[Ah, that helps explain it. No adult supervision, heh. Coupled with perverts who are worse than Yato, it would seem. Ah well, that's teenagers for you. Endless hormones and brains in the gutter. Too bad they didn't get what they were after.
If nothing else the crowd will certainly know which of them not to mess with during any future competitions, it must be said. Though Yato would've preferred it if he didn't end up looking quite so pathetic by being unceremoniously posted into the snowbank like said tent peg. Something with a little more dignity would've been nice! Like erecting a statue or something! But this is what he gets for being an ass, honestly. What goes around, comes around; he's just lucky Bakugo didn't opt to duct tape him to something and leave him there all winter.
...damn. He's definitely going to have to watch his back. And his front, probably, for good measure.
Smarmy commentary aside, Yato begins doing a kind of wiggle worm movement, inching himself out of the snow slowly, one grunt at a time. His feet still flail now and then, but he's making a concerted effort to get out of the cold before he catches one. (Hah.)]
How 'bout we call it a draw? Pff! [Gah! Snow in his mouth--! It'd be kind of nice if it weren't so damned COLD. Once he's about halfway freed, he feels something hit his legs, leading him to yelp and flail about more.]
no subject
If nothing else the crowd will certainly know which of them not to mess with during any future competitions, it must be said. Though Yato would've preferred it if he didn't end up looking quite so pathetic by being unceremoniously posted into the snowbank like said tent peg. Something with a little more dignity would've been nice! Like erecting a statue or something! But this is what he gets for being an ass, honestly. What goes around, comes around; he's just lucky Bakugo didn't opt to duct tape him to something and leave him there all winter.
...damn. He's definitely going to have to watch his back. And his front, probably, for good measure.
Smarmy commentary aside, Yato begins doing a kind of wiggle worm movement, inching himself out of the snow slowly, one grunt at a time. His feet still flail now and then, but he's making a concerted effort to get out of the cold before he catches one. (Hah.)]
How 'bout we call it a draw? Pff! [Gah! Snow in his mouth--! It'd be kind of nice if it weren't so damned COLD. Once he's about halfway freed, he feels something hit his legs, leading him to yelp and flail about more.]
H-Hey, no fair! That's cheating! You little punk!