



You laughed. “Yes I am Theo, it’s fine to say it”.



“No you’re not. You are an incredible person; smart, kind, fierce. And you know you are beautiful”.



“I do look quite good tonight” you stated, straightening out your skirt.



“No, you are beautiful everyday,” Mattheo said sincerely. “Are you upset because you didn’t have a date? Because the guy you hoped to ask you didn't?”



You looked Mattheo in the eyes, he was concerned but you could see something in his eyes that made you think he was being protective of you. “Not at all. Sure it sucked he didn’t ask me” you could feel the alcohol loosen your tongue and decided to go with it. “He even brought another girl, which hurt. But it is what it is”.



“He’s an idiot” Mattheo commented, as you moved to lean against the stone wall.



“Yeah. But I can’t blame him. He doesn’t know how I feel, or how I wanted him to ask me” you said in thought. “Maybe if I was more obvious he’d have caught on”, You looked at him with a sad smile.



Mattheo hated seeing that smile on your face, and how your eyes dulled. And he felt himself bringing up thoughts he had, not sure why though. “Maybe he is oblivious to something special. A dick move on his part”, he slowly moved closer to you.



You watched him closely, still fuelled by the liquor in your system you kept going. “Maybe it is. But, again, I never said anything. I assumed from the way he would open doors for me, or greet me first thing in the morning, or even hold my hand, that there was something”.



Mattheo nodded as he came to stand before you. “Well, taking that into account, he might have felt something. But he didn’t entirely know what it meant. If you are close though, he should have asked you”, he was confessing that he knew he should have asked you when he had thought too.



The next words out of your mouth sealed it for him. “Yes, you should have asked me”.



Staring into each other's eyes, Mattheo didn’t say another word. He leaned down and planted his lips upon your own. The kiss was slightly rough, but you still felt that spark. Both of you felt the butterflies in your stomach. Your hands reached out and grasped at his white dress shirt, while he leaned his left arm on the wall next to your head, bringing your bodies closer, his right hand cupping your cheek. Pulling back briefly you looked at each other and smiled. Mattheo then went back in for another kiss, this time deepening the kiss. It sent your mind reeling, and somewhat sobering you up. This was really happening, this moment you had daydreamed about was actually happening.



While you and Mattheo made out in the hallway, Lorenzo came up the stairs and turned down the hallway. He was looking for Mattheo, at the request of Anna. For the brunet had left her without much of a reason, and he had been gone for a while which made her worry. Looking upon the hallway in confusion, Lorenzo soon spotted two familiar figures. A smug smile soon formed on his lips after seeing the two snogging away in the hallway. Chuckling to himself he turned away from the pair, and headed back to The Great Hall.



“Guess Theodore and I have a young lady to console” he said to himself walking down the staircase and going back to what was left of the Ball.

A/N: as always, constructive feedback welcome. Also please see pocs of dress and necklace.

[thebestestwinner]

Top two vote-getters will move on to the next round. See pinned post for all groups!