WHY IS SO FUCKING HARD PUT A "FEM" IN FRONT OF THE "READER"???????

and lewis fans kept saying that max (and other drivers, but most were targetting max) was a pussy for not agreeing to quali ini this condition 💀💀

This was the puddle at T4

You can see how much water has pooled on the inside of the corner, even the best wet weather race tyres would have struggled

He's looking bbg

CHARLIE SPRING + OUTFITS Heartstopper (2022-) | Season 2

HEHEHEHEE OMG 😍😍😍😍😍😍

gift for @kwon5hi :)

both become true rb buddies😉

nah someone just reblogged one of my drabbles n fr said this:

AND THEN THEY DELETED IT (i think)

so you know i just had to

They say I'm crazy

Holy jishit

charles leclerc m4m audios?

or any sub audios of charles or arthur pleaseee ur doing gods work

Happy pride month to the popstar of Formula 1!

[M4M] Hey you, tonight I am helping you get off.

[JOI][Dirty talk][Good boy][French accent][Countdown][Handjob]

Creator Reddit: u/VoodooGWA

Read this before sending an audio request

混濁した気持ち掠れる燈

synopsis: before my good will crumbled away, i should have told you everything. those words play like a broken record in geto suguru's mind as he walks away from jujutsu tech knowing there's no way that he's going back. not after everything. he can't free himself from this, so why live the way that he wants before the chains bring him down and he loses himself? where shall i go tomorrow? his mind questions. but he knows he has no home, not anymore. his only home was you.

word count:

author's thoughts: i just needed to make this angst right after trying to make it a college!au, sorry to my friend who loves geto too much, and sorry to everyone who hates geto angst lol. but listening to akari is going to kill me and the english translation breaks my heartttttt ... you stupid monkeys. bring geto back to life or everyone dies right now by my hand. this used to be called 'メロンパンのキス' someone murder me

going to tag @aphelioszn @kaiserkisser and @h4nman <3 if you want to be part of my new taglist, just send me an ask!

if you'd like to be on my taglist for jjk or any other fandom that i write for (genshin, hsr, bllk, and snippets of my own new novel, red blood black skies), just shove an ask up my box!

it was around the later part of the year of 2006, you believe it was.

all four of you, the second-years, were stupid teens who didn't know a single thing about what they were doing, just going along for the fun of it. especially gojo satoru and his best friend, geto suguru.

the latter just happening to be the very same person that you looked up to, the very same person that you expressed strong feelings for.

it was a day when all of you were out with the first-years, cans of cola being passed around and the boys searching aimlessly under vending machines just for a precious glimpse of coins; spare change that the monkeys of the public did not wish to find.

you remember suguru screaming something about not being paid enough, and gojo telling him that he was from 'an underling clan' and 'broke' in bursts of jokingly irritating phrases.

you remember suguru taking none of it seriously, just hiding under the vending machine more, his hair messy and falling out of its bun. you remember going under there with him, laughing and searching for coins while the dust from the pavement and the underside of the vending machine littered itself all over the both of you.

it was just another day where the spring of youth beat down its warm sun on the crazy lot of you, another day of pure, serene immaturity. another day, where the sunshine that made up satoru, suguru, shoko, kento, and haibara would always tag along with whatever new stupid thing you were doing. all before everything else happened.

you wished those days would come back - especially that day. that day, when geto suguru taught you to kiss.

it was the same day that you were both hiding under the vending machine.

you brush yourself off, hands getting coated with a thin layer of dust, all coming off from your jujutsu tech uniform. "ew, the dust got all over me. how come you always manage to look so clean? you were there with me under the vending machine, weren't you?"

suguru looks back at him, raising an eyebrow. "oh? i thought i was pretty messed up as well. i guess i'm not alone now, y/n." his words drawl out, most probably because of the heat that radiates completely from the air around you, humid and almost dewy, sweet to the touch and taste. he smiles, and you swear that the world brightens up by a thousand times, at least.

then, suddenly, his hand's on your cheek, rubbing off some of the dust that was on there. it's a weirdly cliché scene, but it's a scene that you'll take - mostly since it's suguru doing it. but, oh, if it was anyone else, they'd be taking punches to their face and kicks between their legs. "you got a little .. somethin' on your cheek, so ... yeah."

you never thought that geto suguru could be awkward in any way. he was always so suave about everything he did, whether it was playing basketball with satoru, or whether he was disobeying yaga's orders. but right now, in this moment, he was awkward. sweat threatens to fall down his face, and not just from the heat of the atmosphere. suguru fiddles with his fingers, chuckling softly. you look at him, almost startled by the sound.

"what were you just doing?" you can hardly believe it, your lips hardly stretching apart to create the mere sounds of these words. "i mean, i'm not .. like ... saying that that was bad ... but still. what was that?"

"can you not get hints, or do you just not watch romance movies?" suguru brings you closer to him, and you grin.

"i can bet that you watch less romance movies than me, sugu. most of the time, you're on the hub. don't think i don't know you're watching girls get .. y'knowed ... out of their minds while pretending you're doing something cool with satoru." you sigh. "you know that stuff makes me uncomfortable."

"hey, look, if it makes you uncomfortable, then i'll gladly stop it. you're my first priority, y/n. even before shoko, even before satoru. heck, i'd give up my cursed technique just to make sure you're safe. not that i want it in the first place."

"eating balls made of curses is cool, though. also manages to give you some practise for the future, hmm? like kissing. i haven't ever kissed someone before, and when i do, in the future, i bet i'll be so bad at it that the person i'm kissing won't want to be with me anymore once they taste my lips."

"i'm sure that no one will do that. anyway, curses taste bad. like, really bad. like ... a rag that's used to wipe up vomit and shit, that's pretty much it. and as for the no kissing thing, how come you haven't kissed anyone before? you seem like a nice person - hell, the best person i've met in the jujutsu society. everyone else either just wants money, or are narcissists, or even more than that."

"yeah, i guess. but no one likes me in that way, not when they get to know me like you do. no one could ever."

"that's not true. that could never be true. i could prove that you're wrong, right here, right now." his stance straightens up, and suguru squares his shoulders slightly, eager to prove his point.

"and what do you mean by that?" you want your comment to sound teasing, but apparently, to suguru, it's a cry that you really can't get any of the messages that he screams at you with each action, each word, each letter. he's almost exasperated with you, until suguru realises - he can't be exasperated with you. every second, every minute with you is a refreshment to him, a reminder that maybe, not everyone out there is bad.

but sometimes, his second thoughts still take over.

"you really can't take any hints, don't you?" suguru smirks. "then ... let me teach you to kiss. so whatever or whoever's your future partner will know. you're good at smooching."

suguru makes this topic sound innocent, almost childlike, in a sense. but then again, you guys were old enough to talk about this stuff. it wasn't a time to put topics like love and crushes aside. you wouldn't get a chance to gossip about it when you were older, especially not when all of you were budding jujutsu sorcerers.

"so, what you're saying is ... you want me to practise kissing. with you?" it sounds like a lucid dream, one that you would make up in the middle of the night when your thoughts are just occupied by suguru and geto suguru only. it's a trend for you, but you never thought that it would actually happen in real life. suguru ... asking you to kiss him.

but it was only just a practise, right? it was nothing more than that. plus, the others were all off getting hamburgers or something. the whole scene was just suguru and you, so there was nothing to be ashamed about. of course, whenever anything was to do with suguru, there was never going to be anything to be ashamed or embarrassed about in the first place.

"yes? isn't that basically what i just said?"

"yeah. i just ... couldn't comprehend it for a second." suguru seems eager. way too eager for your taste. but who are you to reject it when it's a cute guy with cute raven-coloured bangs asking for a kiss?

it was just one, wasn't it? there was nothing wrong, and though your inhibitions told you not to, that they tugged at you and told you something was going to go wrong, you oblige.

"you initiate or i initiate?" suguru's question is straightforward, but you have a hard time understanding it. or maybe it wasn't the understanding bit, but rather, the acting bit. if you start the kiss, then it would be awkward, as you didn't know how to kiss. if suguru starts the kiss, on the other hand, it would always be awkward, because you didn't know how to kiss.

you point to him, seeing that there's no other solution.

he nods, almost as if he knows what he's doing (suguru looks like he knows what he's doing, in reality, he doesn't), and leans in, letting a hand escape to the back of your head and stay there, not willing to move. his other arm snakes around your waist, and you swear that a shiver runs down your spine at that very moment.

and, without even thinking about it, you wrap your arms around his neck. you two already look like a proper couple, and yet, it was just a kiss. just a practise, a tryout that suguru had decided to just ... pop the idea out of nowhere.

"three, two, one." his voice echoes in your ears with each countdown of each number, and you find yourself drowning in every tone, in every inflection that his voice creates, in an illusion of truth and false, a line in the sand that you can no longer make out.

and then your lips crash messily, and in that split-second, that fracture in time that can't be repaired, you realise, as well, that suguru has no experience in kissing. you don't know what he was thinking, getting you to believe that he was amazing at this subject and was going to guide you along the way to pressing your lips against someone else's, but in this moment, you realise that he's just a newbie.

but he's just as willing as you to kiss.

you both pull apart, and the only words that escape your mouth are, "you've never kissed someone apart from me, have you?"

and his only words are, "yeah. you caught me, y/n."

before you know it, another kiss comes between the two of you. and within the space of another minute, a few more. and a few more. and a few more, so many that you can't count. with each one comes a sense of improvement, a sense that things might get better with each love-filled sensation.

deep inside your mind, though, you know. this sensation won't last. this sensation will be a one-off, and then it'll never happen again. enjoy it while it lasts, l/n y/n.

after that moment, time seemed to just run away for all of you. there was no sense of days, weeks, months.

just the same little time loop, repeated again and again and again until you all dived into oblivion and crumbled into dust in what seemed like a shakespearean tragedy. no more was the blue spring of youth. it faded in all of your minds.

from what you recall, it all started with the introduction of act 1 of the 'amanai riko' play - the play that would soon evolve to become the 'premature death' play, and even more.

you didn't know anyone who would be brave enough to give up their whole position in life to become the star plasma vessel. master tengen was bad enough, so why would you just ... throw away everything for the sake of the jujutsu world? why not just live your life as a free person instead of dedicating your own heart and soul?

but you never got a chance to ask riko, and even in the times when you did want to question, it was already too late for that.

and, oh, the sounds were so loud. every shout, every scream, every fall from a building, every save, every cup of tea drank, every new person beat up by the best friend duo, everything. and those sounds only got worse as you headed further and further into the play. they rolled around and had fun in your mind, and only became louder with every step you took, every breath you heaved out.

if there was one thing that you knew about jujutsu sorcerers now, it was that they were selfish. and, before, you honestly thought that you weren't. but, usually, when a person thinks that they are not something, they most probably are. and it was too late, after he left, that you realised - you were just like the rest of them.

selfish. self-centred. unable to see what was going on around themself.

especially when it came to suguru. you failed to see just the direction he was going in. but how could you? he was fine during the mission, but the moment .. she .. fell down, dead, something snapped. but he still stayed around, so it probably wasn't that moment that made him make that choice.

it must have been something after that, you think. loneliness under crying, loneliness under crying, a cycle that he hid from the lot of you. it made you wonder - did suguru ever really trust you the way he should? did he see you as friends in the first place? or were you guys just people who would, in the end, disappear from his life?

bang went the gun. both you and suguru merely stare as the figure in front of you falls to the floor, landing on her side, a bloody patch forming on both sides of her skull.

amanai riko almost looks like a perfect little mannequin, except the fact that her headband has now been ripped by the sheer force of the bullet shooting through her head and exiting through the other side.

it was cruel. no, it was more than cruel. you could hardly describe the scene even years later; it was just too terrifying for anything of the sort.

if the context of riko dying wasn't existent, it would be almost comical and ... humorous ... to see suguru's expression change from a sweet smile, asking riko to come back with him to the upper world, to live the life that she truly wanted ... to horror as she tried to take his hand, but failed as she was shot. your hands drop to your sides, not sure what to do.

just a few seconds earlier, it seemed like .. it seemed that everything would be okay. that the light would take over the darkness and everything would be fine. you'd would get riko up there and you'd live your days happy - with satoru, shoko, kento, haibara - and of course, suguru.

just a few seconds earlier, you were actually relieved for once in your lifetimes.

suguru's eyes drift down to the girl on the floor, and within split-seconds, realise that there's no going back for her. even in this silence, he knows.

if he tries to save her, there's no point. but if he stands there, the guilt will end up filling his systems and overspilling. therefore, the only choice right now is to attack the guy that shot riko.

he looks at you, unsure. but you don't give him an answer, whether it's with your facial expression or your words. so you've changed as well, he thinks. maybe you weren't the right person, then. maybe you really just .. didn't want to be here with him and really was just using him for your own purposes.

maybe you really hated him, like how he thought that everyone else hated him. satoru looked like he liked suguru enough, but not enough to try and save him from this abyss, save him like a best friend should save their other best friend from something that was attacking them and eating them from the inside-out. but how could someone save someone else from their own persona?

suguru didn't know. they should have figured it out themselves.

in a way, sorcerers were just as bad as monkeys. it wasn't just the selfishness that all of them adopted for no singular reason, it was even more than that. it was the fact that they didn't care - didn't care about anyone else, whether they were close to the sorcerer themself or not. there was no way that they could care about anyone else ... because this world wouldn't allow it.

the moment you cared for somebody else, the 'silly' story that you were living ... just dissipated. everything would just crumble - all the goodwill, all the cheerfulness, and everything left was a barren land of regret and darkness. at least, that was what suguru now saw of the world.

maybe, once upon a time, he'd look upon your blushing face and laugh. once upon a time, he'd be content with what was going on, and smile along with the others. but now, when satoru asked him how he was, he'd say nothing. he'd hide in the shadows and use that darkness to try and cover up, try to erase all the curses that rose up inside of him.

every time he tried consuming a curse, it would come back to bite him in the ass. that power, all that power, would turn against him. suguru could feel it, crying out and writhing inside of him like there was no end. but there was going to be an end - just not for the curses, for him.

bang went the foot on his face as fushiguro toji stepped on him. suguru felt his consciousness waver, and his walls get wrecked. sleeping, sleeping, sleeping until the brand-new morning, his mind told him.

the brand-new morning, when he would finally be able to escape from the very same place that had sheltered him from the rest of his inner thoughts, and brought them away from him so that the ploy of 'geto suguru' would somewhat be sane.

he wished that everything would change. but no matter how much he wished, he wouldn't be able to change his feelings.

you cut the memory short. you don't want to remember that. your mind switches back to better memories - heated nights but nothing more than makeout sessions - hugs and cuddles - suguru benchpressing you while you read a book - the first time both of you got caught smooching each other by shoko and satoru - falling into suguru's arms as you failed to attack him using your cursed technique, and even more.

but there were times when he'd go missing - for longer than any of you would wish he'd go for. you knew his heart hurt - more than it should be hurting, but you never knew why. was it because riko died? was it because his apparent 'moral argument' wasn't really a moral argument after all? was it because you'd all pushed him to the brink and left him there, unable to help?

and suguru was only the first of the losses. your mind was unable to recognise anyone else that died - it was all a blur, a replaying of the recording of suguru leaving all of you. you wished that, the day that he met up with shoko ... you wished that that was you. you didn't know why you wished that he'd talk to you instead of shoko.

maybe it was because he was no longer comfortable with you, that he didn't trust you anymore. maybe it was because he knew that you would immediately try to fight him, to bring him back to the person that you knew he could be. but to suguru, he knew that he couldn't be a person that he'd left behind ages ago.

monkeys had changed him. so, in the end, the only thing he could do to make another one of those 'blue springs' was to massacre all monkeys and make sure none of them came back. 112 people, all gone.

there were so many more to go.

if it's worthless, then i'll just destroy it, his mind said to him that day. and, from then on, no matter who tried to call to him, they could never get him back.

geto suguru was no more than an illusion after that, someone who had no use for yesterday, only tomorrow, someone who had nothing to look for, had nothing left, someone who found no significance.

but if there was one, one single thing that he regretted, it was not telling you everything. everything, from the beginning, until the very end. would you accept him, then?

would you say the words that you were so obliged to say to him, or would you give suguru the answer that he dreaded so much? would it be a 'you aren't the only one going through this' or would it be a 'just who the fuck do you think you are?' or a 'are you faking this?'

you wonder, again, if this was all a ploy. you knew well enough that through his years at jujutsu tech, suguru had basically pretended to be the good kid. well, compared to satoru, anyone could be considered a good kid, so it wasn't a hard task.

but it was just something about him that made him different to the traditional class pet. was it his stupid bangs, or was it his deep eyes? was it his calm demeanour, or was it something more than that? you know that girls swarmed to him more than they swarmed to satoru (like that bruised his ego at all), but he never wanted them.

as you clasp your hands together, your mind slowly starts to malfunction, like the cogs and spirals that make up your brain have gone completely. it just might be a sign, you realise. a sign telling you that you should stop thinking about him.

because no matter how you try to picture it, and no matter how you try to make it seem better in your dreams, nothing will change.

a/n: shoko is an underrated character and i should have put her more in this fic ....... asdfghjjggff so much geto angst

No way they have the audacity to ask and do it in a disrespectful way 💀💀💀

Why Is your shit all male reader, I’m trying to look for female

then look up the female reader fics. you can filter out tags, y'know? you don't have to be a dick on anon. fem reader fics are fucking everywhere. just block me if you don't like my content.

besides, male reader is very uncommon in fandoms and i'm just providing more male reader content.

don't like it? disrespectfully fuck off and find another blog. i don't need this shit in my inbox. none of us mlm writers do.

and don't call my work "shit". i'm not the one with a stick up my ass because y/n has a dick. did you know... not everyone is afab??

shocking, i know. /s

I need to see charles be in redbull and in a red bull suit and livery asap

Charles: *puts a sticker to Max's back with words* Carlos: What's the words in the sticker? Charles: 'I love Charles and I know it.' Carlos: Ok then. Just hope he didn't get angry when he finds out. *2 days later* Carlos: How the fuck the sticker has not yet removed?? Charles: He probably found out already, but he likes it.

STRIKEOUT. ( PART 2 ) — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER

Summary: An after-party. A conversation-turned-confrontation. Kenji finally meets the esteemed Toyo Bullet and struggles to define the difference between anger, terror, and infatuation.

# # TAGS: Even More Tension, Kenji Has a Good Relationship with His Team, Intense First Encounter, Domestic Sato Family Shenanigans

# # WARNINGS: Mature Language, Alcohol Consumption, Nothing Too Crazy, No Beta Again We Die Like Onda

Note: Okay, here we go: the actual second part. Again, I am so sorry for accidentally publishing my draft earlier — I am ill with embarrassment. But I’m very happy to know that people look forward to it! If you read the false-post, then you’ve only read half of the chapter. This one has over 3000 words more! Enjoy.

“It was a nail-biter of a game here at the New Tokyo stadium tonight, folks. Right off the bat, both teams were going neck and neck, toe-to-toe. And it seemed like neither one was willing to give an inch! Our home team managed to pull off a narrow victory in the end, and by narrow, I mean narrow, Kiba.”

“That is absolutely right, Sasaki. I truly have never seen anything like it in my entire career. And you know- you know I know a lot of baseball. You know I’ve been doing this for many years, but wow! Just- insane.”

“Truly a close call. Eight additional innings? To break the tie? I cannot believe it. Let me tell you, neither the Hiroshima Toyo Carp nor the Yomiuri Giants wanted to lose today.”

“If you look at the crowd, It looks like everyone’s been wanting to go home.”

Exhausted was an understatement. Kenji hadn’t felt this drained after a game since, well, only months ago: when he was still juggling the responsibilities of raising a baby Kaiju, carrying the weight of being Ultraman, and maintaining his reputation as a well-known baseball player. All of these, on top of the sleepless nights, no longer hindered him from his work. He usually left the stadium feeling brand new every single time — regardless of whether they won or lost. He had grown and learned to lean on people, to ask for help, accept defeat. Which was good and all that, but the point was: he was exhausted from this game. You had him panting for air like an overworked dog.

Shimura had Kenji on the field for longer than he should have been. While his younger, more egotistical self might have loved his moment in the spotlight, running base to base for six innings in a row was unsurprisingly really tiring. The teams had hit a clean tie by the ninth inning, and the tie-breaker lasted for eight more. You were eating their rookies alive and having their journeymen for dessert. When Shimura realized that Sato was the only one batting your pitches, he had him play for every round after the tie. The only times Kenji wasn’t on the field was when you weren’t either. Which wasn’t a lot. It scared him how you looked like you could throw that ball for days.

“Hiroshima’s L/n is just- an absolute unit, isn’t he?”

“He certainly is, Kiba. He certainly is. I mean his performance was near inhuman tonight. Each pitch was a gem and we- he really wanted us to know that he’s here, he’s ready, and he’s willing to change Japanese baseball. He was a major force out there on the field.”

“I cannot agree with you more. But credit where credit is due, we all know that the only reason the Giants are coming home with tonight’s win is because of none other than Ken Sato himself.”

“That’s right, Sato really put up a fight. L/n was throwing him off balance every time, but he always found his footing. I think tonight might have been the hardest I’ve seen him work. You know he- he usually makes his plays look effortless — disregarding last season’s slump.”

“I say he held his own very, very impressively. The team was right to rely on him. I know we’ve spoken a lot about their tension, but I’d say it’s their dynamic that really drove the point home. They were like- mirrors of each other out there. When you put two equal forces together, they deflect. You know what I’m saying?”

Kenji’s hand shook with a weakness he wasn’t familiar with. He stared at his calloused palm and noticed his fingers twitching. Shit. It really was some game. He might have been hitting the ball, but he was barely getting it through the field. Not only were your pitches fast, but there was weight to them, too. He was witnessing the caliber of your capabilities; understanding why you were the talk of every city.

The rest of the Giants came walking into the locker room, jeering and laughing amongst themselves. “That L/n is a real piece of work, ain't he?” Shirakumo, number 24, sat himself next to Kenji, unlacing his shoe. “Never seen anything like it.”

“Did you see the look on Tateoka’s face?” Yuki laughed, smacking his thigh. “Dude was scared shitless!”

“Hey!” Tateoka frowned in reply, tugging his jersey off his arms. “You try standing in front of that guy and telling me you don't feel a little threatened.” He shuddered, remembering the look in your eyes. Dark and pointed and menacing. “He was staring me down like he was gonna—”

“Eat you alive?” Kenji scoffed.

The team went silent, then erupted into a cluster of teasing ‘oooh’s. God. It reminded him of highschool.

“Oohh, yeah.” Yamada, number 21, slid over to him with a teasing tone. He wrapped an arm around Kenji’s shoulder and squeezed him closer. “I don't think I've ever seen Sato so shaken!”

He laughed, playfully pushing him away. He was also actually really sore on that shoulder. Hell, he could already feel the pain he’d need to go through just to get up tomorrow. He was going to need another ice bath. The rest of the boys jumped in on the jokes.

“Did you see the way he was looking at you Ken?” Tokuda opened his locker, grabbing a shirt from the top shelf. He whistled. “Like he wanted your head on a plate.”

Tanaka chuckled. “He wanted you dead, man!”

Kenji rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Let's not get carried away. I never said I was shaken.”

“But that last bat was sweet as hell.” Yuki nodded. “I doubt any of us would've gotten through the guy if it weren't for Sato.”

“Well, duh.” Shirakumo shrugged. None of the Giants denied it. Ken was their star player. And tonight proved it more than ever. “We owe you for drinks, bud. Give us a date and we'll treat ya’ to someplace you like.” He slapped Ken’s back affectionately, which elicited a pained groan. “Shit, sorry.”

Kenji’s watch started beeping. He flinched at the sound, eyes widening slightly. “Uh, see you in a sec, guys. I gotta take this.”

He was there a moment, then gone the next. Kenji rushed himself out the hallways and into an empty locker room to answer Mina’s call. “Hey!” he greeted, anxiously. A screen projected itself from his watch and lit up his face. “Hey. Hi. What's wrong? Everyone alright? I know I said I'd be home soon, but the game took way longer than–”

He was interrupted by cheering. His father clapped and whooped with excitement as Emi occupied the background, screeching with glee. Kenji could see the ground shaking as she was jumping around and doing her special dance. One of Mina’s arms was protruding from the wall and waving celebratory flags. It immediately put a smile on his face, easing the tension from his shoulders. He was always happy to see everyone alright, and even happier to see them as their silly selves.

“Kenji!” cheered Hayao. “That was an incredible game! You were unstoppable!” The professor chuckled. Emi picked him up into a hug, slightly toppling the camera over. His legs swung like a ragdoll’s. “Okay, okay girl-”

Ken laughed, slightly shaking his head. “Easy, Emi. Put Grandpa down.”

“It was a very impressive game, Ken. Perhaps one of your bests.” Mina’s calculative yet affectionate voice echoed from his watch.

Hayao fell to the floor with an ‘oof’. “You didn't tell me you were playing against THEE Mets’ Bullet!” He scrambled to stand up, barely leaning on his cane. “I wasn’t even aware that he was signed into the Carp!”

Kenji’s smile immediately faded. “Okay.” He rolled his eyes. “He was alright, I guess. And we don’t actually know if he signed into it or if he was traded. We barely heard anything about him from the press.”

“Alright?” Professor Sato gasped, appalled. “Kenji, he was spectacular! He’s a lot like you, you know. I’ve always suspected that the both of you equalled in skill, but to see it in action? Phew.” He wiped some pretend sweat off of his forehead. “What a show! Eight extra innings to break a tie? Unbelievable! I highly doubt that he was traded. Who in their right mind would purposely lose a player like that?”

Kenji scoffed. “He wasn’t that good.” His sore limbs would like to say otherwise.

“He had you chasing after his pitches like a dog!”

“I don’t like that analogy.”

“I ought’ to rewatch that documentary they made about him. You know they’ve done studies on the physics of his throws.”

“Dad.”

“And how fortunate for Hiroshima to have gotten him out of all teams! I can tell that this season is going to turn around really fast. Just today he’s already scored-”

“Dad!”

“Oh. Sorry.” Hayao chuckled. “I’m just very excited to see the both of you on the same field.” Kenji sighed, nodding his head. “Anyway, congratulations on the win, my boy. I’m so proud of you. I always am. Get home safe. It may be late, but we still have a lot of leftovers from dinner!” Emi made a noise that let him know she was waiting, too.

Going home sounded like heaven. Ken wanted nothing more but to rest. Maybe kick back and have a chocolate shake while he and his family watched cartoons to fall asleep. It was the perfect way to end his night. It had been an unexpectedly long day and he looked forward to tomorrow’s well-earned break. Eight extra innings might even win him a second day of rest. Or a third, if Shimura agreed not to schedule him for the next game. Which, he doubted, if it meant you’d be playing.

“I’m on my way.” He ended the call, and opted to take the fastest way out, desperate to avoid the press.

Ken collapsed onto the floor, snuggling into Emi’s arm. Having washed up and eaten his dinner, he felt the last remains of his adrenaline-fueled strength die out like a dwindling flame. He felt as if his limbs were about to fall off. “Ugh,” he groaned. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.” Emi didn’t much care. She seemed to be preoccupied by the new ( gigantic ) stacking blocks that Mina made for her. Ken sighed, sinking deeper into her arm. “She always smells so good after her baths.” The baby Kaiju’s warm and heavy grasp felt like a weighted blanket. It was a comfort that Ken would find nowhere else.

Professor Sato walked past them, chuckling into his coffee mug. “That, she does. You should have seen her earlier, you know. I’ve never seen her so invested in a game.”

Kenji hummed. “Is that right?” He rolled onto his stomach, facing Emi. “Hey. Baby.” He poked her cheek. “Is that true? Did you cheer for Daddy? I bet you did.” Giving into his cuteness aggression he rubbed at her cheeks. Emi expressed her annoyance through a small squeak. “God, that mean old Bullet had Daddy running laps, didn’t he? We hate him, don’t we?” Kenji pushed her cheeks up and down, leading her into a nod. “Yes we dooo.”

Professor Sato laughed. “Whatever happened to sportsmanship?”

“Whatever happened to loyalty?” He pouted. “My own father, rooting against me. I would never root against you, Emi.” Wanting to return to her blocks, Emi lifted Kenji up by his torso and placed him on her head. The batter laughed, laying on her with no protest.

“What!” The professor exclaimed. “I never said I was rooting against you. I was just— feeling enthusiastic, that’s all. For both teams.”

Mina entered the room, her mechanisms humming faintly. “Good evening, everyone.” The Sato’s greeted her accordingly. “I have a message for Ken.”

The mentioned Ken slumped into his daughter, rolling his eyes. “Here we go. I bet it’s the press.” He scoffed. “Let me guess, at least 30 emails asking for my statement. Or, better yet, it’s Shimura warning me not to miss the next game.” He raised his fist, mocking a reporter’s tone: “We’ve witnessed baseball history tonight, folks! Blah, blah, blah.”

“Actually, it’s an invitation for something else.” Mina hovered closer. “An event.”

This caught his attention. Kenji tilted his head. “For what?”

“A party, hosted by various sponsors.”

“Bit too early for an afterparty, don’t you think?” Ken sighed, resting his head on folded arms. “We’ve only won one game.”

“I suppose it’s to celebrate Mr. L/n as well.” Mina would shrug if she had the shoulders to do so. “His coming to Japan is quite a big deal.”

“Great.” Kenji was half-asleep by then, eyes already closed. “All the more reason for me not to go.” The professor had settled himself onto one of the desks, getting into some light reading. Emi had grown tired herself, and decided that she was not interested in the blocks anymore. Waddling to her spot, (with Kenji still on her head), she yawned, and opted for some much-needed sleep.

Mina’s light blinked. “I think you should go, Ken.”

The rightfielder cracked one eye open. “And why would I do that?”

“I think it would benefit you to interact with Mr. L/n more.”

“Mina, that’s literally the last thing I want.”

“Is it?”

Ken frowned. “What do you mean, ‘is it’? Of course it is.”

“Your vitals seemed to say otherwise earlier.”

Kenji scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I was keeping careful watch of your vitals, as I always do. I have your daily status tracked and recorded.”

Kenji couldn't get rid of Mina’s voice in his head. Even amidst the warm crowd, with chatter swaying smoothly atop of light r&b music, he felt as if he could still hear her words ringing in the back of his mind. It remained vivid, though she had told it to him days ago. It was as clear as day. Like a broken record.

“Believe it or not, the heart beats differently for every emotion. There is a difference between fear, anxiety, excitement, and—”

Kenji stared at you from across the room, watching as you conversed with your team, nursing a glass of cold, hard whiskey. He watched as you bowed your head and smiled, listening for the faint, muffled sound of your laughter. He wondered what you were talking about; what joke might have made you grin that hard. He wondered why you seemed to illuminate a room, and why everyone seemed so drawn. His eyes were caught in the way the colorful lights sank into your hair.

“—Infatuation.”

You looked up, and your eyes met his. Kenji flinched. He felt his heart skip a beat. Shit, he thought. Mina was definitely going to catch that. She had probably already marked it down to tease him for it later. You held his gaze for longer than he could have standed and greeted him with that same annoying wink. The same one you gave him on the field. Confident, snarky, playful. You lifted your glass and took a sip, eyes still trained on his.

“What you may perceive as frustration for him might just be the opposite.”

Kenji's jaw clenched. Mina had no idea what she was talking about.

And he would prove her wrong tonight.

Like a soldier marching into battle, he waded through the party to make his way towards you. Was he intimidated? Yes. Unfortunately, he was. But he knew his way around a crowd, and his weapon-of-a-tongue knew all the right talk to make a conversation work. He was sociable like that. He was a poet, a wordsmith. If you weren't careful, one little exchange could have you wrapped around his finger. Some people called it his charisma, some blamed it on his irresistible good looks. Either way, Ken took it. He wasn't going to deny the fact that people loved talking to him — though he, admittedly, didn't really like talking to them in return. But he could do it. He could make it work.

Besides, how bad could you be?

With a newfound confidence, Ken dared to get closer. The distance between you and him lessened, and– oh, fuck, was that your cologne? He blinked. You smelled so good. Why did you smell so good? “Hey. Hi.” Shit. Abort mission. No, it's too late. Too awkward to back out. You were already looking at him. “L/n, yeah?” He spoke your name like he only just remembered you upon seeing you. When in truth, he hadn't stopped thinking about you since that damn first pitch. “Some game, huh?” Ken held his hand out for you to shake. ‘Fuck, I hope he doesn't notice how clammy it is.’

“Ken Sato.” It was the first time he heard your voice, as well as the first time he heard you say his name. He didn't like how his body reacted. There was a small shiver down his spine, a tingling flutter in his chest. You took his hand. Yours was cold. So cold. Kenji concluded that the icy glass of whiskey you had placed on the counter was to blame. He could feel your callouses against his. Your hands mirrored one another, marked with the battlescars of your sport. He was oddly sensitive to every detail. Touching you was.. a sensation.

You gave him a firm shake before promptly letting go.

“That's me,” he said, miraculously. Ken was oscillating between panic and confidence at a speed that likely wasn't normal. He was holding his own, though. Like the real champ he was. It was surreal to be standing in front of you without a ball to keep you apart. No bat, no competition. Just you, and a few shots of alcohol. “You adjusting into Japan alright?”

“As well as I can.” You shrugged. You had a tone to you; an elegant air of grace and self-assurance. You had no need to raise your voice because you knew he'd do his best to listen. It was pissing him off. “It's definitely different from the States.”

“I gotta say, I'm pretty surprised to see you here.” Ken usually knew what to say when it came to conversations. He never blanked out at interviews, nor left dead air hanging at conferences. But speaking with you made him feel like his vocabulary was on a limit. “After a game like that?” He whistled. “A lesser man would've taken a week off.”

“But we're not lesser men, are we, Ken?” A waitress passed by. Without the need to look, you had grabbed two shots of vodka from her tray. You handed the other one to him. “That's why you're here, too.”

He stared at you, brows furrowed slightly. “Exactly.” He took the shot from your hand and bumped the rim against yours. “Cheers.”

You grinned. “Cheers.”

Kenji tilted his head back, downing his drink, tasting the fire run down his throat. His face screwed up a little, but not enough for you to notice. You did the same, sighing the heat out of your nose. You allowed a small laugh to slip past your lips. “Japan’s liquor is surprisingly stronger.”

Kenji chuckled. “Yeah. If you know where to look.” The music felt like it was growing louder. He leaned in to speak to you better. “You know, I can't believe this is the first time we're meeting.”

You nodded. “Neither can I.”

“The Mets and Dodgers have always been at each other's throats, and yet—”

“Our schedules just never lined up.” You scoffed. “What are the odds of that, huh?”

It really was such a coincidence. If Ken had known that your interactions would've fired the press up as much as it did now, he would've fought to face you sooner. “When was it?” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “Playoffs. 2019, I think. The Mets were set to face the Dodgers.”

“2019,” you repeated, brows raised. “I was there.” Kenji took notice of the way your head slightly shifted to the side. Like you were trying to get a better look at him. He swallowed thickly. “I was there.” You shrugged. “You weren't.”

“I was overseas.” He was wanting another drink. But, speaking to you was surprisingly not horrible. “Didn't get back until 3 months in. And when I did—”

“I wasn't there,” you chuckled. “Alright. I remember. 2019, I was gone for half the season. Injury.”

“The world was in shambles.” Ken grinned at you. A second waiter passed by. He grabbed you another glass of whiskey. He took scotch for himself. “See what I mean? It's like– divine intervention.”

“Big word.” To say that fate had a hand to play in yours and his meeting was beyond your beliefs. You didn't place your trust in things like that. But to know that he had thought about it was charming.

“Hey.” Ken shrugged. “Ya’ never know.”

The music shifted, and so did the lights. There was a moment of quiet between the both of you, and in that time, you found a common interest in people-watching. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, nor the absence of something to talk about. The two of you merely agreed upon the minutes it took to watch the party unfold. A good number of the guests were already drunk. The dance floor was alight and occupied mostly by women. Ken rested his weight on one foot, sighing at his still-aching muscles. He wondered if you were any sore too.

“They love it, don't they?” You leaned your back against the counter, arms crossed over your chest. Ken took quick notice of the necklace worn loosely around your neck. A silver dogtag, similar to his. “The drama. The intensity. Even the things that go on beyond the field.”

Ken shrugged. “It's baseball. Who doesn't?”

“Exactly.” You smiled. “Which is why it's important to always let the home team win the first game.”

It took a moment for Kenji to process what you said. He was distracted by the colorful lights, his favorite song coming on, and a tray full of hors d'oeuvres. “Mhm.” He reached over to take one, before— “Wait.” His brows knitted together. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Hm?” You had your lips pressed together into a thin line. Your expression feigned innocence, a stark contrast to your bold statement. “I said it's important to let the home team win the first game.”

Kenji made a sound between a scoff and a laugh. He couldn't believe his ears. Had he been standing by the speakers for too long? “No, I heard what you said. What I'm asking is what you're saying.” It was a dare of a reply, with a tone that commanded: go on. Clarify.

Your smile refused to leave your face. Nearing the batter, ever so carefully, you whispered:

“I'm saying you won because I let you.”

Kenji blinked.

And there it was. He knew you were too good to be true. Goddammit, he knew it! Beneath your seemingly-perfect self was something cold and rotten and he called it. He fucking called it. How thrilled he was to be correct, and oh, how utterly terrified.

But this was good. This was absolutely good. He needed something to hold onto, something to keep himself afloat. The next time he found himself drowning in your eyes again, he'd only need to remember that you were a grade A asshole. That you had the audacity to claim that you were in full control of the game. Surely it would solve all his problems.

Kenji broke out into a laugh. It started out as a small cluster of sarcastic chuckles, but erupted into actual laughter. You were funny. So, so funny. Unbeknownst him, you were watching with amusement. “Because you let me!” Kenji repeated, smiling, but, exasperated. Two can play at that game. “Right. Of course. Totally not because you're an average pitcher and I can bat anything you throw.”

“If that helps you sleep at night.” You shrugged. Your attention wasn't on him anymore. You were watching the crowd, disinterested.

Kenji felt his eye twitch. “That's big talk coming from someone who got struck out by a rookie.” He was referring to the eighth inning, when Tateoka managed to bat your pitch into a homerun.

“That's right, Sato.” You laughed, low and sultry. “Batted by a rookie. How could I have struck you out at the last inning but be batted by a rookie?” You tilted your head at him, brows knitted together. You spoke in a sickeningly soft tone. Like you were helping a toddler understand something simple. “Doesn't seem to make a lot of sense, does it?”

Kenji was growing flustered. His face was warm and his fist was itching to meet your cheek. Nobody spoke to him this way. Sure guys had been mean to him before, but it was mostly because they were threatened by him. They'd tried to put him down and pick apart his flaws, but what you were doing was something different. You weren't claiming that he was weak, you were claiming that you were stronger. You didn't deny the amount of talent that Ken had in his body, but you were fully convinced that you had more. You were bigger, smarter, and better. And you had him under your control.

“Oh, c’mon. Seriously?” God, your voice. It infuriated him. It drove him insane. You leaned in, closer, whispering your words, as if hearing you through the party wasn't hard enough. He could smell the whiskey on your breath. It mingled with your cologne. It was intoxicating. “Are you blushing?”

He scoffed in disbelief. “No.” Except he totally was. He could feel the heat radiating off of his face. His breathing had gone shallow, his heartbeat rapid. “Why would I– Tch. You— You don't know what you're talking about.” Holy shit. He was a mess.

He wanted so desperately to blame it on the alcohol, but he knew damn well he wasn't drunk enough to be acting the way he was. He was stumbling over his words stone-cold sober.

You were smiling. He was dying, and you were smiling. “You amuse me, Sato.”

Ken took a cautious step back, knowing that being that close to you for too long was only going to make him worse. “Who the hell do you think you are, huh?” He had to retaliate somehow. Like a soldier fumbling for his sword, he had to get up and do something. “You don't think I don't know what this is? Where you're heading?”

You tilted your head. “Do enlighten me.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Sure. Celebrity-Athlete from America waltzes into Japan thinking he's the shit— that he can rule the world. He's a shiny new toy and everyone's just dying to catch a look. Nevermind that his old team traded him off, nevermind that he goes home to an empty penthouse. He's got the stats to prove his skills and he thinks he doesn't need anything else.” Ken dared to retake a step forward. He sort of regretted it when you didn't take a step back. “Well, guess what,” he continued. “I've been where you are. I know how you feel, what you're thinking.

Everything you're trying to be is a shadow of what I already was.”

There was a beat of silence. You weren't smiling anymore. You were staring at him, stone-faced, seemingly indifferent.

Kenji narrowed his eyes. “So don't go talking to me like you're any better.”

He didn't know what to expect. You were quiet for such a long time that he thought you were going to snap. He partially expected a punch to the chin. But you were calm. There wasn't a trace of irritation on your face. Instead, you set your glass of whiskey — now empty — on the counter behind you. With a sigh, you shoved a hand in your pocket. “Are you done?”

Kenji blinked.

“Let me tell you something, Sato.” You raised a brow at him. Ken felt his heartbeat pick up again. Your once-approachable gaze shifted into something cold and commanding. He swallowed thickly. “There is a difference between you and me. And that difference is the fact that I don't settle.”

Kenji was glaring at you, brows fixed together.

A teammate called you from the other side of the room. You nodded at him, once, then returned your focus to the Yomiuri Prince. You placed a hand on his shoulder, tauntingly, smiling at him as if you'd known him your whole life. “I hope last season’s slump accustomed you to the feeling of losing those points.”

Kenji wanted to say something, but his lips refused to move. Somehow, the blaring music in the background had faded into a muffled blur. All he could hear was your voice. Like a moth to a flame.

You winked at him. Again. And like before, his body reacted in ways he didn't like. You squeezed his shoulder once, before leaving to go to your friend. With your back turned against him, Kenji released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He clutched his chest, watching wide-eyed as you moved through the crowd. He could still smell your cologne. The last thing he heard from you was,

“I'll see you on the field.”

taglist: @fairy-lenaa @moonjellyfishie @witchygod — Thank you for your patience!