Laro

21 · Spanish/English · Artist · IG/TT/X: laro_80_

[laro80]

REQUEST OPEN

Request rules:

— I’m only fully capable of capturing the essence of my favorite characters, but that doesn’t mean I won’t accept writing for others. I try to research before writing. — I have every right to decline a request if I feel I can’t do justice to the character in my writing or if I simply don’t like that character. — I will not write NSFW content if the characters are minors. — I post whenever inspiration strikes; I don’t have a fixed schedule.

To know me better:

— 21 years old — From Spain — I have other social media accounts dedicated solely to art: Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter—all under the same username: @/laro_80_

— I also have Wattpad, but I only write in Spanish there: @/laro_80 — Anime that changed my life:   · Bungou Stray Dogs   · Haikyuu   · Jujutsu Kaisen — Favorite characters who will always have a special place in my heart:   · Nakahara Chuuya   · Inumaki Toge   · Sherlock Holmes   · Kaji Ren

My DMs are always open, so don’t hesitate to message me if you want to talk!

[laro80]

Just a commission of a client's OC and Baby Saja

[laro80]

I have been busy these days, well, months, but I am here with a quick sketch of my fav two boys. II hope I’ll manage to find some time to write

[laro80]

I miss Baby Saja so much

My IG

[laro80]

Hi hi! Lovely to see another Kaji fan!

If you can, I’d love to see a one shot of Kaji with a s/o who’s able to handle his temper no problem. Maybe even a childhood friend who also protects the town every now and then.

Word count: 966

Warnings: nothing nothing

author's note: sorry. I'M LATE AND I KNOW I SAID I WANTED TO POST FIRST THE BABY SAJA FANFIC, but I am tired and really busy this days. So I decided to write this request to have a little fun.

You stepped out of the store that always stayed open twenty-four hours, a small bag of ice cradled in your hands. You carefully wrapped it in the silk handkerchief you always carried with you, as if that could make the cold feel less harsh.

Your steps carried you to the nearest bench, where Kaji was sitting. The sight was all too familiar: his body slouched forward, a hard frown carved into his face, and that dark, stormy gaze fixed on some empty point on the ground. His rough, scraped hands were gripping the edge of his gray hoodie as if holding onto it could keep him from falling apart. You could see it—he was trapped in his own head again, chewing on thoughts the way he always did after losing control.

You sat down beside him, letting the silence linger for a few seconds before daring to speak.

“Ren, it’s over,” you whispered gently, placing the ice on the left side of his head, right where he’d taken a blow. “The fight’s done, no one got seriously hur—”

You didn’t get to finish. A sharp movement slapped your hand away. Your brows shot up, surprise flashing across your face, but you didn’t react further.

“You don’t get it!” he shouted, his voice raw with rage. “You have no idea how I feel, (Y/n)!”

His head snapped up, eyes locking onto yours. Fury burned in them, his jaw clenched so tight it trembled like it was holding back something bigger than him.

His hands balled into fists, knuckles white, as though he was fighting the urge to punch something—or himself.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked calmly, meeting his eyes again. “You did what you could, Ren.”

“No! Damn it, that’s not it!” His voice cracked as he jumped to his feet. He took a few steps forward, his back to you, but the strain in his shoulders betrayed the storm raging inside him. “I try, damn it!” he turned back toward you, chest heaving like a cornered animal. “I try to control myself, I really do! But I always end up losing it!”

One of his hands clawed at the fabric of his hoodie, right over his chest, like he was trying to hold together something tearing him apart from the inside.

“Ren,” you called softly, trying to ground him. “Those guys got what they deserved. You—”

“But what if you’d been five seconds too late to stop me?!” he roared, cutting you off. “They’d be in the hospital right now! Or worse!” His hands dragged down his face before shooting upward toward the sky. “I’m so fucking tired,” he spat, before ripping his hands down again, shaking them in frustration. “I’m tired of it! You, Kusumi, Enomoto—you always have to hold me back. Do you know what that feels like?! To know you can’t even be trusted with your own damn self?!”

His back turned to you again. His voice was breaking, his breathing uneven. He was yelling, drowning you in his frustration, his anger, his despair—but you knew it wasn’t what he wanted. He hated himself when he exploded like this.

You stayed quiet, watching him until his voice faltered, leaving nothing but the ragged sound of his breathing.

Then, slowly, you set the bag of ice down on the bench and rose to your feet. You smoothed out your skirt with a steady hand before crossing the short distance between you and him.

“Ren,” you said again, but he didn’t answer. “Ren, look at me.” Nothing.

You pressed your lips together, resolved. Gently, you placed a hand on his shoulder and turned him toward you, refusing to let him escape your gaze.

“Ren.” Your voice was calm, but this time there was a quiet firmness to it.

“It’s easy for you to say,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “You don’t have to—”

“Ren, listen to me.” Your interruption, sharp but steady, stopped him cold. What surprised him more, though, was the warmth of your other hand cupping his cheek—a gesture you’d done before, but one he never seemed to get used to.

Your eyes met his, still burning with rage and pain.

“I know it’s not easy for you,” you said, clear and sure. “But I don’t need to understand every single thing you feel to stand by you. I’m not asking you to be perfect, Ren. I’m asking you to let me carry the weight with you.”

His gaze wavered. His lips pressed together tightly, his hands trembling—not from anger anymore, but from sheer helplessness.

“I know who you are, even when you doubt yourself,” you continued, your tone softening. “You’re someone who’s fighting his own storm every single day, someone who’s trying to change even if the world doesn’t see it. And yes, you’ll stumble. You’ll fall. But that’s why I’m here. Just like Kusumi. Just like Enomoto. We’re here to hold your hand, even if you scream, even if you break down. You protect this town, Ren… so let us protect you too.”

Your words hit him harder than any punch he had taken in that fight. His eyes widened slightly, his lips parted, and a trembling light flickered in them that he couldn’t hide. Something inside him cracked—not out of rage, but out of fragile, aching relief.

He swallowed hard, but no words came. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to your shoulder.

You could feel the warmth of his body trembling against yours—not with fury this time, but with vulnerability. His breath began to steady, and though his heart was still racing, you knew it wasn’t from anger anymore. It was from something deeper—something raw and unspoken that your touch had unearthed.

Kaji’s eyes shut tight, his hands hovering uncertainly between clenching and surrendering. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. Because in that heavy silence, you both understood—your presence was the only thing strong enough to quiet the storm raging inside him.

[laro80]

Using Hoshi reference every time I draw Baby

My linktr

[laro80]

KAJI REN — SMAU

author's note: I'm late, I know and I have a few requests but I am writing a story about BabySaja x F!Reader and I want to finish this first, but then I realized I haven't posted anything in days, so I did this quickly /sobbing.

[laro80]

hii I recently came up to your blog and you seem like a really cool person! if it's okay, can I request for Kaji who has a fem or gender neutral s/o who has heterochroma eyes? kinda like Sakura but without the split hair. thank you in advance if you do!!

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: nothiiiing

author's note: Sorry for taking so long… I had to rewrite this like four times because I had no idea how to start. I mean, from the beginning I knew how I wanted to write the ending, but not the beginning! I kept giving up and leaving it, but I finally finished it!

Like any other day, you joined Kaji’s group on their usual patrol around the city. By now, it was normal to see you tagging along, walking beside them during calm rounds or stepping into action during the inevitable confrontations. The second-year students from Bofurin already recognized your face when they crossed paths with you on the streets—some with respect, others with curiosity.

You stood out. Your presence was lively and energetic, and although that kind of attitude could have clashed with more serious personalities, no one seemed to mind. Especially not Enomoto, who genuinely seemed to enjoy having someone with such a similar vibe. Along with him and Kusumi, jokes and playful teasing went back and forth endlessly, keeping the atmosphere light. Kaji, on the other hand, preferred to keep his distance from those antics—not because he didn’t understand them, but because he simply didn’t find them amusing. And you all knew that. That’s why you kept him out of the jokes. Better safe than sorry.

Everything was laughter… until one day, Enomoto went a step too far.

Since the beginning of high school, you had worn tinted glasses—not for vision, but for style. You had several pairs, each with a different color, and you switched them depending on your outfit or mood. No one ever questioned why you wore them, even during fights. They suited you well, and if you wanted to wear them, who was anyone to stop you?

But on one ordinary afternoon in the park, Enomoto decided to pull one of his usual pranks. He approached you from behind, quiet and grinning, with the intention of snatching your glasses. Kusumi, your childhood friend who knew how sensitive the topic was for you, tried to stop him—but it was too late.

The moment you felt your glasses begin to lift off the bridge of your nose, your body acted on instinct. You spun around quickly and, without thinking, threw a punch straight at the prankster’s cheek. Enomoto hit the ground—more from shock than from the strength of the blow.

Kusumi let out a heavy sigh and shook his head in resignation.

Kaji watched the whole scene with his usual unreadable expression, though it was clear he was confused by what had just happened.

No one got angry at you. You immediately apologized, flustered and panicked, your voice trembling and your eyes filled with guilt. And to be fair… Kaji couldn’t really judge you—he had once sent Umemiya flying over something even more trivial.

Despite the incident, no one asked why you reacted the way you did. Enomoto, curious and a bit sore, tried to ask Kusumi, the only one who might’ve known the reason, but Kusumi would just shrug, avoiding the topic entirely.

A couple of weeks passed.

One afternoon, after dealing with a group of thugs who were harassing some kids in a park, you went over to a nearby fountain to clean your face. You had taken a hit to the cheek during the scuffle—nothing serious—but still, you stepped away from the group for a moment to refresh yourself.

You removed your glasses and hooked them onto the collar of your shirt. Then you bent down, scooped water into your hands, and splashed your face, letting the coolness soothe the sting.

You didn’t hear the footsteps approaching, too focused on cleaning up. Only when you lifted your gaze did you see him—Kaji, standing right in front of you.

And that’s when it happened: for the first time, he saw you without your glasses.

His eyes, always calm, locked onto yours. He didn’t say anything right away, but his eyebrows lifted ever so slightly—a subtle reaction, almost unnoticeable to someone who didn’t know him. He was surprised. Not by finding you there, but by what your eyes revealed: one color, and the other… different.

Heterochromia.

Startled, you reached for your glasses, ready to put them back on. But Kaji reached out and gently grabbed your wrist. It wasn’t a strong grip, but it was firm—enough to stop you.

You looked up at him, unsure, only to find his serious gaze fixed on you. As always, his expression gave nothing away. He was impossible to read.

“Is that why you always wear them?” he asked plainly, referring to your glasses.

He let go of your wrist when he saw your hesitation. You dropped your gaze to the glasses in your hands, searching for the words hiding somewhere between your embarrassment and discomfort. You took a deep breath.

“It’s hard to tell what color my eyes are with these glasses,” you murmured. It wasn’t a direct answer, but it was enough to confirm his suspicion. “I just… don’t like how I look.”

And it was true. Since you were little, your classmates' cruel comments about your mismatched eyes had stuck with you. You learned to hide, to protect yourself behind an accessory that eventually became your shield. It was easier that way. Fewer questions. Fewer stares. Less judgment.

You pressed your lips together, unsure whether to put your glasses back on. But before you could, Kaji spoke.

“Don’t hide them.”

His words were simple, but they carried an unexpected weight, as if he couldn’t accept the idea that you felt the need to hide something that, to him, didn’t need hiding. You stared at him, stunned, unable to react. For a moment, your mind went blank, as if time itself had paused. But Kaji had already turned his head and moved toward the fountain with his usual calmness.

The sound of running water briefly broke the silence that had settled between you, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the echo of his words. You repeated them again and again in your mind, searching for a hidden meaning, a joke, anything to make them easier to process.

“They’re pretty to look at,” he said.

It was a murmur—so quiet it was almost as if he didn’t want you to hear it. But you did. Every syllable hit you with painful clarity. For a moment, you thought you had imagined it, that your mind was playing tricks on you… but no. You heard him. Clearly. As clearly as the racing beat of your heart, thumping loud in your chest, as if it wanted to leap out and escape before you did.

You stood frozen, your glasses still dangling from your shirt collar, your fingers trembling slightly. Warmth spread from your neck to your cheeks, and you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment, surprise… or something deeper you didn’t yet dare name.

You looked away, trying to hide your face, but you knew your blush had already betrayed you. The air felt heavier somehow, like it had thickened between you, wrapping around your chest and making it harder to breathe. The tension wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was intense—filled with something unfamiliar, something you couldn’t quite understand.

And just when you thought you were the only one losing your composure, you saw it.

As Kaji leaned forward and splashed water onto his face, you noticed a small detail that made your breath catch for a second time.

His ears.

That faint red tint, blooming softly against his pale skin.

He was blushing.

The image disarmed you completely. Because he hadn’t just said those words—you could see that they had meant something to him. He was reacting, human and vulnerable, even if he tried to hide it. And that made you feel… special. Valid. Seen.

You said nothing, biting your lip gently as you lowered your gaze again, still processing everything that had just happened. You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to. Not in that moment.

But you knew. Your heart had already begun to mark that scene in your memory—

As something important.

As a turning point.

[laro80]

Okay hear me out.. but can we get a baker reader x mash like mash goes into to town to a bakery and meets the reader pleaseee

Word count: 1,6K

Warnings: Nothing!

author's note: I'm watching Mashle again, I forgot I love himSorry for the delay! I've just been more in the mood to draw than to write these days, but I’ve got it now! And I'm sorry but I didn't know how to write the end and I don't like what I did 😫

You were decorating a peach cake behind the counter, while the sound of laughter and casual chatter from the people sitting at the tables in your small, cozy café filled the background.

At that moment, everyone was served and happily enjoying their orders, giving you a rare window of time to focus on finishing the cake in front of you. That is, until the bell above the door rang out with an unusually loud cling-cling, followed immediately by the sharp noise of something breaking—or rather, something being forcefully ripped apart.

Your head snapped up instantly, just like everyone else's, and all eyes turned toward the boy who had just entered.

Your eyes widened in disbelief when you saw a tall young man with a neutral expression… holding your café’s door.

Yes—holding it with his hands, because he had quite literally torn it off its frame.

"Uhm…"

"Sorry. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to push or pull" The boy glanced down at the door, then looked back up at you as if nothing were out of the ordinary "I’ll fix it now."

Panic gripped you as he began smashing the door against the frame, clearly trying to put it back in place—but doing so completely wrong. The door was sideways!

"Wait, wait!"

You quickly grabbed your wand from the pocket of your apron and used a spell to levitate the door out of his hands before he could cause more damage.

"Oh."

He stood there watching the floating door with mild interest. You stepped out from behind the counter, wand still in hand, guiding the door in midair.

"It’s okay, everyone. You can go back to what you were doing—I’ve got it under control."

You reassured your customers, who were still silent and staring. At your words, they slowly resumed their conversations, though a few kept sneaking glances at the scene unfolding.

With a deep sigh, you turned your attention back to the boy, who now seemed focused entirely on you.

"I don’t understand how you managed to tear the whole door off, but… this could’ve been avoided if you had just controlled your strength."

You tried to keep your tone light, not wanting to sound too harsh, but it still came out like a mild scolding. The boy tilted his head and lowered his gaze to the floor.

"I’m sorry…" He murmured softly.

You immediately felt a pang of guilt. You hadn’t expected him to apologize so quickly, nor that he’d seem genuinely remorseful.

You sighed again, rubbing your temple with your fingers.

"It’s all right. Just… be more careful next time, okay?"

But when you lifted your head to look at him again—he was gone.

You blinked, frowning, confused. Your gaze swept the room left to right, searching for him.

You turned around—and there he was, standing in front of the display case near the counter, staring at the cream buns with intense focus. He didn’t even seem to blink.

"Okay...?" You mumbled to yourself, still confused, since you hadn’t seen him move at all.

You reattached the door with magic and put your wand away again before walking over to him, hands behind your back. You stopped beside him, looking at the cream buns for a moment as well, then tilted your head slightly to glance at him.

"Would you like something?"

"I heard this new café sells all kinds of sweets, and I wanted to try the cream buns." He turned to you, his gaze unwavering.

"Oh, yes! I opened just a couple of weeks ago." You stepped behind the counter again and grabbed your wand, levitating a pair of cream buns "How many would you like?"

"All of them."

You blinked. Once. Then again.

At first, you let out a small laugh, then a nervous one when you saw he was completely serious. That blank, confident expression hadn’t changed at all.

"Uhm… How about I give you two to start, and you can try them first?" You smiled awkwardly, offering the two floating buns in front of you. "For here or to go?"

"For here"

"Got it!" You looked around the café for a free table. "You can sit over there!" You pointed toward an empty spot. "I’ll bring the buns to you in a moment."

He nodded silently and made his way toward the table you had indicated.

You summoned a dessert plate from the cupboard and gently placed the cream buns on top. With a small gesture, you levitated the plate and walked over to where the boy was now seated, waiting patiently.

"Here you go." You carefully placed the plate in front of him. "Enjoy. I hope you like them." You put your wand away and clasped your hands behind your back.

Without delay, he picked up the first bun and took a bite.

He looked serious—well, more serious than before—and completely focused, like he was analyzing every bite.

You started to sweat nervously as you watched him. He looked like a professional judge of cream buns. For some reason, his opinion suddenly mattered a lot.

And just when your mind was spiraling into worst-case scenarios, he froze completely, eyes wide open.

That scared you.

"A-Are you okay—?" You tried to ask, but he cut you off by suddenly turning his head to look straight at you.

"These are the best cream buns I’ve ever had in my life."

"Eh...?" Your eyebrows shot up. His words caught you completely off guard.

You could see the sparkle in his eyes, and you could almost swear little pink flowers bloomed around him as he looked at you.

"Really? "You asked, even though it was obvious he meant every word.

"What’s your name?"

"O-oh, uhm… (Y/n)."

" (Y/n), can I have more?"

"But… you haven’t even finished." But before you could finish the sentence, you blinked—and the buns were gone. The plate was completely empty.

Before you could process what had just happened, he held the plate out to you.

"I want more, please." He asked kindly.

You were so stunned that you forgot all about your wand and simply took the plate from his hands with your own.

"All right…" You lowered your gaze to the empty dish. But before turning to go, now fully back in your senses, you remembered to ask. "What’s your name?"

"Mash."

You couldn’t help but smile warmly as you replied:

"I’m glad you liked them so much, Mash. I’ll bring you some more right away."

[laro80]

GOO GOO GA GA I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS GUY AHHHGGGGG AHHHHHHHHH

My IG if you are interested

[laro80]

Your art is so pretty!! Would you ever consider posting your art on Tumblr? I would love to reblog it :)

Hiiiii! I’m so glad you like my drawings, thank you so much!

About posting on Tumblr — I originally made this account for writing, but I’ve been thinking about sharing my art here too. On other social media, I grew a lot thanks to Dazai and Chuuya fanart, and it kind of stayed that way. I don’t get the same support when I draw characters from anime other than BSD, so I’m thinking of posting my non-BSD art here because I really want to be multifandom and I’d love for people to appreciate my art whether it’s BSD or not!

HERE A KIRYU DRAWING

My IG if you are interested

[laro80]

SO SO SO

I've been busy — well, hanging out with my friends because summer finally arrived and school’s over (help, the heat is killing me). I didn’t have time to write, but now, theoretically, I’m free. I’ll make up for my absence with drawings!

My IG if you are interested!

[laro80]

He's still learning! || Mash x F!reader

Summary: love is a new emotion for him... Maybe he doesn't understand about this topic, but he was trying, alright...?

Word count: 2K

Warnings: He being too cute

author's note: I'm watching Mashle again, I forgot I love him

You had just arrived at your dorm room. Your new dorm room. It had only been an hour and a half since you started unpacking: clothes in the closet, books on the shelf, some papers scattered on the desk. Everything was going quite well.

Until you heard a sharp, loud, unexpected crack. You turned around immediately.

And there he was.

A boy with jet-black hair and golden eyes was standing right in the middle of the doorframe.

You blinked a couple of times, confused. What was he doing there? Wasn’t there a door a second ago? Why was the frame... empty?

Then you noticed it. You opened your eyes wide, stunned. The boy was holding your dorm room door. Whole. Torn off completely. Like it was made of cardboard. He held it with both hands as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Oh, hi,” he said calmly, looking first at you, then at the wooden door he held. “Uh, sorry for breaking the door. I wasn’t sure whether to push or pull.”

You blinked again. Twice.

You were still holding a stack of books — at least seven thick volumes you hadn’t put on the shelf next to your bed yet — and hadn’t even noticed your arms starting to ache from the weight. You were too stunned.

“I think... you got the wrong dorm...” you muttered, still processing the scene in front of you.

“Really?” he asked, genuinely confused, as if he hadn’t considered that.

“The boys’ dorms are upstairs.”

“Oh.” He stayed silent for a few seconds, nodding slowly. Then gave a small, awkward but polite bow. “Thank you for telling me. You’re very kind.”

He looked at the door as if he just remembered he still had it in his hands. Not knowing what to do with it, he carefully leaned it against the wall, right where it used to fit in the frame.

“I’ll leave it here...” he muttered, and when he took his hands off to make sure it wouldn’t fall, he turned back to look at you. “So... I’m going.”

And yes, that was your first encounter with Mash, the first time you spoke... and it wasn’t the last.

Weeks later, that surreal image — him holding the door like it was paper — still popped into your mind from time to time. But what was even more curious wasn’t that.

What was curious was that now you were part of his group.

You didn’t know exactly when it happened. Maybe it was after Finn lent you a pen when you forgot yours, or when Dot tried to impress you with ridiculous spells and nearly set a curtain on fire, or when Lemon dragged you along to keep an eye on Mash because he tends to get into trouble just trying to get some cream from the kitchen (she just wants an excuse to see him), or when Lance, for some reason, ended up having a little argument with you and showed you the T-shirt he was wearing that had his sister’s face printed on it.

The truth was, without realizing it, you started sitting with them in the dining hall, studying in the same corner of the library, joining them on missions, trainings, or just casual afternoons chatting (or, in Mash’s case, intense silences while eating sweets without saying a word).

You were now part of the group. As if you had always been there.

Everything was going well.

Normal.

At first, Mash didn’t notice. You were just a constant, familiar presence. Another friend he was glad to have, someone who was part of his daily life without it feeling strange. But over time, his behavior began to change. There could be tiny gestures, seemingly normal, kind details like he had with his friends... but he noticed something felt off.

Or rather, different. But he didn’t know what to call it.

One day, you were carrying a box full of glass cups used in the last class. The teacher asked you to take them to the storage room where the practice materials were kept. The box wasn’t very heavy; you could carry it for a while, though the edges started digging into your fingers, making you hurry but carefully so nothing would break.

Then suddenly, you felt the weight disappear.

Or rather... the box was gone.

You looked up and saw him. Mash. Now he was the one holding the box with one hand, completely silent.

“Mash, I can do it alone, don’t worry,” you said, a bit puzzled.

“I know. But I do it faster.”

And with that, he took off, running with impeccable balance. At an impossible speed, yet not a single glass moved, even though he held the box with only one hand.

Yes, that kind of thing he could do for any friend, and that was your first thought. After all, it was Mash. Someone who cared deeply about the people close to him, with a heart of gold. But that gesture started happening way too often when it came to you. He was always there to help, always insisting on carrying anything you had, no matter if you needed it or not.

And lately, his interest was obvious every time you spoke.

In class, especially in theoretical lessons, he usually didn’t pay attention or simply froze, unable to process so much information. Many times he was paralyzed or distracted, but when he heard your voice...

His head turned immediately, almost ridiculously fast, like an owl. He stared at you every time you answered a question or asked one without shame.

His direct gaze was clear. Yet you always took classes seriously and never noticed his eyes fixed on you.

Somehow, Mash always ended up sitting next to you. Whether it was in the dining hall or the library, it didn’t matter if he arrived first or last: the seat next to you always became his.

And if someone came before him and took your usual spot, he didn’t stay quiet.

“You’re in her spot,” he’d say, serious.

“What?” the other boy would ask, confused, looking around for someone standing there. “Since when does she have an assigned seat?”

“Since now.”

The young boy would chuckle nervously, trying to brush it off, but he’d end up standing up. Because Mash didn’t blink, didn’t hesitate, and his presence was too firm to argue with over something so small.

Other days you’d bump into him in the school halls or he’d walk with you even if it wasn’t the direction he needed to go. It didn’t matter if you had different classes or had to go to different places, he was there.

“Mash, weren’t you going the other way?” you’d ask, raising an eyebrow and pointing to the path he was supposed to take.

“Yes, but I can go this way too.”

And well... isn’t love just beautiful?

It’d be even better if Mash could understand what he was feeling.

Because his situation was complicated. His emotions were growing, clear and strong, all directed at you. But he didn’t know what to do with them. He had never felt anything like this before. Love always seemed unnecessary, confusing... even ridiculous.

And now it was right there, on him. Without a name.

That’s why he needed help.

One ordinary day, students were in their classes. It was the five-minute break before the next lesson and Mash was in his usual seat. The classroom was the only place he didn’t sit next to you, because from the start he was assigned Finn as his desk partner.

Mash stared at you while you studied for the exam. An exam he hadn’t even heard about. But he didn’t care. Not when you were there, so focused, frowning as you read, biting your pencil without realizing it.

“Ahhh, Mash!” Finn exclaimed, running into the classroom.

He came in out of breath, hair messy, and a mountain of notes under his arm as if dragged by a whirlwind. His papers scattered halfway down the hall, but he didn’t stop to pick them up. He went straight to his seat and collapsed into the chair like he had crossed a desert.

“I forgot there was an exam today! I’m done for! I’m going to fail!” he moaned, throwing his papers chaotically across the desk.

He rested his elbows, covered his face with both hands, and slowly slid them down his face, leaving a trail of pure despair.

“I can’t, I can’t—”

He froze.

Mash didn’t move.

He didn’t make his usual confused comment. Didn’t ask “what exam?” or seem to enter his classic brain-freeze mode. He didn’t even blink.

Finn narrowed his eyes. Something was off.

“Mash?” he said, snapping his fingers in front of his face.

Nothing. Still. Like a statue. A statue with eyes fixed in one direction.

He followed the gaze and found you, at your usual desk a few meters away. You had your head down, reviewing your notes, completely unaware of what was going on. Focused, calm. Biting the pen cap without realizing it, like you usually did when studying.

Finn looked back at his friend. Mash didn’t blink.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked, lowering his voice, genuinely worried now.

“I think I’m sick.”

“What?”

Finn raised his eyebrows in surprise at his friend’s comment, since he had never gotten sick, had amazing defenses, and hearing him admit it was very strange.

Mash kept staring at you. Not even blinking.

“I feel like my heart isn’t doing its job,” he said, as if making a clinical observation.

Finn blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“It hurts. But not like when you train and your muscles burn. It’s different. Here,” he pointed at his chest without looking away.

Finn watched him silently. The guy who once accidentally lifted half a ton and went to breakfast like it was nothing... was complaining about pain?

“Like a heart attack?” he asked, already starting to think emergency.

“I don’t know. Sometimes it beats faster than normal. Like when I run. But I’m sitting.”

“Do you have trouble breathing?”

“No. It only happens when I look at her.”

Finn looked at him. Then at you. Then back at him.

And then he understood.

He put his hands on his face, slid them like before, and letout a long, exhausted sigh.

He sighed so hard he almost fell off the chair.

“Mash...”

Mash finally looked at him, expecting a medical answer.

“You have a crush.”

“Is that serious?”

Finn smacked his forehead with his palm.

“No. Well, it depends. But no, it’s not a disease. It means you like (L/n). You like her. You want to be with her. Your heart knows it. You, clearly, don’t.”

Mash squinted, thoughtful.

“Like? But she’s my friend.”

“Exactly! Sometimes feelings start there.” Mash stared at him thoughtfully, not very convinced by his answers. It was hard to understand for him

“I’m not sure. Is it like wanting to lift more weight to impress her?”

Finn got desperate.

“No! Well, yes... a little. It’s like when you see a cream that shines brighter than all the others. And you only want that one. Even if there are others.”

Mash didn’t respond. He looked... confused. As if all the information was new, although it was clearly something he’d felt. He just didn’t have the words to name it.

“Finn. How do you study love?”

Finn chuckled and leaned back in his chair.

“You don’t study it. You live it. And you’re doing it, in Mash mode.”

Mash nodded very slowly. Then he stayed still. So still Finn thought he had rebooted.

“Mash?”

“I’m trying to feel that heart thing again. To confirm.”

Finn covered his face with his hands again.

“It’s more... when you don’t understand what you feel, but you know it’s important. That you want to be with that person for no logical reason. That you care, even when they don’t do anything special.”

Finn tried to explain again with all the patience in the world, though he was running out of it. He didn’t even know if he had limits. This situation was frustrating him.

Mash lowered his gaze, thoughtful. Then looked back at her.

His heart went bum bum bum again.

“…So, yes. I’m ‘liking’ her.”

Finn finally smiled and sighed in relief. At last, Mash understood it, or half understood.

“And now what do I do?” Mash asked curiously. Though his face stayed calm, there was impatience in his tone.

“Hmmm.” Finn grabbed his chin and muttered silently, thinking of the best simple answer for him. “Do what you always do. Be yourself. Although maybe don’t talk about bench presses the first five minutes.”

Mash nodded. Then stood up decisively and walked straight toward you, with his usual serious face, not knowing he was about to confess something... the Mash way.

While you were still looking at the papers on the table, you felt a presence in front of you, so you looked up and were surprised to see your friend Mash right there.

“Oh, Mash. Do you need som—?”

“Want some cream? It’s vanilla. I like it a lot. I think I like you too.”

[laro80]

MMMMMM, I ALSO DRAW¿?¿?

I was supposed to have Tumblr just for writings but I ALSO WANT TO POST DRAWINGS CUZ on Instagram almost of my followers prefer Soukoku so...

Basically, I will post here drawings of NO Soukoku

ENJOY

My IG

[laro80]

Did you think you were in control? || Luka x Reader

AU: Actor!Luka x Actress!Reader

Summary: ou've always loved your job, but you never imagined having such a tedious partner. He tests your patience, but in the end, you confront him.

Word count: 1,3K

Warnings: nothing(?) maybe some suggestive words or actions.

author's note: I love Luka, I mean, LOOK AT HIM, he is so handsome.

One way or another, Luka always found a way to get under your skin. It didn’t matter the place, the situation, or how many times you silently swore that today you wouldn’t fall for his games; he always found the perfect way to make you lose your patience.

From the very first day you were assigned as co-stars in that big sci-fi production, you knew your work life was about to get complicated. Luka wasn’t just handsome and charming; he had that kind of presence that filled the room whether you liked it or not. And for some reason, he seemed determined to focus all that annoying and seductive energy on you.

Every time you rehearsed or filmed a scene together, the story repeated itself. Luka never missed an opportunity to get closer than necessary, invading your personal space with a casualness that could only be intentional. He knew perfectly well how uncomfortable it made you, and yet—or maybe because of that—he did it constantly.

And when it wasn’t about proximity, it was the takes. Luka had the habit of making you repeat scenes unnecessarily. You could deliver a flawless performance, but he would “accidentally” forget a line or improvise something off-script, forcing a redo. And the worst part was he always did it with an innocent smile and that sly look that clearly said, “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Then there were his compliments. Some were almost sweet, the kind that could be mistaken for kindness if they weren’t said so brazenly. But most… were provocations with an unmistakably loaded undertone. Suggestive praise, double entendre remarks, whispers in your ear when no one was watching. He knew you got furious, and he also knew that blush you tried so hard to hide said it all.

Luka was, in short, an unbearable, shameless, and downright insufferable partner. But there was one thing you couldn’t deny: he was an excellent actor. He delivered exactly what was needed in front of the camera, had charisma, presence, and an innate ability to captivate the audience. That’s why, no matter how annoying he was behind the scenes, no one dared to reprimand him. Everyone adored him.

That morning, you had a promotional photo shoot. Since your characters in the movie were a couple, the theme couldn’t be anything else: romance.

Just thinking about it put you in a bad mood.

From the moment you arrived on set, you felt the weight of what was coming. The soft lighting, the intimate atmosphere, the bedroom set... everything was prepared to capture “warm and natural” moments between you. For you, that meant being way too close to Luka for way too long.

And he, of course, seemed to be enjoying it from the very first second.

You hated every suggested pose, every damn inch that brought you closer to him. You hated his muffled laughs when you pretended not to be uncomfortable. You hated his hands landing exactly where you didn’t want them. And you hated even more that your body reacted to it all.

“Alright, alright! Next pose!” the photographer exclaimed cheerfully as the crew adjusted the lights, lowered the intensity, and shifted the camera angles.

You already knew what was coming. And from the way Luka moved forward without hesitation, he did too.

He sat on the edge of the bed, the main prop on set, and without asking permission—as usual—wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you towards him effortlessly.

You weren’t expecting it. Your hands instinctively went to his shoulders to keep your balance, and before you knew it, you were sitting on his lap, facing him, your knees resting on the mattress, one on each side of his waist.

Too close. Too intimate. Too Luka.

His triumphant smile, that cocky expression so typical of him, only made a vein pop on your forehead. You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your composure… though you knew the slight heat rising on your cheeks already gave you away.

“Come on, don’t make that face,” he murmured, leaning in just enough for you to feel his breath against the skin of your neck. “We’re supposed to be a couple for these photos, right? You should at least look a little happy to be this close to me.”

“Get away,” you snapped in a dry tone. “You’re way too close.”

Luka let out a soft, clearly mocking laugh. And, of course, instead of pulling away, he tightened his grip on your waist.

“Your heart is racing a thousand miles an hour… is that why you want me away?” He looked straight into your eyes, his pupils gleaming with mischief. When he saw your frown, his smile widened with obvious satisfaction.

“It’s not like that!” you retorted, though you weren’t even sure if you were saying it for him… or for yourself.

“Mmm…” he murmured in a low voice before burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Your body tensed immediately at the soft brush of his lips against your skin. That gentle, almost imperceptible touch sent a shiver down your spine.

You hated that he could make you tremble like that.

“You’re crossing the line,” you whispered, low but sharp. “Move your face away. You’re disgusting.”

You tried to push him gently, careful not to cause a scene in the middle of the set where technicians were still adjusting lights and the photographer was reviewing shots. But Luka stayed put, holding onto you like his life depended on it.

“You’re trembling,” he said playfully, eyes closed.

“Get off.”

Your words were barely a whisper but carried all the anger you could muster. Then you felt it.

A light kiss on your neck.

That was it. You’d had enough.

Without thinking, you grabbed his hair, holding it firmly at the nape of his neck, and pulled his head back. Luka gasped in surprise at your sudden firmness. You leaned close to his ear, close enough that only he could hear.

“Stop. Playing.” Your voice was low, firm, and passive-aggressive. “I’m not your toy, Luka. You’re not going to keep mocking me. You’re crossing the line, and believe me… I can ruin you if I want. Do you understand?”

Luka didn’t need to see you to know you were dead serious. The change in your tone, the tremor in your grip, the complete absence of blush… all that was enough.

His hands, which had been steady on your waist, now barely held the fabric of your white shirt. And, for the first time, it seemed like he was the one trembling.

“Oh, I love it! That perfect pose, hold it a little longer!” the photographer exclaimed excitedly, still snapping shots, unaware that the stance you had taken was filled with rage.

But neither you nor Luka were paying attention anymore.

You slowly lifted your head and looked him in the eyes. His expression had completely changed: lips pressed together, eyebrows slightly raised, pupils dilated. He was surprised. Disoriented. Vulnerable.

“Do you know what the problem with playing too much is?” you murmured, still with that venomous control in your voice. “Sometimes the game blows up in your face. So don’t keep tempting fate… because it might run out.”

Right then, the photographer signaled the session was over.

You released his hair and stood up, not glancing at him once more. You walked straight to your manager, who congratulated you and immediately started briefing you on the next activity on your schedule.

You were convinced you’d shocked him. That you’d scared him off and that he would finally stop bothering you.

But you were wrong.

Luka stayed sitting on the bed, cheeks flushed, lips slightly parted, eyes fixed on you as you walked away.

He had never seen you like that before. You’d never confronted him with such confidence, with such control. And for some damn reason… that excited him.

The firm grip on his hair, your aggressive voice in his ear, your eyes full of rage… Luka felt something in his chest he couldn’t control.

His heart was racing like crazy.

And now, more than ever, he wanted to provoke you again.

Just to see you like that once more.

[laro80]

KIRYU AS YOUR BOYFRIEND — PART 1

— He has a strange but adorable obsession with your cheeks

Ever since he first saw you, he hasn’t dropped this habit. From the moment you two started getting to know each other — and especially once you became a couple — as soon as he got comfortable around you (which didn’t take long), he hasn’t stopped poking and squishing your cheeks like dough for making bread.

He does it every chance he gets. Doing homework? Cheeks. Watching a movie? Cheeks. Eating? Still cheeks.

“Mitsu, I’m busy” you frowned, glancing at him from the corner of your eye as you worked on some burgers.

“And…? Your hands are still free to cook” he let out a mischievous laugh while reaching out to touch your cheek, leaning casually against the counter.

You sighed and rolled your eyes “You know what I mean!”

“You can’t ask for the impossible!” he whined before cupping your face with both hands and gently turning your head to make you look at him “Your cheeks are just so squishy and soft!”

— He probably knows more about skincare and makeup than you do, and he takes really good care of your skin

On social media, he gets tons of videos about makeup tips and skincare products that are perfect for maintaining healthy skin.

Kiryu doesn’t hesitate to try them out — but only after making sure they’re safe and checking all the comments for reviews.

Every now and then, when you're spending a lazy afternoon at your place, he’ll show you the tutorials he found (always simple but pretty looks, often featuring soft pastel tones).

And every night you spend together, you two do a full skincare routine — creams, masks, cleansers — everything. He helps you through it all.

“Oh! It’s pink and has little watermelon slices on it!” you exclaimed with sparkles in your eyes as you pulled the new mask out of the bag “And it smells like watermelon too!”

Kiryu smiled, watching you through the mirror’s reflection.

“I knew you’d like it” he said as he finished applying his own mask and then turned to face you. “Come here, I’ll help you put it on” he added gently, brushing strands of your hair aside and clipping them back with care.

— He doesn’t like seeing you in a bad mood or serious, so he has a peculiar way to make you smile

I mean, who likes seeing their partner truly upset, especially if it’s because of a joke? No one, obviously. And sometimes it’s hard to get your partner to talk and forgive you. But Kiryu? Kiryu doesn’t just stand there with his arms crossed.

The moment he sees your bottom lip pout and your brow slightly furrowed, he pounces on you to attack with… tickles!

“Sweetie, why won’t you talk to me?” he asked for the third time while you turned your back to him, arms crossed. “Come on… talk to me…” he insisted, trying to turn you around but failing “Is it because I said you’re terrible at the game? You know I’m not serious!”

You didn’t answer. Kiryu sighed, looking defeated. Or so you thought.

His hands hovered near your ribs without touching them, and before you knew it, you were laughing uncontrollably as his fingers found your most ticklish spots. “Hey! No! Stop! STOP!” you begged seconds later, both of you on the floor — him on top, you beneath “Okay! OKAY, ALRIGHT, ALRIIGHTTT!!!”

He stopped when he was satisfied, seeing your frown had disappeared. Looking at you with intense but loving eyes, he made you blush.

“Feeling better now?” he asked softly, a sweet but cheeky smile playing on his lips. “I really like it when your cheeks are red” and he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

— He loves you in many ways, but kissing your hand is his favorite language

Kiryu loves showing you affection — whether it’s through little gestures, small gifts, actions, or words. But if there’s something he does over and over, almost without thinking, it’s kissing your hand.

Anytime you’re holding hands — whether you're talking, walking, or just sitting in comfortable silence — he gently lifts your hand to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles. He doesn’t announce it, and he’s not trying to get your attention. He does it like it’s second nature, like your hand has a magnetic pull for his affection.

Sometimes he does it with a faint smile, sometimes without even looking at you, but always with that tender gesture that says more than words ever could.

You were walking through the streets after spending the afternoon together, just enjoying the last moments of daylight before the night arrived. You were telling him a story — something that had happened to you earlier that day — and he was listening intently.

That’s when you felt him take your hand, gently intertwine his fingers with yours, and lift it toward his face to press a sweet, soft kiss against it.

Even though he had done it countless times before, it still caught you off guard. And when you turned to look at him, he was already watching you — that gentle smile on his lips making your cheeks flush warm.

[I wanted to draw Kiryu for this post but I don't have timeeee. I have it but in sketch, it's not finished]

[laro80]

KAJI AS YOUR BOYFRIEND — PART 1

— Don’t stare at him for so long, he’ll blush!

You were at Kotoha’s café, sitting alone at a table across from each other. Kaji had his phone and headphones on because Enomoto had sent a voice message in the group chat and he needed to listen to it.

While you waited, you kept watching him with your elbows on the table and your hands cupping your cheeks. Not to mention, you had a smile planted on your face.

Kaji didn’t notice your gaze at first. A few seconds later, his eyes shifted from the screen to your face, and he fell silent while the audio kept playing.

He didn’t understand—why were you looking at him so intently?

When he saw you weren’t looking away, his cheeks turned crimson, and his brows furrowed, giving away the frustration and nervousness you were causing him.

"W-what are you looking at, huh!?" he snapped defensively, making you chuckle softly.

Kaji forgot the audio was still playing and had to re-listen to the whole thing—thanks to you.

— Kaji isn’t someone who easily understands humor, especially when it comes to memes

Kaji noticed how much you love memes and stickers—you send them to the group chat constantly. He used to frown at them, not really understanding the joke, but he wanted to. Obviously—because he’s your boyfriend and he wants to understand you.

So ever since then, he saves every meme or sticker he comes across and shows them to you if he thinks you might like them.

"Is this funny?" he’d ask with a slight frown "What about this one? And this one?"

— He loves listening to you and has a list of favorite words

Kaji is someone who prefers listening over talking, and the person he most enjoys listening to is you. He doesn’t mind at all when you ramble on, whether it’s something silly or serious—though sometimes, his mind drifts off and he gets distracted.

Until he hears a word he likes the sound of—or rather, he likes how you say it. That’s when he’ll interrupt you.

"Can you say 'solar storm' again?"

"¿Huh?"

— You thought Kaji was the kind of person who snores in his sleep, but you were wrong! He does something completely different!

It was your first night sleeping over at his place. It was past two in the morning when you woke up to the sound of someone talking.

You opened your eyes and rubbed them as you propped yourself up on your elbows. Then you turned your head and saw Kaji frowning slightly, his lips forming a faint pout.

You raised an eyebrow, confused. Was he dreaming?

"My lightsaber isn’t red, it’s blue" he mumbled in a grumpy tone.

You made a puzzled face as he kept talking and making weird expressions. That’s when you realized—he didn’t snore in his sleep; he talked. And you could clearly see every expression forming on his face.

Needless to say, you’ve recorded him many times—and you're just waiting for the right moment to show him the videos.

— Kaji needs a LOT of privacy when you send voice messages

For some reason, he gets super shy about listening to your voice notes when he’s around people—whether it’s friends or family. It doesn’t matter if the audio is three seconds or two minutes long.

Whenever Kaji sees a voice message notification from you, he immediately steps away from everyone, finds a quiet little corner, turns his back to the room, and hides his phone. Then he puts on his headphones and finally listens to the messages you sent.

He even has to take the lollipop out of his mouth and hold it in his free hand just to concentrate and listen to the audio!