Lapse In Judgement (Osamu X Reader)

is taglists open, sorry if it’s not ,,,

the reborn taglist is still open! If u were talking about taglists in general those are open too, so no need to be sorry🥺

Language of Love (Akaashi x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Speaking French in front of your crush was not as discreet as you originally thought. Maybe you should just start texting from now on… 

A/N: I’m so thankful for the growth that has happened to my account in the small span of 48 hours! Here’s a short imagine that I got an idea for from this prompt by @writ-ing-promp-ts​. Akaashi is really OOC, so I’m sorry. And I also kinda rambled on too long in the first part, but oh well, I’m a lil tired. Enjoy! :) 

Word count: 1240

        The courtyard of Fukurodani was beautiful, to say the least. It was springtime, and you sat just below a freshly-bloomed cherry blossom tree. The pastel pink petals surrounded you either on the grass or floating with the wind. The flowery scent you inhaled was barely noticeable over the cold breeze it accompanied. The sun shined, birds chirped, bees buzzed, and you… well, you were jabbering in French to your sick best friend over the phone. You were sweating like a pig thanks to the topic of conversation, and occasionally flapped your arms up and down like the chicken dance just to dry off. Gross, right? Yeah, you thought so too. But the anxiety of talking about a crush in any language was enough to provoke undesirable side effects. 

        Setting down your phone to take off the hot blazer that was just making everything worse, you whined into the microphone, “Il est tellement attirant que je pourrais mourir. (He is so attractive that I could die.)” Your hand caught in a sleeve, so you began screeching at the jacket you were currently wedged in and attracted some unwanted attention. You nervously smiled at your fellow classmates before laughing and shrugging at your own predicament. Giving you sneers, they exaggeratedly stepped away from your general area before  exiting through the school’s gates while whispering among themselves. The smile on your face dropped into a snarl as you pulled with all your might on the stupid mandatory blazer. 

        Not realizing you were currently busy, your ever-so-sympathetic friend replied, “Arrête d'être un bébé et avoue déjà. Tu es trop dramatique. Il ne te mangera pas. (Stop being a baby and confess already. You are too dramatic. He won't eat you.)” Letting out a loud “Guh” as you finally escaped the human trap, you threw the evil jacket away from you and pouted. 

        “Je ne suis pas trop dramatique. (I am not too dramatic.)” You slumped back onto the rough bark of the tree and exhaled heavily. 

        “Alors arrêtez d'être un tel wuss et dites-lui! (Then stop being such a wuss and tell him!)” your friend demanded, and your phone shook at her volume. You understood her impatience; after all, you had harbored a crush on Akaashi for the past year now, and the only person who stood to take earfuls of your gushing was her. Overall, you were thankful, but that didn’t mean you weren’t shy. 

        “Mais que dois-je faire si Akaashi me rejette? (But what should I do if Akaashi rejects me?)” you mumbled softly, fiddling with the edges of your skirt. Your friend sighed heavily, but you were surprised at the gentle tone in her response. 

        “Tu fais ce que tout le monde dans le monde a fait. Tu t'en remets et trouvés quelqu'un de nouveau. C'est la seule solution. (You do what everyone else in the world has done. You get over it and find someone new. That's the only way.)” Her logic had always pissed you off anyway. Scoffing at the blatant statement, you began to pick at the dirt under your fingernails. Your eyes were saddened, and your shoulders slouched while you bounced your knees up and down in front of you. What ifs, all the what ifs ran through your head, and your heart pained in imaginary sadness at the scenarios. Your friend’s voice dragged you out of your thoughts once more.

        “YN, l'aimes-tu? (YN, do you like him?)”

        “As-tu vraiment besoin de demander? (Do you really need to ask?)” 

        “Alors c'est la seule raison pour laquelle tu devrais lui dire. Ne continuez pas à y penser pour toujours, faites-le. (Then that’s the only reason you should tell him. Don’t keep thinking about it forever, do it.)” Her words carried in the wind like an echo, and a breeze blew past your face, brushing away the stray hairs. Tapping your finger on your chin, you thought it over. It had been months, and you really did like him. He was always nice, and his bare-boned humor made you laugh. And no one could deny that he was truly attractive. 

        Hesitantly, you agreed, “D'accord. Je le ferai. Je vais lui demander de sortir. Souhaite moi bonne chance. (Okay. I will do it. I'm going to ask him to go out. Wish me good luck.)”

        “Bonne chance mon amie. (Good luck my friend.)” She sounded smugly victorious, but ended the call before you could berate her about it. Sighing exasperatingly, you dropped your head back harshly onto the base of the tree. Your hands dropped to your sides and nervously picked at grass while peering up at the pink branches above your form. 

        “Hey YN. You were speaking French just now, right?” Oh crap. Akaashi. A woozy feeling erupted right in the center of your head after you stood up too quickly to face him. Refraining from rubbing the pain away, you settled for a hasty nod at his question, not trusting your voice at the moment. 

        “That’s cool, you sounded pretty fluent too.” His voice was flat, but you had never heard it any other way, and that fact had never stopped the blush that rose on your face in his presence. It certainly didn’t stop the flush now. Suddenly, you remembered your friend’s words. Do it.

        “Well, you know, I-I could teach you some time,” you stuttered out. Hiding your shaking hands behind your back, you apprehensively smiled at him, but faltered when the corner of his mouth quirked up. His eyes glimmered at your suggestion while he suddenly grew smug. Your brows furrowed after he rolled his shoulders and placed his hands in his pants pockets, while his chest seemed to puff out. Was this really Akaashi?

        “That’s okay,” he retorts, “I already know French.” Excuse me, what?

        Your eye began to twitch and the smile on your face dropped. Blanching at his words, you hesitantly asked, “W-well, um, how much did you hear?” 

        “Enough.” He smiled softly at your amazed expression, chuckling behind his hand. Who the f**k is this guy?!

        “Oh. Ohhhh. Look, you might have misunderstood a couple of our words,” you sputtered. Akaashi was different today, it seemed. He was showing emotion, a lot of emotion. You choked on air when his own cheeks pinked as he stepped toward you. Staring at the petals he had crunched under his shoes, you mumbled, “We don’t really know the language that well, so you might have misheard a sentence or two. We definitely weren’t talking about you, that’s for sure-”

        The rest of your anxious rambling died on your tongue when he suddenly grinned at you. Ever so slowly, Akaashi caught a lock of your hair blowing in the wind and curled it around his finger gently. He was nervous too, you realized. But your breath caught in your throat when his gaze suddenly shifted and intercepted your own. Softly, he whispered, “Je t’aime bien aussi. (I like you too.)” 

Avatar: The Last Airbender/Legend of Korra Masterlist

☔ = Angst

🌦️ = Angst to Fluff

💥 = Crack

☀️ = Fluff

💋 = Smut

🖤 = Yandere

🔔 = Request

🟪Imagines🟪

Sokka:

■  Baby Fever 🔔💋☀️

You were great with kids, and it just so happens that your husband Sokka wants to give you a few of his own.

Warnings: Pure smut, breeding kink, dirty talk, unprotected vaginal sex, (slight??) cum play

Zuko: 

■  Hot With Envy 🔔🖤💋

After seeing you laugh with another man at his five-year reign celebration, Zuko must show you who you belong to.

Warnings: Possessive sex, dirty talk, vaginal sex

~~~~~~~~~~~~

🟣Headcanons🟣

Mako with Dragon!Hybrid Airbender Reader 🔔🌦️

Yandere Desna and Eska Headcanons 🔔🖤

Yandere Ozai Headcanons 🔔🖤(slight 💋)

Yandere Sokka Headcanons 🔔🖤

Yandere Zuko Headcanons 🖤

CHARACTER FACIAL EXPRESSIONS (WRITING REFERENCE)

EYES/BROWS

his eyes widened

her eyes went round

her eyelids drooped

his eyes narrowed

his eyes lit up

his eyes darted

he squinted

she blinked

her eyes twinkled

his eyes gleamed

her eyes sparkled

his eyes flashed

his eyes glinted

his eyes burned with…

her eyes blazed with…

her eyes sparked with…

her eyes flickered with…

_____ glowed in his eyes

the corners of his eyes crinkled

she rolled her eyes

he looked heavenward

she glanced up to the ceiling

she winked

tears filled her eyes

his eyes welled up

her eyes swam with tears

his eyes flooded with tears

her eyes were wet

his eyes glistened

tears shimmered in her eyes

tears shone in his eyes

her eyes were glossy

he was fighting back tears

tears ran down her cheeks

his eyes closed

she squeezed her eyes shut

he shut his eyes

his lashes fluttered

she batted her lashes

his brows knitted

her forehead creased

his forehead furrowed

her forehead puckered

a line appeared between her brows

his brows drew together

her brows snapped together

his eyebrows rose

she raised a brow

he lifted an eyebrow

his eyebrows waggled

she gave him a once-over

he sized her up

her eyes bored into him

she took in the sight of…

he glared

she peered

he gazed

she glanced

he stared

she scrutinized

he studied

she gaped

he observed

she surveyed

he gawked

he leered

his pupils (were) dilated

her pupils were huge

his pupils flared

NOSE

her nose crinkled

his nose wrinkled

she sneered

his nostrils flared

she stuck her nose in the air

he sniffed

she sniffled

MOUTH

she smiled

he smirked

she grinned

he simpered

she beamed

her mouth curved into a smile

the corners of his mouth turned up

the corner of her mouth quirked up

a corner of his mouth lifted

his mouth twitched

he gave a half-smile

she gave a lopsided grin

his mouth twisted

he plastered a smile on his face

she forced a smile

he faked a smile

her smile faded

his smile slipped

he pursed his lips

she pouted

his mouth snapped shut

her mouth set in a hard line

he pressed his lips together

she bit her lip

he drew his lower lip between his teeth

she nibbled on her bottom lip

he chewed on his bottom lip

his jaw set

her jaw clenched

his jaw tightened

a muscle in her jaw twitched

he ground his jaw

he snarled/his lips drew back in a snarl

her mouth fell open

his jaw dropped

her jaw went slack

he gritted his teeth

she gnashed her teeth

her lower lip trembled

his lower lip quivered

SKIN

she paled

he blanched

she went white

the color drained out of his face

his face reddened

her cheeks turned pink

his face flushed

she blushed

he turned red

she turned scarlet

he turned crimson

a flush crept up her face

WHOLE FACE, ETC.

he screwed up his face

she scrunched up her face

he grimaced

she winced

she gave him a dirty look

he frowned

she scowled

he glowered

her whole face lit up

she brightened

his face went blank

her face contorted

his face twisted

her expression closed up

his expression dulled

her expression hardened

she went poker-faced

a vein popped out in his neck

awe transformed his face

fear crossed her face

sadness clouded his features

terror overtook his face

recognition dawned on her face

SOURCE

Uh, hey! Could I request yandere Shigaraki, Bakugou and Kaminari trying to get their darling a dog but it backfires cuz their darling is terrified of dogs? Thanks in advance :)

He Gets You a Dog but You’re Afraid of Dogs (Yandere BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: This is literally the first post I’ve ever made on the road. Y’all, I gotta be honest, I’ve been down in the dumps for the past couple days, so I’m sorry if my mood has been reflected through my stories. Nonetheless, I really hope you all like this one! (Btw, love this request!)

Word count: 2098

Shigaraki Tomura:

Shigaraki notices right away that you weren’t your usual self. Before he ambushed you and took you captive, you were always happy-go-lucky and would smile like no tomorrow.

Somewhere along the line, though, you had changed. Maybe it was that he kept you chained to the bed 24/7. Or maybe it was that you only got to see the sunlight once every two weeks. But surely it wasn’t that he forced you to give him a hug and a kiss every time he entered your room.

No. You loved that tradition just as much as he did.

So maybe it was because you were lonely. Shigaraki noticed that he had to leave you alone more often than he wanted to because of League business, but he also knew that their lair wasn’t exactly a lovely setup.

The TV in his room never brought back the light in your eyes. Nor did the loaded bookshelves. No radios or music or anything made you as enlivened as you were.

But then an idea struck him.

Humans were social creatures, and the only person you communicated with was him. No, of course he wasn’t going to let you talk to another person, that would drive him insane. But Shigaraki knew animal companionship would be just as good.

The adoption center emptied out at the sight of a man covered in disembodied hands, so thank goodness Shigaraki didn’t have to fight over other people for the puppy of his choosing.

A german shepherd was his choice. Obviously a reject because of its older age, the dog was fully grown and was over a third of Shigaraki’s height. It was a trainable beast that would be adorable in your eyes. The perfect option for both of you.

The dog didn’t resist being picked up and dropped out of the pen. Shigaraki snagged a leash off a shelf on his way out, and soon they were both on their way.

Back in the villain’s lair, the others threw him weird looks but kept their mouths sewn shut. They all knew about you, the poor girl locked up in his bedroom like a playtoy, but they weren’t stupid enough to go against Shigaraki.

He didn’t bother to knock on the door. Instead, he barged in and sniggered at the sight of you, passed out and snoring in his bed. The shirt you wore to bed last night was his, and he licked his lips at the sight of it barely covering your upper thighs.

A delicious surprise.

Shaking his head out of his thoughts, Shigaraki picks up his dog and lugs it over to you.

“YNNNN. Wake uppppp.”

You grumbled in resistance, but your eyelids fluttered open anyways.

“Mmm, Tomura? What’s…” you trail off in a yawn and rub the sleep away from your eyes, trying to figure out if the sight before you was real.

You didn’t need sight to know; the german shepherd panted and licked your face before you even got a good look at it.

“OH SHIT!” you cried out, rolling to the other side of the bed before falling to the floor and crawling to the corner of the room.

Shigaraki watches your movements with raised brows, then his mind rattles at the sight of you tearing up and shivering in the corner.

“G-Get the dog out of here!” You point with a shaky finger. “...please?”

He’s still frozen in shock, eyes locked on where you had previously sat before he hears you whimper. This prods him to jump into action.

Hastily, he leads the dog out into the hallway and lets it run loose, all before coming back inside and closing the door.

“Better?”

“Better,” you nod, forcing yourself to give him a smile. Shigaraki sighs and makes his way over to you, plopping himself down on the floor so he can see your face.

“So… dogs huh?”

“Yeah. I’m not really their biggest fan.” The villain nods solemnly.

“... so we can’t keep him?”

Part of you is surprised that he even asked, but the other part of you is screaming to take it and run.

“No, please.” He purses his lips and glances at the door.

“All right,” you flinch at the feeling of his hand cupping your cheek. “I’ll get rid of him.” There’s a dangerous glint in his eye.

“But you owe me, darling.”

Bakugou Katsuki:

As much as he hated to admit it, Bakugou knew you weren’t really happy.

Trapped and locked away in the house day-in day-out was wearing on you. Though you hadn’t lost your fire, you still weren’t joyful like he had been used to back in UA.

After kidnapping you the minute you both graduated, he kept you held up in his new house where nobody could take you away. But he hated to see you so unhappy.

So he decided to get you a dog. Oops.

“YN, come down here.” He dragged in a dog that was perfect for both of you. It was a pitbull, a vicious little thing that was still gnawing on the leash when it entered the house.

“What do you want, dickhead?” You sniggered. Pissing off Bakugou was usually the highlight of your day, since you had learned early on that his threats of hurting you or punishing you for pushing his buttons were all empty.

You made your way down the stairs, narrowed eyes darting around then locking on the front door where Bakugou stood with- oh fuck.

“You’re welcom-”

“AASJSHFHS!” You choked on your own spit and darted back up the stairs, tripping half way and crawling up the rest like a panicked seal.

The smirk on Bakugou’s face fell in an instant as his mind went blank.

What just…

Then his brows furrowed as he glanced down at the dog, who, by now, was sitting perfectly still at his side with a tilted head. It let out a whimper and Bakugou nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, you and me both buddy.”

Thankfully, Mr. Sunshine isn’t dim enough to take the dog with him upstairs to confront you; instead, he ties its leash to the stair railing before making his way up.

“YN?” He knocks on the bedroom door. In the beginning, he thought it was almost cute of you to think that you would get to sleep alone. He was glad how quickly you adjusted to sleeping in his arms.

“FUCK YOU!” you cry out, voice cracking and trembling. You were crying.

Bakugou grows angry at your implication. He wasn’t trying to scare you!

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU DON’T LIKE DOGS?!”

He barges through the door and finds you hugging your knees to your chest on his bed. You’re huddled against the headboard, and even Bakugou can see from the entryway that you were trembling.

Another yell dies on his tongue when he spots a tear slipping down your cheek. His heart stutters at the complete, unrestrained fear in your eyes.

Adam’s apple bobbing, he makes his way over to you and sits down on the mattress, laying an apologetic hand on your kneecap.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were afraid.”

“It’s okay.” It damn better be.

A thumb of his wipes away a stray tear on your cheek and his body grows warm at the contact. He wasn’t much for loving communication, but God did he love touching you.

“I’ll bring it back to the pound right now.”

You nod in thanks and purse your lips as he rises. Suddenly, a hand of yours darts out to grab his. He turns back to you with a raised brow.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki. I know you might’ve really liked it.” His teeth grit at your ignorance.

“The only thing I care about is you, dumbass. Don’t forget that.”

Kaminari Denki:

Kaminari knew you were growing lonely.

This guy has an entire list of your habits, and he was almost positive talking to yourself wasn’t one of them. Safe to say, he was a tad concerned.

He had passed by your bedroom and heard you jabbering on about whether hot dogs were tacos or sandwiches.

To be fair, he thought it was a valid argument at first, but after listening to you for twenty minutes straight, he knew there was something wrong.

Kaminari loves you dearly, and though he’s not sure if you feel the same, he’s certainly desperate to try. Though you resented him for kidnapping you from your own home, he knew there was one thing in the world that would break down your walls-- one thing no human could resist.

It wasn’t a big dog, no. It was a little golden retriever puppy that jumped and yelped at Kaminari’s side as they walked home.

“She’s gonna love you so much buddy!” he grinned, patting the puppy on the head. “She’s gonna love both of us now!”

Opening the door to the house, Kaminari searched for you before sneaking the dog inside. Then he called out your name in a sing-songy tone.

“YNNNNNN, guess what I got you!” He can’t keep the excitement off his face as he hears you slip out of your bedroom and make your way down the stairs.

“What do you-...” You cut yourself off, watching him warily as you see movement behind him. There’s something… small, barely visible between the blond’s legs but you can tell you’re not gonna like it either way.

“Surprise!” he shouts, picking up the golden retriever and holding it out to you.

Yeah, sure. Doggy pictures online were adorable to look at, but face-to-face, there was always a chance that it would BITE YOUR FACE OFF!

Not even a second after seeing it, you open your mouth and let out a noise suspiciously akin to that of a parrot’s squawk before tearing cheek down the nearest hallway.

Kaminari just watches this go down, the smile slowly falling from his face. Both him and the dog jump at the sound of the door slamming.

They glance at each other before Kaminari shrugs. “Guess she doesn’t like you.”

The dog growls.

Meanwhile, you are huddled up in the downstairs bathroom of Kaminari’s house, trembling in fear and curling up in the bathtub. The curtains are hastily drawn to disguise yourself and seamlessly blend in with the environment.

The only thing that breaks your genius cover is the squeak you let out when the door opens.

“YN?”

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

That was an excellent question. What did he do?

“...I’m sorry?”

He covers his ears and expects another yell, but all he gets is a small whimper.

“YN?” Kaminari is hesitant to approach you, but he closes the bathroom door behind him before he does so, just in case a sudden canine intrusion doesn’t occur.

All he hears in response is a sniffle, and when he pulls back the curtain, his heart yowls at the sight. He made you cry.

“Oh, YN…” Your face is tucked into your knees as your body shivers with silent sobs. In an instant, he’s in the tub with you, sitting back on his calves and tugging you into his lap.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your hair.

(If you thought he was gonna miss this chance to hold you in his arms, you were wrong.)

“Shhh,” he rubs your back as your shuddering slows. “It’s okay, it’ll all be okay.”

“I-I’m scared of dogs,” you mumble, tightening your grip in his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no,” he shakes his head, pressing you further into his chest. The feeling of your hair is so soft against his cheek. “It’s not your fault. The only person I got it for was you.”

You were hesitant to display your gratitude, so you settled for nodding. The bathroom falls to silence as Kaminari basks in the euphoria from holding you in his arms. You took comfort in him.

“I’ll give the dog back tonight, then how about I treat you to a nice dinner, hmm?”

“O-okay.”

He grins and his grip on you tightens. “Good,” he hums. Well, look at that. He had you all to himself and he got you to agree to a date with him. Win-win.

I don’t think your posts are showing up in the tags ): cause when I searched a couple of them from newest your new post wasn’t there

damn that sucks😔 but I also get it. It’s been a while since I posted so I understand why the tumblr algorithm wouldn’t put at the top of the tags no matter how recent I post. I’m just glad at least a few people got to read it and enjoyed it💜 thanks for telling me!!

It’s the thirsting on Hisoka even tho I’ve never actually watched hunter x hunter for me🤡

Loving Tradition (Tsukishima x Reader) *Request*

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Tsukishima has accidentally started a growing tradition with you: he will attend your home volleyball games, and you will attend his. But why does it hurt so much when you finally miss one of his own games? Surely he doesn’t like you that much… right?

A/N: Lol yeah you actually did already send the request in, but honestly I appreciated that you expanded on your idea! With every request, I always wonder if I’m writing the right stuff, so I appreciated the elaboration in your second ask. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 3436

        Tsukishima knew you. Of course he knew you. You were the innocent girl who sat behind him in class, always fumbling with your glasses and scribbling with your pencil oh-so loudly. 

        By the time spring came around, he dubbed you Mouth-Breathing Mary. Evidently you had allergies, and rather than sniffling, you resorted to the second loudest option to obtain enough oxygen in your lungs to function properly. Everything you did, even though you sat a few roomy inches behind him, peeved him off so much. 

        Oh how he wished he could ignore it, your every little noise and sound effect. But something about you just stuck with him, interested him in some way. Like there was a part of you that hadn’t shown its face to him, or anybody, yet.

        And, of course, he had “heard” of you too. Apparently some girl attending Karasuno High was a powerhouse on the court. With pictures in the news and games on TV, she was practically a worldwide legend for Women’s 18 and under volleyball. Tsukishima first learned about her while preparing for practice, watching the two resident perverts of the VBC leering over a new magazine with heart eyes. 

        “She goes to our school, doesn’t she? What a hottie!” Pint-Size had exclaimed. 

        “She looks so innocent too, just like our beloved Kiyoko!” Mr. No-Shirt responded.

        So yeah. He did know both sides of you, but it only took one stroll past the open doors of the first gym during lunch for him to discover this. Yamaguchi had finally caught up with his strides when they both heard it. 

        WHAM!

        Flinching at the sudden boom, they peered through the doorway like meerkats to spot the perpetrator. 

        You. 

        You, standing under the bright lights of the gym, forehead dripping sweat and face scrunched up in distaste at whatever had caused the bang that shook the room. Your eyes squinted behind the glass frames that blessed you with vision, allowing you to glare at whatever had displeased you. 

        It was a single water bottle standing in the corner of the court, closest to the open doors. Others just like it were laying askew along the wall, gathered up with spare volleyballs as well. There were about six bottles in total, and you, huffing and cursing under your breath, lined them all up along the back of the court. After this, you returned to your spot on the other end. Then-

        WHAM!

        The first bottle farthest from your spectators slammed against the back wall before you retrieved another volleyball from the basket at your side. Toss, step, step, jump…

        WHAM!         WHAM!

        WHAM!

        Finally, you knocked over all the bottles in a patterned succession. You had done so with a hawk-like precision, almost looking like you could do it in your sleep. The only things that ruined the picture of you being this blank-faced pro were the small fist pump you allowed yourself and the wide grin that grew on your face. Then you started anew, lining them up along the edge of the court and refilling your volleyball supply once more. 

        “Wow,” Yamaguchi whispered breathlessly, shocking Tsukishima out of his stupor. “She’s good!”

        First, his lips twitched. Then his jaw clenched. And finally, with a small readjustment of his glasses performed by a single index finger, Tsukishima spoke. 

        “Let’s go back. Lunch is almost over.”

                                ~~~

        The aloof blond almost couldn’t believe it. Mouth-Breathing Mary was a devastating beast on the volleyball court. How? How does someone who looks like they couldn’t even walk past an animal shelter without bursting into tears do that?

        “Hey,” your voice, along with an incessant jab to his back via the butt end of your pencil grabs his attention instantly. “I saw you watchin’ me at lunch today, creeper.” 

        Observer of those who were potentially more skilled at volleyball than he was? Yes. Creeper? No. 

        “I was simply inspecting what was making such a racket in the gym. Don’t flatter yourself.” 

        The comment makes you scoff. “Psh, all right. I’ll buy that B.S. for now, stalker.” 

        His teeth were going to be grinded to dust before the day was over. However, Tsukishima chooses to stay silent, glueing his eyes to his textbook in order to ignore the feeling of your gaze on his back. 

        “By the way,” you nudge his shoulder blade once more, making him glance toward the ceiling. 

        “Yes?”

        “I have a game tomorrow night, just in case you wanna ‘inspect more racket’ in the gym.” 

        No. Of course he wouldn’t go, are you kidding?

                                ~~~

        “Tsukki, why are we here again?”

        “Shush.” Crowds whooped and hollered after the sound of a large wham, no different from that of a poor volleyball smacking against freshly polished wood. Shoes squeaked down on the court, along with the occasional “cover me” and “it’s up!”

        The audience for tonight’s game was a lot more than Tsukishima expected as he shouldered his way through the bumbling bodies. He was finally able to catch a breath of fresh air when he surfaced at a metal railing, Yamaguchi huffing just as heavily not far behind. 

        Down on the court, from what Tsukishima could tell, the game wasn’t exactly fair. 

        It wasn’t really Karasuno Girls’ Volleyball Club versus Aoba Johsai. 

        No. It was actually you versus six untainted souls, so pure and ready to be petrified. You were in the middle of serving a serious reality check to the girls on the other side of the net when their coach called a time. 

        Apparently, one of the wing spikers had sustained a nice bruise to the forearms while trying to field your classic server’s ace. It was her fault really, but her replacement was shaking just as much in her court shoes. 

        Halfway through the game, Tsukishima finally understood why so many people were here. Watching you was almost like a drug. Not that he was addicted or anything. 

        It was like throwing a lion in the gazelle exhibit at the zoo. Ducks on a pond. Fish in a barrel. Whatever other analogies there were out in the world that could explain how much you were opening a can of whoop ass right now. 

        At a certain point, the Aoba Johsai girls weren’t even trying. Tsukishima almost swore he heard a whimper from one of them after your spike had flown past her face. 

        Yep. He finally got it. You were like a highlight reel of the best volleyball players to exist. There was even a journalist from the local news taking pictures and writing notes in the corner of the stands right now! 

        And yet, the next day at school, you were that same little lamb that sat behind him in class. The glasses hiding your eyes also disguised the gaze’s capacity for ferocity. Last night, and every game he assumed before that, you were a force to be reckoned with. 

        And, yeah, he totally didn’t like you or anything. 

                                ~~~

        Karasuno didn’t always host home games for their boys’ volleyball club, but when they did, there was always one person in the audience Tsukishima looked for. 

        You.

        At one point, you had stopped teasing him for attending your games, and instead you began to return the favor. Now, sure, there were less people in the audience when the boys played because, really, who did they have that was a world champion like you? 

        Anyways, Tsukishima and you had made a silent agreement after however many games you had cheered for each other. No words needed to really be spoken about it, and Tsukishima almost preferred it that way. In all honesty, the tall middle blocker felt like he played better under your watchful eyes. You were really the only person who he could depend on that believed in him, and him alone. 

        You weren’t intrusive or loud like his brother, but whenever he instinctively glanced up at you after a particularly well-executed block, you always blushed and glanced away in this cute little way of yours. Tsukishima just knew it. He liked you. 

        Not that he would ever admit it to your face, though. 

        And he liked to think that you found comfort in his presence during your games as well. Though he didn’t nearly catch your eye as much up in the stands (you were always too in the zone), you would always give him a little thumbs up and a grin after a game. 

        It was the most frustrating thing, as Tsukishima always had to glance away to fend off his own flush. He hated how easily you could break down his stoic walls in your own little shy ways. The only thing he hated more than that was the giggle he would hear after avoiding your gaze. 

        Now, tonight was yet another game, and another opportunity to see you. 

        Of course, he saw you during school hours, but he usually refrained from talking to you during that time. You were always too sly or too quiet, depending on the day, but also, deep down Tsukishima liked the distance that came between the two of you during games. It prevented that stupid little flutter of his heart whenever you would accidentally brush his hand in the hallway or draw weird patterns on the back of his uniform during class. 

        Yeah, he liked the distance. Most of the time. 

                                ~~~

        It was five o’clock. The match was about to begin, and yet a certain middle blocker couldn’t stop his attention from straying to the stands. 

        Where…

        “Tsukishima, get your ass out there!” 

        The blond cursed under his breath, adjusting his glasses on his face before jogging out onto the bright court. Kageyama threw his teammate a few strange glances, but kept his jaw wired shut. Good.

        “Damn, Tsukki, what’s wrong with you today? Is your girlfriend not here to cheer you on?” a certain wing spiker teased, flashing his signature toothy smirk. 

        The middle blocker doesn’t respond, only flaring his nostrils at the fact that Tanaka was right. Well, half right. 

        “Tanaka’s right, you need to get your head in the game,” the blue-haired setter sneers.

        This lights a fire under the middle blocker’s ass. “Nobody tells me how to play,” Tsukishima hisses, hands covering the back of his head as he waits for Hinata to serve. “Especially not a power-tripping king like you.” 

        “Calm it down, you two. We’ve got a game to play.” As always, Captain Daichi has to save the day, but that doesn’t distract Tsukishima from Buzzcut’s words. 

        Where were you?

                                ~~~

        Of course, Karasuno’s VBC won the game last night, but at the bottom of his heart, Tsukishima feels like it was unearned. Not seeing you in the crowd last night made his mouth taste bitter and his head pained. It’s not like he wanted to like you so much, but part of him still feels betrayed you had broken tradition. 

        Now, he could be realistic in this instant. Maybe you just had too much homework. Maybe your family had an emergency. Maybe you got into a car crash on your way to the game and died. 

        Really, the possibilities were endless. 

        Anyways, as Tsukishima sat in class, headphones plugged in as he waited for the first bell to ring, his final theory was proved false. 

        Tap tap. A familiar touch poked his shoulder from behind. That wasn’t the only reason for why he knew it was you; you were also the only person in the school who had the guts to actually touch the blank-faced genius of the volleyball club. 

        Playing off his indignation as reluctance, Tsukishima snaps his music off his ears and lays it on his desk, signalling for you to speak with a quick “Did you need something?”

        Even he could tell his tone was icier than normal, and he almost cringed at the sound of you flinching back like he had burned you. “U-umm, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for missing your game last night.” 

        “You don’t have to come to my games.” The words tasted like poison in his own mouth even after he spat them, and Tsukishima knew he was only digging his own grave deeper. Evidently, though, you weren’t one to scare easily. 

        “You know,” you paused, taking a deep breath, “I would have felt terrible too if you missed one of my games.”

        “Really?” is what the boy wanted to ask, but instead he stayed silent in effort to keep himself composed. 

        After waiting for him to respond and deducing that he wouldn’t, you continue. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t there to support you.” He hears you gulp. “B-but, uh, how did you guys do?” Your tone lifts at the end, trying to stay positive considering the wall Tsukishima was currently putting up. 

        “We did fine,” he says after a while. “We won. And you don’t need to be sorry.” 

        “But I am,” he hears you shuffling nervously in your seat, “and I want you to know that I was only gone because I was making something. Something kinda special actually.” 

        From the way you said it, whatever you had made was actually quite personal. Tsukishima’s heart fills with guilt at forcing such a confession out of you, but he still feels burned himself.

        So he replies with a nod and a hum, and that’s the most you guys communicate for the rest of the day. 

                                ~~~

        Same day, new game. As Tsukishima slips on his jersey in the locker room, his mind wanders to thoughts of you. More specifically to if you’ll be at his game tonight. 

        He highly doubted it, especially after the way he treated you this morning. Though cold and remote were his signature styles, he hated that it might have closed you off for good this time. 

        “...Tsukki? You okay?” Yamaguchi only stops waving his hand in front of his friend’s face when the blond bats it away with a scowl. 

        “What?”

        “You’ve been staring at the wall for like ten minutes,” the shorter boy shrugs, “everyone else has gone to the gym now. I was just waiting for you to snap out of it so we could go.” 

        Yikes. If Tsukishima’s head was already out of it now, who knows what would happen with him during the game. As much as he hates the thought, his playing abilities seemed to be tethered to you. The closer you were, the better they became. 

        God, how had he fallen so far?

        “I’m ready. Let’s go.” Tsukishima leads the way, Yamaguchi trailing not even a stride behind him down the steps and into the school’s main gym. 

        It’s bright and buzzing with volleyball life inside.Yellow- and blue-striped balls fill rolling baskets to the brim, meanwhile others fly through the air at compromising speeds. The other team has arrived and is practicing harmoniously, not a single player out of step. 

        This team was good, and Karasuno would have to be better.

        “Glasses, get your ass over here!” Coach Ukai shouts with no shame, waving Tsukishima over to the rest of the spikers who were already running and jumping above the net. 

        The middle blocker joins the group with ease, practicing in their normal rhythm. Of course that would be easy; it was the spontaneity of a game that would be able to catch him off his guard later.

        No. Tsukishima could play without you. It was hard to break out of a habit, but he wasn’t as weak-minded as some other people he knew (his eyes locked on Hinata as he thought this). 

        And so the game commenced. Refs arrived, crowds filed in, and in a single, bare area up in the stands sat you. 

        Tsukishima blanched at the sight. Thankfully, he was starting the game in the player box, but that didn’t mean your presence hadn’t rattled him. 

        Well, maybe it wasn’t your presence, per se, it was more so the homemade sign you waved through the air after winking cheekily at him. 

        “#11, I’ll give you a kiss if you win!” it said.

        The sign was twice your size across, and every word sparkled black with an orange outline. There was a heart in the corner, and a small volleyball sat atop the i in “kiss.” 

        “Ooh, look whose girlfriend showed up today?!” Tanaka catcalls, whistling as Tsukishima goes ghost white. 

        Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush.

        It was a nice attempt, but unsuccessful overall. In the end, the blond can only shake his head as a hint of a smile creeps onto his face. It’s the best you’ve ever gotten, though, so you better take it and run. 

        For the rest of the game, Tsukishima is forced to play with pink cheeks, ignoring every eyebrow waggle from Nishinoya and every suggestive elbow to the side from Tanaka. And of course you tease him too. 

        Each time he glances up at you like he normally does, you throw him a beaming smile and shake the sign you still hold, leaning on the railing it hangs over. Though he would hate to admit it, it still pumps him up like normal. Every block is just a tad better, and every serve just a tad stronger. 

        And by the end of that game, you best believe he was waiting for that kiss. 

        The ref blows the whistle, the last set won by Karasuno with seven points hanging over the other team’s head. The tall middle blocker’s eyes dart to yours and that’s all the signal you need to clamber your way down onto the court, sign still intact. 

        You hand it to him as soon as you're close enough and for some unexplainable reason, Tsukishima accepts the responsibility of holding the sign willingly. 

        Your eyes glow with excitement but the rest of your body language tells that you’re shy, including the smallest little nibble on your lower lip that you would soon discover drives him up the walls. 

        “Well?” Tsukishima finally asks, glancing you up and down before locking his gaze on your face. 

        “Hmm?” you hum, playing innocent because of course you would do that during a time like this. Tsukishima had figured out early on that you were just as terrible with emotions as he was. Maybe you could work on it together, but that would have to be saved for later. Right now, you owed him. 

        Tsukishima doesn’t bother to respond to your teasing. Instead, he sighs and tosses aside the sign, ignoring as it flutters to the ground for all to see before tugging you closer by your hand. Your eyes widen with nervousness, but the blond doesn’t bother to let it grow into an all-out halt on the situation. 

        No. He wouldn’t give up this chance. No matter how many others were watching. 

        Though you were only seven inches shorter than him, he still tips your head up before leaning down and capturing your lips against his. 

        It’s short and sweet, because Tsukishima is never one to reveal all his cards on the first go. He presses his lips to your softer ones and makes note of just how much pressure might drive you crazy at a later date, then he pulls away, immediately wanting to absorb your blissed expression. 

        It doesn’t disappoint, as in the short few seconds your first kiss had lasted, your pupils had blown wide and your cheeks had transitioned from a gentle pink to a burning red. Your hands had barely had enough time to reach up and tangle in his hair, so you follow through with the act then, intertwining your fingers right at his nape. 

        “Well-deserved,” you breathe out with a grin, tugging his sweaty forehead down before pressing your own against it. Tsukishima just barely copies your expression, allowing a slight curl at each end of his mouth as he cranes his neck to meet your face. He raises a questions brow when your smile twists into a smirk. 

        “I’d still kick your ass in volleyball though.” Tsukishima rolls his eyes as you playfully nudge his glasses with your own. 

        “That’s debatable.”

Hi ! can you make general headcanons on amai mask yandere please ? (Onepunchman)

hahahahahaha wow i gotta be honest that is not a character I have ever cared for bc of garou's HOTNESS but also remembering his background story and how every girl wants him bc he's like a hot hero or whatver the idea of him being a yandere for yn sounds fucking amazing???

no full hcs but i can give u what's swirling around in my brain for a moment. I'm sure u don't mind, considering this req has gathered more dust than a let's get it on cassette tape, and u probably don't even follow me anymore. yay

this could totally be one of the "starstruck movie" tropes where your friend is in love with amai mask but u dont rly get it so ur not a fan

and he loves this bc u know fanfic bs means that he wants u and only u (explain this in whatever way u so desire) let's just say u were built different for now

so amai mask is like head over heels and ur just like, hehehe he's like rly hot but also eh i could go without

but he can't go without

cue him paying villains and low level criminals to try and like rob u or smth so that he can save you and look rly hot while doing it--ya know, kinda like how birds do mating dances in the wild, this mf will try to have u killed and then gloriously kill your attacker while flipping his lustrous locks.

one day the villain actually goes to far and freaks u tf out so that you're shaking and amai mask just gets uncomfortable bc oh shit he paid for that to happen. he kills the guy (bc this is yandere welcome to yandere bullshit 101) and then he runs over and cradles u in his arms and whispers feather-soft in your ears that he won't let you get hurt again and to "let go, let me take care of you. You're safe with me"

and he guides u back to his apartment and buh-bam u in love he's in love yayy they lived happily ever after.

totally the type of guy to wake u up or bother the shit out of you whenever he wants hugs n kisses btw

bc ur built different

hi um so two of my fav writers on this platform literally reblogged another of these drabbles as i was writing this one so?? I'm buggin.

It’s the long-drawn snapping of neurons that prickle at you, eyes closed and forearm thrown over your face. A slow peel of eyelid after eyelid, foggy thoughts wisping away at a moment’s notice in the blackness of the bedroom; the ceiling is more a theory of shapes inferred from moon-coerced shadows than its usual cragginess, and you unhook your arm from the dip between your nose and forehead to reach up. Comb your fingertips through the air. 

Was it the breeze through your ever-closed window? Open now, a new development, but surely one that would rouse you like a bear from slumber. You feel large enough to be a bear, warm enough to feel tarped in fur, lethargic enough to clamber off your mattress and land on all fours and grunt like an animal. 

Maybe it was the slice of light underneath your bedroom door. You never forget to turn off the switches in your living room, the LED bulbs too glowy and insistent to sleep the way you do, curled up on one side and facing the doorway. 

Or maybe it’s because you’re not sleeping the way you always do. Not at the moment. Right now, you’re tipped onto your back, each limb swallowed up by an inch of cushion, flat like a slab of carbonite. Your body and the bed are inseparable—each pore on your skin is looped through with a stitch that dips into the sheets, rises back out and finishes with a double knot. 

All you can do is lay there. Willingly, you suppose, despite the spasms. 

A new ozone layer has settled around you, consistency of molasses, and hot to inhale. It stinks of past activity, like breaths that have been used up and tossed out. All of it cloys against your skin, maintaining a sheen of sweat to add to the discomfort. 

You’re awake now, though. 

Unhappy, but no longer unconscious. A bit bitter that you’re all alone. 

But a sharp trill pierces the air, and it hits you—that’s it.

That’s what had awoken you. 

Roused this grumpy, sticky, sore form of you that’s polyfoam-bound, torn too quick from a fundamental repose period. You’re too exhausted to moan, gripe, curse like you should. 

Even as the lights under the door flicker out, and something pushes it’s way inside with various scuffling movements. The room returns to stagnancy with a soft click, save for the lone gust of wind invading and receding at an unsteady tempo. 

Your next breath is a roiling mix of oxygen saturated with sodium and garlic. You hum aloud, a vague attempt to dissuade the bile crawling up your throat. Each time your tongue scrapes past your teeth, the morning grime collects and taints your tastebuds. 

You need water, and a toothbrush, and two tablespoons of toothpaste. Five minutes for an alcoholic rinse, too. 

Definitely don’t need the robust wafting of a pepperoni Hot Pocket up your nostrils at the ass-crack of dawn, as the mattress dips with a bulky outline. 

“Sorry, Bonnie,” a Scottish voice that is not apologetic in the slightest mumbles beside you. “Didnae mean to wake ye. Fuckin’ makes me ’bit peckish.”