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mediumgayitalian · 1 month ago

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Right before he left for an errand of his father's, Nico di Angelo almost kissed him.

Will is sure of it.

He'd been so close. Will had felt his breathing, spine tingling, on the curve of his dry lip: he had stood on on the bottom stair of the porch of Cabin Seven, a little shorter than Will even than usual, hands hovering over Will's wrists. Will had fought with the temptation to slide his wrists just so upward, just enough to slot against his open palms; he had resisted, in the end, but it was a close thing, a desperate need to feel the chill of Nico's chapped hands through his bandages, past his tangled string bracelets. Nico had parted his lips, meaning to say something, and Will had exhaled, quick and short, flicking down to meet his eyes, already staring. Nico's pupils were dilated, even obvious with the dark dark dark of his eyes, and his eyelids were low-slung, long eyelashes fanning. He had managed one word.

"I --"

And then Will's stupid watch chimed, and Nico glanced down, and he cursed, wrenching his hands away, and that time Will did grab them, just for a milisecond, just on reflex. And Nico had frozen and stared down at their joined hands, eyes wide, but Will was already halfway through a reflective "Sorry! Oh my gods! Sorry! Don't be late!" and Nico straightened, eyes narrowing in determination, and rushed out his okayseeyoulaterbye and sprinted across the common, disappearing into the shadow of his cabin. And Will stared after him for several minutes, until his vision was obstructed by a camper.

A camper who turned to him, eyes wide and sheepish and hopeful, wrist bent oddly, and said: "Hey, Will --"

And Will screamed his frustration so loud the camper jumped out of his skin, squeaking out an excuse, and walked quickly off, which was just as well because Will doubted he could be very much help when he was so busy stomping back to his cabin, burying his face in his pillow, and screeching until his voice went hoarse.

"Fucking boys!" he shouted.

Lou Ellen, in his cabin for some reason, flipped a page of her magazine, snorting.

"Hear, hear."

And that was that.

-- -- --

Except that wasn't that.

Because Nico sends him letters.

"I don't get any of those," Percy observes , peeking over his shoulder. Will slams the paper to his chest. shoves his face away, and storms off, face burning.

"Maybe because you are a tool," he mutters darkly, and flushes worse when he does not mutter at all, and Annabeth laughs so hard she chokes. He ducks into the stables and presses his steaming forehead to the wood, eyes squeezed shut, letter clutched to his chest as he waits out Annabeth's wheezing, Percy's hurt mumbling.

"I'm not a tool, am I?"

"Oh my gods I am going to pass out."

Once she reassures him, giggling, and drags him off Somewhere Else, Will peeks out. There is Clovis, curled up on the ground, but he is out cold. There is Miranda, a little ways away, tending to an olive tree, but she minds her own business. There is Connor, rigging...something, but that's okay. Will knows his pressure points.

He exhales, willing the heat away from his face. It doesn't work. He sits down in Guido the Pegasus's stall, anyway, shooting him a small smile in greeting, and smooths out the letter on his thigh. It reads:

Dear My Friend Belov

Will,

Hi.

Okay, hi again. I let this letter sit for two weeks because I was embarrassed. I don't know what to say. Because I'm

Hi. Again.

I have locked myself in my room with a pen and no food source (you would not approve). I gave one of my father's minions a key. They are not to release me until I have filled at least one page. So.

Uh, -- wow, is it stupid, writing 'uh', I used to write letters for competitions at school -- I miss you. I guess. I got a papercut yesterday and my stepmother gave me a bandaid. It was so strange and then I blinked because -- it shouldn't be strange, right? That's what you do for papercuts. But then I realized that I never get bandaids for papercuts. You just healed them.

And then I realized I have become a booger.

Will stops, and laughs. Guido huffs and raises his horsey eyebrow at him, and Will knows its in judgment because horses are the judgiest creatures on Earth, except for church ladies, and his ears burn. But he cannot force away the giant smile on his face no matter how hard he tries. He shifts, laying back onto the haypile -- and ignoring Guido's whiney huff, see, being mean has consequences -- and holding the letter above his face. From this angle, he can see the scratch marks bleeding in from the back, from all the words Nico has crossed out. Will considers using his X-ray machine to determine what it says and then realizes that is insanity. His pulse fires in his ear, loud and red-hot.

What does booger even mean.

I used to -- fight manticores! Empousai! I fistfought The Original Werewolf and won!

You make me weak.

He hears it, loud and echoing: the stutter of his heart, the actual moment where it pauses for a second, as if it doesn't have a job. Will inhales sharply and freezes with his fingers pinching the edges of the pages, breathing out, and out, and out; he exhales the sum total of oxygen left in his lungs and does not move, still, shifts only his eyes as they swing rapidly from line to line and word to word and trace every shift and bend of the careful cursive letters.

I don't -- that's maybe not the best way to write that but I tried three different sentences and they don't work right. What I'm trying to say, is: I used to be really cool and badass and everything, but you keep bossing me around and I keep letting you, and now I use conditioner in my hair.

He snorts a laugh, finally, swimming vision rebalancing as his lungs inflate again. His hands shake, ever so slightly, so he rests the letter gently on his lap, and tucks his hands under his thighs. Guido noses gently at the mess of his hair, and Will leans into the clever horse, smiling.

Which you don't even use! Because you're awful like I used to be and use -- that stupid 3-in-1 stuff! Because you never have time for anything! Because you don't tell people with papercuts to stuff it and get their own bandaids! Because you're ridiculous!

I guess I am really just thinking: sleep. You, I mean. I sleep until my servants wake me, which, I mean, there's no sun down here, but is probably noon or something. You should sleep, because now that I'm not there I'm sure no one else is bothering you to do it, and you're an idiot.

So.

I reached the end of the page so I don't have to write anymore. I hope you get this letter soon and you haven't dropped dead from exhaustion, even thought I know you haven't because I would feel it and I would kick your ass right back to the land of the living.

I love you

Don't kill yourself. Be meaner.

Love, Bye,

Nico. (di Angelo)

"Of course you have servants," Will mumbles, and buries his face in his hands.

Guido neighs at him, loud and exaggerated directly in his ear. Will shoves him off, scowling, and somersaults to his feet, standing with his hands on his hips. Guido blinks his big eyes at him. They are dark, like Nico's. Will considers screaming. He doesn't want to receive a hoof to the kneecap, so he doesn't, and instead redirects his energy into finger-combing Guido's mane and making general groaning noises of discontent. Guido rolls his eyes at him, which is rude. Which is -- judgey, and Guido is a dumb horse and he should not be embarrassed in front of a dumb horse but he is and it is the worst and all Nico's fault, he knows it.

"You're a horse," Will says, huffy. "You do not understand my gripes. How would you feel if you fell in love --" Will falters -- "if you -- well -- well!" He stops, squeezing his eyes shut. Don't kill yourself. Be meaner.

What is wrong with him.

"Did you know he smells like a garden," Will says, eventually. He loosens his hold on Guido's mane when he whinnies in discomfort, pressing a smooch of apology between his giant eyes and using his hand to shake his fist at the heavens instead. "Just -- all the time. He smells like when you dig up the dirt, right before you put the flowers in the ground. That -- heady smell. You know?"

Guido blinks at him.

"Of course you do not know. You are a winged horse, and I need a straightjacket." He smooths down his patchy coat, sighing. "Guido, which pegasus do you have a crush on."

Guido, being a horse, does not answer.

"Is it Princess Peach Sour Rings?" He glances over at the dusky orange mare, lips pursed in consideration. Guido, too, looks in interest: they make eye contact, look to Will, and then back at each other. Will swears he sees them raise their eyebrows. "It's Princess Peach Sour Rings, isn't it."

The look in Guido's eyes says: you are unwell. Will doesn't need to be distantly related to Pegasus Himself to glean that much. Unfortunately, he's directly related to the God of Being Delusional, so this flies over his head.

"Okay, Guido, we are going to do what's called a Guided Thought Exercise. Are you ready? You don't look like you're ready. You need to take a Deep Calming Breath. Good. Okay."

Will closes his eyes for the Effect. He takes the thoughts his brain just constantly has of Nico -- smiling; Nico with his tongue poking out of his mouth, concentrating; Nico with sweat plastering his hair to his forehead, eyes glinting, sword a moving shadow; Nico hopping out of the window of Cabin Eleven, cackling as he is chased across camp by several furious, shouting, now-moneyless children of Hermes -- and envisions balling them up and tossing them out his ears. This, predictably, does nothing. Will ignores this failure and moves on.

"Guido, imagine for a second you are a regular, boring horse. You do not have cool wings like the rest of your friends. But it's cool 'cause you can gallop really fast. Maybe. And then one day, this other horse -- Princess Peach Sour Rings, are you imagining her -- comes in and this horse is just the most beautiful horse you've ever seen. Big, beautiful brown eyes, almost black, really, except when he stands by the campfire they glow like amber." Will clears his throat. "Uh, she, I mean. Princess Peach Sour Rings. And -- and, when this beautiful horse comes into the stable, you notice she has the most graceful wings you've ever seen and also coincidentally the most powerful kick in the land. And all she is valued for is her kick. And it makes you sad. Because the wings!"

Will pauses. He shifts so he has either hand on Guido's face, staring directly in his eyes. Guido allows it. Will cannot resist another smooch, tinier this time, right on his big snout. Then he pulls back and resumes eye contact.

"Guido," he says, seriously, "I have lost my metaphor. My brain is noodles."

Guido bumps his head softly against Will's. Will groans, leaning into the touch. Nico had accused Will of making him weak. Well, Nico makes him stupid. Constantly. Will is generally a really intelligent and articulate person. Nico makes him feel like his Wernicke's area has been pulled out with a fork. Which is an issue, because Will relies on his Wernicke area among others to do things such as brush his teeth and oh yeah, also surgery, because as Nico has so deftly pointed out this camp is broken. And also illegal. But Will has a job so he can't really be worried about that right now.

He screams.

Guido, gently, headbutts him. Will picks the letter up from the floor and shakes it violently.

"I am going to -- burn this," Will says, lying. He notices his fingers have creased the thick paper and rushes to smooth it out. "In a fire. Yes. Right now." He nods to himself. "Bye, Guido."

Guido does not respond. All well, though, because even if he could Will is too busy muttering to himself, tripping every forth step, scanning the looped cursive for hidden messages that are clearly not there. He kind of hopes if he holds the page up to the light then the words hey I should have kissed you before I disappeared for a hundred years that's my bad will appear, but this is all for naught. No such words appear. Only y's looped in a really gay way and that's stereotyping, it is, but they really do kind of follow the pattern.

"If you had kissed me I would have let you," Will says to the letter, because the only way he is saying that to Nico himself is if someone successfully clones his body and forces a microchip in his brain. "Like, just saying."

The letter, predictably, does not respond. This is perhaps for the best as if it did Will would have grander problems, which is saying something, because his mother fondly calls him Math Textbook, which is funny if hurtful. Anyways.

He makes it back to the middle of Camp, and stands for several minutes in front of a blazing brazier. There is if he is not mistaken a can of paint at the bottom of this one. That would explain the fumes. It would also explain the Chiron shouting at the grotesquely accurate spray-painted depiction of a penis on the side of the Big House and the various gathered Hermes children standing in smug Miranda-rights silence.

"It would be a great shame to burn you alongside evidence of a crime," Will says to the letter, solemnly. "Nico worked very hard to get you to me." He turns red as the sun as he says it and ignores it because he is well-rounded and developed and mature and emotionally available and adult and not emotionally repressed in any which way shut up Austin. "Maybe I will burn you individually, instead. Yes. More personal, that way."

He folds the letter carefully along the seams so as to conceal its contents from wandering eyes and marches with grand purpose, double time, to the Arts n Crafts shack. He notices the pottery wheel is out and twitches towards it, remembering the increasingly ugly vases he is creating and gifting to Chiron to see how long he will politely accept them before finally cracking, but remembers at the last moment that he is on a Quest and cannot afford any further distractions. He does take a quick second to flick a spot of paint on the back of Drew's neck but that is unrelated and cannot be traced back to him.

"Hi," he says, to the crowd at large. Lacy waves enthusiastically. Will waves back and makes a heart with his hands also because she is the best and Will loves her. "Does anyone have a lighter or a match or flint or something of the likes?"

Mitchell pauses. Will leans over to observe the jewelry box he is painting and nods in serious appreciation. He is very fond of the individual muscle veins being painted on Naruto's likeness.

"I am trying very hard to think of a non-terrifying reason you are so intent on a source of fire," Mitchell says gently, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "See, the way you have requested it reads arson to me, if you can imagine."

"What if I wanted to start smoking cigarettes."

"Hm."

"He could be learning lighter tricks," Valentina offers. "You know, put a bunch of hand sanitizer on and then set your hands on fire. The such."

Will nods enthusiastically. Mitchell somehow does not look assuaged.

"Aren't you a." He pauses, pressing his hands together. "Hm. Is lighting your hands aflame sanctioned by a medical professional such as yourself?"

"I think freedom of expression is important, yeah."

"...I see."

Will pats his shoulder. He continues to look alarmed, but returns reluctantly to his mostly naked Naruto painting. Will, as always, appreciates his endless support. Nobel Peace Prize for Mitchell Lastname 2013.

"So," Will continues, when no lighter is brought forth, "no flames?"

"No," says Valentina, sadly.

"No," says Mitchell, less sadly.

"If you're going to self-annimilate, do it elsewhere," Drew says, not sadly at all. She adds a careful dot of red paint to the grotesquely accurate depiction of Connor Stoll's decapitation. "I don't want the heat to dry out my hair."

"Self-immolate," Will corrects, and wanders off.

His search for a lighter produces no results. You'd think, in a Camp as oft-flammable as this one, the task would be an easy one, but Will wants it too badly, see, so the universe has punished him for the crime of hope. 'Tis likely why Nico did not kiss him, actually. Will pauses as he considers that Nico might not return if Will wants that too badly, too, just like his brothers, and gently and lovingly places that thought in the box in his brain labelled 'YIKES'. He pushes forward, humming.

"Nyssa," he says jovially, running into her. She pauses, eyeing him warily.

"You're not getting an alibi from me again, Solace. I don't want a repeat of..." She shudders. "Last time."

Will schools his face into a mask of sincerity. "Of course not, Nyssa, I would never, Nyssa, what do you take me for, Nyssa, I am only a boy, Nyssa." He is careful to cross his fingers behind his back lest he set off his allergy. Nyssa does not notice but seems to suspect.

"One day you're gonna suffocate," she says cryptically. Will inclines his head knowing she is correct. "It will be your own fault."

"I need a lighter," Will says, batting his eyelashes to change the subject. He makes his face as innocent and hopeful as he can manage. "Not for arson, I promise. Well, only kind of. The definition of arson is broad."

Nyssa sighs and walks away.

"No one in this Camp loves me," Will laments. He folds the letter back along its careful creases and tucks it, in its worn envelope, into the many beautiful and non-excessive pockets of his shorts, patting in gently. "I guess you get to survive, letter. You will remain the last manifestation of any affection Nico has for me as it surely fades for a cuter boy with nicer jeans down in the Underworld. How ye Gods are moved by my plight, and yet, none can break the ancient Sisters' iron decrees; doomed, by all Fate's accounts, for mine own torch to burn; down to embers, down to coal, down to ash; forgotten in the wind and reduced to the wind of memory; a weak, pitying blast in the stillness of the future."

The sun shines brightly in approval of his misery. Will shoots a thumbs up at it, sighs wistfully for at least seven seconds, to really seal it in, and follows the rest of the camp to the dinner bell. Percy only pouts sadly at him three times and then is easily distracted by dessert. None bring up the arson, although Mitchell watches with careful eyes.

Will sighs and sulks through dinner, pushing the food around his plate until he remembers he's ravenous and shovels it down. He rebuffs his siblings attempts at conversation by virtue of being too heartbroken to speak, not unlike Penelope, awaiting her beloved Odysseus, but then Kayla claims that bluegrass is a mid shadow of jazz and Will is so indignant he needs both hands and a borrowed third hand from Austin to properly list all the ways she's wrong. By the fiftieth stanza of their argument, obviously in couplets because they are not animals, the letter stops burning a hole into the khaki. By the seventieth, Austin starts weeping in misery, and he has almost entirely forgotten it. By the ninetieth, he resigns it to a hidden page in his journal, stashed under his mattress.

He is sure, anyway, that it is a fluke.

After all -- Nico could have kissed him, before he left.

But he didn't.

-- -- --

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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months ago

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Writing Notes: Anatomy of Letterforms

Aperture—the opening of a not entirely closed, somewhat rounded space within a character (such as in ‘c’).

Apex—the topmost intersection where two strokes terminate.

Arc—a curved portion of a stroke.

Arm—a horizontal or upward stroke that does not connect with a stem on at least one end.

Ascender—portion of the lowercase that rises above the x-height.

Axis—the imaginary line bisecting the upper- and lowermost points where a stroke becomes thinnest.

Baseline—the line on which the letters of a font seem to rest.

Beak—a serif-like terminal in some serif type designs.

Bowl—the curved part of a letter surrounding a counter.

Bracket—a curved or wedge-like connection between a serif and the main stroke.

Cap height—the distance from the baseline to the top of the uppercase letters.

Character—a symbol with a unique linguistic meaning, such as a letter, number, punctuation mark, etc.

Counter—the typically rounded negative space partially or fully enclosed by part of a letter.

Crossbar—a horizontal stroke bridging two other strokes.

Cross stroke—a typically horizontal stroke crossing the stem of the lowercase ‘t’ or ‘f’.

Crotch—the inner angle where two strokes connect.

Descender—portion of the lowercase which extends below the baseline.

Finial—the tapered terminal of a curved stroke.

Foot—the end of a stem or stroke resting on the baseline.

Gadzook—a decorative detail connecting the letters in a ligature but is not a stroke essential to either letter.

Glyph—a unique drawing of a character or characters as a single unit. (For instance, a single character may have more than one glyph, like the y’s below. Or there may be multiple characters in a single glyph, as in a ligature.)

Ink trap—additional space added where two strokes form an acute angle, done to avoid ink build-up in that spot when the character is printed. It’s a space designed to literally trap excess ink.

Joint—the place where a stroke joins a stem.

Leg—the short, often diagonal, downstroke of letters like ‘R’, ‘K’ and ‘k’, typically resting on the baseline.

Lobe—a curved or rounded projection from the stem or main portion of the letter.

Loop—the bowl below the baseline on a double story lowercase ‘g’.

Neck—also known as a collar or link, the stroke that connects the top and bottom portions of a lowercase ‘g’.

Overshoot—portion of a letter pushing just beyond a line of measurement to achieve the appearance of being the same height as comparable letters.

Sans serif—without serifs.

Serif—a small stroke added to the end of a main stroke.

Shoulder—the curve at the beginning of a downward stroke, such as in ‘m’, ‘n’, or ‘h’.

Spine—the primary curved stroke of the letter ‘S’ or ‘s’.

Spur—a small protrusion off a main stroke.

Stem—the main, typically vertical, stroke of a glyph.

Stroke—a line forming part of a written or printed character.

Swash—an addition at the end of a stroke intended to beautify or add other visual interest to a glyph beyond what is necessary to define a character.

Tail—the descending, often decorative, stroke of the ‘Q’, and sometimes ‘R’ or ‘K’.

Tittle—the dot on the ‘i’ or ‘j’.

Vertex—the bottommost intersection where two strokes terminate.

X-height—the height of the lowercase without ascenders or descenders, usually typified by the height of the letter ‘x’.

Terminal—the end of a stroke:

Abrupt—the stroke ends without taper or embellishment.

Ball—the stroke finishes with a circular shape.

Calligraphic—the stroke finish gives a strong indication of the shape of the writing instrument used to form the letter.

Foxtail—the end of the stoke widens before curving around and ending in a point, similar to the shape of a fox’s tail.

Lachrymal or Teardrop—the stroke finishes in a teardrop shape.

Wedge—the stroke has a serif-like wedge added to it.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

#typography #terminology #letters #writing reference #writeblr #dark academia #spilled ink #literature #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writing prompt #worldbuilding #light academia #writing inspiration #writing ideas #writing resources

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thou-babbling-brook · 2 months ago

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What a lovely day! I sure hope nothing bad happens to them! 🥰🤨

#assassin’s creed #ac unity #arno dorian #elise de la serre #arno victor dorian #ac fanart #art #my art #saw a reference on Pinterest I really liked so I made this #I haven’t done a background like this in forever but I’m hyped about how it came out #I was reading the ac unity novel and Arno’s letters to his father #I thought maybe Elise was feeling conflicted about recruiting Arno while bro has no clue what’s happening #also I really really am begging Ubisoft to stop emphasizing the sister thing JUST DONT PUT IT INNN 😭😭

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hyakunana · 6 months ago

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Sponsor Switch!

#kamen rider #kamen rider geats #kr geats #keiwa sakurai #kurama neon #michinaga azuma #ace ukiyo #ziin #kekera #kyuun #beroba #sponsor switch #tokusatsu #fanart #comics #comic #artists on tumblr #no beta we die like tohru lol #im pretty sure i'm not the first to make this though #THE POSSIBILITIES ARE mathematically not so endless but you get me #the major reason i've been postponing this idea was bc i didn't have a punchline for ace/beroba duo #but then on my rewatch i was reminded beroba was the one who changed michi's wardrobe so thx diva for saving my comic #but for real ace/beroba has huge potential to be explored but it was the hardest to make fun of lkjhgfdf #neon/kekera was a close second bc the princess and frog reference came quite late when i was already sketching it #meanwhile keiwa and michinaga are saved from the toxic sponsors but they're still uncomfortable lol #i mean wdym ziin can research ace's family tree and thats fine? boy has some creep potential #he's lucky that his canon rider is the star over stars over stars with 2k years of experience - he knows how to deal w fanboys #does kyuun's magic letter work outside of the lounge? does it matter tho?#is kyuun's letter me projecting my own fangirl side writing a letter to her fictional fav rider? does it matter tho?#holidays are over so time to catch up on my job! pls bear w my slow updates and happy new year <3

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valentinemesis · 2 months ago

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this is how candy crocker can still win

#ik james is his most popular tboy name but im thinking jack bc its 4 letters #and works as a reference to handsome jack which is half of my vision for this loser’s continued existence🙂‍↕️#almalexia inspiration is more complex but iykyk #jane crocker #homestuck #homestuck beyond canon #hs2 #hsbc

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bruhstation · 3 months ago

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various tugs ocs :-)

capo/captain/miss claymore is a figure from captain zero’s past that he desperately tries to forget. as mentioned in the picture, she is quite the imposing figure, and with her line of work, it’s a given that she’s as ruthless and cunning as one may expect. claymore and her men handle jobs that involve racketeering and smuggling, from weapons to booze, and back when she was younger (and still had a leash around captain zero’s neck which made her a source of extreme paranoia for him) she’s extremely adamant on how things should be done in her turf. after captain zero ditched his relations with her and left her to handle the smuggling business he haphazardly left behind, she has her sights on him and promised to give him the welcome back party he deserves, even going so far as wanting to invite his employees as well! how courteous of her.

zayin (in TUGS canon) is the newest addition to the z-stacks. although he’s a generally pleasant fellow and wants to be on at least good terms with everyone, zayin is protective of his self image – he makes sure he’s perceived as someone respectable and has a tendency of viewing others as beneath them (not that he’ll ever admit it, but the way he sometimes talk… shows). being a switcher, zayin takes up various jobs around bigg city port, and boy is he competent at them! they're one of the few z-stacks that zorran somewhat likes because they always get the job done and right and quick. nonetheless, he's often exasperated at how zayin quickly skedaddles to chat up the star tugs and continue his amicable relationship with them, especially top hat (whom he has a strange fixation on). zip and zug likes zayin for his friendliness, though, and he views them as charming yet pitiable beings.

#this is tugs #tugs oc #claymore (oc)#zayin (oc)#fortezza bigg city #senjart #dont be fooled by claymore's calm demeanor. she makes the z-stacks look like mickey mouse's clubhouse in comparison to her crew #still getting the hang of drawing vehicles with faces! I think I nailed it this time though #another pr*jmoon reference has hit the bruhstation towers #also fitting that zayin is the seventh letter in the hebrew alphabet and he can be seen as the seventh member of the z-stacks #(if we include captain zero)#also also because it sounds cool. And starts with Z.#the reason why I made him no. x is because I kept thinking of other z stacks ocs (that share the number 6)#so zayin's number being a common variable in maths makes it so people can see him as having whatever number there is #if they wanna keep other z-stacks ocs in mind too. if you get my drift #also also ALSO zayin may or may not be related to claymore.... tee hee

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dostoevskya · 9 months ago

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月島蛍 — WHO ARE WE TO FIGHT THE ALCHEMY?

꩜ [ haikyuu !! ] tsukishima kei x fem!reader

wc: 800+

–> first kiss; secret/private, but established relationship; soft bf!tsukki agenda grr

now playing… so high school by taylor swift.

“don’t i get a kiss for good luck?” he had teased before the game, referring to how she had firmly (but discreetly) pressed her lips to his cheek before his previous match the day before. “it’s kind of a tradition, isn’t it?”

her cheeks had burst into flames. “we’ll see, moonboy,” she replied. “just who do you think you are — percy jackson?”

the corners of kei’s lips spread into a small smile and his eyes gazed softly down at her. “only if you’re my annabeth chase. see you, shortcake.” he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, then promptly jogged off to line up with his team.

out of the corner of her eye, (name) could see a smug kiyoko subtly side-eyeing her.

—

the stadium was erupting in roars. after a long, painful five sets with shiratorizawa, coupled with kei’s injury in the middle of the game, karasuno had finally grasped victory.

the boys were piled on the floor in a tight, sweaty embrace. almost all of them were in tears. the seniors clawed on each others’ jerseys, crying out in relief and disbelief. kiyoko had her hands clasped over her mouth, a steady stream of tears flowing from her eyes. coach ukai and mr takeda (who was sobbing harder than sugawara, daichi, and asahi combined) cheered for joy. hinata was shining with sheer happiness, and even a hint of a smile could be seen on kageyama’s face. yamaguchi had been squashed underneath a pile consisting of tanaka, ennoshita, kinoshita, and narita.

all the way up in the stands, (name) found herself being bounced up and down in saeko’s death-gripped embrace, along with half-conscious yachi. ukai’s friends and kei’s brother, akiteru, had nearly thrown themselves over the railing, cheering and sobbing for all their worth. all of karasuno shrieked themselves hoarse in celebration.

tsukki, who had been tackled by nishinoya, wrestled himself away from the latter’s limbs. kei staggered to his feet and run a hand through his hair. he scanned the crowd to find his favourite person and grinned when his golden eyes fell on hers.

there’s my girl.

kei raised his hand toward the karasuno cheer box and pointed a long, skinny finger at (name), smirking boyishly. he turned his hand over and bent his finger twice, beckoning her to him.

she burst into an excited flurry of laughter, tearing herself away from saeko’s iron grip and bolted down the stairs. kei’s favourite jacket fluttered behind her as she made her way to center court.

there he was, in all his six-foot-two glory, looking back at her with so much adoration it hurt.

he came running over to her, and they met just after she passed the white line. (name) leapt into his hold and wrapped her arms around his neck, half-crying, half-laughing all the while. his big hands had a strong, steady grip on the bottom of her thighs and he smiled such a beautiful, genuine smile as he spun her around.

“oh, my god,” kiyoko whispered from the bench, hiding her giggles behind the clipboard. the rest of the team was too busy celebrating, but hinata noticed the two lovers and let out a strangled noise of surprise. up in the stands, akiteru and saeko whistled and hooted.

“there she is,” kei whispered breathlessly. “there’s my trophy.”

and with that, despite knowing there were over a thousand people in that arena, even though multiple TV cameras were trained on them, and though his team and entire school was watching, the rest of the world melted away for tsukishima kei and he kissed the girl, his girl, whom he would trade the stars and moon for.

karasuno’s cheers grew thunderously louder.

(name) smiled against his lips. “wasn’t i supposed to be the one who kisses you first?”

“yes, but this is our first kiss. both yours and mine,” he muttered in between kisses. “i’m the gentleman here.”

“if you say so,” she chuckled, rolling her eyes.

this time, she initiated the kiss, and tsukki let her tilt his head to the side to deepen it.

“you gonna greet me after every match like this, princess?” he asked when they pulled apart for breath, his eyes lidded.

“i don’t see why not.” she smirked.

their perfect moment was interrupted by a shriek.

“TSUKISHIMA!! DID YOU JUST KISS (NAME)!?” an astounded hinata hollered from across the court. he might as well have broadcasted it to the entire world, although, technically, japan had already seen their sweet moment on TV. little did tsukishima know, his mom was jumping up and down at home for joy.

“HE DID WHAT?” tanaka and nishinoya squawked indignantly. yamaguchi cackled. kageyama stared. sugawara whooped. soon enough, the whole team was ogling at them. even tendou from shiratorizawa seemingly forgot about their loss as he peeked through the net to see what the whole ordeal was about.

“ooh, spicy.”

…yeaaah. there was a lot of explaining to do.

꩜ a/n: woo! my first ever fanfic 😵‍💫 had this in my notes app since july but finally got the guts to post it lol. hope you guys enjoyed!

꩜ taglist: @snowthatareblack (my wifey and fellow tsukki girlie <3)

(lmk if you want to be added!!)

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please do not copy, edit, or repost any of my works. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.