you look like a caveman

The Grumpy Side of Happy

A/N: Drabble request with Happy for anonymous. 1. The skirt is supposed to be this short. 10. If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god! You’re on the couch for a month!! 14. Take. It. Off.  Hope you enjoy it, anony!

You had come out of the change room to find a very bored Happy leaning against the wall. He looked you up and down, sighing deeply.
“Get back in there and take that off.”
“What?”
Happy’s face went from bored to annoyed.
“Take. It. Off.” His voice was a low growl. 
“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to say later tonight at the clubhouse?”
You had dragged Happy to the mall to pick out something for the party at the Sons clubhouse that night. Generally he didn’t give a damn what you wore, but in this case, the skirt you had tried on - you’d admit, resembled more of a belt - had not passed the the Happy clothing approval rating.
‘The skirt is supposed to be this short.” You rolled your eyes at his expression.
“You’re my Old Lady, not a croweater.”
It was your turn to be annoyed.
“Hap, I wasn’t actually going to get this. I know you’re not exactly the comedic type, but I was kidding.”
In actual fact, you were kind of hoping he would have a positive reaction to it, and you could use it at a later time when you were alone with him.
Sometimes Happy was soft, a quiet doter on you, but he had been a straight up pain in the ass since he’d woken up and you were done with it. You knew this wasn’t his ideal way to spend his time, but you liked having his opinion on what you wore, and it was nice to be out with him rather than at the clubhouse or your home for once.
You went back in to the change room, got back in to your clothes and grabbed the bundle you had brought in to try on. Handing the bulk of the clothes to an attendant, you went to make the purchase of the red dress you had tried on and Hap had nodded at.
Happy walked up behind you as the cashier scanned the dress through, spying the skirt on the counter. He made to grab it, but you were quicker.
“You’re not buying that.”
As you turned to Happy, the cashier watched, mid-scan, waiting to see what was about to go down.
“I think I might be.”
“Don’t scan that.” Happy said, talking to the cashier but not moving his gaze from yours.
You puffed yourself up, Happy towering over you, but you wouldn’t cower. You never did.
“I dunno how you think you’re gonna win this one. I’m paying, therefore I’m the customer, and the customer is always right. So, go right ahead and scan that skirt, sweetheart.” You turned your words to the cashier, blindly handing the garment to her. 
The cashier shrugged, scanning the skirt and ringing up the total.
Happy made for your card this time, but you jumped back, moving the card closer and closer to the machine, tapping it and putting it away, enjoying the agitated look on his face.
Whenever Happy got too caveman for you, you liked to push his buttons. You weren’t scared of Happy, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you, especially over something so trivial. But you weren’t about to let him walk all over you. For things about the club, you knew your place. But in your relationship, outside of the club, you weren’t just Hap’s Old Lady. You were his to love, not to be a possession.
As you took your bag, Happy stormed passed you, leaving the store. You smirked at the cashier and followed him, only to see him riding out of the parking space as you approached.
It was so ridiculous, you laughed. Not much phased you. You got a taxi and headed for home. Maybe you would wear the skirt instead of the dress to the party, just for kicks.

Arriving home, you saw no evidence of Happy being there. You assumed he had gone to the clubhouse to cool off and you could meet him there.
You lay out your dress and the accessories you’d be wearing and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich. You had a while to get ready, so you took your time.
As you were eating, the familiar rumble of Happy’s bike came down the road, and he parked in the driveway. He called out to you when he walked in to the house, finding you at the dining table.
“How did you get home?”
“I flew on my broomstick.” You replied, chewing on your sandwich. Looking up to him, you saw the look of worry on his face.
“I got a cab.”
Happy sat down at the table.
“I got halfway home before I turned around to come get you, but you weren’t there. I freaked out.”
You felt a bit bad. He rode off on you, and it was a dick move, but you could tell he knew that he was in the wrong, and he was sorry, even without having said it.
“It’s alright, I’m not mad. I figured that whatever mood you were in, you needed to go and sort it out without me taunting you. Sorry I provoked you.”
Putting your plate in the sink, you walked over and moved your hand over his shaved head, down the back of his neck and under his shirt, running this tips of your nails over the top of his back. You felt him shiver at your touch, and he closed his eyes, groaning.
“I’m sorry too. Just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
“We’re good. Now, I’m going to take a long hot shower, then while you take yours, I’ll get ready and we’ll go have fun at the party.” You took your hand away and walked towards the bedroom, stopping at the kitchen door.
“And if you’re a happy camper tonight, we’ll have some fun with that skirt when we’re back home.”
Happy huffed a laugh out, shaking his head at you.
“If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god! You’re on the couch for a month!!” He jokingly warned you.
Your smug smirk made it’s way across your face.
“Sure, Killer.” You winked and disappeared down the hall.

A Thousand Years

This is one of the four entries I’m writing for @buckysmetallicstump’s Disney Challenge! My prompt for this entry was #14: “Listen to me. The human world…it’s a mess.” - Sebastian, The Little Mermaid. Quote will be in bold.

Song Inspiration: “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri ft. Steve Kazee (Breaking Dawn Soundtrack Version). Here is a Link if you are interested: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpxJGTN3VUw&index=13&list=PLwUW5QOPdB6E3Jlsd4YDDJK8sIFm-kB0i

Summary: The Winchester’s meet an old friend of Castiel’s.

Word Count: 3900-ish

Pairing: Sam x angel!Reader

Warnings: Language, a smidge of violence, MINOR canon divergences, and first time writing Sam x Reader (cuz that should probably be a warning) 

A/N: Part of me feels like I should have done this in five separate drabble posts buuuutttt I didn’t… for reasons unknown even to myself lol. It’s set in Season 9 and is written in five little snapshots of their life. There will be parts that follow the script of actual episodes with a few minor divergences here and there. (Exact episodes: 9x09 9x11 9x13 9x21 and 9x22). Let me know what you think! 

You walked towards the wooden establishment, displeased with the sight of various human officials mulling about. This was angel business. They had no idea what they were dealing with and would only get in the way.

Walking past a shiny black vehicle, you stopped in front of a row of motorcycles. Ever since you had lost your wings in the fall you had been cursed to walk the earth. Never before had you envied the human forms of transportation, but you had to admit, taking one of these would make moving around much faster. And if the angels who had ridden them before were indeed dead, taking one for yourself shouldn’t be a problem. You would just have to figure out how they worked first.

“Cass, slow down!”

You turned towards the voices, watching as a man exited the building, quickly followed by another who was dressed almost identically.

“Castiel?”

Both men stopped abruptly, their eyes locking on to you in an instant. The second man was staring at you cautiously, his hand resting above the weapon he had at his hip. The first, however, eyed you curiously, stepping towards you and putting a hand up when the other man tried to follow.

“Y/N?”

You nodded, walking towards him. “I was hoping I would find you one of these days.”

The green-eyed man was at Castiel’s side in an instant. The weapon now in his hand. “Not so fast, sweetheart.”

You stopped, eyeing him curiously. Everyone knew Castiel had spent the past few years running around with the infamous Winchesters, so if you had to take a guess you figured this man must be one of them.

“It’s alright Dean. She’s an old friend.” Castiel assured him, still looking at you. 

“No offence Cass, but I don’t think any angel is your friend anymore.” Typical human, so quick to pass judgement. 

You stared at the Winchester, unfazed by his words. “My loyalty to Castiel has been unwavering since the day we were created, boy. Can you say the same for yourself?” 

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What Do YOU Want? Pt. 6

A Kwon Jiyong series ft. Kim Jiwon

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Word count: 3,500+

Summary: The most important person in the world to you can appear most often when you least expect it. But through everything, you can’t forget about you and your own happiness. Who are you happy with? Who is the best for you?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 … Part 7 

(A/N: Yowza, the next part won’t be this long, I promise!! I just really loved writing this one, though this part probably contains the least amount of Jiyong thus far. As always, I hope you all enjoy it!!!)

Originally posted by magikasa

“For the fifth time, yes, we’ll make sure you get a wig with short black hair.”

You were nearing the end of what turned out to be a surprisingly difficult rehearsal with iKon and were responding to all questions in between your panting. All along it had been extremely entertaining and your difficulty breathing mainly came from how often you’d burst out laughing at the way the 7 men attempted to be feminine. You should have accounted for the amount of effort it would take to get these boys to dance the way girl groups do.

“Short black hair will just work the best with my face. It’s my concept.” Junhoe was insistent, as per usual, that his good looks be maintained throughout the performance and the rest of you had a good laugh whenever it was brought back up.

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Request: Ricochet

Request: ‘Imagine Dean whispering ‘I love you’ in your ear when he thinks you’re already asleep’. The idea was submitted as an image from @multifandom_imagines on Instagram, so all credit to them!!

Word Count: 1,127

Thank you!! Maybe this one could possibly work with a second part so if you feel like that would be nice, just let me know!! Have an awesome day<33

“Sweetheart, hey, look at me,” Dean grabs hold of your chin, leaving a bloody handprint on your skin as he angles your head up to look at him. He’s blurry, his face wavering in an out of focus, “You’re gonna be just fine, you hear me? It’s just a scratch. Just a scratch.” His own voice betrays him, catching in his throat and revealing the bubbling pool of fear behind the calm, determined mask he’s struggling so hard to keep in place.

“Dean!” Sam yells, somewhere in the background. His voice is vague and echoes in the room… or maybe you’re outside. You don’t know. You can’t see past Dean’s eyes, so close to yours.

“We’re coming! Y/N, keep your eyes open for me. This might sting a little, okay?” He slips one arm around your back and the other beneath your knees, lifting you from the hard ground. He feels a wave of warm blood spill onto him and your cry of pain sends shivers down his spine, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. We’re getting you out of here, just stay with me.”

Dean runs over to the car and slides into the back, effortlessly pulling the door closed with his foot, “Drive, Sam. She’s already lost too much blood, I don’t- I don’t know-“

The Impala screeches away from the pavement and onto the road – it’s late enough that the roads are deserted and the road is quiet, so Sam flies through the streets. He’d called the hospital ahead, and knowing that they’ll have a team ready for you, right now, is their only comfort.

“Y/N? Look at me,” Dean begs, clutching you close to him and pressing harder on your side, a small whimper escaping your lips at the pain, “I know, sweetheart, I know. You just gotta hold on, okay?”

You nod minutely, but with every moment the darkness is advancing on you further and keeping your eyes open is becoming more and more difficult with each passing heartbeat. In fact, if you just close them for a few seconds, maybe… maybe it would be easier.

“Y/N? Y/N, no! No! Stay with- shit, Sam, drive!”

***

The sterile smell invades your nose and even before your eyes are open, you know exactly where you are. You just take a moment, drinking in your surrounding – hunter’s instincts have gifted you with the ability to figure out a lot about a room without much to go on. The room is quiet, apart from the soft beeping of an ECG reader and the gentle whir of the oxygen tank, the tubes of which are draped over your face and fixed into your nose. The air being blown into your lungs tickles your nose a little. You’re lying in a bed, your top half slightly raised and a woollen blanked tucked up to your hips. The hospital gown is cotton and, thankfully, not one of those awful open-backed ones.

There’s a window open, judging by the gentle breeze, and… and there’s someone in the room with you. Not a doctor or a nurse, they’d be moving around. It takes a moment before you recognise the pine and leather scent you’ve only ever been able to describe as Dean. Even more surprisingly, he has your right hand – the one not hooked up to an IV – enclosed in both of his as if it’s a wounded animal he must protect.

You prise open one eye, unprepared for the barrage of white light you’re flooded with. An involuntary groan sounds from somewhere in your throat and you close your eye again, but it’s too late – you’ve caught Dean’s attention.

“Y/N?” He asks, and you feel as he leans down close to you. Every couple of seconds, his warm breath ghosts over your face, “Are you… are you awake?”

“No.” You whisper, unable to do anything but. How long have you been out? A day? Three? More?

He laughs softly, “Shit, Y/N. You scared me there.” He says, squeezing your hand gingerly, “You’ve been out for a week, they didn’t know when you’d wake up.”

“A week?” You force your eye back open and this time, it isn’t so bad, but when you pull the other open too it takes a few blinks for the pulsing pain in your head to wear off.

He nods, “You lost a hell of a lot of blood. They said you shouldn’t even be alive, but you’re too stubborn for that.”

“Damn right.” You smile slightly, earning a laugh.

“Yeah. Sam went to get lunch, it’s about midday. You hungry? He can sneak you a burger in.”

You think about it for a moment, and then shake your head, “I’m good. Thanks. You should go eat, though. And shave. You’re starting to look like a caveman.”

He grins, “There’s my Y/N. I’ll go, but only if you promise to be awake when I get back. Oh, and don’t move, you ended up with 30-something stitches in your side and you don’t want to split them.”

You groan softly, but nod, “I’ll be awake. Maybe there’ll be a hot doctor I can bother.”

Dean chuckles, “See you soon, Y/N.”

***

He isn’t at all surprised when he and Sam return an hour later to find you sleeping peacefully. The greyish pallor is gone from your face, though, and there’s a small plate on the nightstand with the remains of a sandwich.

“You tell her?” Sam asks softly, and Dean shakes his head. He crosses over to you, watching your chest rise and fall with each breath you take, “Why not? Dean, you can’t-“

“Sammy, just let it go.” Dean replies, his voice tired, “She’s okay. She’ll be fine. She just needs to recover and then… then… I don’t know. If this has proved anything, it’s that she shouldn’t be around us. Me.”

“What are you talking about? She’d have gone in there anyway. You saved her.”

They go back and forth for a little while – little do they know, you’re very much awake and trying desperately to keep your breaths deep and even, so your heart doesn’t betray you and display racing beats on the little screen to your left.

Eventually, Dean sighs, “It’s not like I can do anything now, anyway. It’ll be a few days before they let her out, and even then she’ll be in no fit state for big discussions.” You hear his footsteps as he crosses over to you, and then once again his warm breath on your face.

“See you later, Y/N,” He whispers, “I love you.”

He presses a light kiss to your forehead and then… then he’s gone.  His footsteps, quickly followed by Sam’s, disappear from the room to leave you alone with Dean’s words ricocheting around your mind.

multifand0mtrash  asked:

I lost my little sibling in IKEA and I need your help finding them ---- Laura tells Stiles she lost her little brother.... HOW THE FUCK DO YOU LOSE A 22 YEAR OLD WEREWOLF WHO LOOKS LIKE A GQ COVER SERIAL KILLERS.... oh yeah, you dont, you are just trying to set him up with a cute guy who's totally his type

Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Rating: G, Word Count: 891
Fluff, No Hale Fire, POV Stiles

Read on AO3

‘Hey, Stiles.’

Stiles turns around so fast he feels a little dizzy. When the world stops moving Laura Hale’s grinning face comes into focus.

‘Hey, Laura,’ he says cautiously. It’s not that he doesn’t like her, but when she’s smiling like that it usually means she’s up to something.

‘What a coincidence, me running into you here.’

Stiles squints at her. It doesn’t sound like Laura thinks it’s coincidence. It sounds like this is the opposite of a coincidence, the furthest away from a coincidence this can get, in fact. He glances around for Scott, not wanting to get dragged into one of Laura’s schemes by himself, but his friend is nowhere to be found. He was just here, looking picture frames with him.

‘And lucky, too.’

And he’s in. He can’t help himself. He has to know. ‘Why lucky?’

‘Because now you can help me find Derek,’ Laura says, schooling her expression into something that could easily be mistaken for innocent by people who don’t know her.

‘Can’t you just…’ Stiles gestures at his nose.

‘Too many people around.’

And now Laura is looking lost and sad with her big green eyes. Damnit.

‘Okay, fine,’ Stiles sighs, mostly because he can’t for the life of him figure out what Laura could possibly gain from him helping her find Derek in an IKEA. ‘How did you lose him anyway? He’s huge, like a hunky caveman. Don’t you dare tell him is said that,’ Stiles adds when he sees the glimmer in Laura’s eyes.

‘What happens in IKEA,’ Laura says, miming zipping her lips shut. ‘I don’t know. We were looking at lamps, and then he was gone.’

‘Right, because losing a twenty-two year-old, built like a god, with a face Michelangelo wouldn’t be able to make improvements on, and the presence of a comfy warm blanket, is totally possible. Especially with your superpowers,’ Stiles says as they start walking. He can find Scott later.

‘You’re not a very trusting person, are you?’

‘Not when it comes to you, no. You once tricked me into giving you my ice cream.’

‘That was like ten years ago,’ Laura waves away.

‘And you made me and Cora clean your car, because we thought we were the ones who’d muddied it. And this was two weeks ago.’

‘Did I ever thank you for that, by the way?’

‘No. You did not.’

Laura hums, but doesn’t say anything else. Just rounds the corner into the living room department.

‘Okay, so where do we need to start looking for your GQ model of a bro– Ha. Hi, Derek,’ Stiles squeaks. His face immediately feels like it’s on fire. He stumbles back into Laura, who shoves him forward so he almost falls into Derek.

‘Hey, Stiles,’ Derek says.

Stiles doesn’t move. He barely dares to breathe, because there’s no more than a foot between them and he can smell Derek. It’s a nice smell. He looks up at Derek, and immediately realizes he shouldn’t have done that either, because the look on Derek’s face clearly shows he heard the GQ model comment. There’s something very complicated going on with those eyebrows, part confusion and part something that Stiles isn’t sure how to identify.

‘You like how I look?’ Derek asks.

‘There was also a comment earlier about your presence being like a warm, comfy blanket,’ Laura supplies.

Stiles turns and glares at her.

‘You said you wouldn’t tell him!’

‘No, I said I wouldn’t tell him you thought he looked like a hunky caveman.’ Laura’s grin can only be described as diabolical. ‘Oops. Hey, there’s Scott. I’m gonna go say hi.’

Stiles looks after her as she walks to where his friend who miraculously popped up at that moment. He was probably in on this, Stiles realizes.

‘You find me comfortable?’ Derek asks.

‘Yes?’ Stiles says, turning back to face him. He peeks up from underneath is eyelashes. Derek is looking at him with wonder and happiness, his eyes wide, the tips of his ears a little red. Stiles’ heart is racing, and he’s never felt this brave. ‘And, because of that, I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me?’

Derek is smiling now, the brightness of it almost blinding Stiles.

‘I would love that.’

‘Good. Awesome. That’s great,’ Stiles grins back. He can’t look away from Derek, and Derek isn’t looking away from him. Stiles is more than happy to stand here forever, staring at Derek’s beautiful smile, in the middle of IKEA, but there’s a tap on his shoulder and a harassed looking woman with three children hanging off her looks at him with pleading eyes.

‘Sorry,’ Stiles says, only now realizing they’re standing in the middle of the path. He grabs Derek’s arm and pulls him in the direction Laura and Scott disappeared into.

When they’re moving along with the stream of people moving through the store, Stiles drops his hand, letting it brush against Derek’s. A warm tingle shoots up his arm.

‘I can’t believe Laura used her evil for good once,’ Stiles says.

‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that,’ Derek snorts. ‘She’s probably gonna make us repaint her house, or redo her garden, or something.’

Stiles looks up at Derek, who is already looking back at him, and shrugs.

‘Worth it.’

Derek links their pinkie fingers. ‘Definitely.’

Sparks. A Gabe Brown story

For Anon:

******************************************* Don’t be ridiculous.” Bam leaned back on the hard wooden seat of the café. “You’re probably going to scare her away with your breath anyway.” He clicked his spoon against the tabletop.

“There’s nothing wrong with my breath.” Gabe huffed into his hand and sniffed. “Is there?” He turned to Noah with an agonized look on his face.

“Bam.” Noah pleaded. “Please stop torturing him. He’s going to make us all suffer through this so don’t make it worse.”

Four of the Brown brothers were sitting in the small café in Hoonah, enjoying a cold drink and some pie. The fifth brother, Gabe, was sweating profusely and kept scratching nervously at his arms.

“Cut that out, man.” Matt swatted at Gabe’s hand and laughed. “People are going to think you have bugs crawling on you or something.”

“I can’t help it. I’m really nervous.” His voice rose with worry.

Gabe had been so excited about his blind date. When he had been preparing at home to meet her, he spent extra time on his hair and his clothes and his opening lines. He was feeling sure of himself and confident. Until Bear warned him not to panic over her reaction to seeing him in his new metal braces.

“I wish you hadn’t said anything, man.” Gabe groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Come on. She probably won’t even notice.” Bear waved his hand around and looked sideways at Bam who simply shook his head. Bear tossed his hair back and tried to look apologetic.

“Hey!” Matt bounced a little on his seat and tapped Gabe on the arm, making him pull his hands away from his face. “How about this?” Matt’s eyes were shining and he could barely contain himself.

Gabe’s look was so hopeful. Maybe Matt had a really good idea and he could begin to relax. Gabe nodded to his brother and waved a ‘come on’ gesture at him with his fingers.

“Maybe she won’t show up at all.” Matt said smiling, his eyes wide with encouragement.

“Seriously, dude?” Noah grimaced and tossed a wadded up napkin at Matt.

“Look.” Noah turned to face Gabe and fixed him with a serious stare. “If she’s your soulmate, she won’t care anything about your braces. If she’s the one for you, you will look into her eyes and sparks will fly and time will stand still. And if she’s not the one for you, then you still take her out, enjoy her company and then try again with another girl.”

“You say that like there are girls everywhere!” Gabe thrust out his jaw and poked at his braces with a straw.

“And if you plan to do that while you’re on the date, you might as well not even go. You look like a caveman picking dinosaur bits out of your teeth.” Bam frowned.

Gabe didn’t consider himself an insecure man. He knew he was handsome and smart and funny. So even though he might have had some anxiety about meeting this girl, he also thought he might have had a pretty good chance with her. But now with the braces, he simply wasn’t sure anymore how things would go. He had thought his brothers would help him find a way to feel better about the date, but even a blind person could see that wasn’t going the way he thought it would.

And he was out of time. The young girl stepped through the door of the café and looked around. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she was wearing large dark sunglasses. Gabe recognized her from the sky blue vest she had told him she would be wearing.

“Here goes nothing.” Gabe sighed and stood up to meet her.

As he walked across the floor, he checked her out and his heart sank. She was so cute. From her big leather boots to her black and white plaid shirt, she looked just like the kind of girl he wanted. Why couldn’t he have gotten the braces after he met her? Even so, he mentally rehearsed his opening line, including his own name. That’s how nervous he was.

“Hello, I’m Gabriel Brown. Hello, I’m Gabriel Brown.” He said over and over in his mind.

Taking the last step toward her, Gabe’s mouth dropped open when she took off her sunglasses. Her eyes were amazing!

“Hello, I’m Gabriel Brown.” He said out loud and smiled widely. In his excitement he forgot all about the metal braces on his teeth.

But Gabe’s heart thumped like a drum in his chest when she smiled back at him, displaying a mouth full of metal braces, top and bottom. As he grinned and held a hand out to lead her to a table off to one side, Gabe shot a glance and a thumbs up to his brothers.

The four brothers sat amazed at the turn of events. Bam held a hand up pretending to shade his eyes from the glare shining off all the metal on their teeth.

“Yep.” He chuckled. “When they kiss, sparks are definitely going to fly.”

Moments

Pic from: (x)

Prompt: “Okay, but if I win, you have to shave your beard. Deal?”
Warnings: None. Pure fluff.
Author’s note: Here is my submission for @balthazars-muse‘s No Shave November stories!

(P.S. - I tried to find a pic or gif of Jensen with a thick beard, but I could not. So here’s one of my favorite pics of him. And in all honestly, he looks handsome af with any beard. Hehe.)



“Y/n.”

You looked up from your breakfast of bacon and eggs. “Yeah?”

The eldest Winchester sank into the chair across from you and propped his elbows on the table. “You forgot about training, didn’t you.” It was a statement, not a question.

You squinted blearily at him. It was six in the morning. Here you were still in pajamas, trying to get through your breakfast without falling asleep and he was sitting there clad in a tank top and sweats looking wide eyed and bushy tailed. Not that you minded how he was dressed. The tank top was a change from his usual no less than two layers of clothing and the thin white material did wonders
to perfectly outline his physique.

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i wrote kuroko cutting kagami’s hair and is cheesy as fuck. read at your own risk.

read on AO3

“Your hair is getting long Kagami-kun.” Kagami blinked and ran a hand through his hair and tugged at the ends. It was true. Lately he felt his fringe annoyingly getting into his eyes during basketball practice, and during classes he kept shaking his head in annoyance.

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