#unfxted

> 𝙰𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚎.

Joe had been eyeing Keiji for a while now, but it was only until the others were out of earshot that he moved in closer to speak to him in a low, almost conspiratorial tone.

“…Hey, man. So like, your biceps are the size of my head, right? I was wonderin’… what kinda exercises d'ya even do to get muscles like that?” Q-taro was even bigger, of course, but that guy was a pro athlete. Joe had never seen a policeman this built.

                  He finds this kind of encounter almost comical. Sure, he took just a bit of pride in toned appearance. Yet, this type of strength was accumulated ever since his sights were set on law enforcement. Keiji occasionally surprises himself that he still maintained himself this way.

“You looking to gain some muscle yourself, Joe?”

                    Humoring him, he thinks about his daily regiment. Most of his time was spent running around, general workout intervals, and occasionally weight training when he felt like he could stand being in a gym for an hour or two. 

Russian - Caravan Palace

‘Really? That’s what he chose to focus on?’ This wasn’t the conversation Izuku had been planning on having when he asked Monoma to cut back on antagonizing his class, but he found that he couldn’t help but feel a little intrigued.

“…Um, what is the difference exactly?” he asked hesitantly.

“Trash talk is just the use of creative insults.” Monoma set his mug of tea down on the table in front of them, happy to explain and to dismiss the original request.

“Does it?” Ren tilted his head with a coy smile. “Because I feel great.”

That...wasn’t the point. Ren thought he was being cute. He wasn’t.

“Care to test your luck again?” Akechi countered with a rather grim smirk.

“Hah, what are you saying ‘you’ for?” Hinata said, arms crossed and lips curved into an expectant smile. “You should know by now that I won’t let you sit this out. The changes that we want to see in the world… It’ll take every last one of us to make sure that happens.”

He leaned over to poke a finger against Komaeda’s chest. “That is why I came to talk to you. Don’t try to deflect, it won’t work on me.”

For all the times Komaeda wished others would better understand his intentions, being seen through so directly was...a rare experience. Or, it had been previously. Hinata’s new insights (and Kamukura’s, he supposed) often left him feeling exposed. It was a strange mix of anxiety and exhilaration, like being dangled off a building or held at gunpoint by the person he could never prevent from doing so (willingly or otherwise). He was helpless against him, and many times he wasn’t sure he wanted to change that.

At the moment, however, it was just inconvenient.

Komaeda raised his hands in sheepish placation, leaning half-heartedly away from the indicting finger. “I don’t mean to be misleading. But you know, of course, that there is no point in me having goals. My luck can barely be called a talent. I can’t control it in the same reliable way a person would use a skill. The grander my aim, the greater potential there is for things to go horribly wrong. It would be overestimating me to believe anything will turn out just the way I plan it; that would probably end in disappointment at best. For somebody as useless as me...I’m not meant to have goals.

@unfxted

Monoma straightens from looming over Mikumo’s shoulder and strokes his own chin, eyes straying from the intricate blueprints on the desk to glance sidelong, appraising his classmate keenly.

My Favorite Murder starters