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#fun jiu jitsu
jiujitsunews · 1 year
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MMA may be more versatile and appeal to generalist fighters, but BJJ is still a physically demanding discipline that relies on the mind to solve complex situations on the mat.
In our latest blog post, we learn more about the differences between these two martial arts. >> https://jiujitsu-news.com/should-i-train-mma-or-bjj/
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indieyuugure · 7 months
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Hello! Hello! I am here wishing you a happy day/night!!! (I also know that as a stranger my words may be weird BUT- I am so proud of you and your achievements!!!)
Aw thank you! ^v^ (Don’t worry I don’t find it weird)
I’m having a very good day!
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anto-pops · 11 months
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I assume you're always down to kick ass and take names. you seem very ride or die in a good way!
These hands are rated E for everybody so YES, I CONFIRM THIS
Aside from gymnastics, I did martial arts my entire childhood before I moved abroad ! I have two black belts but I’m sorely out of practice. I’ll still pick up the nearest chair and use it in a pinch though 👀
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tragedykery · 1 year
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ppl always ask me why tf I would practice martial arts—y’know, something with a high risk of injury or at the very least pain—when I already have chronic pain. and I think it’s like. the type of pain is very different? one is comparable to having sore muscles after a good workout & essentially just a reminder that oh yeah I was able to and had a fun time! while the other I get just because I. dared exist in this body
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pesoprima · 7 months
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Jiu Jitsu sparring looks like two tops trying to determine who's the bottom for the night
A real snuggle with a struggle
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hoshigray · 21 days
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Hello (◍•ᴗ•◍)
I really like your work it's so good!! And i saw your request is open soooo
Can i request delinquent/bad boy sukuna x student council president reader? Like they hate each other bc reader is very strict with the rule while sukuna just break it anyway. One day, sukuna saw the reader in a party which make him confused bc reader is not the type to do fun stuff. And moments later they fuck
Sorry if this is a very detailed request. Feel free to ignore it or change it :3
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh my, another sukuna req! things bout to get hot, hehe~
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; Sukuna and you are college seniors - blackmail - fingering (f! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! receiving) - facials - use of a phone; sexual photography - impact play (spanking) - full nelson position - degradation (cumslut, pig, slut, whore) - humiliation - overstimulation - pet names (brat, princess, woman) - dick piercing (frenulum) - usage of drugs & alcohol - mention of drool/spit and tears.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k
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Sukuna was grinning ear to ear as he marched his way toward you. “Y/n.”
You perked at your name, and your face contoured to brief shock before shifting to mild annoyance. “Sukuna.”
Running into you at a huge party was the last thing Sukuna expected to see. But it’s a situation he will take advantage of expeditiously. 
College is hard enough being the top dog of the student government association and trying to juggle senior classes. It is your job to keep the school and its students in order, maintaining a pretty face as it’s been doing decently for the several years before you. The entire student body knows you take your job seriously, earning the respect they give you with every step you take and being praised by professors and faculty alike — even being invited to have dinner with the university president along your association! 
But of course, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows because there are always downsides to the good — one of them being a ginormous thorn to your being. 
Ryōmen Sukuna is a man you’ve been dealing with for almost four years. Known for his intimidating cadence whenever he walks the halls, the brutality of his moves as he’s the famous trump card of the school’s jiu-jitsu club, and his cold and demeaning manner of speech when talking down to others he deems beneath him, he is regarded at the campus’ “demon dog.” Someone that many can never believe is the older brother of the freshman track star sweetheart, Yuuji Itadori.
He is a person that many say is the complete opposite face when compared to you, a fact you have no choice but to agree with a twitching brow. Looking through all the disruptive students you’ve dealt with, Sukuna would be crowned King for being the most colossal nuisance of your life. Whether it be reporting him to the campus police for picking fistfights with the juniors, smoking in smoke-free zones, adding more tattoos to his face and arms, or willingly trashing places because he thinks he can, no one has been more subject to give you more grey hairs. He just doesn’t listen — he won’t listen! 
And the worst part is that he enjoyed making your life a living hell. God, he’s such a fucking bastard, not wanting to deal with outside of your academic life.
…Until you two see each other from across the living room where a huge party is held in one of the off-campus apartments, perplexed crimson eyes locked on with widened ones, too shocked to take a sip of your drink from your red solo cup. You immediately turned to the group before you, hoping the sea of kids and the bouncing bass could distort your image from his vision. 
Too late; the salmon-haired senior couldn’t hide the grin on his face as he slithers past people to get to where you are. Students move out of the way for him to move, the group you were hanging with gasps with wary stares, and Sukuna taps your bare shoulder. 
“Never figured the student government president would be here,” his voice was chilling as always. Yet you remain a neutral face when facing him. “Something tells me there isn’t apple juice in that solo cup.”
The group you were hanging out with instantly excused themselves to somewhere else in the apartment, leaving you alone with Sukuna. You rolled your eyes, “What is it, Ryōmen?” You feel disgusted as his red eyes scan your figure, taking in the off-shoulder, long-sleeved bodycon dress you were wearing. True, you don’t wear stuff like this all the time, but you can’t expect this bastard to have any amount of decency or subtlety. 
“Whatcha doin’ here, prez?” God, you hated him calling you that, knowing good and damn well what your name was — but, again, why would he bother; not respecting you enough to do something simple as that. “Isn’t this kind of thing what you’re against for and all?”
“Hmph, am I not allowed to have some fun at a party I was invited to?” You furrowed your brows and took an aggressive sip. “Besides, this is off-campus housing; the property owners are the ones who’ll have anyone’s asses if stuff breaks or cause disruption against the codes.” 
“Oh, so the uptight President is off duty this time? Hmm, ain’t that something,” he leans against the wall beside you with crossed arms. Your gaze was averted to the crowd bumping and grinding rather than acknowledging the delinquent examining you. “I figured you’d be somewhere pulling your panties to some poor bastard.”
“Watch your tone when talking to me, Ryōmen,” you finally send him a glare through your peripherals. It humored him, a devilish chortle you could hear even through the loud bass. “Lucky for you, I’m only here to have a good time with some friends before heading home to assignments. So, do me a favor and don’t start shit for me to take home and stress over.” 
He lifts a brow, “Is that so? Miss Prez came to let loose, huh.” You didn’t like how he said that — nor how he moved to lean closer to you. His cologne disrupts your nostrils. “Never thought you had that side of you.”
“There are many things you don’t know about me, Ryōmen,” you swing your cup around with a scoff. “And I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
And you thought you’d win this round as Sukuna doesn’t say anything to you for a few seconds. However, the man goes through his pocket to pull out his phone to pull up something. And when he finds it, he flashes the screen to your direction. “You mean things like these?” You turn to look at the device, and your eyes go wide with an agape mouth. What he was showing were photos — a whole lot — of you. 
“You know, I’m sure it must be hard being president of the student body; that’s why I don’t envy you,” one photo shown is of you smoking in the Honors Lounge with a few of your student government associates, an action undoubtedly prohibited within the facilities. “So, I can’t blame you when you decide to settle down and let yourself go for a minute,” he swipes his finger to pictures of you drinking liquor with some other students who smoke blunts and have weed plastered on the coffee table. “However, you really outta be careful with what you’re doing, Y/n; you got people who look up to you and expect so much from you.” Another picture shows you at some dark nightclub with a guy friend, shoving middle fingers and sticking tongues out at the camera. 
Your lips quiver with every swipe, and lips quiver, “Wh…Where did you get those…”
“Hmm? I can’t share that information. Heh, plus, I like to keep tabs on those who can get on my nerves,” he stuffs the phones back into his dark jean pocket. “But I can’t lie; the more I look at those pictures and compare them to the little president that nags too damn much, I can’t help but wonder what would happen if someone were to leak these out for the whole school to see. Which would drop quicker: your presidential scholarship and accolades or your reputation?”
“You fucking asshole…!”
You swiftly throw your cup at Sukuna, but the pink-haired man dodges easily and grabs your wrist — the poor guy behind him gets drenched with your drink. “Hey!” The guy grabs Sukuna’s shoulder and is immediately met with the infamous death glare. “…My fault, bro, don’t worry about it. I’ll go dry off,” the student says while backtracking away from those fearsome eyes. 
You’re trembling with vexed shakes; the hand on your wrist holds you tight with no sign to let go unless necessary. Otherwise, you know he’ll break it if you make one wrong move. “…What the hell do you want from me?“
Now Sukuna has you in the palm of his hand — his sinister grin growing as he leans closer to be inches away from your face. “My apartment is on the top floor; you have ten minutes to get your ass up there,” you don’t move a centimeter when he draws near your ear to whisper. “I’ll show you how to really get loose, Miss President.”
The words felt like sharp daggers to your throat, “You…devil.”
He snickers into your ear, “Pick your poison, and you’ll see just how much of a devil I can be.”
And with that, Sukuna straightens himself up and heads out, his frame disappearing deep into the crowd till you can’t see him anymore. Your heartbeat goes at a pace way too irregular to call ordinary, and your blood too cold as it has your skin suffer in shivers. 
This was a nightmare — an absolute, horrifying nightmare. There’s no way the guy that you hate with your very guts just blackmailed you! This was not how this night was supposed to go; now your whole reputation — what you’ve built with your own two hands — is being held in front of you and is dependent on going to this asshole’s apartment. Who the hell does he think he is!?
You didn’t want to go. You wouldn’t go! Especially under the premise of that fucker, playing with your life like some toy. Your thoughts were inner turmoil, challenging your morals and conscience on what to do. Your pride was trying to pull up a good fight, holding onto whatever dignity you have to validate not going up on the elevator and seeing Sukuna for what he’s about to do to you. They’re just pictures; people will think they’re edited or question if they’re valid!
However, the fact that you spent five minutes going back and forth with this suggests those were anything but pictures. He had ammunition to bring you down — to humble and look down on you — and have everyone do the same, no matter what you could say to justify yourself. So, swallowing your ego, you exit the party and walk the hallway down to the elevator. Every floor you ascended made you feel small, and when the doors opened for you to step out and you saw him leaning on his door waiting for you, your fate had been sealed. 
The same smirk he had at the party was plastered on his face. You were no longer in control of the situation; you are now in his domain — and you should follow his commands to keep up.
“Gahhh! Mmmph, Ryooo, stop—Eeek! Y’re hitting so ha—Ahhh!”
“What? You thought I was going to be easy with you? After all those times you’ve pestered me to no end? Hah, think again, prez.”
Being in the same space with Sukuna is something you never comprehended happening civilly in all your years of knowing him. Now, being laid on top of his knees as he sits on the edge of the bed is jarring in its own sentence. The skirt of your dress was pulled up, your ass and panties out for the cool air to caress. Not until Sukuna rips you off your underwear and starts giving your bare butt unforeseen strikes. The impact of his hand was so harsh that you gripped his jean-clad leg with a scream. 
He goes about this for a solid five minutes, giving your asscheeks slaps – and your cries have him chuckle and do some more. And you can’t squirm out of his hold, or else he’ll dent the skin of your butt with his fingertips, piercing into the tense muscle to inflict pain like no other. God, it hurt so bad, every smack taking your breath away. 
“Look at you,” he coos, rubbing his hand on the hot skin. The pain was so bad to the point of your eyes watering; simply hovering his Hand over you was enough to have you in shudders. “Whatever happened to the poised and resilient Y/n who’d always dare threaten me for my behavior? This person on me, screaming like a whore, can’t be the same Y/n.” 
You grit your teeth, turning over your shoulder to express your seething glare. “Who are you calling a whore, you fucking—Deeeii! Ohhh!” Sukuna sneaks a forefinger inside your wet cunt, not bothering to warn you. “Wai—Tahhh! Take it out, take it out right—Noooh!!”
“Oh, don’t even think you’re in any position to tell me what to do, slut,” you bite your lip as he moves his finger into your vagina with such merciless vigor. “And with how you’re crying like a bitch, you sound pretty whore-ish to me.”
Oh, go fuck yourself! You could have told him that — but you didn’t because he squeezes in his middle finger to insert inside your tight chasm, both digits now rummaging inside your vaginal walls and scraping them to the point of drooling babbles on your part. You couldn’t think of anything, not when he’s still throwing smacks on your ass with his free hand. You can’t even wipe the spit that comes down your lips because he distracts you with more jabs to your inner walls and pinches to the skin of your butt. Fuck, fuuuck!!
And it gets worse when you feel his thumb dance around your asshole. “N–No, stop it, Sukuna! That’s dirty, don’t—Mmnaahh!!” He slips it inside without care; the pain of his thumb forcing inside your puckered anus almost has you shut down.
“That’s the point, prez,” he bites his lip with a pestilent snicker. “Gonna make you so fucking dirty tonight, wanna ruin that perfect image of yours that you don’t recognize yourself. He scratches your butt, resulting in you clamping onto his digits with a grip that feeds his ego. “Mhmm, just like that, princess.”
How dare he play with your ass like a toy and have the nerve to call you that? Such a sick man; the hate you have for him boils your blood to no end. “Ahhh, stoop, too fast, please, go slo—Mmmph!?”
He shoves two fingers in your mouth to stifle your cries. “That’ll keep you from squealing, fucking pig.” And he continues to toy with your slit and anus, your whimpers muffled by his thick fingers.
“Take it all in, Y/n, every single fucking inch, ya hear?…Mmmm, yeah, deep in your throat like that.” 
This. Is. The. Worst! There’s absolutely no way you’re sucking Sukuna’s cock right now; this is the very last thing you’d want to be doing! He’s standing with his dark jeans and briefs on his thighs, his hand on the back of your head to make sure your mouth remains on his dick at all times. If you could, you would’ve chewed the damn thing off and made a run for it. 
But you came here for a reason, so you keep your disdain at bay and begrudgingly suck on Sukuna’s glans, having the salmon-haired man purr from above you. And it doesn’t help that he holds his phone to take pictures of you and said add more to his collection. God, he’s so disgusting…
“Fhhh, fuck, that feels good,” he groans at you taking his girth. Your lips down to the hilt, burrowing his length deep into the warm, tight tunnel of your throat. “Who woulda thought the strict, by-the-book Y/n would take in dick so well?” You narrow your eyes at him as you bob your face up and down, earning a hearty chuckle from the pleased man. “That face of yours, baby, so furious with me, huh.”
You try to pay him no mind, distracting yourself with the task at hand by licking one of his balls before sucking them. Your hands increase in speed when stroking him, having the man above unable to stop bucking his hips to your fist for more enviable friction. 
“Shit, yeah, yes,” he throws his head back in bliss, and you can tell he’s about finished while feeling his cock pulsate under your touch. “Bring your face here.”
He does it for you – his hand on your head for a reason – and forces you close to his cock before he jerks himself for release. And his come exudes with a force, landing right on your face. You fight every fiber of your being to move away, accepting his essence to paint your cheeks, nose, and lips. It was unbelievable how disgracious he was, just plain selfish and unapologetically nasty. 
You hear the phone snap, throwing another scowl at the pink-haired responsible. “Lookin’ like a real cumslut for me, prez.”
And the worst part of all finally comes around — the thing you dreaded once you stepped out of that party and into that elevator.
“—Fffaaahh! Hooohshiiit! This is crazy—Eeeee!”
“Fuckin’ shit, you’re tight as hell, woman…Khhh…! Tryin’ to milk me dry, huh, Y/n…”
Sukuna lies beneath you with his legs bent away, his arms wrapped underneath your legs, and pushing them to your chest from behind. His cock is entombed inside your leaking slit as he thrusts up to you with every second, and the sound of your ass smacking onto his thighs fills the space.
He has his hands behind your neck, demanding you to look at the union of your sexes, and your face couldn’t get any hotter than watching the obscenity. He’s been fucking you for more than ten minutes now, his cum inside you from the last round stains a white ‘o’ around the base of him, and the sticky substance so vulgar to look at it stretching with his push and pull motions. And the squelching – the goddamn squelching! – it only furthered the fog clouding your mind.
There was no point concealing your wails; your lips were forced open with every jab from Sukuna. Jesus, he was so fucking big — your poor cunt stretched to accommodate his intrusion. You clamp onto him more when he pulls, the barbell piercing his frenulum and scraping your walls from the descent and grazing your G-spot.
“Fuck, fuuuck, hsssh…!” It was hard to concentrate on anything outside of this, and you couldn’t tell if you were speaking adequately or prattling like some sex-crazed fool. You sigh with rolled eyes when he sends sporadic ruts out of nowhere, clenching onto his shaft with a tug. 
It has Sukuna groan hotly, his breath steaming your skin. “Holy fuck, you really love gripping my cock, don’t you, princess?”
“I–I can’t help it! You keep ’n hit—Haishhh!” Your eyes meet the ceiling at the jab of your A-spot, the pressure making you feel full. “You—hic—…Yo’re the one m’king me like thisss…”
“Is that right?” He takes slow thrusts to draw out your pleasure; your broken howls were music to his ears. “Sounds like the to be enjoying yourself.” You hurriedly shake your head no, and he throws a bitter pound to your hypersensitive chasm. “Brat, why the hell else are you milking me like this for, then?” 
“Becauseee, it feels….Mmmm,” No, you can’t say that. Don’t tell him what he wants to hear.
“Hmm? Feels what?” You can hear the smirk on his lips. You don’t say anything except muffled hums, so he probes you, “You want me to send out those pictures, huh? Show just how much of a terrible president you are, how you love to go dumb on my dick?”
Of course not! “Do—Don’t you dare…!”
“Then answer the question: how does it feel, hmm? Tell me, how do you feel being fucked by the guy you hate so much?”
Oh, damn you, Ryōmen Sukuna! It was now you shed a tear, your hands grabbing for his forearms for purchase. 
“—Fucking ‘ell, it feels good,” you said it, your last bit of dignity finally thrown for the man to shred apart. “Feels ‘oo good, you make me feel—Geheehh…so damn good…!”
Oh, that was more than enough for him. Sukuna’s sneer becomes broader, and his chuckles are felt from your back. “What a dirty bitch for me, princess…”
His hips go back to an unsteady fashion, propelling his dick to his base, and the brushes of his piercing massage your walls too precisely. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to come crashing down on you with a scream, the walls of your cunt contracting around Sukuna for the third time that night. Your nails dig into his arms, and drool leaves your pretty agape mouth as he allows you to ride out your climax.
Sukuna whistles at the sensation of you fluttering on his girth. “Phew, damn, that was a good fuck. You know how to keep up with me, woman; you’d make a great pet.”
You were sick of him, gulping to wet your dry throat. “Delete…the fucking…pictures.” Your empty threat only has him click his tongue with a scoff.
“Not so fast there, prez; the fun was just getting good.” Your heart sinks to the soles of your feet. “So, be a good brat and know your place is under me tonight.
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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denwritesandcries · 4 months
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Hold to my Hand – Hazel Callahan
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Pairing: loser!hazel x fem!reader
Summary: You might be a little – completely – obsessed with your girlfriend's hands and apparently she enjoys that a lot.
Word count: 2,3k.
Content: cursing, fluff, kisses, slight jealousy, hazel being a loser AND a mess, soft gfs.
A/N: So… women, right? Women with rings and cold hands… right?
English is not my first language.
“Babe, stop that!”
“What?” You said, “I’m not doing anything.”
But you were.
You were sprawled out on your girlfriend Hazel's bed, a book from your English class abandoned in front of you while your girlfriend had a laptop open on her lap, the cute look of concentration from before replaced by red cheeks and nervousness at your actions.
It was no big deal, actually, your girlfriend was simply very easy to flustreat; you had one of her hands in yours, leaving feather-light kisses along her calloused, ring-covered fingers, sending goosebumps across her cold skin.
“You’re distracting me,” she whines, looking away to a random spot in the room, “I can’t type like this.”
You huff, climbing higher on the bed to be at her height, keeping your grip on her hand and glancing at the laptop screen.
“Boxing and wrestling techniques?” you read, letting your head fall to rest on her shoulder, “Will you really gonna start a fight club with Josie and PJ?”
Hazel immediately perks up, telling you all about the idea that she and the girls had at lunch – you're sure 80% of it must have come from PJ, but you don't have the courage to interrupt her – and how they're going to get along and have fun with this and Hazel will teach everyone self defense techniques. She looks so much like a happy puppy that it warms your heart.
Unfortunately, you can't give her full attention to the conversation, being too involved in the way she gestures to process anything else.
Okay, maybe you're a little – just a little – obsessed with your girlfriend's hands.
“...You sure you don't want to?”
“Huh?”
Hazel's voice snaps you out of your reverie and she's staring at you with bright, expectant blue eyes.
“Are you sure you don't want to join?” She repeats.
“Hm-hm,” you mumble.
“Please?” She asks softly, “For me?”
You look away from her, because there's no way to deny anything if you're looking at that needy dog face, and you keep yourself looking at the old judo and jiu-jitsu trophies that she keeps on the shelves in the big room.
She really wants you to be part of this, but you know PJ and Josie are probably only doing it because they want to fuck someone and Hazel because she wants to make more friends, but the most you'd get from this club would be a broken nose or tooth, so no, thanks.
“I can come to see you at meetings and give you moral support, love.”
It's not exactly what she wanted, but you know you won. Hazel completely softens the moment you call her love, every single time.
Hazel lets out a long dramatic sigh, giving up her laptop and turning to wrap her arms around you, burying her face in your neck.
“Fine, but you’ll definitely change your mind when the club finally starts!” She declares.
You scoff, sinking into her touch when you feel her hands spread on your hips beneath your shirt comfortably.
“Do you really want to get into this with those two, Haze?” Your question breaks the established silence, somewhat uncertain.
Your girlfriend unfortunately had a tendency to not notice or just not stand up for herself when someone was mean to her and PJ and Josie weren't exactly known for being gentle with people, so Hazel running something with them made you quite apprehensive. Of course, you wouldn't do anything to change her mind since it was something she really seemed to want to do, but a little caution wouldn't hurt.
“Oh, they know what they're doing, babe,” she squeezes you a little tighter, “They were in juvie!”
You laugh, “No, they weren't.”
“Still.”
You keep your word and start attending all the fight club meetings – under PJ's complaints that you're not really doing anything –, busying yourself with cheering Hazel on during her turns and talking to Mr.G about any nonsense stuff that he wants to speak in the stands. It's actually quite fun, but you don't change your mind about the fighting part.
You start bringing water bottles as a treat to the girls while you're there and take on the role of tending to all of Hazel's injuries when it's all over – which is a lot, since they don't really seem to know what they're doing in the moment –, you find yourself being very good at it and probably would have become the whole group personal nurse if it weren't for the possessive look in bright blue eyes and the sad pout on Hazel's face when she watched you wipe the blood from a cut on Brittany's cheek and put on one of the cute little band-aids that were supposed to be only for her one day.
Besides all that, the most important thing is that you have a free pass to admire your girlfriend as much as you want and she looks great kicking ass and throwing punches. Especially throwing punches.
In your defense, the obsession with your girlfriend's hands, your girlfriend’s touch, is actually justified. The thing is, you never had many friends since you came to this weird school and neither did Hazel, so when you got together everything in your relationship was a little new; you found yourself suddenly starving for contact.
Holding hands, playing with the rings on her fingers, pats on the shoulders, arms around the body, hugs, caresses. It was simply impossible not to be aware of every little touch that Hazel gives you, even less impossible not to melt with them.
So yes, maybe you liked it a little too much when Hazel came to you asking to bandage her bruised knuckles just because it gave you the chance to touch her as much as you wanted, like now, at home.
“Ouch!”
“Stop moving, Haze,” you complain as you apply the antiseptic to her, “This will only make it worse.”
“But it hurts,” Hazel whimpers, pulling her injured hand to her chest protectively.
She's sitting on the bathroom sink, which probably wasn't very safe, but it was the best way for you to treat her and also where the first aid kit you were using was kept.
Today's fight seems to have been a little more serious than usual because Hazel's dominant hand is hurt. Like really hurt, with purple bruises already forming over the torn skin, so your spare band-aids weren't enough to take care of it. Now, if she would just let you handle it properly.
“That's bad, you're lucky it didn't break,” you say, taking her hand more gently to examine it, “Damn, what did that blue-haired girl do to you to make this happen?”
Hazel stays quiet, suddenly embarrassed and looking at anything else as you wrap a clean bandage around the wound.
"Then?" You press.
Hazel mumbles something slurred and unintelligible and you frown, not knowing what could have made her so embarrassed. With how easily that happens tho, you didn't have a good guess.
“I heard her talking to some girls before the meeting today.” She pauses, “Talking about you.”
“Oh,” you say, trying to pull away a little so you can look her in the eyes, but Hazel closes her legs around your waist so you can’t move, “Saying bad things?”
She shakes her head and swallows, her blush deepening.
“She said that she likes it when you come to see us,” her good hand grabs the front of your shirt, “Said she wanted to ask you out.”
“Oh, Haze–” You begin.
“She knew we were dating. She knew. But she kept talking about it and I– I got mad, so I hit her.”
Hazel says it all quickly as if it were a single sentence, but you understand anyway; she is nervous, keeping her eyes closed and looking down. She was jealous, still is, but she's also scared of what you'll think of her for it.
Screw it, you think, it's a fight club, people are going to get hurt sometimes. Now it's time to comfort your girlfriend.
“You beat the shit out of a girl for me?” You say, taking the bandaged hand gently and bringing it to your lips, “That’s hot.”
Hazel's face is so red it glows, “Babe,” she squeals.
"What?" You tease, leaving smacking kisses from fist to wrist, “She should know better than to say things like that for you to hear, how rude.”
Hazel’s pupils are dilated when her eyes meet yours, “You’re serious?”
“Hmm,” you hum, leaving a mark of lip gloss on her skin, “Like I would leave the best girlfriend in the world for someone else like that.”
She squirms in your grip, swallowing hard and trying to keep from stuttering and you can't help the giggle that escapes as you notice a shiver run through her.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” she whines.
“I’m not,” you shrug, innocently, “I’m just kissing it better.”
You think Hazel never really realized the effect her touch has on you until one day at the library.
There's no club meeting today, so when you make your way to the library after your last class, your girlfriend follows along beside you excitedly, rambling about her day and waving your hands together as you walk down the halls.
You had to study for a history test, so you find a table in the back where you like to stay while Hazel looks for a book nearby to entertain herself.
You just spend less than an hour focusing on memorizing dates and names your teacher sent to the next test before your ears pick up the clink of Hazel's rings against the antique wood of the table.
Your gaze shifts away without even realizing it, focusing on Hazel's drumming and immersed expression.
“Have any of your rings ever fallen off?” You ask with sudden curiosity, even after months together this had never occurred to you.
“Huh?” She lifts her head, “Oh, yes. Lots of them.”
Hazel stops for a moment to check it and adjust some looseness and you gently take the hand with the ring you gave her, running your thumb over the silly little smiley face plastered on it.
“I never take that one off,” she smiles.
“I noticed,” you laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up, “You might end up breaking your finger over this, you know? Or someone’s nose.”
“I was trying to be romantic,” Hazel snorts.
“Sorry, love,” you lean across the table closer to her, looking between the plastic ring, “I just gave that to you as a silly joke.”
Hazel tilts her head, that confused and bit sad puppy expression back on her face.
“Yeah?”
You nod, “One day I’ll give you a real one, with a real gem,” You can feel Hazel staring at you, her jaw is probably dropped, but you settle for shaking her hand, “A blue one. Will suit you.”
“You think so?” She sighs.
“Of course,” you find yourself saying, “I’ll give you the most beautiful one, the first one everyone will notice when they look at you.”
You look up to find Hazel. Just Hazel. With soft eyes, bright smile and hands full of rings.
There were moments – moments like this – when it felt like there were only the two of you in the world, when you couldn't see or feel anything but Hazel and you drowned in her completely.
Taking a deep breath, she leans over the table, hand letting go of yours to slide down your arm. You swear your skin crawls.
“Babe?” Hazel calls; you notice how she keeps her voice low for fear of ruining the moment, even though she's so clearly nervous.
You open your mouth and nothing comes out, the touch on your skin is cold but it feels like it's burning you from the inside out. What did you come here to do in the first place?
Hazel leans back under the forgotten book and you grab her wrist when she moves to keep her close.
“I– I would like that,” she says, eyes wide and face flushed, “Sounds good, I mean.”
"You deserve it. You deserve this and more, love,” You’re not really sure what ‘more’ is, especially for someone who can buy anything they want like Hazel. Maybe it’s all she wanted, all you could offer her; maybe it’s just you.
Hazel squeezes your hand, leaning in closer and running her thumb over your knuckles so gently that the noise you make is embarrassing. You think she's going to kiss you and maybe she would have, if it weren't for the angry shush! coming from the librarian near the bookshelves next to you two.
She only mentions it days later, when you're back in her bed, curled up in a familiar way while Hazel scrolls through her phone.
Her fingers are running through your hair, almost lulling you to sleep and you feel like you could do the same as the cat at the foot of the bed and melt into a purring puddle under her touch.
“You have a thing for my hands,” she comments out of nowhere, interrupting the peaceful atmosphere, a giggle in her tone.
“What?” You ask confused, using your arms to lean against her chest, “I do not.”
You know it's not true, but denying it is better than admitting something like that. Hazel gives you a look; she knows you better than that.
“But you do,” Hazel turns you in her arms and you let out a surprised squeak at the action when she finds yourself on top of you.
You shake your head, refusing to give in, but she runs her cold hands under your shirt, resting on the warm skin of your belly – this seems to be one of her favorite things to do.
“Jeez!” You hiss, “How can you be so cold all the time? You’re like a lizard.”
“Oh, I love lizards!”
“Haze!”
You squirm in her grip, but Hazel holds firm, an unusual confidence behind her actions.
“Admit it,” she asks with a smirk, “You have a thing for my hands.”
“I have a thing for you.”
The cocky little smile she has every time she touches you for the next week is totally worth it – and it's also totally kissable.
1K notes · View notes
mmani-e · 12 days
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Hello! After all this effort, behold:
DANGANRONPA DEMIX, THH EDITION!
Finally got the talentswap designs I have for the THH characters one and done with! You can click through the read more section for some fun design insights. I'm intending on uploading a doc containing short lore bits about them eventually.
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Kyoko Kirigiri - Ultimate Affluent Progeny
So Kyoko's design was both kinda simple, kinda not, wanted to give her a very fine and regal kinda attitude to her but not arrogant as that's very much Byakuya's thing. Her story is that she loves her dad more than the family business and her grandpa so she abandons detective work and just uses her brain to help her dad out.
Makoto Naegi - Ultimate Novelist
Makoto is a wonderful guy, just great all around. He loves writing children's books and happy stories. This is his main coping mechanism so he doesn't have to process any negative emotions he gets, the rest he can't process… well they go into a murderous psychopath alter.
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Aoi Asahina - Ultimate Lucky Student
Shoujo protagonist Aoi. Cute, headstrong, affective, competitive, these are all the traits that make her fight for her friends and clash with Kyoko (and more often than not Byakuya) in the killing game, even when all hope seems lost… she pushes through, unafraid to let tears spill from her eyes for all those lost, but pushing all the same.
Byakuya Togami - Ultimate Detective
This one, I wanna go into more lore territory, cause I kinda memed around his last desc I gave him so here goes:
"A disgraced heir of the Togami household, Byakuya lost the competition that would've secured his riches. Disdainful and bitter, he sought out to get to the bottom of why he lost, uncovering a rabbit hole in the process. By the end, he proved his sibling a cheater, but it didn't matter because by the end as he found the sweet satisfaction of uncovering secrets and crushing liars and cheaters under the weight of their hubris far more satisfying than any inheritance."
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Sayaka Maizono - Ultimate Spirit Medium
So Sayaka isn't a clairvoyant at all like Yasuhiro, in fact her entire skillset is completely different, first of all she is like an actual psychic, and I based her design off of the japanese Itako, quite loosely. Very interesting group, look it up, also she'll never use these powers in the killing game because I dunno how to even approach these rituals or what they look like or how to write them while remaining respectful, so she won't do it in a killing game for the express reason of her not having the right tools available and not wanting to disrespect her traditions.
Leon Kuwata - Ultimate Swimmer
I really wanna draw him again, all these characters again tbh, and I wanna show off the patterns on his wetsuit. It's a whole coral reef under there, that anemone and clownfish bit is only one part of a whole reef stretching his midline.
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Sakura Ogami - Ultimate Programmer
Sakura has installed chips into her body to help optimize her body processes and also cause why not. As for the muscles, she's an Assembly programmer, the programs she's made can run on calculators she loves it.
Chihiro Fujisaki - Ultimate Martial Artist
Chihiro's design here with the two belts is an explicit nod to his preferred martial art - Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, so unlike Sakura in canon who'd be easy to imagine cracking someone's skull in half with a chop, Chihiro's approach is more crawling onto someone and bringing them down to the floor with grappling like an angry halfling monk. As for the belts themselves, on his head is his final junior belt, while around his waist is his current belt, he's not a black belt yet because he's still too young for it.
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Celestia Ludenberg - Ultimate Baseball Star
Celestia actually isn't a legend in this AU, Taeko is. Celestia hates that and wants to start a baseball career going international, whatever the hell that means is up to her own definition, but she wants to be remembered forever as Celestia, not Taeko. Also extra sentence, but this is the SINGLE hardest design I've ever had to deal with here, I think in the future I'll be drawing all her little accessories and I have an alt costume for her I have in mind.
Hifumi Yamada - Ultimate Pop Star
So I changed Hifumi's story as I originally outlined in the OG post with him. He was friends with Aoi all his life, pretty much his only friend at all, and ever since he was little he had an obsession with writing songs, because he was obsessed with stuff like anime openings and was content to just keep the songs to himself. It wasn't till Aoi convinced him to share some of his songs that he started his journey to success, but bc he's not traditionally attractive, his first hits were literally just… his voice being played over other more attractive singers and it wasn't until very very recently that he even performed a song of his for the first time.
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Toko Fukawa - Ultimate Fanfic Writer
So while Hifumi was clearly a Doujinshi but due to weird translation, ended up as fanfic creator, Touko is straight up a FF then Wattpad then AO3 girl, who would get obsessed with this really shitty, tripe manga that she didn't even like reading. It did however have super hot dudes in it, so she wrote good stories of those characters when she got frustrated with the actual authorial content - which was always.
Yasuhiro Hagakure - Ultimate Gambler
Quite LITERALLY the never stop gambling meme personified into a guy. He can lose 3 mil on slot machines but always comes out fine because it means if he keeps gambling he'll eventually run into his 1/3 and win giga millions, what he needs to pay off his debts. It isn't just with luck though either because his personality and lack of intelligence or understanding of most the rules of the games he plays means he'll never react the way he should when getting a good hand in poker or a bad draw in blackjack, so he wins those games almost always through just… stupidity.
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Mukuro Ikusaba - Ultimate Biker
She's number 16 in her gang, and is easily the most loyal enforcer and taskman of the gang. She does anything she's told, to a grim and disciplined degree not typical for hooligan bike gangers, she doesn't really desire a seat as top dog of the gang though, after all she's got school to worry about, and her sister.
Mondo Owada - Ultimate Warlord
So his relationship and Kiyotaka's is gonna be interesting, because I don't want him to be exactly like Mukuro at all, who was just sort of an all-obsessed Yandere. It's more like he's always chafing under Taka, who is less than friendly with him in this AU, really the main way he even lets Taka boss him around is because he pays incredibly well and helps keep his gang members from devolving back into the unstructured, chaotic criminal life, the same that took his brother years ago.
Oh and yeah, he still looks like Guile, as he should.
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Sparkling Justice - Ultimate Killer Killer
Yeah it's a reference to Killer Killer, sue me I love the manga. He has Hajirahara's ahoge, and I thought it'd be cute to also give him a mask just like the other Makoto from a Kodaka game series (Raincode.) Also, while Genocide jack stuffs all her scissors in her skirt, Makoto keeps a truth gun with "truth bullets" as his main weapon, the gun he stores inside the big book in the chibi of just Makoto, and the bullets kept on his person as the red buttons all over his body, which he pulls out when he needs to reload.
"Kiyotaka Ishimaru" - Ultimate Fashionista
Unlike Mukuro and Junko, Mondo absolutely cannot hide the fact that he acts nothing like Kiyotaka, though this is surprisingly fine to everyone else, because unlike Junko who plastered herself onto literally everything, Mondo always obfuscated himself from the public spotlight, at most showing only his suits while he hid his face behind something conveniently placed. Which played primarily to his vision of an ultimate fashionista, who was above everyone and catered to the rich and powerful.
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Junko Enoshima - Ultimate Moral Compass
This was a fun one, I decided to let her have her red hair because I believe it to be the "natural" look of her hair, while attaching little clips of dyed hair to her buns as a replacement to keep her shape sorta and keep the strawberry blonde somwehere on her. Understand that while she is the "moral compass" she is still pretty deranged, and the only reason she focuses so much on keeping everyone on their best behavior is because it's endlessly entertaining to her to make her fellow moral committee members upset when she blatantly makes a mockery of the rules while still keeping kids on their best behavior to make a point.
Kiyotaka Ishimaru - Ultimate Fashionista and Tyrant, the Iron Hand of Despair
Taka's design I wanted to sort of focus on this sort of, holier-than-thou idea, where I wanted to make him look a lot fancier and upper-class than Junko does in his standard highschool fit compared to him. I wanted him to have an upper-crust sort of look
If you're reading this after reading this all, thanks! You're a wonderful person :) Signing off...
Mani
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jiujitsunews · 1 year
Video
Ready to level up your BJJ skills? Watch our latest video to learn about the white belt, key techniques, and the mindset for improvement. Boost your journey with this fantastic martial art!
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thedensworld · 6 months
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Welcome to Densworld🌼
Masterlist
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den | aries | infp-a | she/her | carat💎 ahgase🐥 |
His wife suddenly went missing. There are two possibilities, his best friend has hid her from him or she literally left him.
1. Found You | Choi Seungcheol
2. Lover Series | Kim Mingyu
Mingyu's love life has became more interesting since you came
3. On Scene | Yoon Jeonghan
Yoon Jeonghan, once a dedicated police officer, finds himself embroiled in a web of corruption and is subsequently transferred to a unit that is shunned by his colleagues. Just when he thought his life couldn't get any more complicated, a murder case emerges, and it appears to be connected to his ex-girlfriend.
4. Healing Hues | Jeon Wonwoo
Exhausted by the monotony of his life as a celebrity, Wonwoo makes a pivotal decision to return to his childhood hometown and embark on a heartwarming project: building a small library named 'Healing Hues.' Little does he know, this journey will lead to a series of unexpected and transformative events.
5. To The Rescue | Jeon Wonwoo
Eight years had passed since you and Wonwoo last worked together, but fate had other plans. The case you thought was behind you resurfaced, pulling you back into the world you thought you'd left behind.
6. Doesn't Mind At All | Hong Jisoo
Joshua willingly agrees to pick up his boss's daughter from school, not realizing that this simple task would lead to an unexpected encounter with his longtime crush.
7. Sweet Macaroons | Choi Seungcheol
Seungcheol was far from pleased when a food critic posted a negative review that started to impact your sales. He couldn't stand to see you upset.
8. Mind Date | Hong Jisoo
Joshua has the power of mind control, enabling him to get anything he wants by influencing people's minds. Suddenly, he meets you, someone he can't control at all.
9. Even When We're Drown, We're Still Breathing | Kim Mingyu
Mingyu was missing the spotlight he used to have, so he decided to accept the offer to shoot a reality show about marriage life and parenting. However, his wife was in a different situation.
10. Don't Touch Mine | Yoon Jeonghan
Jeonghan had hid his feelings for you, but he had been in denial. Then, an unexpected event occurred, and everything changed.
11. Post-Magazine | Kim Mingyu
It was an honor for Mingyu to collaborate with a well-known magazine. But this job made him realize that love at first sight is real.
12. Where to Sign? | Choi Seungcheol
Seungcheol is about to sign the pre when you said this thing to him
13. Guilty Flower | Choi Seungcheol
Seungcheol accepted his mother offer to meet you, his potential future wife said his mother, without knowing what kind of person you are.
14. Naming is Fun | Kim Mingyu
Mingyu knows that you are his laugh button, but he can't believe your suggestion over the baby name.
15. Now You're Safe With Me | Choi Seungcheol
Seungcheol received several missed calls from you, and he knew they weren't just regular phone calls.
16. Forever His | Choi Seungcheol
You found out that Seungcheol was marrying you for your property and wealth while you're pregnant with his child. What would you do? Let him go or play a fool?
17. Piece of Origami | Kim Mingyu
you have no idea that you're this untalented in making a paper fold—origami until your kid ask you to make one
18. What A Fate | Yoon Jeonghan
Who would have thought your next meeting after having a one-night stand would be this unexpected?
19. Perfect Pairing | Choi Seungcheol
Mafia Seungcheol has to face a fact that he found his bestfriend's long-searched sister. However she is a NIS agent who was ordered to terminate him.
20. What a Sweep | Choi Seungcheol
Seungcheol brimmed with excitement as he prepared to teach you some Jiu-Jitsu moves, little did he knows, you would nearly send him into a heart attack.
21. Ten Years | Jeon Wonwoo
In hospital Wonwoo is a doctor, and back to house he is your husband. However, your sudden conditions make him choose.
22. Everything | Choi Seungcheol
You come to him in the middle of the night, plan to end him immediately. However everything change.
23. What A Revenge | Yoon Jeonghan (Part 2 of What A Fate)
After an unexpected rendezvous after a one night stand, Jeonghan asked Mingyu to set him up with you. However you had a different situation and it's getting complicated.
24. Falling Flower | Kim Mingyu
Mingyu never thought that he would find Y/n, his friend's secretary, attractive. What's started from eyes, physical, has fallen to his heart. As he tries to get to know you, he realizes he knew nothing about you.
25. Rewind Button | Jeon Wonwoo
If Wonwoo had a time machine, he would definitely go to crash your wedding.
26. Flower Bloomed | Kim Mingyu (Part 2 of Falling Flower)
It's been a year since Mingyu and you were married. Once united by a good feeling, has started to scatter, both you and Mingyu couldn't find reason to stay together.
27. Your Best Man | Jeon Wonwoo
Wonwoo has tried his best to become the best man you've ever met. At the end, he is the best man.
28. Stupid Cupid | Kim Mingyu
You must be the reason why he's been nervous for tonight's event. There must be something that Cupid has been doing.
30. Hold On Tight | Yoon Jeonghan (Part 3 of What a Fate)
What's started for a revenge and status has developed into something Jeonghan couldn't comprehend. He unconsciously were willing to do anything and it was only for you.
31. Alone At Night | Kim Mingyu
Mingyu has no idea until he had to sleepover in your house because of the rain. In fact, it hurts him.
To be continued ;)
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e n j o y, joy! -dk
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silentglassbreak · 2 months
Note
What if the reader and Noah have been training together with Ash, doing kickboxing and all that. They haven't hung out together, but one day, Noah invites the reader over. They find out that they have more in common than they realize.
You can make this cute, romantic, fluff, smutty...you do you :)
Ahhh mi mayor amor, this ask holds a special place in my heart. I trained martial arts for a long time. This sounds like a lot of fun. Now, I will forewarn you, I’ve never done a reader perspective fic before. I’m nervous. The Y/N thing scares me, but I’m going to take a crack at it. Honest feedback is appreciated! After writing notes: I'm so FUCKING evil. :)
Ratings: Explicit
Warnings: Hehehehehe.......
Vices
“Damn it!” My hand tapped the leg cinched around my throat, my mouth guard nearly choking me as I struggled.
The grip loosened and I rolled backward over my head, fist punching the mat beneath me. The Dutch braids my hair was in was faltering, and I stared at the man in front of me.
“What the fuck am I doing wrong?!”
“Calm down, Y/N. You’re going to get this.” Ash, despite being covered in a thin layer of sweat, was smiling warm at me, trying to calm my frustration.
“We’ve been at this for twenty fucking minutes, dude! I keep getting locked the fuck up!” My hands gestured in front of me, my backside rested on my heels.
“You’ve only been doing Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu for three months. You’re still learning. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He moved to stand. “You want to take a break?”
I stood as well, leaning down into my stance. “No. Let’s go again.”
Ash quirked a brow, defeated, and shook his head, bending down as well. Before I could reach for him, a voice echoed from behind me, disrupting my focus.
“You’re too tense. You need to shake off some of that rage you got there, doll.”
I snapped my head over, inadvertently whipping myself in the mouth with the end of my braid.
Noah stood, tall and sweaty, leaning against one of the heavy punching bags lining the back wall of the room. A towel was draped over his left shoulder, his water bottle in his hand. I narrowed my eyes at him.
“If I wanted your opinion, dick, I would’ve asked for it.”
He threw his hands up defensively. “Just trying to help.”
Scoffing, I turned back around to ready myself. “Sure. I believe that.”
If there was anyone in this gym that I considered a nemesis, it was Noah ‘Dickwad’ Sebastian. I couldn’t fucking stand him. He was arrogant, unbearably fucking tall, and insanely fucking irritating.
We met for the first time when I joined the gym three months ago. He had been training here only six months longer than I, and from the beginning, he was constantly poking a fucking stick at me. It didn’t make sense, and I didn’t fucking care.
I learned through whispers in the gym that he was in a band, so when I googled him and learned what he did for a living, I wasn’t impressed in the slightest.
So what if he could sing? Didn’t make him any less intolerable. He wouldn’t sing too well if I stuck my foot down his throat, anyway.
Had I added a few of his songs to my workout playlist? Maybe. That's beside the point.
Ash wrapped me up in the arm bar yet again, my wrist screaming at me to tap out before it snapped in two. My fingers tapped his leg, and he released me.
“Alright Fireball, that’s enough for one day.” He stood, walking over to his corner where he kept his bag and water.
I noticed Noah had left, so I relaxed, straightening my shirt and making my way over to my own bag next to Ash.
“What am I doing wrong, dude? Seriously?”
He shrugged. “Honestly? You’re just off right now. Did something happen today?”
Rolling my eyes, I sprayed water into my mouth. “My bitch of a mother called me this morning.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That angered you?” His question was sincere. I didn’t share a lot about my personal life with my gym mates.
“It did.” Was all I gave before I slung my bag over my shoulder and slipped my slides on.
He nodded in approval. “Trying to train angry never works. It makes you unfocused. That’s why we do breathing exercises beforehand.” He placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Try to let it go. We’ll work on it more tomorrow.”
His words calmed my fried nerves ever so slightly, and I grinned at him.
“Thanks Ash. I’ll see you then.”
-
Life really fucking blows sometimes. The last week had been a shit show and a half, and I was exhausted. I hadn’t been back to the gym because work had kept me busy, then I got rear-ended, totaling my ‘98 Corolla, and had been dodging calls from my Mom every hour like clockwork.
Needless to say, when I stepped foot into the gym, the smell of perspiration and mat cleaner was like a breath of fresh air.
My eyes searched, noticing an unfamiliar class going. I spotted Ash, whose eyes flashed over to me before he halted his spar, and jogged over.
“Hey, you okay? Haven’t seen you in over a week.”
I nodded. “Rough few days, but I’m good now.”
He smiled, but a look of concern crossed his face.
“Gosh, Y/N, I’m sorry, but we’re not running regular classes this week. There’s a tournament on the weekend, we’ve got to train our competitors.”
My mood fell, my shoulders going with it. I needed the relief. I needed to train.
Ash saw my eyes, and a sympathetic look crossed his face. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called.”
I shook my head, waving a hand. “No, no. That’s okay. I totally understand.”
He chewed the inside of his lip, peering around the room. A sly smile perked up on his lips.
“Come here.” He motioned for me to follow, which I did, kicking my sandals off before entering the mat, giving a quick bow.
When we rounded the corner into the back of the gym, my feet halted just before the line of bags. Only one person was there, gloves and shin guards on, practicing his combinations.
Oh hell no.
“Y/N, why don’t you spar with Noah?”
My jaw dropped as he stopped mid-hook, pulling an earbud out. “What’s up?”
His chestnut brown hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his eyes were widened slightly. I suddenly felt very exposed, only in a sports bra and fitness leggings.
“Would you be willing to spar with Y/N?”
Noah’s eyes made a show of looking me up and down, a devious grin creeping over his face.
“Oh, of course.”
I snorted, looking at Ash. “Are you insane?”
He shrugged. “You’re my only two not competing. It gives you a way to train.”
Holding up a hand toward Noah, my voice raised several octaves. “How am I supposed to spar with him?! He’s a fucking tree!” I motioned to my own height. “I’m only five fucking three!”
Ash’s eyes narrowed at me, clearly not amused with my tantrum.
“Listen, this is the only solution I have for you this week. If you don’t want to, totally fine.” He interlocked his fingers. “But I think it would be good for you.” He glanced between us. “Both of you.”
And just like that, he left.
Noah stared at me now, waiting for my decision. I just shook my head and snarled. “Fuck this.”
Turning to leave, I heard his voice call after me. “Yeah, figured you’d be too scared.”
I froze mid-step, craning my neck to look back at him.
“Excuse me?”
“I get it. I’m intimidating.” He was unhooking his shin guards, tossing them to the side.
“Are you, now?” I turned back around, arms crossing over my chest.
His gloves went next, falling next to his bag. “Obviously.”
“You’re way out of my weight class, Noah.”
He smirked. “Calling me fat?”
I rolled my eyes. What a fucking douche.
“You have an unfair advantage with your long noodle limbs.”
He sucked his teeth, taking a short drink of water. “Having fun insulting me today, huh?”
“Doesn’t change the circumstance.”
“You joined martial arts for self defense, right?”
I jutted my hip out. “So?”
He set down his bottle, running long tattooed fingers through his damp hair.
“So, you think every attacker is going to be the same size and weight as you?”
This gave me pause. He had a point.
I let my bag fall casually off my shoulder, holding my arms up in defeat.
“Fine.” I stepped forward to the middle of the mat. “You want to spar? Let’s do it.”
His eyes sparkled, which made my breath catch for a second, as he walked over to me.
His long form bowed forward as I did, before we bent down in our stance.
It was as I expected; infuriating.
His arms could nearly wrap me around twice. His legs were surprisingly strong, his thighs much more muscular than I had originally anticipated. I kept having to tap, which was making me angrier with each match.
“This is bullshit!”
He hopped on the mat, keeping his blood flowing. “You’re overthinking it. Going rigid.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Fuck that. I’m just too fucking small for this.”
He shook his head, eyes locked on my face. “You’re not. You need to let go. Quit thinking about it so hard.”
We restarted, and I let his words soak in. Feeling my heart beating, my lungs breathing, I let my body instinctively take over. Noah’s thighs wrapped around my waist, but I managed to wrap and arm between them, breaking his grip. Before I could celebrate my victory, he wrapped an arm around my neck, holding me in a reverse choke.
I had to stop and think. Lifting my arm, I found his neck, and locked in tight, causing him to double over, and his arm to slip.
I flipped away from him and stood back up, hands out and waiting. He grabbed me, but I was faster, sprawling low and taking out his right leg before wrapping his ankle in a crushing grip.
I felt his fingers tap my leg three times, and released him, squealing in excitement.
Jumping to my feet, I clapped my hands together, smiling wildly.
“I fucking did it!”
He laid flat on the mat, breathing heavily, and gave me a weak thumbs up. I stood over him, bent at the waist, and smiled as sugary as possible.
“You okay Daddy Long Legs?”
He lowered his eyebrows and licked his lips. “I like when you call me Daddy.”
Snickering, I stood up, reaching a hand out for him to use to stand up. Once on his feet, he padded over to his water bottle.
It had already been an hour, when I had the sense to check the time.
“Damn, I’ve got to get home. The cat needs to be fed.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Same time tomorrow?”
I smirked, shouldering my bag. “If you’re not too scared.”3
-
After three training sessions with Noah, I could feel my perspective of him begin to change ever so subtly. Sure, he was still a perverted douche, but he was also a really dedicated sparring partner. He was always on time, he was interested in my progress, and gave some pretty honest feedback about my technique.
Did I hate seeing him every day? No. Not exactly. I didn’t want to go as far as to say I enjoyed his company, but maybe I wore my nicer sports bras to the gym? Maybe my braids were pulled a little tighter because he was rough with them? Maybe I wore a light mist of body spray before I got there?
Maybe.
So, to my disappointment, come Wednesday, our fourth day training together, he wasn’t already there when I walked in. My face fell when I rounded the corner, expecting to catch him warming up on the bag. I had come to look forward to our banter back and forth prior to training. I also looked forward to watching him hit the bag, but I knew that was just because of his form. It was…exceptional.
Considering he could be stuck in traffic, or had a prior engagement, I decided to start warming up without him.
I made quick work of wrapping my hands and slipping my gloves on before starting my music and assaulting the bag in front of me. I let my mind wander while I pushed each combination out, using my emotions to channel the force.
Before I realized, I had listened to nearly half of my workout playlist, and there was still no sign of him. My head glanced around, and a deep feeling settled on my chest.
As much as I didn’t like the guy, it would’ve been nice for him to mention he wasn’t coming today. When I saw him yesterday, he didn’t say anything about skipping today. I couldn’t ask him myself. I didn’t know his number or any way to reach him.
Deciding it wasn’t worth the irritation, I stepped back from my bag, and began removing my gloves, tucking them back into my bag. As I did so, a flash flew by my peripheral vision, and I stood straight, noticing him.
Noah had walked - no, stomped on to the mat, flung his bag down, earbuds already in and blasting loudly in his ears, and hastily grabbed his gloves out, slipping them on.
I just stood, staring at him, leaning against my respective bag. He paid me no attention, not even glancing in my direction. Something had him pissed. His face had turned a harsh shade of crimson, only darkening as he went at the bag, his voice letting out sharp exclamations every so often.
Carefully, I took three steps closer, touching the bag next to him, eyes searching all over for a sign of what made him so angry. What had happened? Noah was one of the coolest cucumbers I had met in a long time, never bothered by seemingly anything.
Who had hurt him?
Deciding to chance it, knowing he couldn’t hear me, I let my fingers lightly touch the bag he punched during one of his ten second breaks.
For the first time, his eyes looked at me, and were almost black with the rage they held. It made me startle, my eyes widening.
“Noah?”
He rubbed at his ear with his glove, making one earbud fall out. “Not today, Y/N.”
His words didn’t leave room for pressure or questions.
Unfortunately for him, I’m not one to heed a warning.
Narrowing my eyes, I took a step forward as he raised his gloves again, standing between him and the bag still swaying.
His shoulders tensed, and he lowered his gloves, glaring at me.
“Move.”
I crossed my arms, and raised an eyebrow.
“Or what?”
“Or I will move you.”
Pursing my lips, I contemplated this. He could, if he wanted to.
“No.”
“Y/N, I’m not asking.” His voice was deadly.
“I’m not moving. Not until you talk to me.”
He furrowed his brow, incredulous. “About what?”
“What has you so upset?”
He bared his teeth, irritation rising. “Since when do we talk? You don’t even like me.”
Uncrossing my arms and opening myself a bit to show I wasn’t trying to be a complete pain in the ass, I shrugged. “I don’t dislike you.”
He scoffed, slipping his gloves off. “Since fucking when?”
“Since you turned out to be more tolerable than I originally thought.”
He shook his head, taking a long gulp from his bottle. “Thanks, doll. Appreciate that.”
Still raging, but slightly more approachable, I took a step toward where he stood at his gym bag.
“C’mon Noah. Maybe sparring will make you feel better?”
He waved at me, disregarding me. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Because…?” I leaned closer to where he was bent over the bag, unwrapping his hands.
“I don’t want to talk about it, alright?”
Standing up straight, I adjusted my sports bra, which I noticed his eyes caught.
“Then grapple with me.” My solution was simple.
After a moment of careful consideration, he eventually stood back up, staring as I made my way to the middle of the mat.
We bowed, and he leaned down, hands up. “I’m not holding back today.”
I smirked. “Please don’t. I want it all, baby boy.”
This triggered him, his hips dropping to the mat in a hard sprawl, arms wrapping up my waist, dropping me like a hot rock on my back. The air rushed from my lungs before I could prevent the grip he held on my torso. His arms squeezed me in a hard choke, but I wasn’t tapping today.
I managed to get a hand under his left thigh, bending it back at a long angle, making his grip falter just enough to get turned around in his arms. My head slipped loose, but he was back on me. Impossibly strong hands gripped my left thigh, flipping me onto my back. My legs instinctively wrapped around his midsection while he tried to get a grasp on my forearm, to which I squirmed, putting pressure on his rib cage with my legs.
A heavy, deep growl escaped his throat, which made my thighs involuntarily twitch around him. I don’t think he noticed. He was angry, fighting something other than myself at this moment.
His arms came up under mine, and he lifted me off of the ground, and dropped me back into my ass hard, popping my legs open.
My limbs sprawled out on the mat, my breath coming heavily, I looked up at him, wide-eyed. He kneeled over me, hair hanging off of his face in sweat-soaked tendrils, threatening to touch my forehead.
We sat there while I watched the darkness in his eyes dissolve, his breathing getting more and more even. The scowl on his face softened for a moment, and I couldn’t help when my hands reached up to grip his sides, squeezing in a hard grasp.
Noah was hurting. I didn’t know why. Something or someone had hurt him. And here, in this moment, I had him.
We knew so little of each other. Only having spent time in this safe haven together, we had bonded over the last few days, and I knew I was the only person who could relax the fire raging behind his chest right now.
“Noah?” I whispered into the space between us, fighting the urge to touch his face.
“Thanks.”
I quirked a brow. “For what?”
“Being here.”
Smiling, I pressed my fingers harder into his sides. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You did. You don’t even know it, but you did.”
I did know, but hearing him say it gave me a small flutter in my chest.
“Anytime.”
I tapped my code into my phone, and opened the Uber app. Zipping my sweater against the cool spring air, I began the process of searching for a driver to take me home.
“Hey.” I turned to see him walking out behind me. “Headed home?”
I nodded. “Yeah, just got to wait for a driver.” I waved my phone for show.
“You have to call an Uber? Where’s your car?”
Shrugging, I looked back down at the app that stated it was still looking for a driver.
“Got totaled last week.”
He walked over to me. “Damn, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“No big deal.”
His eyes bounced between me, and the parking lot where his shiny black Navigator sat under the moonlight.
“Want a ride?”
I shook my head. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can get an Uber.”
He smiled, all sense of his earlier anger wiped clean. “I promise I’m cheaper.” His keys twirled around his long fingers.
I smirked, and closed my app. “Alright.”
The drive to my house wasn’t long, but before we even made it out of the parking lot, he looked over to me. “Hungry?”
I was leaned back, sending my mother a text. “Uh,” I locked my phone. “I mean, I never eat heavy after a workout.”
He nodded. “Same. But there’s a Yogurtland up the street?”
My lips pinched together. “What’s that?”
He turned out of the parking lot, but still managed to stare at me. “Frozen yogurt?”
I just threw my hands up. “Never had it.”
The look he gave me was as if I was insane. “You’ve never had frozen yogurt?”
“Isn’t it essentially just ice cream?”
He shook his head. “No. Not at all. It’s better.”
“Pfft. I doubt that.”
He turned into the parking lot of the yogurt place, and enthusiastically jumped out of the truck. In the few minutes it took for us to get there, I had been working my Dutch braids out, letting my dark hair loose, waves set in from the style. Letting myself out of the truck, I stopped short when I noticed him standing in front of the store, staring at me.
“What?”
He had the smallest, most amused smile tugging at his lips. “Your hair.”
I walked toward him. “What? Is it all fucked up?” I started tousling it, pulling at the tangles.
“No. It looks nice. I’ve never seen it down.”
I thought about it. I always kept my braids in at the gym. I wasn’t trying to have it ripped from my scalp.
“Oh.” A hot blush crept up my neck. “Thanks.”
I slipped in the door past him toward the counter. He proceeded to spend five whole minutes explaining flavors, toppings, mixes, and syrups to add.
After I finally elected for a simple vanilla with raspberries on top, and he went with chocolate with Oreo pieces, we found a small table and sat down.
He watched intently as I tried it, waiting for a reaction. I was pleasantly surprised.
“So?” I glanced up at him. “What do you think?”
Swallowing my spoonful, I nodded. “I’m impressed. Still like ice cream better.”
He rolled his eyes digging into his own cup.
“So,” I started, mixing my raspberries in. “you think you’re ready to talk about it?”
He stopped, his spoon halfway to his mouth, and eyed me curiously. “Why do you want to know?”
My yogurt was already starting to melt. “I’m just wondering. You were pretty upset tonight.”
He just nodded, looking into his cup, pushing the Oreos around. “I was.”
“You don’t actually have to tell me. I just know from experience that it usually helps.”
“Does it?” He still wasn’t looking at me.
“It can. Especially with someone who doesn’t know about it.”
I watched as his throat moved when he swallowed. “I’ve got a friend…” He stopped. “Had a friend. He passed away a couple years ago.”
I just sat, watching him, giving him space.
“We released a song with his band. It was a tribute sort of thing.” Dropping his cup, he leaned back. “Anyway, it came out about a week ago.”
He had stopped speaking, fingernail picking at the cuticle on his thumb.
“And it made you upset?”
“It hurt.” The sound of his voice was a soft echo, the words catching behind his tonsils.
The overwhelming temptation to stand up and wrap my arms around him gnawed at me as I watched his eyes well up, his face twisting to try and push them back down.
Instead, I settled on reaching a hand across the table, slipping my fingers around his wrist.
His eyes gazed up at me, and he gave me the most heartbreaking smile.
“I’ll be alright. It was just a gut punch, you know?”
Grazing a thumb over his tattoos, I stared at him deeply, attempting to convey my condolences.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Noah.”
A sniffle cleared the air, and he lifted a hand to make quick work of wiping his eyes.
“Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it.”
-
After yogurt, I made it a point to make sure Noah had my cell number in case he ever needed to talk. I almost regretted it, as he had been sending me memes nearly since we parted ways last night.
When I stepped into the gym, the energy was fervent. Fighters rolling around the mats in all directions, preparing for the approaching competition.
I made my way to the back, now quickly becoming a normal routine, and hid my excitement when I was met with chocolate brown eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile.
Noah was sitting on the mat, stretching his long limbs, so I quickly set my bag down and joined him. Each time I would change positions, a finger would come up to poke me in the side, making me almost fall.
“Knock it off!” I swatted at his hand, an involuntary giggle escaping.
“Just making sure you’re loosened up! I’m not taking it easy on you!”
I shook my head, standing back up straight. “Is that what yesterday was? Because I think my tailbone is bruised now.”
He cackled. “You want me to rub it for you?” He threw a wink at me, and I felt my insides spasm.
“Not necessary. Just remember, I’m a lady.”
He scoffed loud. “Yeah, and I’m an acrobat.”
My jaw dropped. “Oh, you’re in for it Sebastian.”
We had been grappling for longer than normal, each round both of us wanting more. We would laugh when we made the other tap out, mocking each other playfully, forcing the other to be even more savage during the next match. Our bodies were both broken out in a heavy sweat, slipping over each other and leaving a wet sheen on the mat.
"Motherfucker!" I squealed when he pulled me up in another arm bar while I kicked my legs up, trying to hook onto him anywhere I possibly could.
"C'mon doll, tap out."
I snarled at him, trying not to jostle my arm too much. My hips fought for leverage, but his legs over my stomach made it impossible to lift myself.
"You're not getting out of this, Y/N. Tap out."
"Fuck you!"
He chuckled. "If you insist."
Fucking perv.
After another two minutes of struggling, I finally huffed and tapped his shin. He released me instantly, popping up on his feet.
"Sorry, doll. We need to work on that one." He sprayed water in his mouth and I glared at him from where I sat on the mat.
"Quit calling me doll."
He smirked, walking over to hand me my own water. "Why? You know you like it."
I snorted. "No, I fucking don't."
"You do."
Rolling my eyes, I kicked at his legs. He just laughed at me.
Plopping down on the mat next to me, he bumped my shoulder. "You're improving a lot, you know."
I smiled. "Thanks. I feel like I am."
"The arm bar is the worst. I can barely get out of them myself."
Leaning back on my hands, I stretched. "Ugh, I should get home."
Rising up on my feet, I made my way over to my bag.
"Oh."
This made me turn around. Did he sound...sad?
"What?" I asked him while wiping my forehead with a towel.
"I was just having fun." He stood, walking to his bag and mirroring my actions.
This made me smile. "Same time tomorrow?"
He pulled his lips to the side, thinking about something he wasn't saying out loud. I ignored it, now wiping the sweat from the back of my neck.
"I mean, or we could," He hesitated, grinning and looking nervous. "hang out?"
I dropped my towel back in my bag. "Hang out?"
"Yeah, like last night."
"You want to get yogurt again?"
He shouldered his bag, and I did the same. We walked toward the edge of the mat, bowing out.
"We don't have to. Could get pizza?"
"Mm, I don't eat heavy after a workout."
He nodded. "Right." We made our way out of the gym. "We could...go to my place?"
My eyebrows shot up, surprised. "Your place?"
His eyes popped open wide, just now realizing what he had suggested, and how it sounded.
"I just mean to hang out! We could like, order food and play video games or something?" His words came out rushed, nearly stumbling over one another.
I smirked, pulling my hoodie over my head to protect from the chill. "I'm a sweaty mess."
"So am I." Noah took a step into my space, eyes looking down at me. "Doesn't bother me."
Ending up at Noah Sebastian's house was not on the agenda for today. Somehow, however, I stood in his living room, eyes darting around, hand firmly grasping my gym bag.
"You want something to drink?"
I snapped out of my trance and looked at him. "Uh, sure."
My feet followed him while he listed off the options. "I've got water, Gatorade, green tea, and Dr. Pepper."
Opting for water, he reached into the fridge and tossed it at me, grabbing one for himself and motioning for me to follow after him. He lead me up a tall, wrapping staircase down the hall to a bedroom at the end. The room was obsessively clean, making me feel wrong just stepping foot inside.
"This is it. It's not much." He ran a hand through his hair, spreading his arm out toward the room.
His words were comical, given the room was massive. A large, king sized bed the centerpiece. A rolling trunk sat on the floor at the edge, and his comforter and pillows were black. Tucked into the corner was a computer desk with a double monitor gaming setup perched on top. There was a loveseat futon sat on the side of the room with a small table sitting in front. Various anime figures adorned the surface of the table, and LED strip lights hung along the perimeter of the room.
"I didn't, uh," His face was turned up in a grin. "really think about what we would do once we got here."
Taking a careful step into the room, I smiled back at him. "Food?"
His eyes widened, and he pulled his phone from his pocket. "Right! What do you feel like?"
Attempting to ease the awkward tension, I walked over to the couch and sat down. "I'm pretty simple. Anything works."
He was scrolling, looking at his screen. "Sandwiches?"
I leaned back on the couch, nodding. "Sure."
After about an hour, we had fallen into a comfortable rhythm of him sitting in his computer chair, and me on the couch, while he chatted between bites of his sub.
"We've only been back from tour for like, two weeks?" He set his sandwich down, wiping his face with a napkin. "We haven't made plans for any more shows yet. We need to take some time to prepare the re-release of the album."
I was chewing my food, being wildly careful not to drop anything on the couch. "Have you decided when it will be released?"
He shook his head. "It's more up to the label, but it's not ready yet anyway."
"The last album was good."
His eyes became almost glittery, hearing what I said. "You've heard it?"
"I listened to it once or twice." I smirked, trying to hide my face with my sandwich.
"Just the last album?" He had me. He knew I was bluffing.
"Well, I pulled you up on iTunes when I realized you were a musician."
His tongue darted out of his mouth, licking his bottom lip. "Which is your favorite song?"
Without thinking, I spoke. "Dethrone."
The shit-eating grin that crawled over his face had me giggling nervously.
"I like working out to it."
He stood, crumpling the paper from his sandwich and tossed it in the garbage. He flopped down next to me on the couch, only inches between us. I set the half of my sandwich on the paper laid out on the table.
"Well, I'm glad you like our music." He was balancing his head on his palm, triumphant smile on his face.
"Are we just going to talk about you the whole night?"
"Oh, you want to talk about you? We can do that."
I leaned back. "Like?"
"Favorite movie."
"The Crow."
He quirked a brow, but didn't question further.
"Favorite TV show?"
"Buffy The Vampire Slayer."
He laughed at that. "Seriously?"
I narrowed my eyes. "Don't hate on Buffy."
He threw his hands up in defense. "Hey, it's a classic." He tapped a finger on his chin. "Favorite place?"
"Place, as in...location?"
"Or whatever it means to you."
I had to think about this one. "My room."
"Really?"
I just nodded. "It's mine. I have it set up exactly how I like it. My roommate is mostly who decorated the rest of the apartment. It's nice, but my room? My room is all me."
Tightening his lips, he gave a look of approval.
"Fair enough." He took a moment to think. "Favorite food?"
"Ah," I stretched my arms out. "Probably Japanese."
He smiled. "Yeah? Same."
He took a while to think over his next question, really working on it.
"Favorite anime?"
Uh-oh, he caught me.
"Oof." I averted his gaze. "I actually don't really watch anime."
I expected a more energetic response, but instead he just said, "No? Why not?"
I shrugged. "Could never get into it? I watched one all the way through, but I couldn't find another that interested me."
"Which one?"
"Tokyo Ghoul."
His eyes lit up. "That's my favorite." He reached over, grabbing a PlayStation controller off of the table and switching it on. When the device surged to life, the background showed an illustration of Ken Kaneki in his ghoul mask, red eye bleeding.
I smiled. "It's the only one that held my interest."
"You've never tried Attack on Titan?"
Shaking my head, I looked back at him. "Never heard of it."
"Want to give it a try? It's dark. You might like it."
"Sure."
He took a few moments to get the show prepared, and I took the opportunity to finish my sandwich, tossing the paper out.
"You want a blanket?" He turned the room light off, turning the LED's up to a warm white light, giving the environment a comfortable feel.
"I'm okay, for now."
He sat down, keeping at least half a foot of distance between us, and began playing the show.
I wanted to pay attention, I really did, but his hand was resting on the couch, fingers splayed out right next to my leg, and it was all I could think about. His eyes were trained on the TV, which made it harder not to stare at him. His features were so striking; eyes a deep brown, hair pushed back and hanging lazily, tattoos littering nearly every inch of his skin. I felt myself salivate while wondering where all he was tattooed, and if I would have the chance to see them.
In an attempt to distract myself, I began removing my braids, taking a second to shake my hair out before I ran a hand through it, trying to get comfortable. I tucked legs underneath myself, my shorts making me feel more exposed than I would've liked.
That's when I felt his eyes on me, covering every inch of me. His fingers were so subtly slipping closer to my thigh on the couch. I tried breathing, but keeping a steady pace was impossible when he was staring.
How far could we take this? How much did I want to allow?
I shifted casually, clearing my throat, and letting the skin of my leg brush his hand. I watched as his eyes shot down to the connection, not moving an inch. His fingers were cool against my warm skin. I leaned back on the couch, pressing my leg closer to him.
His hand slipped, then, up the side of my leg, coming to rest on the top of my thigh. I felt my lip twitch, so I leaned into his hand, pressing my skin into his palm.
When I finally dared to look over, he was staring directly at me, face unwavering, looking absolutely ravenous.
The tension struck me, ripping a cord inside my chest. I wasn't going to sit like this forever.
I leaned forward, taking hold of his shoulder, and pulled my face impossibly close to his. His eyes roamed over me, contemplating his next move. The hand he had on my leg was now wrapped around my back, holding me in place as I stared at him, waiting.
I counted six calculated breaths before he finally leaned in, pressing his lips to mine, and I took my time inhaling his scent. He smelled like the woods; earthy and pine mixed with salt.
The hand he had holding my back pulled, pressing me closer to him. I opened my mouth to allow his tongue to slide across my teeth, licking into my lips. A low moan escaped me, and it was like a switch had flipped.
His mouth was hungrily attacking mine, using the same energy he typically exhausted back in the gym. His arms flipped me back, landing me on the cushions, and pressed himself against me.
I hooked my left leg on his hip, using steady pressure to keep his waist pushed flush to my body, my hips grinding against him.
Humming into my mouth, he pulled his face back, studying me for a moment. I laid, mouth open and breathing heavily, staring up at him.
"You're so fucking sexy, you know that?"
Rolling my eyes, I leaned my hips up, pressing against the hard bulge in his shorts. "You seem to think so."
He hissed, applying the same pressure back against me. "I have for a while now."
"Yeah?" I let one hand snake down between us, pressing against his cock over the fabric. "Now that you have me here, what do you plan to do?"
A soft, whispering whimper left his lips. "I've got some ideas."
He crashed his lips back down, nipping and biting at my lips, and began making his way down my jaw. His teeth grazed my pulse point, licking a stripe up my windpipe.
"Well," I breathed out. "you going to act on those ideas? Or just lick me all day?"
His head snapped up, and the darkest, most mischievous grin graced his features, which made a chill run up my spine.
"So fucking glad you asked."
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Text
Imagine going to the
Gym or Training Rooms with Miguel
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
And like not even in a cutesy couple way - just imagine having Miguel as a personal trainer
Or having him as your Society mentor
He's probably so nice and encouraging I'll fight you on this
He shows up everytime with two tumblers of pre-work out smoothies he made himself
Sometimes they're good and sometimes they're GNARLY but he tries to get you to drink it all everytime, so you don't get too exhausted
He is MILITANT about water intake I'm not kidding
Will stand next to you hands on hips, watching as you drink half a bottle of water because you said you didn't drink any and he will NOT STAND FOR IT
As you two drink and prep for the gym he always asks your goals, what you want to do or get better at
Even if it's just self-love - Miguel COMPLETELY accepts that. Cause you're still showing up for yourself
And he always makes sure to ask your limits, what you feel like you can and can't take or what you don't like
HE'S SO ENCOURAGING
Always telling you when you're doing better or improved - he remembers your records or stats and every time you do better, he notices
And always gives a thumbs up
And he's always looking out for you
Miguel's the type to watch you and let you do your thing
Keeping his eye out for you and letting you get in your zone
In training he's always ready to tell you 'That was better' or 'You're getting faster/stronger'
Because he wants you to leave feeling confident and proud of yourself
He's ALL ABOUT Body Kindness
Sometimes he may be like 'Stop - you're going to hurt yourself. 🤨😠'
But he always helps you adjust after, coming up behind you to show you how to do it properly
Even then though he never judges you for your skill or your ability or body
But he will judge the way you talk to yourself
Miguel WOULD NOT let you talk bad about your body or yourself - cause he knows it only takes you away from your goals
If you start to get upset or insult your body, he'll get you to pause what your doing and take a break
He'll stop two and sit with you, try to explain that it's not your body's fault
Sometimes he'll even ask you to apologize to your body
Because you and your body are doing it's best
After training he'll ask 'Do you think you did good?'
Because he wants you to verbally compliment yourself after all your hard work
He knows he's,... HUGE
But he tries not to be intimidating (unless need be), and he doesn't want people to compare themselves to him
He always tells you it's okay that he can lift more, that doesn't mean he's physically perfect.
He's trying to work on things too (like getting his flexibility up)
He's a GREAT spotter when it comes to weights
His voice is so even and calming, and it never sounds like he's pushing you too far or barking orders
He reminds you to breathe while excerising, and if he ask permission, sometimes he'll put his hand on the small of your back to remind you of your posture
He's also GREAT at warding off creeps. If you're off doing your own thing and come weirdo comes over to you
Suddenly they're standing in the eclipse of Miguel's shadow because he's RIGHT BEHIND THEM
He's like 'THEY'RE BUSY.' and that's enough for them to take off lol
And if you're into physical fitness that he doesn't do often, he'll do ANYTHING to back you
Gymnastics, Swimming, Pole, Martial Arts - you name it. He'll be there, reminding you to keep your focus, drink water, and trust yourself
You may even be able to pull him into different sports yourself - like rock climbing or Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (which he LOVES)
Sparring with Miguel is SO SO SO FUN
He's never trying to hurt you - that's not the point
He wants you to get better, and for you to learn about your fighting style
He'll run you through different fights, pause and then look at you
And ask something like 'What move would you do next?' or 'You have me here - how do you take me down?'
So you can think more about your movements and skills
And he always makes sure to ask 'How do you feel?' after - no matter what you're doing
He just wants to help you feel good and reach your goals
Miguel really finds the gym relaxing as hell he probably LOVES the gym
So he'd want to make it the most welcoming/accessible place
If you're new, he's always down to answer questions - or if you're really unsure, he'll even help you come up with a regimine
Or get you started on a machine that's not too daunting
If you're differently abled, then definitely come up him. He'll help you figure something out, no matter what it is
Even asking Lyla what's the best way to go about it that helps you reach your goals and listen to your body
Not having all the powers of usual Spider-people, Miguel really had to learn his body and what areas he needed to grow in/adapt
So he really likes helping other people do that too
He's met so many Spider-people, he knows all bodies, regardless of ability or build, have things they're good at
And everybody deserves to feel comfortable and understanding in their body regardless of what they've been through
He ends every workout with you by giving you a Gatorade from his bag and a pat on the back
But if he offers you the ice bath DON'T TAKE IT IT'S A TRAP
He means well but IT'S A TRAP
Miguel is OBSESSED with Ice Baths the man's an unfeeling maniac sitting in a bathtub full of crushed ice and reading a book like it's normal
I want to go to the gym with Miguel BADLY I'm SO WHIPPED for this man
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tragedykery · 1 year
Text
why don’t you dance badly in front of your bedroom mirror wearing flowy black clothing to feel like something between a dancer and a ninja and realise at heart you’re still the same kid who used to do the exact same thing and that little kid isn’t gone you’ve just changed (maybe not always for the better but that’s just the way life is) and. well maybe you won’t calm down but perhaps you’ll feel something inside you click and you’ll feel simultaneously more at peace & filled with a strange sort of melancholy homesickness for the past (which you can never return to no matter how hard you try)
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greycaelum · 10 months
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Hi! Since Sai was an early baby, what if it made her smaller than her pears as a kid? And the other kids make fun of her for that, Sai told what happened to Satoru, he must be so mad!
Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters { Fiesty }
—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader
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𑁍 Synopsis: No daughter of Satoru gets kicked around, not under his and Kouki's watch
𑁍 Genre: family theme, fluff, very mild angst if you squint, comfort
𑁍 CW/TW: (1.7k)— Satoru using his influence, mentions of bullying (please beware), Satoru teaching his daughter to defend herself, sassy Saika, not proofread
𑁍 Grey ✒️☕: Happy Birthday to my sweet Cat~ my munchkin isn't a toddler no more, she's ready to be a big sistahh~✨
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At six years old Saika is somehow smaller and thinner than her peers. You and Satoru noticed this and never really minded it since kids don’t necessarily have to be as chubby as the stereotype. There are also kids who are simply slim. And Saika is perfectly healthy on her check-ups and she’s a very active kid. She trains like her brother and even started joining on Kouki’s Brazilian jiu-jitsu classes with Satoru’s active support. It’s simply your baby girl’s body built to be petite.
Perhaps you cannot blame your son being so overprotective with his sister, she is indeed the apple of Kouki’s eyes. So protective and indulgent with her whims. And you don’t want to get started with Satoru. He’s too much! He really needs to learn how to say “no” whenever she asks for something.
“When I first held her in my arms, I knew I would give her anything she wants.” Satoru told you some time ago while you’re talking about the kids. He opened his arms as you climb in the bed and lay on his chest. He kisses your head and drew circles on your shoulder. “She was so tiny, so precious that I could cry just feeling her heartbeat against my skin.” He chuckles with a sigh. It was just few years ago but he cannot help being nostalgic about it.
You know how much he wants a girl. Way back with Kouki, you listen to him betting on it being a girl, and now with Saika you knew he could really be a mushy dad that would spoil his baby girl rotten it’s almost unhealthy.
“You were really scared back then for her, weren’t you?” You nod, remembering how hard it was with Saika. The anxiety of Satoru’s sealing, the constant threat with you and Kouki, and finally the last trigger with the Tachibana clan. Your baby girl was so strong to endure it and come out healthy.
“I thought I wouldn’t fall in love with another girl other than you.” Satoru kissed your temples and cuddled close to your chest. “But when I saw her crying and healthy, I just knew I’d never let her go again.”
You watch your husband turn to a puddle when it comes to his Little Cat. It seems Saika will never grow out of her “princess treatment” from her Papa.
Safe to assume it will never be easy to get away if ever someone tries anything funny with the baby girl of the house. But everything isn’t perfect.
She looks different. Saika knows that. Oftentimes her difference makes her welcomed and sometimes she is shunned. What’s certain is that it makes her standout. Like the time you were called in to dye her hair into black because it’s mandatory for students to have a black hair, the school administration thought Saika has a dyed hair until you presented a medical certificate for it.
And now… her body built…
“You’re so tiny, I could flatten you if I want to!” The bigger boy laughed at Saika who was visibly smaller compared to him.
“Clearly you’re not raised enough to learn the word ‘manner’.” Saika raised her brow and look at the boy up and down. “Unsophisticated urchin.” She smiled sweetly in her siren eyes.
“You! Ugly! Ugly! Ugly!” The boy grew red in anger and spat the disrespectful words.
But it wasn’t long until the bully’s feet left the ground, his collars clutched around his neck as a taller boy easily lifted him off the ground.
“What did you say to my, Sister?” Kouki’s eyes were bloodshot livid. “Which part of you looks handsome enough that you can call my sister ugly? Huh?” Kouki growled with his aura scaring anyone nearby and the boy on his hands struggling close to peeing himself from being swept off the ground in one hand.
Satoru was the first one to hear about this from the bodyguards he stationed to monitor his kids from the shadows. Kouki has a fair share of his squabbles in school so he knows how to handle it. But this is the first time his Cat joined a public school and she’s already bullied.
“Hi Cat! Look Papa got some coupons on that doughnut café you love!” He waved at his Little Princess who just got home from playing with the neighbor’s dog.
“Papa! I’m home!” Saika excitedly clung to his legs with a bright smile.
“Yes, yes, My Little Cat is home, wanna go on a date with Papa?”
She nodded and ran upstairs to change and ran back down in her pretty pastel blue dress and silver doll shoes, ready to go.
“Up, up you go.” Satoru scoop her into his arms, easily scooping the six-year-old into his arms and went out. Saika wraps her arms around her Papa’s neck and talked animatedly in their walk and Satoru replied back with the same enthusiasm. She is his princess, and making her happy is natural for him to do.
“So… are you having fun in school? Anyone giving you a hard time? Oh! Perhaps you have a crush?” Satoru slowly thread in the question, not making his intention obvious.
Saika pursed her lips and huffed.
“Someone called me ugly.”
“Oh… did they now?” Satoru’s face darkened for a bit but tried to hold it together.
“I called him, “unsophisticated urchin” and he turned red.” Saika made a cold face and laughed.
“Didn’t you feel hurt? My poor Cat, if I were you, you should’ve kick him where the sun doesn’t shine.” Satoru couldn’t hold back being pissed enough. “You should’ve do that technique I taught you!”
But Saika shook her head.
“Mama said I don’t have to always fight back physically. Mama said, I should do it with elegance and stay pretty because that’s the best payback to haters.” Saika made a finger heart and giggled. “Him calling me ugly, doesn’t make me less pretty, right Papa?”
Instantly, Satoru’s irritation melted and chuckled, kissing his daughter’s forehead.
“Of course, my Cat is so pretty she’s the apple of my eyes.” She really takes after you… Satoru smiled at the memories of your sass and brattiness. “But Cat, if someone is really giving you a hard time, it’s not bad to ask for help or make them taste their medicine. Got it?”
Saika thought for a second and hummed to herself.
“What if I hurt them badly? That’s not good Papa.”
“Well sweetheart, I’m not saying we hurt them badly…” Satoru thought for a second of an analogy easier for a six years old to understand. “Remember when we trained and I landed a punch so close to Kiku-nii’s face that it blew his hair back?”
Saika nodded. “But your punch didn’t landed Papa…”
“Mnnn, but what did Kiku-nii say after that?”
Saika thought again… “That he thought he would fly across the room from the punch.” Saika laughed remembering her brother’s surprised look and the well-controlled punch. “So I just have to scare them?”
Satoru smirked, his Cat finally getting his point.
“Scaring is another word. It’s more like a ‘warning’. You have to show them they cannot just beat you around, and you’re strong enough to defend yourself. Got it?”
“Got it Papa!”
“Good girl, no daughter of mine gets kicked around. My Princess can defend herself, right?”
“Right!”
The next week, you look at the letter you just received from the school and looked at your husband who was grinning ear-to-ear.
“Atta girl! That’s my baby girl.”
Kouki looked at you and shrugged, totally siding with his Papa. Saika laughed nervously.
“I didn’t kick him Mama, I made sure my roundhouse kick pass cleanly his nose without touching him.
“Very good! You were listening well in our training Cat! I should give you a badge. My baby girl is so well-trained. By who? By me!” Satoru laughed, slapping the table with great joy.
“Sai… What did I say about elegance and sophistication?”
“I tried but he didn’t listened. I don’t wanna be pushed around.” Saika shrugged. “I won’t do it if they didn’t hurt me first.”
“Yes, I know sweetheart, I don’t want you to be bullied too. But the next time, you should go to the teacher first, okay?” Y/n opened her arms for Saika. “I’m not condoning violent actions, but that was brave of you to defend yourself from bullies. But again, no violent actions is considered a good action, do you understand me dear?”
“Yes, Mama. I won’t hurt anyone for no valid reason.” Saika nodded, and hug her Mama back.
The next day you arrived in the disciplinary office, ready to defend your daughter but the officer told you there was no need, the principal explained to you the matter was cleared up. The boy who bullied Saika was also suspended and their family would like to apologize for their son’s ill-mannered behavior.
Satoru on the other hand, fiddled with the camera in his hold. Posting guards around his kids is a good investment he made. It made the ‘cleaning up’ easier with the evidences in his hand. Satoru ruffled his first-born’s hair. You don’t have to know what methods they used in this situation and how they handled the ‘left-overs’. No one is allowed to bully their Little Cat or make the First Lady of the house stressed.
“Mama won’t be suspicious why those parents got off their high horses, right Papa?” Kouki smoothed his long arctic mane and tied it back to a neat ponytail.
“Hmmm, who knows? Oh well, wanna go grab some milkshake Kikufuku? There’s a good café nearby…” Satoru listed the new desserts he found, seeing his son lit up at the sound of sweets remembering to take-out some for you and his sister.
He just knew the two of them will keep their Little Cat and you happy and protected.
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—GreyCaelum
PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME
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All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)
General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld
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indieyuugure · 6 months
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about the Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu,were you talking about capoeira?
No, I meant Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.
This is capoeira:
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It’s more like dancing than fighting, that’s why it’s extremely common in movies. It’s flashy and fun to watch, but most of the time you don’t actually touch your opponent.
This is BJJ:
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It’s ground wrestling and actual full contact fighting. You’re not supposed to punch and kick and stuff, but in MMA(mixed martial arts) you’re allowed to. It’s not flashy, and 90% of the time it looks like a cartoon dust cloud to the untrained eye.
Here’s some videos you can watch to see the differences:
youtube
youtube
Good question! :]
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sunbrightheart · 9 days
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ACOTAR MEN AND THE SPORTS I THINK THEY WOULD PLAY:
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note: this is all up for interpretation, so feel free to list your suggestions in the comments !!
rhysand: definitely a big shot baseball player. can imagine him in the traditional pinstriped yankees uniform. real smug bastard on the field, mind-fuck strategist.
cassian: is a beast at heavy weight sports, but this man cannot run to save his life. prefers more stationary sports like boxing and wrestling. competes in weightlifting events for fun.
azriel: only participates in team sports if cassian and rhysand are playing, but i think he would thrive in individual or one-on-one sports. martial arts like bjj (brazilian jiu-jitsu) and judo are his best.
tamlin: this man screams front row prop. say your thoughts and prayers because he will quite literally go beast mode and bulldoze you over. always getting carded and warnings because he can’t reign in his temper.
lucien: now call me biased but lucien is a jack of all trades. he dabbles in all sorts of sports, mostly of which are unconventional, and is really good at them once he puts his mind to it. that being said i would say he plays a mix of track and field, lacrosse and volleyball. occasionally does archery and swimming.
tarquin: any and all water sports and baby tarquin is undefeated. loves waterpolo and competitive swimming.
varian: wind-surfing, for sure. i would also say rowing; amren especially loves his arms.
helion: is definitely a former rugby jock. a literal powerhouse on and off the field. those thunder thighs be THIGHING. also dabbles in shot put because i feel like he would unironically be really good at it.
thesan: he gives me major badminton vibes. i dont know why, but just racket sports in general??????
kallias: any and all winter sports and kallias is there. a pro at ice hockey and speed skating. likes to do duo figure skating with viviane.
beron: is literally one of those middle age, upper middle class white men who spend all their free time at the country club, sipping on top shelf whiskey and abusing the clubs workers. probably plays golf and tennis, croquet too but hes too prideful and thinks its for old people.
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