#anywho. how's y'all's day going.

[three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat]

We love trying to tell someone about something serious and then immediately undercutting it with a quippy remark!!

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.12 how you get the girl

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 12/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 11.3k

a/n. man the color scheme for this chapter is kinda giving BRAT lolol...i mean gojo IS brat. anywho, i don't have much to say at the beginning of this chapter but i do have a LOT to say at the end of it sooo see y'all at the bottom!! hope u enjoy. also BIG THANK YOU to @whereflowerswenttodie who beta read parts of this chapter for me n convinced me not to scrap it lol

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

11:03am you: hi! 11:03am you: good luck today 11:03am you: incase i don’t see you

11:05am Gojo Satoru: Why wouldn’t you? Aren’t you gonna be on the field for your newsletter shots?

11:07am you: i mean yes but idk where i’m gonna be stationed so 11:07am you: it might not be on UTokyo’s side of the field

11:08am Gojo Satoru: Okay then I’ll look for you before the game starts

11:10am you: no pls don’t. coach yaga thinks i distract you. i don’t want to get yelled at again. he scares me :(

11:12am Gojo Satoru: Haha you’re silly 11:13am Gojo Satoru: East side entrance at 2 11:13am Gojo Satoru: Be there

11:14am you: or be square?

11:15am Gojo Satoru: Yea whatever shape you wanna be in is fine cutie

It’s a bright sunny day outside, perfectly blue sky with a scattering of fluffy clouds seen outside the window of your shared room in your apartment, and you realize spring is fully here from the way birds chirp past the glass. You’re stuffing your camera case full of chilled Kodak film rolls, your last stash left, and it’s the last piece of equipment you pack before slinging the strap over your shoulder and heading out the door.

Mina had offered to give you a ride to the stadium since your car’s still at the shop, but you’re happy you opted for the bumpy bus ride and although you come close to low-grade concussions from the bang of your head to the window at every other speed bump, the music in your ears while someone else is operating a public transport vehicle helps you think creatively before shooting shots.

It was surprise enough that Mina of all people was going to this game, and when you questioned her about it in the morning, she looked at you like you were absurd to assume anyone from UTokyo wouldn’t be at this game, and sure enough, it’s all anyone on Instagram has been repping on their stories or talking about in the bustling minutes before lectures. Even Utahime was going to this game, and she hates all intercollegiate sports. You knew the game was a big deal, given the way Coach Yaga was yelled at via email by the Dean of UTokyo to make sure the team wins today because a multimillion dollar Nike sponsorship would be greenlit by the prospect (for some reason you were cc’d in an email chain among divisional higher-ups, but you weren’t opposed to snooping in on conversations that were entirely outside of your tax bracket).

It’s because it’s the second to last home game before the season ends, and apparently this has been statistically the best season the UTokyo D1 Men’s Soccer team has played since the new millenia. No pressure to the players on that fact, but failure wasn’t much of an option for them anymore. 

And you can feel the stakes the second you step inside the stadium. Packed would be an understatement, there were people flooding the aisles, overbooked for the sake of the university pocketing an extra buck no doubt, but spectators could care less since they were able to at least get in on the basis of that irresponsibility in the first place, despite the stadium’s capacity having long been reached before the pregame festivities even start. Banners and signs drape over railings with the school’s striking blue and golden colors, every single replay screen is lit up and brightly pixelated at every north, south, east, and west entrance for inclusive viewing. As you pass VIP security and make it into the lower field-level entry, the scattered chants from the crowd amplify in volume and you almost wince a little to yourself from the noise. The stadium felt like a living, breathing entity, pulsing with the collective heartbeat of everyone inside. 

You’ve never been more overstimulated in your life, except instead of finding it frightening, it was electrifying. And for once, you think you can understand what an athlete must feel when playing on their own home turf surrounded by those that are wholeheartedly rooting for them.

Hana is quick to spot you, panic clear across her face as she regards you with a couple pages with your assigned vantage points, a rushed briefing session, and then she’s darting down the sidelines to make sure equipment is set up appropriately where needed. She’s understaffed, given you told Utahime about Kai’s little intervention last week and she made a nasty point to the university (and possibly a handful of legal threats) and they relented in firing him. So now the three of you were down a photographer, and the extra work shows in the instructions she gave you as you skim the sheets. 

A glance at your phone tells you it’s close to 2pm, and your eyes take in the expanse of green on the field. UTokyo’s players practice kicking shots off to the right goal post, while YCU’s players practice shots off to the left. You can’t spot where Gojo is, but you faithfully head down to the East Side entrance like he asked you to. 

When you round the corner, you almost crash right into an Ichiko mascot, but swiftly dodge, and then you stop in your tracks when you see Gojo standing right at the concrete entrance. He’s leaning back against the adjacent wall, arms crossed at his chest, and he’s stretching his neck side to side with a creased brow, an intense look in his eyes, lost in serious thought, scanning the wall across from him like he’s mapping out plays in his head. 

When you approach him and catch the corner of his eyesight, he leans off the wall and flashes you one of his so extremely charmed to see you grins on reflex, and suddenly there’s nothing your senses seem to pick up on except him. Like everything else around you just disappears.

“Hey, you,” he says when he comes up to you, and you walk him like a dog back to a corner that’s tucked further away from noises and sights. You lean your back against the wall now, the coolness of concrete seeping through the fabric of your shirt, and he stands a step in front of you. Your hands toy with the strap of your camera.

“Are you ready to win today?” you ask him, and look off to the right into the flourishing seats that are still being filled to the brim, “clearly there’s no pressure.”

He breathes in deep, and releases it slowly, like there really was tension to relieve. “We’ve got no choice but to win.”

“Is that something Coach Yaga says to you guys often?” you ask him, because the man recited the same thing about five times in that email chain. “Also, apparently you take years off of his life.��� Another thing he recited about five times in that email chain.

Gojo only addresses what he wants to address, as per usual. “Yeah, it’s something he says to us often.” 

“So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

He looks at you puzzled, tilting his head to the side. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

It’s hard to assume that he didn’t have something to talk about with the intention of telling you to meet him here, because this is the same place you confessed to him a few weeks ago, and so is also the place he so painfully rejected you. But maybe he doesn’t think about these kinds of things as much as you do. “I see.”

His tongue pokes to his cheek as he studies your anticipating expression, and then he sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “What are we doing? I mean, I like you, and you like me too, at least I hope you still do. Why don’t we—…why don’t we just give it a go already? I don’t see how we can move forward if you won’t at least let me take you out on a date.”

Your hands stop fidgeting with your camera strap from his words, and you lick your lips, suddenly unable to keep eye contact with him so your gaze drifts down to his chest in front of you. His uniform is clean, no smudges of dirt or grass, just pure white fabric underneath heat-pressed blue and golden accents, and of course, that signature number 10. You’re sure he’s all you’ll ever think of when you see that number now for the rest of your life. 

You know when you want something so bad you don’t know what to do once you have it? Because it almost seems too good to be true? 

“I just wanted to let stuff between us breathe for a little bit,” you confess, “it’s just, it was a lot to deal with. Being around you when I thought you didn’t want me the way I wanted you. I don’t know if this is odd to say, and maybe I’m overthinking it, but I just feel like somewhere along the way, I kind of…forgot who you were for a little bit.” This kind of vulnerability would have you running away with your tail between your legs with anyone else, but not with him. Not after everything. 

His expression softens, melting away that confrontational energy he had earlier, and he nods slowly. He opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t seem to find words. The presence of them is there, though, you can feel them. But what good are his thoughts if not voiced? 

“I just wanted to spend a little bit of time getting to know you again, I guess.” You squeeze your arm in reassurance of yourself because he wasn’t giving it to you. You let out an awkward laugh. “I don’t really know what I’m saying right now, to be honest.”

You can tell he’s at a crossroads, and you think back to this week and his efforts to get you to open up to him again. You know how he feels right now, because it’s exactly how you felt when he rejected you. Like when someone is so close, yet so far, you can feel that they’re within arms reach but never truly. And they’re slipping away for some reason that you may never know, but all you can do is assume that it’s a fault of your own. You’re not really sure what he can do to make you feel secure about this whole thing anymore, and you can see the slight panic in his eyes when he realizes that too.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he tells you, rushed with a desperation entirely contrary to his words, “what’s a week or two when I want to spend a lot more of those with you anyways.” But he takes a deep breath, like he’s already mentally preparing himself for an agonizing wait in his head.

There’s a sound over the stadium speakers, something technical and sporty and goes entirely over your head in dismissal, but to Gojo it seems to have a different effect, as he’s suddenly attentive and stands up straighter, that focused expression on his face from earlier resurfacing. You realize he needs to get back to the field. 

“Can we continue this conversation after the game?” he asks you hastily, already turning towards the center of the stadium. And he adds an obligatory, “sorry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you quickly agree, suddenly feeling like you’re taking up his time. 

He gives you a small smile, unsure in its presentation but pure in its intention. But he can only take one step towards the field before you reach out and pinch the fabric of his jersey to keep him still. He feels the tug of it and fully faces you once again. 

“Um. Just a sec,” you say, “I have something to give you before your game.”

“Oh?” he looks at you with interest, “I fucking love things.” 

“You have to close your eyes though.”

“…what is the thing…” He squints at you with a what are you up to expression.

“Just close your eyes!” you snap at him.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” he holds his hands up in front of him in surrender, shaking his head to get his hair out of his face and then he closes his eyes. “You’re scary as hell sometimes. Excuse me for being cautious.”

You roll your eyes, useless because he doesn’t see it, and then take a step towards him. You cup his jaw with the palm of your hand, his cheek twitching slightly from the unexpected contact, and then you raise on your tiptoes to press your lips to his cheek. It’s short and sweet with the sound of a peck.

“For good luck,” you whisper, then you quickly lower yourself back onto your heels, take a step back and tuck some strands of hair behind your ear. The ground suddenly interests you.

He opens his eyes, blinking a few times with shock and his hand comes up to brush the tips of his fingers against the spot you kissed him, and then his gaze goes comically dazed when he reaches out to hold you. “Alright, c’mere you,” he says, closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he leans down to kiss you but you laugh and push his face away.

“No no no, only on the cheek for now,” you say with a small laugh.

He does nothing to restrain his frustrated groan. “You can’t do something that cute and then expect me to be chill about it.”

“If you win, then, maybe I’ll let you kiss me for real.”

“Maybe?”

“Yes. Maybe.”

He’s close, towering over you near this bustling east side entrance that he seems to like so much, and his eyes drop to your lips. “Alright. I like those odds.” 

You give him a smile and slip away from him to get back towards the field, and you feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

The pregame events are a blur, with blaring music accompanied by the sounds of the sports announcers clipping across the speakers, finally quieted down in time for the players to line up on the field for the national anthem which was then followed by UTokyo’s alma mater. 

You’re stationed on the same side of the field as Minato, UTokyo’s side, while Hana is covering the sidelines of the opposite end with the opponents goal post. Minato’s filling up a cup of Gatorade for himself at the athlete’s station and then he comes back around to find you.

“Are you ready to take your shots? I see Hana wanted you to shoot on film today,” he says to you as he sloshes around Glacier Freeze in a flimsy plastic cup.

You twist your aperture dial with your thumb. “Yesss, all set. I’ll try to keep up.” 

He nods at you in approval.

The atmosphere feels nerve wracking. Something felt different about this game, the stakes feeling high. Well, of course they’re high, because if they lose today then they’re out of the tournament. But the stakes feel high for other reasons too, an energy you can pick up on but can’t quite discern. 

Your eyes drift across the field where you can see a referee placing a ball at the center of the field. Off to the right, you can see Gojo standing with a few of his other teammates, including Geto, Nanami, and Choso, and they’re all gesticulating to various corners of the field as they discuss what you can only imagine have to do with their plays for today. And you realize— it’s their last college soccer season. Their second-to-last official home match before the championship, and for those of them that haven’t qualified for the national league, it may be their second-to-last match of this caliber for the rest of their lives. One of the final chances that they have to prove something of themselves. The determination was palpable. 

The chief referee’s whistle cuts through the air with three short chirps, and that gathers the attention of all the players on the field. UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kickoff, and YCU’s players choose to attack the left side goal.

Your stomach churns with anticipation, the crowd hushing too as all the players take their places on the field. If you feel nervous, you can only imagine how the athletes feel. There’s a rhythm that you’ve learned over the past couple of months getting to know the sport, where players stretch out their necks and kick out their feet and take subtle deep breaths as they survey the stands. Idle moments before the start of the match where they have no choice but to look forward and only forward, so they take a moment to stay in the present for as long as they can gather. You’ve never been much of a sports spectator, and perhaps you’ve only recently had some personal interest in the team, but you realize you feel pride in your school as you stand behind chalk sideline and see UTokyo’s colors scattered across the field in uniform. And fuck, you wanted them to win. You wanted them to win with fierceness and wrath, and it’s a desire you share with the crowd. 

Gojo spends a minute talking to the referee before the black and white striped man pats him high on the back in the good sport and urges him towards the center of the field. He lifts his foot up onto the ball, rolling it back and forth underneath the spikes of his cleat, and you can see it in his eyes, even from all the way over here, that he seems to have different ideas in mind for this game too. High stakes. Pre-determined, set with will, evident in the clench of his jaw and the concentrated furrow of his brow as he surveys the field with his eyes, and you’re lost in the sight for what feels like forever because you can hardly register the chirp of the ref’s whistle. 

And then the kickoff starts. 

The ball is tapped to Geto to start the play, and the first few minutes were intense as the ball was passed back and forth between UTokyo’s players, placing pressure on YCU’s defense as they inched closer and closer towards the goal. A pass between UTokyo’s #4 was intercepted by YCU and the ball was rushed down towards the left side, the crowd’s horror evident in the uproar as they raise to their feet in fearful anticipation, and with ruthless offense, YCU’s forward takes a clear sink shot towards the goal, and the crowd holds their breath before they watch Choso lunge for it in air, gloved hands firmly grabbing the ball and then pulling it to his chest with a possessiveness you can only expect to see from a skilled goalie, before he crashes down into the ground and the crowd releases relief in the form of rowdy roars.

Ten minutes in, with everyone on their toes, each team tested each other’s defenses. UTokyo were known for stellar offense, especially within the past few years with players like Gojo Satoru and Takuma Ino joining the league as powerful forwards, but UTokyo’s overall offense was still statistically second to none other than YCU. And the pressure YCU was putting on UTokyo’s defense was wearisome to say the least. You glance to see Nanami, who is UTokyo’s best defensive player, huffing and puffing as he stands between two light-footed YCU players in an attempt to guard, and fails an attempt to steal the ball before it gets to the feet of YCU’s striker #6, passed in a split second off to his teammate, with a fake so seamless that it has Choso just a couple inches away from touching the ball before it’s sent flying into the net. 

The noises from the crowd are still loud, but dampened in spirit. 

With the referees hand signal up in the air, the current score is confirmed. 0-1, YCU. 

Coach Yaga calls for a sub, in which he switches Nanami out for who you believe is a 2nd-year defensive player name Yuta you’ve seen around practice with a promising statistical record for interceptions, and you watch as Nanami takes the bench before he swipes the sweat off his face in exhaustion. God. Just fifteen minutes into the match, and YCU already has UTokyo’s defense winded from play. 

You bring your camera up to your face, forgetting for a moment that there was still a job to do here, and you position the direction of the lens towards the center of the field, where Gojo takes his place at the ball once more. Yuta briefly passes by him, signaling some play to him by holding up a number three, likely something Coach Yaga asked him to pass on to Gojo, and you see him briefly nod, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes slowly and pulls his jersey up to wipe at the sweat at his forehead. 

The referee chirps the whistle, Gojo taps the ball to Yuta, and the play starts. 

YCU immediately puts pressure on UTokyo’s offensive play once more, with eager movements to steal the ball, but it’s passed between UTokyo’s players with ease, more practiced and more sure. The kind of play that you and the rest of the school was used to seeing from them. However, Geto loses the ball on a left-back pass, but right when YCU makes attempts to cover field in a long-shot kick towards the left, Yuta intercepts the ball and swiftly passes it to Gojo.

The crowd immediately rises to their feet in anticipation, watching as Gojo shuffles the ball down the field, dangerously close to off-field boundaries, a signature tactic he uses because he knows there’s not a single player in the league that can match him in precision and control to keep the ball in-field on a steal, and he swiftly passes it towards Geto with a side-swept kick, beelining down towards the goal post, in perfect time for Geto pass-back to meet his feet and when Gojo was this close to a net, there was no stopping him. 

He draws his right foot back, and explosively kicks the ball forward, chipping the grass under it in the motion, and it’s sent flying towards the goal, and then threaded past the goalie right to the back of the net. The cheers that erupt across the stadium rumble the ground beneath you. 

1-1, even match.

UTokyo spends no time celebrating, other than a few pats to Gojo’s back as he nods in acknowledgement, no emotion on his face other than pure concentration and greed. The greed to win, like a righteous sin. He stretches his neck out, panting slightly as he takes his place towards the right side of the field and the referee chirps his whistle to signal YCU to start the kickoff.

They quickly make attempts in moving the ball towards their scoring-end of the field, but face push-back from UTokyo’s defense, unable to make it much further past the midfield line, and you bring your camera up to take a snap of Gojo, who you see is still standing off to the right side of the field. But when you position it and peer through the viewfinder, that space he once stood at was empty. You pull your camera down, and blink at the sight, and then the crowd is picking up in volume once more.

Gojo sprints down the flank, cutting past every defender, and moves towards YCU’s attacking goal, which was a shocking place to be for a center forward, but you could feel his desire and determination to steal this back-and-forth ball, and succeeds when YCU makes an open pass, thinking they were in the clear, only to have Gojo sneak in at the last moment and get the ball at his feet. 

The play moves by in a flash, a blur that you or anyone else in the stadium could hardly keep up with it, movements so fast you were shocked a human being was capable of even running that far in such a short amount of time, and in an almost embarrassingly easy play, Gojo makes a fool out of YCU’s defenders as he slips the ball through the legs of his last obstacle before he struck it with sharp precision, sending it soaring to the corner of the goal, past the outstretched arms of the goalie, and into the net. 

2-1, UTokyo.

It was electrifying, the feeling that strikes through the stadium, one that reaches you in your own blood. You’re shocked, standing here, after witnessing Gojo score two goals within the matter of minutes, against one of the top three teams in the league. It’s a shock that reaches everyone, including Coach Yaga who’s standing about ten feet down the line from you, his arms crossed, and you see his eyes for the first time as he takes his sunglasses off to get a better look at what he’s seeing.

You trail his sight, dragging your gaze across the field until it lands at Gojo, who is barely acknowledging the encouraging pats and shakes and goodhearted shoves that his teammates were giving him, because he was focused. It might sound crazy to say, but you swear his eyes looked like a fiercer shade of blue, like they were lit up, and you’re insanely glad you’re not one of YCU’s defensive players at the moment because you feel fearful of him even just standing on the sidelines. 

Your gaze trails back to Coach Yaga, who slowly puts his sunglasses back on but his brows are narrowed tightly as he crosses his arms over his chest tightly.

The “athletic zone”... You’ve heard of it before. A state of pure focus, of peak performance, where an athlete experiences optimal concentration and a sense of effortless control over their actions. In which they perform at their highest level, where time slows down, any and all distractions fade away, and they’re completely immersed in their sport at hand. At the task at hand.

Coach Yaga seems to pick up on the fact that Gojo was on the edge of tapping into that state. 

YCU makes a substitution, and you watch in anticipation as they begin the kickoff. 

There’s fire in their veins with desperation to even out the score once more, rushing the ball down the off-field line, one of their center forwards mimicking Gojo’s signature attack pattern, and Yuta struggles to keep up with the expert dribbling of a fourth-year player with more experience on him, so much so to where he completely leaves the ball unguarded and there’s an open shot, but Geto places pressure at the last moment, in a fierce battle for the ball, before YCU’s center forward loses the ball over the goal line. 

Choso picks the ball up, tapping on it harshly a few times as he surveys his eyes down the field, and all offensive players begin to shuffle towards their attacking goal in anticipation for the goal kick. He signals his hand down and then holds up two fingers in the air before placing the ball down on the six-yard box. He tightens the strap of one of his gloves, eyes squinting, and you follow his gaze down to a part of the field where you note UTokyo’s best aerial players are located and being guarded by YCU’s defense. And with complete trust in his team, that’s exactly where he kicks the ball. 

Geto makes first contact with the ball, his chest colliding with two other YCU players as his head comes out on top and he headbutts the ball closer towards the inner field, and Gojo immediately gains access to it with a bounce of his knee. The crowd holds their breath, fear that they’ll lose the ball to a steal in the split second it spends floating in the air, but Gojo urges it forward with a bounce off of his chest and then rushes it straight down towards the goal post. 

You wonder what sight he sees right now. Where you’re dead center, at no angle, lunging towards the sight of an open goal with a sole goalie standing in the center, anticipating to block your shot, and three defenders on your tail. There’s no room for error, no time to think, only instincts that you cultivate in the last leading milliseconds. They say that, in sports, athletes channel one hundred hours of practice in just a brief second on the field. A split second success that was years in the making. You can’t even imagine possessing that level of perfection in your body, or possessing that level of confidence that you can follow through with it in a moment as dire as this.

It was unreal, the way Gojo fades away from all the defenders, and faces no fear when confronted with the sight of the goalie in front of him while drawing his foot back to kick the ball. You lift your camera up at the last second, no time to think about aperture or ISO, just like he had no time to second-doubt a single twitch in his muscles, and his foot makes contact with the ball so harshly that you can hear the explosive sound even among the delirious cheers from the crowd, before he hook, line, and sinks it straight past the goalie’s head, rushing by like a scarcely deflected bullet, and into the net behind him. 

3-1, UTokyo.

The whole stadium is momentarily speechless, all players and referees and recruiters and reporters and coaches and employees alike, before the most deafening cheers you’ve ever heard in your life scatter across the stands.

There’s a moment of brief reprieve, where the players can catch their breath while YCU makes yet another substitution, as if they’re just trial-and-erroring it at this point, and the cheers in the stadiums remain idle as you can’t tear your gaze away from Gojo.

It’s one of those moments where you realize that someone who you thought was so familiar to you was actually someone you hardly knew at all. You knew he was a talented soccer player, everyone on campus knows it, potentially one of the best to ever grace the league, and the amount of times you passively watched his plays on a lecture hall projector screen as your professor enthusiastically broke them down during class, even before you met him, was good enough for you to realize that he was insane, a one-in-a-million, a talent you cannot replicate, one you have by divinity. One you were born with. 

And yet, somehow, getting to know him these past couple of months, he just felt so human. For someone so seemingly beyond you, he felt so…close? In those moments where it was just the two of you, it was hard to imagine that he was capable of such greatness, and that so many people were rooting for him with wholehearted tears in their eyes and cheers from their hearts, because most of the time, when he was with you, he was just a dorky idiot. You find that your heart is beating fast in your chest, that feeling of being unsure of what to do with what you’ve been wanting resurfacing powerfully. 

“This is insane,” you hear Minato say from beside you and you jump a little from your thoughts being interrupted.

You twiddle with your camera straps. “I know…almost done with the first half and we’re up 3-1…I thought YCU are number one in offense for the league?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, yes, that is insane too. But what’s even more insane is that three of the goals so far have been scored by one player.” He tips his chin towards the right sight of the field and you trail his line of sight. “By Gojo Satoru.”

Your brow furrows as you watch Gojo, his hands on his hips and his mouth slightly open as he indulges in a few shallow breaths to gain energy while YCU prepares for kickoff. Three goals, by just one player. Your eyes widen when you realize that is insane, especially for a D1 semi-final qualifying match.

“You know what the divisional record is for most goals scored by a single player during a championship match, y/n?” Minato asks you as he lifts his camera up to take a picture of the area Gojo was standing in. 

You shake your head and wait for his response.

He drops his camera down and glances at the photo on his screen. “Four. During Keio Uni vs. Osaka Uni, near the beginning of the tournament back in 1997 by Osaka’s center forward number 24, Yuji Nakazawa. Meaning no one’s managed to beat that record since the new millenia, for a couple decades. Although a few players came close.”

You blink at him, and Minato is jerking his chin over in the direction of Gojo again.

“I think he’s trying to beat the record.”

You can only widen your eyes at Minato in realization, and then the chirp of the referee’s whistle draws everyone’s attention back to the field. 

The sports announcers go wild on the speakers, the crowd raving all the same, standing to their feet like the team just won the championship match.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! We are watching HISTORY in the making!! Gojo Satoru, UTokyo’s very own 3-year consecutive MVP, has scored his 34th goal of the season, highest of any player in this year’s season so far, and is now on the road to beat the league’s long-standing record for most goals scored by a single player in a championship match since 1997!!” And the crowd roars even louder as you stare out at the field in awe.

YCU starts the kickoff following the prompt short chirp of the referee’s whistle, and with two minutes remaining on the clock for the first half, make desperate attempts to book it down the field towards their attacking goal, one of their midfielders making a clumsy attempt to strike the ball to the net in the final minutes of the half, and Choso easily catches it in his arms, right before the buzzer of the timer sounds, and the match moves into halftime. 

All of UTokyo’s players immediately flock towards Gojo in sportful glee, finally having a chance to surround him and harass him with harsh pats on his back and ruffles of his hair for his play in the first half. Choso even puts him in a headlock because they all don’t know what else to do with their excitement and adrenaline rushing through their bodies. Their win for today was basically confirmed with the way he was playing. 

You catch a glimpse of him through the crowd of people, and he has a boyish grin on his face, reveling in the embarrassing amount of attention from his teammates, that focused look from before dissolving into his normal self again. But you can see through him, as well enough as you’ve learned to at least, and you can tell he’s not satisfied. He’s thinking it’s not enough. There’s still more to be done, and it’s not time to celebrate yet. 

His eyes scan down the sideline until they find you. 

Your heart jumps a second in your chest. He stands up straighter, despite his teammates still clinging to him, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes when your eyes meet. 

Cheerleaders take their place out onto the field, performing their numbers with loud music blaring, and the recruiters seated at their white tables get up to roam across the sidelines in discussion with referees and with Coach Yaga and with whatever players they can sink their greedy teeth into, as well as sneak at refreshments while they’re at it. You can see off to the right that Hana has reunited with Minato and she’s showing him some of the shots she took over at the opponent's side. 

UTokyo’s players start to make their way to the benches to grab for towels and drinks of water and to sprawl across in rest, and you hear loud familiar laughter approaching as you watch the players sprawl across the benches, so you avert your eyes towards the source of the sound. 

You see Gojo approaching the benches, two of his teammates slung with their arms around him in some type of adrenaline-drunken glee as they talk dramatically and theatrically which Gojo entertains with his own drunk-off-of-adrenaline glee. And you raise an eyebrow at his demeanor when he makes eye contact with you.

“There’s my freaky little photographer,” he says, and he’s standing up straight and—wait, is he puffing his chest out as he makes his way towards you? Oh for fucks sake.

Gojo has always been confident around you, for as long as you can remember, but in the fair few moments he’s been cocky, he’s been a menace. And you can only assume the testosterone-induced high of being on the verge of breaking a league record in front of the entire school then subsequently getting homiesexually praised by his teammates for the better part of the past five minutes, not to mention with the crowd and the reporters feeding his ego with a spoon across the speakers, he’s been transformed into the final boss of cocky.

His teammates surround you too, their hands on their hips as they assess you and Gojo when he meanders right up to you, arms held out to hug you, a sleazy sight you’ve seen probably six times this week, and you feel a rush of warmth in your cheeks as you place a hand on his chest to keep him away.

“You’re sweaty and gross, please stay away from me,” you reprimand him, “this is an expensive lens that is not humidity-proof.” 

“Hey, you’re the girl that Kentaro socked in the face with a ball the other day at practice, right?” one of his teammates asks, leaning in towards you to take a closer look at your face.

“Oh yeahhh, ‘cause Satoru wasn’t paying attention,” another one of his teammates chimes in teasingly, hardly heard over the loud remix playing in the background as the cheerleaders continue to perform on the field. 

You shrink a little from where you stand. Gojo’s got an irritated look on his face and he’s shrugging his teammate’s elbow off of his shoulder.

“I really hope you’re getting my good angles,” his teammate to the left comments before winking at you, and you purse your lips together. 

The one on the right leans in too, looking at your cheek with an assessing look in his eye. “At least it didn’t leave a scar on your cute face—”

Gojo shoves the both of them back and away from you by elbowing them in the chest, and they make deep eugh noises before stepping away and rubbing at their sternums with pouts on their faces.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he grumbles, “she’s mine.”

Your cheeks flush slightly with warmth at the attention, and you watch as his teammates scurry away to adhere to some social hierarchy Gojo seems to possess over them.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yours?”

“Yes. Eventually. Whatever, did you see me out there?” he turns his torso towards the field and points behind himself with his thumb, “when I—”

“Oh god, you know what’s soooooooooo super sexy to me?” you interrupt him. “When guys are humble.”

“Oh c’monnn,” he curls his arm around your waist and pulls you to him, to where you stumble a little on grass and he holds you when you fall into him with more clumsiness than grace. “Tell me you aren’t at least impressed by me.”

You pout, because you are, and you’d really like to give him some reassurance and validation, but for some reason his cocky attitude is setting you off. “Satoru,” you sigh, wiggling a little in his hug, but he holds you tighter, “I’m working right now. Cut it out.”

He lets go of you at that, sober enough from the adrenaline to realize you’re being serious, but he steps into your space so only you can hear him. “What? Are you embarrassed?”

“Of what?” Your face twists with confusion.

“Of me. Are you embarrassed of me?” he asks.

“No. Why would I be embarrassed of you?” you ask with sharpness.

“I don’t know, just, sometimes I feel like you’re always annoyed by me,” he says with a sigh. “It’s like, you’re really sweet sometimes, and then kinda rude out of nowhere, and it’s sort of messing with my head.”

You pout. “You were messing with my head for weeks.”

“And I’m sorry about that,” he quickly interjects, like he already knew you were brewing up that counterargument, “but you don’t have to act like you’re all disinterested and indifferent just to get back at me for it.” He places his hands on his hips and wipes his temple on the round part of his shoulder when he feels a drop of sweat trickle down from his hairline. “You don’t have to act embarrassed around me either.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” you deny, and your cheeks feel hot, and for some reason you feel angry. “In fact, I’m the one that should be asking you that question. Because I still very clearly remember that time you said I was just someone you know in front of your friends.”

He groans and tilts his head back with frustration. “Can you just let that go? Things have changed between us since then. Move on.” 

“You kissed me and then pretended I was just a stranger to you in front of your friends,” you grit as you cross your arms. “That’s the level of sincerity that I know from you, Satoru.”

“Oh, okay, so there’s nothing else I’ve done that shows you that I’m serious about you?” he asks rhetorically with incredulity, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief.

No. That’s not true, not true at all. But he’s pissed you off now and so all logic was to the wind. “Doesn’t matter. If you’re not embarassed of me, and if you’re really serious about me this time, then fucking prove it.” You’re speaking out of spite, and you fear you’ve just set him off too.

“Fine,” he says, and he grabs the microphone straight out from a passing reporter’s hand, replacing it with a gatorade bottle. The reporter stares at the bottle he’s now holding with confusion. “I will.”

“W-Wait—” you squeak out, feeling the hair at the back of your neck bristle in anticipation and a shiver gets sent down your spine. The cheerleaders are making their way off the field at the end of their routine, and you can hear the thumps across the loud boisterous speakers when Gojo whacks his palm to the microphone to make sure the thing was on before he jogs to the center of the field.

The crowd is already cheering, ecstatic to see the afternoon's star player and pride & joy of their school, and Gojo takes a moment to soak in all the glory in comical appreciation with bowing towards all 360 degree angles of the stadium.

“Uhhh,” you hear Choso from beside you, who’s strapping his thick goalie gloves tightly to his wrists, “Why the fuck does Satoru have a microphone while standing in the middle of the field.”

“It can’t be for any publicly decent reason,” Geto muses.

All you can do is watch.

“Hi, uh,” Gojo starts, static blaring slightly across the speakers and the crowd winces with him, “sorry. I’m Satoru, Gojo Satoru, you might know me from—uh, the game you’ve been watching?”

Cheers all around, because as if a single person wouldn’t know who he is. The stands were rowdy and most definitely drunk off of sidestep beers the stadium has been serving all afternoon long. 

Gojo is about to continue speaking, when he catches sight of the table of recruiters in the corner of his eye and he turns to face them out of respect. “Oh, yeah, uh, number 10,” he tugs his jersey up at the shoulder to stretch out the fabric, the 1 and the 0 flattened in view, “division player ID 233-997. Coach Yaga keeps my business cards in his purse if you want one.”

“SAAAAATTOOORRUUUU!!!!!” you hear Coach Yaga yell from somewhere in the distance.

“Anywho,” Gojo continues, and the music dims slightly, so he glances at the stop clock on the screen, which shows him he’s got roughly five minutes left to pull off whatever idiocracy he had in mind before the second half of the game starts. “Just here to say that there’s this girl I really like.”

The crowd gets louder, almost deafening, and sonically mostly feminine in (delusional) hope he’s gonna name call one of them.

Gojo’s voice is crisp and clear through the speakers as he clarifies. “She’s standing over there,” he says as he nonchalantly points to your exact latitude and longitudinal direction, “with the big camera slung around her neck that looks like it could pull her down to the center of the earth. Yeah. She’s super cute and I really like talking to her.”

“Uh-oh,” Geto murmurs from beside you, and you glance at him to try to get a read on the situation but you can’t.

Gojo starts to pace across the center of the field now, like he’s working the crowd. “But get this—she thinks I’m not fuckin’ serious about her!!!”

The crowd groans with him in unison. Yep, most certainly drunk. Or high off of glee. Either way, he’s playing them like a violin.

“Huh?” Gojo’s voice sounds distant now, away from the mic, and you can see on the large pixelated screen that he’s being interrupted by someone that looks like one of the videographers, “oh, what’s that? This is being broadcasted? Uh-huh. Oh. I’m not allowed to cuss? Oh fuck, okay. Er— shit, okay. Wait—shoot, okay.”

Choso’s smirk is heard from beside you, and you catch Geto and Nanami shaking their heads in your periphery.

“LIKE I SAID,” Gojo continues into the mic, “the girl I like thinks I’m just messing around, so. Uh. To show her that I’m serious about her, I’m gonna…” He looks up at the sky to ponder, and you can hear people shouting all sorts of suggestions of nonsense from the crowd. And instead of saying proclaim my undying affection for her through a romantic soliloquy straight from my heart in the presence of the entire school, he says—“I’m gonna strip. Yes. Down to my tighty whities, Imma strip.”

H–

Huh?!?!?

You don’t even have time to be horrified or scared, you’re just bewildered beyond belief that that’s what he came up with.

What the fuck kind of reassurance did you ask for. And what the fuck kind of reassurance were you about to get?

The crowd goes wild, it’s no surprise to say everyone and their mothers wants to see him naked, even the straight dudes would dig it for the gym inspo. And he points straight to you, sleazy look on his face and you’re going to ignore the fact that he just winked at you too as he crosses his arms to hold the hem of his jersey and pulls it up over his head in the most raunchy and slutty way a man can take his shirt off.

The music manager is quick with the bit, and is most definitely a fellow Gen Z college student, because Justin Timberlake’s SexyBack (ft. Timbaland) starts playing across the speakers and the crowd goes ballistic.

“Ayo why’s Satoru Magic Mike’ing the field right now?” one of his other teammates calls out through a mouthful of protein bar, “What the fuck did I miss?”

The cameraman does God’s work in a hella zoom-in of Gojo’s sweat glistened abs, then pans up the naked expanse of the perfect taut skin across his chest, and you can’t help but stare even among all your horror. It’s like when a male bird embarrasses the fuck outta himself to attract a female bird sitting on a perch, except instead of within the context of a NatGeo documentary, this was your real life. Everyone wants him, but he’s making a fool out of himself for you. 

He pretends to stretch his arms up into the air, a cover-up to flex his biceps, and then he kicks his cleats off, and the socks come off too. Entirely unnecessary, as showing one's ankles is simply too slutty, but alas he’s a whore. And when his thumbs dip into the waistband of his shorts, and there’s anticipating screeching from the crowd, he finally gets chased by security. 

Except he’s an intercollegiate D1 athlete, why the fuck wouldn’t he be able to outrun a bunch of dudes in black?

The camerawork on him is phenomenal as he runs across the sidelines of the field, eliciting a wave down the bleachers. So good in fact that you’re pretty sure the camera man could shoot for the Olympic track and field, with the way the stadium’s got a clear sight of Gojo mouthing the lyrics Them other fuckers don’t know how to act from the song still blaring with satirical rage on his face as he makes a fool of the men chasing him around the perimeter of the field.

And then he does it, drops his shorts, discards them with a kick, and he’s down to his tighty whities as promised. Cameraman has got to be displaying some previously undiscovered level of talent as he zeroes in on a shot of said tighty whities, with Gojo’s—forgive me, I need to be crass—huge bulge prominent in Big Dick Energy fashion except his tighty whities have little red hearts in rows across the fabric so do with that duality what you will.

He’s outrun security with a steady grin on his face as he eats up the drunken crowd’s cheers and riots and roars and you feel like you’re the only sane person in this stadium, or maybe you’re just not used to the fanatics of a college sports crowd. You peep the men in black trailed all the way on the left side of the field where they abandoned their pursuit of Gojo.

He taps imaginary pockets at his thighs, very muscular thighs you take indulgence in noticing, as if he expected to find something there, and he looks around when he doesn’t. He shrugs and grabs the microphone of the next passing sports commentator he spots, and then he makes his way back to you.

His breathing is a little shallow, and he inhales deep to catch his breath. “Baby.” The crowd SCREAMS at the way he purrs the word into the mic. “Will you do me the honor,” he’s huffing and puffing, heard across blaring speakers, “of being my lawfully wedded girlfriend?” And then he holds the mic to your lips.

“W-Wha—” you stutter, and there’s chanting across the crowd with words that barely make sense until you finally realize they’ve started to yell say yes! say yes! say yes! “Oh my gosh, okay, yes, fine, now please, for the love of god, put some freaking clothes on!”

The crowd goes wild with cheerful glees, and Gojo shoots fists up in the air in celebration as he runs all the way towards the center of the field with high knees, and you’re gawking at the sight, before he falls backward onto the grass and makes delirious snow angels on the ground. You see Coach Yaga’s vein popping in his neck from pure agitation as he storms off towards the center of the field to knock some sense into Gojo, but you know that Coach Yaga can’t kick him out, because they still have a game to win. The perks of being the most valued player in the league is getting to act like an absolutely insane idiot because you know they still need you in the end to bring it home.

You glance to the right, seeing his teammates nodding slowly then getting back to wrapping athletic tape around ankles and stretching out shoulders, with immediate acceptance of his actions like it wasn’t even out of character for him to do. And you realize again that you don’t know Gojo as well as you think you do.

And then the halftime timer is up.

You see Gojo approach the benches in a quick jog, squeezing some water into his mouth with his green gatorade squirt bottle, and when your eyes flit up to the screens on all four entrances, you see that the cameramen are still all focused on him accompanied by the continued buzz of conversation among the crowd following his public spectacle. But he seems to already be past any semblance of embarrassment as he takes the attention with ease, before he glances up to make eye contact with you and then lightly jogs right up to you.

“Did that prove to you that I’m not embarrassed of you?” he asks you, cocking a brow with a smug look on his face as he gets all up in your personal space. 

“I don’t know, but I’m certainly thoroughly and expeditiously embarrassed of you now,” you say, cheeks feeling flush when he leans forward so he can make eye contact with you at eye level. “I’ll have to move to a different country.”

His grin is relaxed. “Yeah well you asked for it.”

“Maybe. But I underestimated what a lunatic you are.”

“You’re my girlfriend now, you’ve gotta get used to it.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. “Satoru–”

“Tomorrow,” he cuts you off, “Hinode pier. I’ll pick you up at six. It’s a date, so wear something cute. And preferably easy to take off.” And then he’s attentive to the chirp of the referee’s whistle in the air before jogging backwards towards the feel and eventually turns on his heel towards the field while you’re left with warm cheeks and a heart that felt like it was moving at a mile a minute.

The timer for the second half refreshes on the screen while you loosely hold your camera in your shaking hands. It occurs to you that you haven’t taken a single photo of him before the start of the kickoff, and so you bring the piece of consolidated metal up to your eyes, peering through the viewfinder and focusing it on the center of the field. And there he was. Your muse.

Gojo lets out a breath, which you can see even from here that it’s shaky and staggered with resistance, and he lifts his jersey up to swipe at the sweat trickling down his face as he eyes the ball underneath YCU’s player’s foot just prior to the start of the second half. There it was—that look again of pure focus. 

3-1, forty-five minutes on the clock. And the referee chirps the whistle to start the second half.

It’s immediately evident that YCU has returned to the field following halftime with renewed energy, pressing high down the flank relentlessly past UTokyo’s defense, so fast it was hard for anybody to even keep a steady eye on the ball with the fluidity of their passes. The persistence pays off in the fake double-pass that slips past Geto’s feet, a moment of hesitation in the broken flow of UTokyo’s defense, and one of YCU’s strikers has the perfect line of shot towards the goal before digging his foot under the ball and sending it flying towards the corner of the goal post, scoring themselves a goal within just the first five minutes of play.

3-2.

The pressure mounts at the next kickoff, and with about seven minutes of solid play, with back-and-forth passes, multiple attempts at both goal posts to no avail on either side, it was clear that exhaustion was bustling in the veins of all the players.

One of YCU’s offensive players seems to capitalize on this, jumping on a defensive lapse of a pass Nanami attempted to make towards Yuta, and the ball is swiftly stolen then raced back towards the goal post. Choso prepared himself at the line, light on his feet paired with a solid stance, but in a millisecond of a moment, YCU’s offense unexpectedly passes the ball to a player racing up the midfield, and the player chips the ball neatly into the exposed corner of the goal despite Choso’s attempt to lunge for it in mid air.

Equalized, 3-3 game, momentary shock across the players’ faces, and the crowd bustles with something that sounds less like glee and more life fear. YCU was prepared to live up to and hold onto their title as the league’s number one offense, and as Minato explained to you during your time working in this job, an offensive team isn’t good at scoring goals, but rather exceptional at breaking down the other team’s defense.

Your eyes zero in on Geto, who stands in the center of the field for kickoff, and he’s huffing and puffing. He's the lead of defense for the team, and you can only imagine the level of pressure he feels right now. He glances around to his players, over to Nanami who seemed to share the same level of exhaustion, and then he glances towards Gojo who stood in front of him off to the right. Except you notice that Gojo looks relaxed, albeit still exhausted, but there’s a composed expression on his face even in the moment of heightened stakes. With locked eyes, Geto nods at Gojo and raises two fingers up into the air to signal a play, of which Gojo seems to respond to by closing more distance between him and the goal post prior to the kickoff, positioning himself almost directly in front of it, to which YCU’s defense immediately begin to guard him in a tight radius. 

The kickoff begins, with Geto making a few passbacks with Nanami as they close distance towards the field before passing it off to UTokyo’s string of offense and then receding back to their defending goal. UTokyo continues to close distance, raising stakes for YCU as their defense begins to falter under pressure, and the ball gets passed to Gojo, who only keeps it in possession for less than three seconds before he passes it back to Yuuji, a risky decision to make in the second half of a semifinal match, but the first-year swiftly unleashes a powerful shot that rockets past YCU’s goalkeeper, up towards the corner, except–

It bounces off the metal of the goal post, shot off with projectile speed back towards the center of the field, but with razor-sharp reflexes, Gojo headbutts the ball in air, twists his torso and strikes the ball with his foot past a dumbfounded goalie who can’t even move an inch to guard the ball that he already knew was going to sink right into the goal, and that’s exactly what it does. 

The stadium erupts with the momentum.

4-3, UTokyo. 

It was a sweet moment, one you manage to capture on camera of Gojo running up to Yuuji and ruffling his hair in reassurance, despite the missed goal. Your heart feels warm in your chest, feeling your own sense of melancholy that this was one of the last times they’ll ever get to play together on a team. 

Your eyes widen when you glance at the scoreboard, realizing that he’s tied. Gojo is tied for the most goals scored during a championship match. There were less than three minutes left on the clock. UTokyo either preserves their lead, or they risk moving into overtime, which, judging by the exhaustion on the UTokyo players’ faces in the wake of YCU’s relentless offense this entire game, moving into overtime would be a hefty, hefty risk. 

YCU’s center forward takes his place in the center of the field, fire evident in his eyes as he glances across the field. YCU are light on their feet, channeling everything in their bodies into these last moments of the game as they prepare to start the kickoff. You glance across UTokyo’s players, and although they look spent, there was a resolute look to all of them. It wasn’t the time to give up or feel at ease even near the end of this grueling battle. Now was the time to play. 

The referee chirped his whistle, and the kickoff began.

YCU immediately presses hard, as all their other plays have been all game, in their desperation to score. You can already see UTokyo’s midfielders move sluggishly in comparison to YCU’s offense, a drag to their feet as YCU pushes past the first layer of defense towards their attacking goal. Geto takes an aggressive approach, making moves to steal the ball while Nanami and Yuta guarded both flanks, and there was a relentless pass-off happening that ate up more than a minute of the remaining time.

Nanami succeeds in stealing the ball, but immediately loses it under his feet by a YCU midfielder, who makes a broad pass down the sidelines to YCU’s star forward who then powerfully kicks the ball towards the unguarded area of their goal, a dangerous shot that was clear towards the crossbar and Choso makes a leap for it, high into the air, his glove brushing against the ball, the entire crowd holding their breath in anticipation–

And the ball lands in the net. 

4-4, tied game. With one minute and seventeen seconds left on the clock. 

There was no time wasted in getting back to center field. No time spent dwelling in the horrific roars of the crowd as they watch with anxiety and fear. No time spent to process or consider or signal any plays. Not even a single second used to catch breath. When there is this much at stake, an athlete thrives on momentum. 

To your surprise, Gojo isn’t the one that takes place at the center of the field to start the kickoff. Yuta stands there instead, and you notice his eyes are erratic as he surveys all corners of the field. 

The referee chirps his whistle. 

Yuta immediately passes it off to the side to UTokyo’s midfielder, who curls it towards their attacking goal with a swift pass to Ino, who closes distance towards the goal, but one of YCU’s defender slips in, undoing any progress they had made in their offense by stealing the ball and sending it back towards mid-field. Forty-three seconds. The crowd’s roars heightened as YCU continued to push forward, thirty yards now from scoring, and UTokyo’s defense was desperate to stop them but their momentum was cracking in the wake of their exhaustion. 

It was a moment you don’t think you could ever fully or truly recall, one that you wish you had focused all your energy and attention to so that you could commit it to memory for the rest of your life. The image of Gojo pushing all the way to ten yards before their defending goal, a place where no center forward should really be at in a game like this, but it was exactly what their defense needed. It was exactly what the team needed. It was exactly what the school needed. For the ball to be in his possession.

With twenty-two seconds left on the clock, he steals the ball from right under YCU’s offensive feet, and then charges towards the opposite side of the field. The crowd rises to their feet, thunderous roaring that overtook any and all senses, as Gojo weaves through forwards, center forwards, midfielders, and defenders, covering the entire span of the field in lightning time. Fifty yards, forty yards, thirty yards, twenty hards, ten yards–

In a moment you couldn’t believe, he digs his foot underneath the ball, and sends it flying out towards the goal. There was not even a margin of an inch in which it slipped past the goalie’s hands, past his head, and swiftly flew right into the net.

With three-two-one seconds, the match was over. 

5-4, UTokyo’s win.

The final whistle blew, and for a moment, there was silence. As if the world paused to catch its breath. Then, all at once, the crowd erupted with glee that shook the entire stadium at its core. Flags waving, scarves held high, toasts of beer held up to the sky, it was deafening, and it almost makes you want to cry. Thousands of voices shouting in unison, celebrating the hard-fought victory of their school’s team. A type of pride that was fostered, and well-deserved, and long-lived.

You quickly glance towards the field again, and see Gojo standing right at the same spot where he had kicked the last and final goal, staring towards the net. You can’t see the expression on his face, but it surprises you how still he is. Like a statue, staring at the goal with the ball tucked into its corner. The very epitome of what it means to succeed in this sport was right in front of him, and it seemed like he wanted to soak the visual in for as long as he could.

His trance is abruptly interrupted when his teammates swarm in, rushing over like a wave of pure adrenaline. They slap him on the back, ruffle his hair, shout his name, the sounds of gleeful disbelief mixed with exhausted sighs of relief swarming into the air. And Gojo finally melts away from the tension of the match and into the celebration as he weakly returns the embraces of his teammates while he catches his breath. 

“IT’S OFFICIAL!! IT’S OFFICIAL!! UTOKYO’S VERY OWN GOJO SATORU HAS OBLITERATED OSAKA UNIVERSITY’S RECORD FOR MOST GOALS SCORED BY A SINGLE PLAYER IN A CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!!” 

The speakers are blaring the voices of the sports announcers, along with ambient music to match the intensity of the match that everyone had just witnessed. 

You should probably be doing your job. You know, take a picture of the huddle of players on the field as they bask in the glory of a close victory, but instead your feet start moving on their own. Like a magnet drawn to him, you make your way towards Gojo, only a slight hesitation in your step as you stop about ten feet away, suddenly unsure. But when he makes eye contact with you, all that fear melts away.

He hastily pats the backs of some of his teammates, acknowledging their praise at the center of the huddle before tightly squeezing past them to make his way over to you. Your heart is beating fast in your chest, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of pride in your school’s team, but more importantly, in him. What was the acceptable thing to do? Run to him, into his arms, and hug him while he twirls you around? Tackle him to the grassy ground? Kiss him like your life depended on it? You have no clue what the acceptable or sane or normal thing to do is. But he’s made his decision for you when he walks right up to you, his hands holding your waist as he pulls you towards him. He smells earthy, of grass and salt and sweat and of all the hard work he poured into today, the wear and tear of the game evident in the wear and tear of his jersey. He only manages to huff out an exhale at the sight of you, like some relief washing over him just by looking into your eyes. Forget the fact that the crowd was all watching and that all of the screens you could see past his head were focused on the two of you, because all you could hear or see or think was him.

“I believe you owe me a kiss,” he says, huffing as he catches his breath but that doesn’t stop the smile that makes its way onto his face.

You nod your head, giving him your own version of a sweet smile as your arms slide up past his shoulders, crossing behind his neck, and he leans down to kiss you.

You hear a swell from the crowd, some teasing comments off in the distance from some of his teammates, you’re pretty sure you hear Coach Yaga yelling at him to get back to the benches, but it all melts away with the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he kisses you at the center of this stadium.

It was a moment so pure, so sweet, so picture perfect, and for once, you’re not the one behind the camera taking the photo. You’re the one that’s in it.

.

.

.

.

.

[end of kickoff ch12]

a/n. aaa thanks a lot for reading!! pls the fucking public stripping scene was so stupid i apologize on behalf of kickoff gojo for his behavior 😂😂 i’ll put him in his cage dw this chapter had some of what i consider to be the most challenging aspects of writing for me (internal conflict, grand public gesture, sports jargon) and so writing it felt like an uphill battle the ENTIRE time i wrote it and edited it. i considered scrapping it sooo many times cuz i just wasn't happy w it...but whatever i can't expect to be 100% happy w every chapter i put out there haha. i think kickoff has become a lil sacred for me since i've been working on it for a while now but likeee...sometimes u just gotta say fuck it we ball (tbh kickoff gojo probably says that to himself before a match) anywho, i am veryy thoroughly excited for what i've got planned for the chapters to follow, especially moving into the last angsty arc before the end of the series!! so i look forward to picking up momentum w this series again :0 honestly chapters 10 through 12 were the most difficult things i've written so far for a lot of reasons, but i have a feeling things will go more smoothly for me creatively going forward since what i've got planned falls well within my writing comfort range oh also there seems to be a little confusion about the number of chapters left, as i know i had originally said 12, but i anticipate that there will be about 18 chapters of kickoff total!! so still around six chapters left before the end :)) much lovee thanks for reading!!

OH WAIT ONE LAST NOTE I'M SORRY i didn’t really have a way of organically incorporating this into the story n i’m not sure if i’ll get a chance to in the upcoming chapters, so i just wanted to share this part of ch7 (gojo’s pov chapter) that is relevant to this chapter:

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant. 

the record that gojo broke in this chapter is the same record that his father almost broke before he got the call that he was going to be a dad :0 

➸ you're all caught up!

additional notes. please do not pressure me for updates or ask when i will next update (read rules); taglist is currently closed (consider subscribing to the story on my ao3 for email updates if you'd like! :0)

taglist:

@megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed

@wynney @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

@phoenix-eclipses @who-can-touch-my-boob @mo0nforme @reagan707 @lost-resonance

@foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress

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@ri-sa20 @thexmistress @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @sashisuslover

@chwesuh-imnida @megumisthirdog @imjustaweirdnerd @angelicscribe

[taglist is closed]

[queen-of-fanfics]

Stay Away From Him

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Prompt: Miguel is jealous of your closeness with Hobie and tells you to stay from him.

A/N: Well I have had too much free time at work and all I've been doing is writing. Kinda love it. Also, how did y'all like Across the Spider-Verse? I saw it four times in theaters, it's like a drug in my veins. Anywho I figured I wanted to do a fanfic in a world that I haven't done yet so here it is!

Part 2

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Peter!”

“Hey, Y/N”

“Oh hey, Peters.”

“Oi! Y/N!” Recognizing the accent, you look up in the air and see Hobie swinging his way over to you.

“Hobie! What are you doing here?!”

This was your second week working inside the Spider-Verse headquarters. You were the only person there who wasn’t some version of Spiderman. One day, Miguel O’Hara was in your universe for a job, bing bang boom, next thing you knew, he offered you a job. Your job here at headquarters was to act as his assistant of sorts. Help him with errands, help him on missions, and fetch him lunch because the poor man will work until he starves. That was exactly what you are doing now. You had finished locating the latest anomaly and went down to the cafeteria to grab him some empanadas.

Working at headquarters was like a living dream. So far, everyone seems to like you and you’ve already made friends. Hobie and Gwen welcomed you with open arms and the three of you became inseparable. During your time working with Miguel, you may have developed a little crush on your boss. You never told anyone about how your heart starts beating faster or how your breath gets shaky when he stands a little too close. Though, you never had to say because everyone could see it. And everyone warned you away from the infamous Miguel O’Hara.

“He’s not for you. He’s obsessed with his work and barely knows what having fun or being nice is. I doubt he even knows there’s a life outside of this place.” Gwen said one day during lunch.

“Who’s not for me? What are you talking about? I’m just here to work.” You shovel food into your mouth in an attempt to hide your face.

“Mmhmm, sure. You can deny it all you want but if you keep staring at him all weird like that, even he’s going to start to notice. Just trust me, you should just try to stay away from him. Which I guess isn’t possible since he’s your boss but you know what I mean.” 

“Though it does raise the question as to why he recruited her, don’t it?” Hobie chimes in. 

Hobie jumps on your back and it pulls you back to the present.

“I’m here for it! Whatchu think? I would willingly come here? Nah.”

“Actually! We just finished a mission so we just came to check in with Miguel.” Gwen swings down and lands right next to you. The three of you continue walking side by side down the hall to Miguel. Hobie throws his arm casually around your shoulder, keeping you close to his side.

You walk into the main room and see that Miguel is standing on his platform up in the air. There are a few people milling around the room, minding their business. People tend to hover around Miguel in case any missions come up or if he needs help.

“Miguel! I got you some empanadas!” You yell up at him.

He turns and barely glances over his shoulder at the three of you. He grunts and rolls his eyes in annoyance but his platform starts its slow descent. Gwen runs over to Jessica and they start talking. Hobie walks with you over to your little desk that sits on the ground floor …. like a regular person.

“So we still on for tonight?” Hobie asks.

“What’s tonight?” You turn and ask Hobie. You lean your butt against the desk to look up at him. He gets in close, places his hands against the desk on both sides of you, and cages you in with his arms.

“Whatchu mean what’s tonight? Did you forget already? Thought you and Gwen were staying in my place tonight!” Hobie teases you.

“Oh, Hobie! I forgot about that, I can’t come over.” Gwen yells over before she turns back to her conversation.

“Guess it’s just us then.” He mumbles and gives you a wink.

Before you could respond, Miguel’s voice booms through the large chamber.

“Y/N isn’t going anywhere tonight.” Looking over, you see that Miguel has lowered his platform as far as it could go and he is staring directly at the two of you with a deadly look on his face. All the conversations in the room died down and you could tell that everyone's eyes were looking between you and Miguel. Everyone treads carefully around Miguel … everyone except Hobie. 

“What? You keeping her hostage now?”

All of a sudden feeling nervous, unsure as to what put Miguel in a foul mood and not wanting to make it worse, you try to straighten up and stand in attention but Hobie isn’t moving. 

“We’ve got work to do here, Hobie. Unlike you, some of us have things we have to do.” Miguel crosses his arms and stares down at Hobie. 

“What work? We caught all the known anomalies already. Plus I was going to work on my bike, give it some more bells and whistles.” Jessica pipes up.

“There’s more work to do than just waiting around for things to happen.” 

“Then what do I gotta do, hmm?” Jessica sasses back to him.

“Nothing. I, uh, just want to do some surveillance. Never know ”

“And what Y/N got to do with it, then?” Hobie asks, giving Miguel a weird look.

“Y/N is my assistant. Y/N must assist me. And get off of her Hobie.”

“Right, but it don’t sound like there is any real work to do. I don’t see why Y/N gotta sit here and suffer being around you. And, uh, I’m actually quite comfortable where I am.”

“No no, I don’t mind. It’s my job. I can stay” You rush to say as you start pushing at Hobie’s shoulders. 

Hobie turned slowly to look at you without budging and you just stared up at him. “Move.” you mouth to Hobie with beseechment in your eyes. But all he does is smile at you and barely visibly shakes his head ‘No’. Eyes wide, you think to yourself, I’m not going to have a job after this. The room is still silent and no one speaks as the tension rises. 

“Everyone out!” Miguel booms, “Looks like no one wants to work anyways. It’s not as if we’re trying to save the entire universe or anything.” 

“Oh! Miguel, we wanted to check in about the-” Gwen is cut off when Miguel turns back around to his monitors and yells, “OUT!”

Everyone exchanges nervous looks around the room while they pick up their things. The whole time though, Hobie is looking down at you with a knowing smirk on his face. “What are you smiling about?” You hiss at him as you push him up so you can grab your bag and head out. 

“Oh just something I think you should find out for yourself. And you might soon.”

“Ugh, I’m going to kill you.” 

Hobie throws his arm around you and leads you out, “Yeah sure, but hey, looks like you can come over after all, aye?”

“Everyone except for Y/N!” You whirl around at the sudden sound but Miguel is still just looking at his monitors.

“Damn, looks like you’re going to find out real soon. See ya sweet cheeks.” Hobie gives you a wink and walks out with everyone else. 

You stood in the doorway waiting for Miguel’s instructions but after a few beats, you realized that he wasn’t going to turn around and talk to you. Slowly walking back to your desk, you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in the room did not leave along with everyone else. It still lay thick and heavy in the air. Taking off your bag and placing it on your desk, you turn around to face Miguel. You open your mouth to say something to break the silence but he cuts you off. 

“Come up here and help me look at this.” 

Your eyes grew wide and you hurried over to the dais. Your heartbeat started quickening with excitement, you have never been invited onto the platform before. Miguel looks down his nose at you with a disgusted look on his face as you struggle to even get your leg on the platform.

“Sorry, don’t got webs like y’all. Give me a second.”

You finally heave yourself up and flop over on your back, gulping down deep breaths of air. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m out of shape.” Figuring that it was time to actually get to work, you jump up to your feet and face the monitors.

“Alrighty, so what am I looking at?” All of the monitors were showing different videos of different universes. Some other monitors had new articles and alerts of potential disturbances. 

“Just, uh, keep an eye on some of the security cameras we have posted around. See if you catch any suspicious activity.”

“Were you expecting something to happen tonight? Did you get a tip?”

“No, just doing our due diligence to keep everything in line.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you gave Miguel a side-eye look. This is what he’s keeping me here to do? To watch some cameras? 

The whole time he was talking to you and giving you instructions, he did not glance at you, just busily pressing buttons and typing something.

About 10 minutes went by in absolute silence with Miguel working and you … “working”. Getting bored and tired on your feet, you start leaning around the table and let out a sigh. Miguel looks at you over his shoulder but turns back to his work. Another 10 minutes go by before he asks, “So you and Hobie are friends?”

Surprised by the question and surprised he even spoke, you responded, “Yeah, I would like to think so. He’s nice, I like hanging out with him.”

“You two have gotten close?”

Getting confused by his line of questioning, you give him a weird look that he doesn’t see. “I mean, I don’t know about close. We hang out with Gwen too. It’s usually the three of us.”

A few silent beats fall between the two of you before he responds, “I didn’t know you were visiting different universes.”

“Hmm, I’m not really. Besides my own home universe, I’ve only just been to Hobie’s. I haven’t seen Gwen’s though not even she goes back there.” 

Again he doesn’t reply immediately and the comfortable silence continues. 

“I would advise you to stay away from Hobie. He could be a bad influence on you or something.” He mumbles so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it. 

“I’m sorry?” You asked, turning your body full to look at him now. 

“I said ‘you should stay’-”

“No, I know what you said. But I don’t understand why. What’s going on with you? Are you stressed about something? Do you not like Hobie? Because Hobie has been nothing but nice to me and he’s a friend. He keeps me safe even when I visit his universe.”

“And exactly how many times have you visited his universe, hmm? You two seem pretty comfortable flying across universes together.” It was his turn to turn and face you. Standing at his full height, the tops of your head barely came up to his collar bones. 

“I-I- … I don’t know. A few times I guess? 4? Maybe 5 times? But-”

“5 times?! You met him not even two weeks ago and you’ve already been hanging around him that much?” You were trying to explain to ease whatever caused his temper to rise. However, with every response you give, it only seems to anger him more. With every response, he is taking a step closer to you and walking you backward.

“I guess? But he’s my friend! And I’ve always been safe if that’s the issue. He keeps me safe. I know I’m not a Spider-Man like you but-” Miguel ignores your argument and cuts you off again.

“Right right and he keeps you safe which I am sure he is more than happy to do seeing as how he’s always getting up in your space. And what exactly do you do in his universe? You run around town like some hooligans and go back to your home universe when it’s late enough to be considered morning?”

“Ah- No, we hang out at his place and have dinner and stuff, I don’t know! And when it gets late I just stay over at his place!” 

“Stay over?! What? Like overnight? He’s got guest rooms now? He’s hosting house parties?” There’s sarcasm dripping in his words but your brain was running too fast to notice.

“N-No he doesn’t. He’s not. He just lets me use his bed when I’m too tired to go home and I’d just wake up the next morning to come here.” 

All of a sudden, he takes one last step forward and you take one step back but your backside hits the table. He drops his hands on either side of you, exactly like how Hobie had you pinned against your desk earlier but this is different. This feels different. The tension is palpable. With Hobie, it was friendly and playful. With Miguel … it feels like you’re getting hunted and just got caught.

“He what?” Miguel’s voice isn’t loud and angry anymore. No. It’s low and deadly. His question comes out always like a whisper as he leads in so close that your noses are practically touching.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. Hobie is just my friend. Why does this feel like it’s a problem?” You whisper. Miguel doesn’t reply. He simply stares at you with such intensity in his eyes, you’re surprised you didn’t evaporate. Suddenly, he’s looking at your lips. Acting almost instinctively, your tongue shoots out to wet your lips and his eyes immediately shoot back up to yours. There’s the intensity in his eyes again, only this time, it’s different. Definitely not anger.

Suddenly, an alarm from Miguel’s monitor goes off and the sound is thunderous in the silent chamber. 

After a few beats, Miguel drops his forehead on yours, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The whole time, you never take your eyes off of him. Your heart is beating so fast and the blood is rushing in your ears. Very abruptly, he pushes off of the table and whirls around to the monitor. He turns off the alarm and starts typing away, completely ignoring you. Slowly pushing up from the table, you turn back to your own monitor and stare blankly at the empty alleyways and random buildings. 

Where there was comfortable silence before, now, the silence is deafening. 

“You should go home Y/N. I can finish this up on my own.”

Not sure of how to act or how to respond, you slowly climb down from the platform without saying a word and fetch your things.

“And I mean home, Y/N. To your home universe. To your own house. To your own bed.”

Looking back up the dais, Miguel is still facing his monitors, not even looking at you when he talks. Hitching your bag higher up on your shoulder, you respond, “Of course. Goodnight, Miguel. And … for what it’s worth … he always slept on the couch.” 

And with that, you take off running down the hall and teleport back home. 

[thebluester2020]

[ZZZ] Kinktober Day 2: "Knotting"

Summary: After walking in on your boss and seeing that he was struggling with his rut, it's only right for you to let him knot you after walking in on him!

Warning(s): Gentle sex (Kinda? It's mostly focused on the reader being fucked while Lycaon has a knot ngl), Dirty talk, Lycaon being a tease,

Side Note(s): I should have mentioned this in my original post for Kinktober but I didn't so I'll mention it now—

These fics will unfortunately not be as long as the ones I typically write 😔. Here and there I may write something longer if I'm super duper inspired, or if I just find myself wanting more lore than anything but it'll be pretty rare since I'm pumping out a fic per day for this entire month 💪 ✨

Anywho— I hope y'all enjoy more of me ranting about how much I love the wolf guy.

"The least you can do...is help me..."

That was the last sentence you remembered Von Lycaon saying to you before you were snapped back to the present via a particular harsh thrust, a moan tearing from your throat as you clawed at the wooden floor underneath you. To own up to your mistakes, you should have taken a hint that there was a chance that Lycaon was doing something...private via the rapid panting and groaning you heard from behind his door when you returned fresh from running some errands.

Now you found yourself stripped of your clothes and lying on the hard wooden floor, Lycaon's torturing you with his slow yet fierce thrusts as he rocked you steadily on his knot, your head locked into a headlock as a trail of drool escaped the corner of your mouth and trailed down onto the wolf thiren's forearm.

"L-Lycaon—fuuckkk..." You dumbly moaned, not knowing if you pleading for him to speed up or to let you rest for a moment.

He took it as a sign that you wanted him to speed up, the sudden increase in pace as he fucked into you with more vigor making your moans increase in volume and frequency. Lycaon smirked at the lewd sound of your pussy struggling to take his fat knot, and here he thought you were actually telling the truth when you told him so eagerly that you could "help him"!

"Such a shame Miss Y/N, where did all your confidence when you barged into my quarters go?" He said into your ear, his teasing tone making you clench as you unconsciously scratched at his forearm, struggling desperately to keep your head above the waters and not completely drown in the addictive feeling of his cock dragging against your walls. "Surely you can last a few more rounds?" He panted.

"You owe it to me for such a blatant display of rudeness earlier."

His ear twitched at you whining out his name before he stilled with a guttural hiss at your umpteenth orgasm. The sheer force of your orgasm pushing out some of his cum that he had so dutifully stuffed into you earlier, the idea of his precious seed being wasted...especially after you had begged him to fill you up and use you as he pleased in order to ease his rut. Although you did well to reduce his rut, the feeling of your tight walls wrapping so snugly against his cock eased the burning feeling in his chest that he struggled to get rid of earlier.

Still, the idea of you pregnant and round with his pups.

He couldn't get it out of his mind, the mental image becoming clearer and clearer in his mind as his thrusts picked back up to the brutal pace he set earlier. "L-Lycaon?!" You gasped. "W-What are you—Ah!—I thought you were—"

The wolf thiren clicked his tongue. "I won't be done with you for a while Miss Y/N." He said. "Until my knot goes down, I'll be making use of your services until then."

It seemed you were in for a long rest of the day ahead of you.

[mrsarnold]

omgg you should write morgan cheli who has a crush on reader thats a cheerleader for uconn. she’s always trying to get your attention and eventually she does

— flaming hot cheetos ✩ morgan c.

syn : Your a cheerleader at Uconn and your friends with a specific group of basketball players but one of the players catches your eye.

pair : morgan cheli x cheerleader!reader

warn : pure fluff, mo being head over heels, cussing, kissing

note : feeling sparkly today so heres some fluff

the gravity of the air hit you when you were threw up in the air. you were practicing stunts for the upcoming game womens basketball game half time. after a few seconds in the air you landed safely back in your cheermates hands.

when you landed you were greeted by claps which made you turn into the direction of the claps. the loudest were from KK arnold as you turn to the group of girls who were sitting in the bleachers watching you and team practice. you quickly waved at her and your eyes tranced to a brunette girl.

you've seen her before but never spoke to her. your stared at her for a moment, she was laughing at something KK told her. you weren't sure what but you were snapped out of it by your coach.

"alright ladies, great practice today", my coach said as she clapped her hands as a sign to wrap it up. you started grabbing my stuff and headed towards the girls on the bench. you were met by KK and Paige running up to you, pulling you into a huge hug.

as they pulled away KK squealed, "OMGGGG you ate downnn girlll. anywho imma introduce you to the rest of the team." she jumped up and down as she wrapped her arm around you and start walking each girl introducing each one. when she stopped as the last one i looked up met with the familiar brunette.

"so this is Morgan !! she real chill shes just like me!!!", KK said pointing to Morgan then to you. morgan smiled at you then said, "yea its nice to meet you!! heard a lot about you from kk and paige."

you smiled, slightly blushing at the the thought of her getting a earfull about me. you took in the brunette's appearance quickly before KK dragged you off with a O shaped mouth. "girly i know you weren't just checking out Mo", she said shocked.

"i was not !! it was just the first time meeting her y'know i do that to everyone", you said looking around. that part was a bit of a lie but who makes the rules? i quickly waved goodbye to KK and everyone else before heading off to your dorm.

Once you made it to your dorm you got a notification.

*Morgancheli has followed you on all platforms!"

you quickly followed her back on all a bit taken back from it. you decided to go take a shower after a long practice, when you got out and was welcomed by a notification on your phone :

Morgan Cheli :

uhh hey are you the girl from earlier?

as soon as you saw the text you realized KK gave her your socials. you silently cussed KK out in your mind before texting morgan back.

yea your morgan right?

um yeah KK told me to text you

ohhh how r u ?? :)

the two of you continued to talk until you fell asleep. all you could think of was her. you knew yall just met but it was really "love at first sight". these long conversations laster for weeks.

the team knew and had a feeling y'all liked eachother but yall didn't wanna admit it. rather it was unexpected cuddles or before games meet ups, y'all were falling for eachother.

morgan decided to take you to a arcade during her off day from practice. she of course challenged you to every game she saw. y'all ended the hang out (date) at the claw machine.

after two tries she got won you a blue snorlax and you were happy. the two of you were walking back to her car, you were skipping as she was laughing. you stopped skipping infront of the car before you fell.

"so mo.. i have to tell you something", you said turning around to face her looking a little nervous. "yea whats up", she said smiling. "i really like you, like, like like you but its ok if you don't like me back", you said rambling blushing in embarrassment.

she was taken back a bit by your confession, before she could answer some levitated her closer to you. she captured your lips into a kiss before backing up with a smile. "i like you too, your really cute when your nervous", she said smiling

"so will you be my girlfriend", you asked as all the nerves left you. she nodded and the night ended well.

taggies : @star-girl69 @hrtslaces @chelisbae @patscorner @kamii-2 @cosmopretty @lovermcres

[entertainmentgirl80]

Rainy Dayz With The Cowboy. 🤠🌧⛈️

Warnings: Little angst, Tyler Being Tyler, and just some FLUFF.

It's another hot day in Oklahoma. The glass is greener, while the wind is breezing in the air, and the people enjoy themselves during the summertime. So, while you are on vacation to work on some research on climate change, especially how storms have gotten more extreme for the last few years during hurricane & tornado season. However, storm chasing is not really your thing cause of due to your anxiety of storms during your childhood till all the way through your adulthood later on, so while you in Oklahoma, spending time for yourself. This one man caught your attention, and your heart too was YouTuber sensation, aka Tornado Wrangler, Mr. Tyler Owens. At first, he was out of your league because of his cocky but arrogant attitude cause how he came off when you first met him. However, soon after , day after day, as soon as you get to know him more, he is just the most humble but sweet guy you ever met on earth. So, later on that evening, it's was raining and storming outside where the two of you stayed in at a hotel together.

"Hey there, pretty lady, got us some pizza & drinks." Tyler came in from the rain.

"Oh cool, that what up, because I am starving like Marvin." You chuckled.

And, so after y'all two ate some dinner this evening, y'all are chilling and having a conversation about almost everything from y'all childhoods to y'all families .

"I'm surprised that you have a PhD. degree on meteorology, I thought you just a dumb youtuber who cares about clout & the views." She furrowed her eyebrow and being sarcastic .

"Darlin', I'm not that dumb. Besides, it's just my facade I have to put on for the camera." He have a wicked grin towards you that make you blush.

Then....a thunderstorm cracked out of nowhere loud as hell, and you got scared quickly, so you run into the bathroom, and Tyler was concerned, so, he follow behind to comfort you and make sure nothing bad happened to you. Having someone who understands bout being scared and have to face their fears dealing with severe weather phenomena, especially in Oklahoma, is a good thing because Tyler is that type of guy not only be around with but he been around tornadoes and severe storms before with his crew.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry, I just don't like storms." You were embarrassed, but your face was still blushed that Tyler was holding you.

"Sweetheart, there is nothing to be sorry for, is alright to be scared, and you know I'm always be here and I not going to let anything happen to you." He gives you a genuine but sweet smile and a kiss on your forehead.

A/N: Well, this is my first Tyler Owens fanfiction that I'm did write, and yes, I did saw Twisters as well, so anywho, I did the best I'm could, and hope y'all like it. 🤠🌪

[some-pers0n]

I'm gonna be blunt and say that I really don't think a lot of people kinda get these two characters. Sure, yeah, there'll be people like "Psshh no?? Me?? I know exactly who these guys are" and like, yeah maybe you do. Maybe you'll read this while nodding your head and whatnot. Maybe you won't.

Either way, I think there's a decent amount of people who don't...get Qibli and Winter. I mainly see it in shipping stuff. I know it's kinda idiotic to go looking for character stuff in shipping-- you know what?? No. I think it's perfectly sound logic to try and look for meaningful character writing in ship stuff, especially with fanfics. I've got that aroace mindset where I can only comprehend a ship if it has a clear and exact thematical and character-driven purpose.

Anywho, I think there's something to be craved with how Qinter is talked about in the fandom. I think there's something in general to be desired when discussing Qibli and Winter in general (or, hell, most of the characters) or other ships they're in, but I want to discuss Qinter mainly as a means to view them through the lens of a relationship. Some sort of duo and pair. Two young dragonets trying to survive.

Winter and Qibli come from incredibly similar backgrounds. That sounds ridiculous at a first glance, but when you think about it, they do. They both were raised with terrible parents who held them to an unrealistic standard that neither really wanted to be.

Winter was forced to become a child soldier and be the best of the best, despite his best rightfully not being absolutely perfect and having a ton of heart and soul in him. Ironically enough, his sheer loyalty to his friends that he displays later would be commended in the IceWing army, but is only looked down upon because he's showing anything other than pure apathy at existence and disgust when confronted with the other tribes. Winter is a kind soul who was shaped and twisted into becoming somebody far meaner to fit the idea of what his parents wanted him to be. It's a mask he wears to fit in. To be at least be tolerated by the dragons he only wants the approval from.

Qibli was raised in the slums of Scorpion Den. The back alleys and dark, seedy streets that are avoided. He had to fit the build of a thief. A petty pickpocket that lurks around like his family, doing nothing more than swiping whatever goods they could get their hands on. Qibli was kind and sweet, which obviously was a terrible sin in the eyes of his family. Like Winter, this planted a seed of wanting to be loved, although to a significantly larger extent than Winter felt. Qibli became obsessed with the idea of being loved as he hated being seen as nothing. He wanted nothing more than to be praised and admired because of just how neglected he was. So, he pretends to be somebody likable. Somebody who others care about. A mask to conceal the dragon he feels can never be loved.

Because of their backgrounds, they feel at odds when they're introduced to one another. Qibli is the laid-back jokester type while Winter is snarly and angry. Thanks to Moon's powers though, we get a look into them even before their book.

We see that Qibli is paranoid and his brain is constantly trying to predict others. He's always in a state of stress and fear, putting on a performance to try and be liked and see which dragons are the biggest threats to him. He's never gotten used to living outside of the crime-filled Scorpion Den, and the memories of childhood where he had to lay awake thinking that some dragon who his mother stole from will murder them all in their sleep remain. He's scared and afraid.

Winter managed to convince himself that he is this mean and nasty dragon, but really he's not. There's moments of hesitancy in MR from him. He's also just. generally not really that much in the wrong in the book. Sorry my Winter Apologist side is coming out but y'all hate too much on a character who was just kinda mean for some random dragon he only knew for a couple days at most by then doing stuff that was very suspicious. Yeah obviously Moon is the protagonist and we like her and know the full context, but Winter?? He doesn't know anything!

I digress however. They're in. not the best of states. Sure, yeah, Qibli had ran from Vulture and Cobra and was now Thorn's adoptive son of sorts, but he was obsessed with Thorn to the point of almost blind worship. He hailed her as some grand dragon because he had never been loved before. Being loved by somebody felt incomprehensible. He wants to repay it since he feels like he doesn't deserve it.

Winter on the other hand has just gotten away from a terrible situation, where his family more or less just hates him. They hate him so much it's not even funny. Winter had gotten Hailstorm, somebody who Winter loved and admired, was stolen away by the SkyWings and presumed dead for years because of him. He blames himself. He constantly thinks that he should've been the one taken away instead. He doesn't see himself worthy to live, especially not compared to Hailstorm. Hailstorm is charming, smart, strong, and better in every capacity to Winter. How could he ever live up to that?

Their shared flaw is that they feel inadequate. They feel as though there's something inherently flawed with themselves, something that they need to hide away. It was shaped because of their similar backstories, where they were neglected and abused and put down because of them never being able to meet the unreasonable expectations placed on them. Because of this trauma, their personalities in the present are shaped to try and fit in.

It's only by being with the Jade Winglet do they begin to unlearn those habits. I would imagine that, in moments where they chat with each other for the first real time (not fighting or anything), they...notice how alike they are. Like holding up a mirror to themselves. Despite how differing their personalities are, they feel one in the same. The other side of the coin.

It's why I think Qinter really works as something more than a cheap means for comedic relief. They bounce off each other really well and in an interesting way, which makes for their interactions feeling a lot more meaningful when they put away the act and show and are genuine. I honestly think that they would want to help each other out. They see themselves in the other and don't want them to feel like they have to do this, but they can't even save themselves.

It's only with time however. Healing is a process. It's sure as hell hard to do it all alone. It's why I love a lot the themes of friendship and togetherness in arc 2 especially. All of the POVs learn how to be more confident and sure of themselves through their friends. I just wish that Qinter was talked about in a more intellectually stimulating way than "yellow boy laughs at blue boy for being angsty teen"

[xokohaneazusawa]

Hello!! How are you? I hope youre doing well!! :D

Could i request reo, nagi and rin having a crush on professional volleyball player!fem reader that is quiet and a bit intimidating?

Have a nice day!! (⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠)

Hii! I'm doing good! So excited for the last week of school but I'm swamped with end of year tests 😭 And I hope you have a great day/night as well!! So sorry it took me a while to get around to writing your request, and I hope you enjoy!!<3

Reo Mikage -> Is most likely a little intimidated when he first met you but when he realized that you were actually sweet and just a little quiet he wasn't as nervous -> Kinda excited that your also an athlete, since you know about the harsh trainings and when he went through the Nagi thing about teammates and things like that -> Will buy you things that you need, even if you make your own money, since ya know being all professional and stuff, but still does try to swipe that card when you're not looking -> Will come to your tournaments, and will invite you to all his games, unless you two have something else going on were you can't make it but he really does try -> Being in the news, both as professional athletes you most likely are in the news together, but it's fine, everybody thinks y'all are cute together, even if they only see the RBF face that you normally have -> When you're done with your games and stuff has actually had to convince a couple of your fans that you're not as mean as you may look -> Overall, y'all are really cute and even cuter behind closed doors after a practice, for either one of you and are just laying together, maybe in silence, maybe the background noise of a TV show playing Nagi Seishiro -> Probably just gave you a weird look when he first met you, I mean you did look a little scary to him, maybe it's just an athlete thing.. -> He kinda related you and Barou in his mind and at first, even if you looked nothing alike besides the fact you had a little bit of an intimidating expression -> A little more intrigued when he realized that you were also an Athlete, I mean somebody else to understand his pain of always being sore and not wanting to go to practice, right?? -> When he finally met you though and realized that you weren't as intimidating as you seemed and were actually quite quiet he was a little off put but soon learned that you weren't anything like Barou -> Has possibly tried to convince to skip practice and stay home, but if you say no, he'll actually get up and try to work on something with you, but if you say yes then he'll cuddle up to you and just sit there in silence -> Both you and Nagi have faces that kinda seem to have faces that don't really tell you what you're thinking on the inside, so you're def a hard to read couple, and most people don't even know your dating -> But once when an interviewer mentioned his need to be somewhat close to you at events he just outright said that you two were actually dating Rin Itoshi -> Also looks pretty intimidating, so y'all work well together -> The media's favorite RBF athlete duo -> Anywho, kinda loves the fact that you are also an athlete, I mean (again) you understand the amounts of training that he has to undergo, and with like ball control and stuff -> Loves when you two talk about what you've been working on, and even when he doesn't fully understand what you mean by "setting to outside hitter" or "Jump serves" he does still try his best to start understanding -> Likes going to your games, and trying to understand what the hell you were talking about -> Also likes when you show up to his games, even if he never actually shows it -> Loves learning about your sport even if you don't always talk about it, and even if he never actually shows it, also tries to include some of the things that you tell him about your sport into his, kinda like a little memento towards you

[giggly-squiggily]

Freckle-Dusted Daffodils (Jujitsu Kaisen)**Tickletober2024**

Y'all know I had to write for the girlfriends. Like- it's the law. Anywho- happy Tickletober! :D Today I bring you some NoMaki (Makibara?) cause dang it they're cute and I love them!

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @rachi-roo @mystwrites @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @sevenincubistolemyheart @riisada @sp1racle @happy-trenchcoated-impala @r-ne_lovesu

Maki wasn’t the type to sleep in. Not usually anyway.

She was fairly consistent with her morning workouts- making it a point to get up extra early and hit the fields with her various cursed weapons; coming home around brunch hour with treats for her and Nobara to share. Some days however- she just let herself relax.

Today was one of those mornings.

Nobara let out a near mute sigh of content as she laid her head against Maki’s chest, relishing this rare day off from their usual routine. The room was the perfect temperature of cool but not too cold- the sky outside was cloudy and threatening to rain at any moment. Maki’s heartbeat was white noise; a soothing rhythm that pulled her towards sleep the longer she listened to it.

She didn’t want to sleep though. It was a rare sight, Maki at peace like this. She wanted to drink it in for as long as possible.

Leaning into the pillow, Nobara took in her face, from her long lashes to the way her hair fell against her scarred and freckled shoulders. Maki always had her skin covered- she never knew about them until now. The brunette took one last peek at her girlfriend’s face before reaching out, barely tracing the pattern of brown spots with her nails.

A twitch, a squirm. Nobara felt her lips curl into a grinch like smile.

Oh?

She did it again, just barely touching her as she traced the freckles dusting her scarred skin, feeling her girlfriend stiffen some in her sleep. Despite this, she didn’t look mad or unhappy- the slightest of frowns and Nobara would back off. Instead, she seemed even more relaxed than before.

“What do we have here?” Nobara barely spoke over a breath, biting down giggles as she carried on walking her feathery fingers down the freckled skin of Maki’s arm, tracing constellations against the warm surface. The entire time, Maki remained asleep- only occasionally reacting whenever Nobara got close to her armpits of the skin not covered by her tank top. It was such a warming sight, seeing her so peaceful, and knowing Nobara’s actions- admittedly backed by mischief- were a part of it made the smaller girl happy.

She ran her fingers back to the skin on Maki’s shoulder, debating whether she’d go for her neck or not. It’d end the game, but she just might have an advantage. She was about to do so when-

A hand caught hers, golden eyes opening and staring down her wide brown ones. “Oh, hey honey. Good morning.” Nobara smiled, hoping she didn’t look like a field mouse to Maki’s lioness glare. “You erm- sleep well?”

“....You know, I did.” Maki admitted, making Nobara relax. “I had a dream that I was in a field, and no matter how many times I swatted it away, this daffodil kept tickling me.” Oh no! Nobara tried not to laugh as she was suddenly pulled closer, Maki’s dangerous form looming over her. “So I decided when I woke up, I’m gonna pluck it out of the ground and tickle it. What do you think?”

“Well…erm, can the daffodil make a request?” Nobara squeaked out, giggling more when Maki quirked an eyebrow. “Cahan she have breakfast first?”

The green haired warrior blinked. Then she laughed, the sound low and raspy and doing funny things to Nobara’s insides. “Later.”

“Wait-wai-ahhahahahahhahahahahait!” Nobara let out a shriek as her sides were grabbed, Maki’s fingers flying up and down with merciless intent. “Mahahhahaki! Mahahhahhaki babahhahahahbe pleahhahahahshe-gehahhahahahah!”

“What’s wrong, daffodil? Not happy with the consequences of your actions?” Maki cooed at her, voice sweet compared to the destruction her fingers were bringing upon Nobara’s nerve endings. “Did you not think this through? Or are you just realizing this is what you wanted all along?” She kneaded along the terrible spot against Nobara’s  hip, making her shriek so loudly they were sure somebody would complain. “Admit you wanted this all along and I’ll stop.”

“THAHHAHAT’S NOHOHOHOT FAHAHAHAHIR! AHEHAHAHAHAH MAHAHHHAKI!” The brunette cried, cheeks burning and eyes blurred with mirthful tears. She didn’t have the strength to push her away, so she opted to let her hands kinda flail, slapping at the sheeted bed and pulling at loose strands of Maki’s hair. “OHOHOKAY OOHOHOKAY FIIHIHINE! THIHIHIS IS WHAHAHT I WAHHAHHANTED NOW STAHAHHAP!”

Maki hummed in thought, moving her fingers to Nobara’s belly as she pretended to think about it. The brunette’s screeches died down to relentless giggling, her hands coming up to grab onto Maki’s. “Well…okay. I guess I can forgive you this time.” She finally stopped for good, letting Nobara breathe. “Do that again however and I’ll really make you regret it.”

“Schahahhary.” Nobara giggled out, squeaking when her hips got pinched. Before she could protest, Maki was kissing her, switching gears in her brain and making her melt. When they pulled back, she let out a happy sigh, reaching up and brushing her bangs back from her forehead. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too, you dork.” Maki kissed her again before rolling off her, going towards the bathroom. “Hurry up and get dressed- I promised a daffodil breakfast.”

“Aww, but I just got comfy!” Nobara whined some from her sheets, curling up more with a small pout. “Can I have you for breakfast instead?”

Maki paused, turning back with a raised brow. Nobara let out a witchy cackle before hiding in her blankets, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re too much.”

“You love me!”

“Do you want real breakfast or not?”

“Can it be that new donut place that opened up?”

“If you get your ass out of bed in time, yeah.” Maki smirked as she walked into the bathroom, the sounds of Nobara flailing out of bed making her laugh. 

God, she loved her so much.

Thanks for reading!

[vivilingriphyn]

The Sham | P2

Part 1

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY FOR Y'ALL! So glad i was able to finish this the day before valentines from where I'm from so I can be free tomorrow onwards aka the day this is set to be uploaded. And think of this as my lil valentines gift for y'all ^^

From what I can tell the comic might be done in 4/5 parts maybe 6 it just depends how much free time i have irl.

But I'm very happy with myself to keep being motivated to make this comic have quality in visuals and I'm dreading how i am approaching the dialogues soon T -T) and the major reveal for my AU which hopefully will explain what my AU is all about and it will be angst and gruesome, especially on the visuals but for now I'm going turtle pace.

And another reason why I've also been holding this off was because whether or not to make a custom font for this comic because when I went to go and draw the "..." I realized how cool it would be if i made a custom font for this. But it might take some time for me to figure out how to do it again, since it's been a long while since the last time I've made a custom font and import it into ibispaint.

Anywho that's all for today! Stay creative y'all o7

[radioisntdead]

Hello, can we have a hc Overlord!Parental Figure reader for Velvette? I just think it would be silly to have us scolding Velvette at the Overlord Meeting. Also I wish to be tall, between Carmilla and Rosie's height-🙃

Good evening my dear! I do hope you enjoy these! Also I felt that wish to be tall.

Parental figure overlord! reader x Daughter figure! Velvette headcanons

She made sure you wouldn't be at the overlord meeting where she sung respectless because if you were there and she pulled that stunt with the angel's head and the music number with Carmine, she would've been smacked.

I'm thinking you were one of the first overlords she met after she died, she got lucky that you immediately viewed her as a child figure because otherwise she would NOT be where she was today.

She'd be dead or worse.

I imagine back in the early days you just showed up with her to Rosie's like "This is my disrespectful child! Velvette! Say hi to Miss Rosie!" "no."

You taught her practically everything you know about being an overlord.

You let her slide with her behavior most of the time, mostly with regular sinners or hellborn, but with overlords? You shut that shit DOWN, especially if you consider some of them, Like Carmilla Carmine or Zestial, friends of yours.

Like Velvette chill the fuck out those are your godparents.

Forbid that you WERE at the meeting with the musical number she's getting YOINKED off the table, you're tall, she's short it's not a tough fight.

At regular overlord meetings whenever she starts getting too feral, you just give her the mom look™ or the dad look™

Or whatever the middle version of that is, the grunkle stan look??™

And she chills out.

Or if that doesn't work a "Velvette." In a certain tone does the trick.

You see Vox and [Vomiting noises] Valentino as her little friends, you don't take them seriously despite having a couple of business deals with Vox.

Y'all have little Parent child days that involve going out to eat, spa, movies or something etc etc with matching outfits obviously.

You know how some kids have a separate social media account from their parents? Well she can't exactly do that so she just sets it up to where you can only see SOME of her posts.

Speaking of her social medias guess who gets mother's Day/father's day posts dedicated to them?

You!

You know that one thing that's like "THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE" with the dude getting on the refrigerator that's Velvette with you sometimes.

You may or may not live in the vee tower no one knows you just kinda, appear.

Sometimes if your scolding Velvette and Vox or [more vomiting noises]Valentino walk in, they get roped into it.

Thankfully the only one that actually gets beaten is Valentino

Sometimes when you visit Carmilla you drag Velvette with you to have a playdate with Carmilla's daughters while you and Carmilla have like, tea or a business meetings.

Whenever she's sick, you come in CLUTCH bringing in soups, meds, tucking her in and making sure she rests.

For your birthdays she makes your present [which is usually some type of clothing] personally, like she's the one sewing.

It needs to be perfect for her parent, and the fools working under her would NOT make it perfectly.

She WOULD not tell you that she's the one that makes it herself.

You definitely bring her something whenever you visit her, like she's a spoiled brat for a reason, veruca salt but better, more ironic and less annoying.

Good evenin' folks! I hope y'all enjoyed! I rewatched Velvette clips while writing and lowkey forgot how iconic she is, anywho as always thank you for tunin' on in!

[sparkbeast20]

What are Unholyc's

This was brought to my attention cause I saw this post by the @thrones-of-buer

Now, Spoilers for Love Unholyc.

Unholyc's are:

Unholyc are the descendants of Asmodeus, an ancient demon king of lust that descended upon this land a long time ago.

Apparently, he fell in love with humans and gave birth to the first generation of Unholycs. They resemble Asmodeus in that they have the ability to charm and seduce others while being able to use powers like most devils.

In Love Unholyc (PrettyBusy)

Story:

The player is named Mir by default. Though an Unholyc, she isn't interested in anything other than games and isn't able to fully control her charm ability. However, she is always extremely happy and active. Her coming of age ceremony is approaching and she might become a decent Unholyc after that. (…Maybe?)

Mir lives alone with her butler, William, who takes care of everything in the house and is very devoted, despite his aggressive personality. We are hinted that she is from a great Unholyc lineage but isn't conscious of it.

To get successfully past her coming of age ceremony, she needs a lot of acme, vital energy she can get from a contract with another being. Following the instructions of a letter she received from a very prominent Unholyc, she goes to a tailor shop where she meets three very handsome men with an aura resembling an Unholyc.

She accidentally starts the contract ritual. Though she discovers that they are humans, they all agree on the contact anyway.

The whole story revolves around Mir/MC getting through the seven days to complete her coming-of-age ritual to become a full pledged Unholyc.

In Season 1 of the game Mir/MC is focus on growing her connection with the three main Love interests Jung Hi, Sol, and Leo.

(Using this cause I like their season 2 sprites much better then their season 1's sprites)

Through out the week, you will choice dialog with some are specific for a love interest. Beware there are comedic/bad endings in the game if you don't get Affinity(Relationship) Levels.

But on the seventh day, base on you're choses. The Li who has most affinity will be your main route in season 2.

However Season 1 ended with Eater (The main threat and you're other love interest for season 3) killing the three Lis and William (Your Butler/other love interest for season 3) use his ability to manipulate time, restarting the week.

And that where we start with Season 2, Mir/MC going back to Ripeato where she meets the three again, they remember what happened and promise to not let what happened on the seventh day again and promise to protect Mir/MC.

Unholyc's Ability

It seems that base on both games, Unholycs and Devils have specific ability.

In WHB each devils have a specific talent/ability and some like healer class would be affiliated to a certain region.

In LU, William has the ability to manipulate time how ever what happened with S1, his paid the price and his body reverted back into-

Anywho

There is a character named Pierce who has the ability into the future.

Eater has the ability to eat other Unholycs and take their abilities.

There are three others, Zenon, Shallote, and James Roger but I can't remember what their abilities are.

Can a human be an Unholyc?

The answer is yes... Though...

I want to mention cause my possible theory of Minhyeok doing this ritual and becomes an Unholyc lol.

There also this.

What William is talking about here, happened. This was Sol's Dark/Bad ending.

*I still what to see a DLC for each of the bad endings*

Connection to What in "Hell" is bad?

And that's it.

Hope this helps y'all :D

[restinslices]

Lin Kuei Sibling Headcanons

I gotta stop using the same gifs over and over again. Anywho, just random headcanons about them when they were younger. A few of these is what my siblings and I did but listen-. No sad shit this time around, but next time issa wrap no bun (word to CoryXKenshin)

When they were younger Bi-Han realized someone was drinking his shit, so he started spitting in it

He also loudly announces that he did so and that whoever drank his shit was drinking his germs 

Kuai Liang responded by saying “well we both share the same DNA”

Revolting. Yuck. 

Tomas smiles when he's nervous so people always think he's lying. 

“Did you drink my slushy?” “No” “Yes you did. You're smiling” “YOU'RE MAKING ME NERVOUS”

D if you ever see this, I did not drink that fucking slushy years ago and getting mom involved was actually so foul. “Put that on my dead granny”, WHY WOULD I LIE ON GRANDMA? I SHOULD'VE drank it. Should've took a big ass gulp 

Moving on- 

Like I said in my last post, Bi-Han and Kuai Liang have definitely jumped Tomas before 

They call it play fighting, Tomas calls it attempted murder 

Bi-Han is the “come here” brother and Tomas is the “you're gonna hit me” brother 

Bi-Han is also the “you want a cookie?” and Tomas is the “what'd you do to it?”

Speaking of those two, the real reason Bi-Han doesn't like Tomas is because Tomas would stand in his doorway and when Bi-Han would tell him to get out, Tomas would say “I'm not in your room”

Kuai Liang would put his finger close to Bi-Han but say he's not touching him 

That's the real reason he betrayed them. It's true. I asked him. 

Idk which one them does it but one of these mfs puts the cereal box in front of them to ignore the brother they're mad at 

Tomas is “your dad is pissing me off”, Kuai Liang is “lmao what happened?”

Bi-Han’s room is the chill out spot against his will

Kuai Liang has accidentally set someone on fire 100% and they never let him live it down (my siblings did that on purpose but scooting right along) (no one died😃)

Tomas is the victim of white jokes. He'll say smth and here comes Bi-Han “why are you?? speaking?? to me?? as a white person?? go eat salt??”

Kuai Liang is “hey can I have a bite?” and Bi-Han says “sure” then licks all over whatever he has. 

“Tuesday is my day with the TV” “you're adopted. shut up”

Bi-Han has gotten the other two into several fights ‘cause he has a bad temper and his siblings ride for him 

This one time my sister yelled at a teacher for yelling at me and that's Bi-Han. Like yeah, he's not the nicest as an adult but as a kid? The only mf that's allowed to yell at his brothers is HIM. 

They've all gotten whooped because none of them snitch on each other. This is a ride or die brotherhood (for now) (not me tho. My mom got a heavy ass hand. You're on your own)

“Tell your brother to do those damn dishes” “you want me to say it like that? with the curse word?” “go ahead”

Whoever it is goes to their brother and- “dad said get your big nasty ass up and clean those motherfucking dishes before he whoops your skinny long neck ass”

I cannot pinpoint who exactly would do this and risk the whooping so imma just say they've all been guilty

Bi-Han and Kuai Liang are those annoying ass kids asking you to play bloody knuckles. If you don't get the fuck away from me-

Tomas played with Kuai Liang once and quit immediately

Kuai Liang is the “I only had a cup” when the juice is all gone. Yeah, you had a big ass cup you get from Super America. The Minute Maid is gone because of you 

Bi-Han and Kuai Liang, “Say Fuck, I'm not gonna tell dad”. Tomas says “no” and the day he does say it now he's being blackmailed 

Kuai Liang would help Bi-Han look for shit he knows he took. Y'all may think Kuai Liang would never do such a thing. He's so sweet. THAT'S HOW HE GOT AWAY WITH IT!

When they accidentally really hurt the other and hear their parents, they have different reactions. Bi-Han is the “tell them. I don't care. Actually, I'll tell them for you” brother. Kuai Liang is the “wait wait wait, calm down. Stop crying. Look, you can hit me back. You want candy?” brother. Tomas is the “that was actually an accident. My bad” brother. 

Tomas actually learned all that smoke… magic… uhh… shit so he could defend himself cause he was getting ragdolled in that house 

Kuai Liang is actually really nice to Tomas now cause he looks back and thinks “wow, I was kinda an asshole”

For example, Tomas was living his life and here comes these maniacs grabbing him and putting his bare feet in the snow 

Idk, I just really think Tomas was fighting for his life in that house 

It was all in love but now he jumps when they move a little too fast

Tomas tells his brothers he loves them a lot because he wasn't able to tell his birth family before they were killed. He wants them to always know and whenever their time does come, he wants it to be the last thing they hear from him or the last thing he says before he dies. 

Kuai Liang usually says it back or says something else comforting. His way of saying “I love you” can be something as simple as a hand on the shoulder. Sometimes instead of saying “I love you”, he says “I care about you”. Personal preference 

Bi-Han used to say “I love you” back but as time passed, he stopped. He's someone who gets kinda uncomfortable when it comes to vulnerable emotions. His way of saying “I love you” is “are you hurt?”. It's usually only used after a form of combat but combat can make you realize that your life is on a time limit. We saw in game and by intro dialogues that he was hurt by Kuai Liang not sticking by him. The idea that he doesn't care for his family AT ALL I think is false. I think he cares but he cares about his own goals more. 

That's all I got for fluffy shit rn

I’m actually someone who enjoys angst way more than fluff but thinking about them and angst makes my heart fall into my ass … imma write some later tho

[queen-of-fanfics]

I Told You To Stay

Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader

Prompt: Peter told you to stay.

A/N: Ayoooo lol I'm alive. Anywho Y'ALL I GRADUATED COLLEGE and the first thing I accomplished after was writing this fanfic. How have y'all been? Now I have some free time and a desk job so I have time to write more. I literally got the idea for this scenario from a dream I had. So... This one gets a little heated but nothing explicit.

I Told You To Stay Part 2

"Where do you think you're going?" Peter teases you as he grabs your arm to spin you around.

You were the second Lost Girl to have ever made it to the island. The first will always be Wendy. Wendy continues to be the mother figure around the island while you were free to run off hunting and exploring with the Lost Boys. You could never shake the feeling that either Wendy hated you or envied you. She would be stuck cooking and caring for the boy while you were almost like a sister. You two never got along too well, the feeling of competition was always there.

The second that you came to the island and met everyone, it was no surprise that Peter was the one that caught your eye. 

However, you were always hesitant to let any hope blossom in you since you thought that Peter and Wendy were together. And if they weren’t, she would have first dibs on him anyway. But that fact never stopped your crush and admiration of him from growing. Day in and day out, you were running through the forests with him and protecting the Lost Boys together. 

Tonight was a quiet and warm night and everyone had had their dinners and was heading to bed. Wendy had made dinner and stayed back at the camp to clean up. You were heading towards your cabin before Peter grabbed your arm.

“You aren’t going to bed already, are you?” Peter asked with his usual smirk.

“Why, huh? You got something in mind worth my while?”

“Only one way to find out, I suppose.” He hides his smile from you as he leads you into the forest. That leads to where you are now. Running through the trees and climbing up the cliff as Peter is bounding off in front of you.

Coming to a stop behind Peter, you drop your hands to your knees and your head drops to start gasping for air. “Are we there yet? I feel like my lungs are going to explode!”

All of a sudden you’re squealing in delight because Peter ran over to you and scooped you into the air, carrying you bridal style. He takes off flying and your arms shoot out and wrapped around his neck. 

“What are you doing?!” 

“Taking you up to see the stars!” He yelled over the whistling wind as you continued laughing until tears formed in your eyes. 

Daring to peek over his shoulders, you gasp at the beautiful aerial view of the island before he dives and does a giant loop in the air. Hugging him close, you shove your face into his neck and breathe in his scent. Though the night was cool, you felt warm against him. Wanting this moment to last forever but you know it can’t, you decide that you will hold this memory so you can always relive this happiness that you feel. 

Feeling dizzy either from the adrenaline or from him, you rest your head against him and press a soft kiss on his neck. 

Suddenly, Peter tosses you lightly into the air and you are airborne before he catches you but now your position has changed. Now you are sitting, straddling his hips, as his hands come to your behind to carry your weight. Your arms wrap around his neck again but now you are face-to-face with him. 

As a blush covers your face, you whisper, “Well hi there.” 

He gives you a small smile as he looks at your thorough hooded eyes, “Much better don’t you think? Now I can see you.” 

You sit there, chest to chest with breaths mingling, completely suspended in the air over a cliff. “What are we doing, Y/N?” His whisper caresses your skin and he leans in just a little bit closer.

“What do you mean?” You can’t help but do the same, almost like a string pulling you to him.

“You know exactly what I mean. Have you casted a spell on me? Making me dream of you every night and thinking of you every minute the sun is up? Have you made yourself my personal magnet to me so I can never not be near you? Are you bewitching me?” He continues to whisper as one of his hands drags up your body and grips the back of your neck, pulling you in closer until your noses are barely touching. 

Your breaths are coming out shaking but your fingers find their way to his hand and you tighten your hold, desperately keeping him close. 

“What if it’s you that is playing with my head?”

Your lips are brushing against each other but not quite touching. Your brain fogs with desire but it’s all pulled away from you as Peter abruptly pulls away and starts flying back to land.

“Wha-” You’re dizzy from the sudden change but you aren’t able to be stable on your feet before Peter is hurriedly pulling you through the trees. Silently giggling and running through the forest, your heart is beating out of your chest. 

Coming to a clearing, you see a small and simple log cabin sitting by itself. There are a few steps leading up to a porch that surrounds the little cabin. 

“Where are we, Peter?”

“This is my place.” He finally slows down to a stop.

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you as he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. The movement pulls a giggle out of your throat but you don’t take your eyes off the cute cottage.

“I thought you had a tent back at the campsite with everyone else, hm? Are you keeping secrets from us now?” You tease.

“I always have secrets, don’t you know. But this is my own quiet place. I come here when I need to think. Or when I’m scheming.” He tickles your sides and gives your neck a quick kiss before he straightens. “Come on, let’s go inside.” He takes your hand and walks you into the cabin. 

The inside of the cabin matches its look on the outside. Comfortable. Simple. Nothing extravagant. The main room is open. One side seems to act as a dining room with a large table with a few chairs beside it. The other side of the room has a matching large table but this table is covered in maps, scrolls, trinkets, and many other items you did not recognize. You see a door towards the back of the cabin which you could tell leads to a bedroom.  

“Here, let me get you some water before you pass out on me.” 

But before Peter could take a step or before you could even respond, a voice calls out from the back room.

“Peter darling? Did you just get home?”

The blood drains from your face and your eyes grow to saucers as you see Wendy walk out of the back room. Your ears started ringing and it feels as though everything is happening so fast yet so slowly. 

Peter marches over to Wendy and angrily argues with her though you couldn’t hear anything over the muffling in your ears. “What are you doing here? Who said you could be here?”

“What are you talking about, baby? Don’t be like that.” 

Wendy tries to run her hands up Peter’s front side but her hands do not get far before he grabs her hands and throws them off of him. 

Your eyes shoot back and forth between Peter and Wendy and you could hear yourself mumbling, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t-” You hadn’t realized that you were backing up until you felt the front door hit your back. 

Before you knew it, Peter was in front of you. All you could do was stare up at him with your heart ready to leap out of your chest. You were confused and hurt and scared and you wanted to be mad. But looking up at him. With his face soft and full of worry. All you could do was trust. Trust in what, you weren’t sure. But a wave of calmness fell over you as you looked at him and his hands came up to softly grip your shoulders. 

Peter was gently moving you through the cabin and you could hear Wendy protesting but you couldn’t clear your head enough to hear what she was saying. Peter leads you to the back room which is his bedroom. He sits you on his bed and whispers to you, “Stay here.” 

“Peter, I can go. I should’ve known you two were together. I shouldn’t be here, I can go.” But before you could make a move for the door, Peter grips your face gently but firmly, “I said ‘stay here’. I will figure this out. I’m not with her. She isn’t welcome here. You. Stay. Here.” 

Peter slammed the door behind him as he left and all you could do was sit on the bed as you were told. Looking around the room, there wasn’t much there to keep you entertained. There was a nightstand by the bed with a few nicknacks on it. A desk with papers covered in writing you couldn’t read. No pictures. No posters. Nothing. Twiddling your thumbs, you tried to not overthink. You sat as patiently as you could but as the minutes ticked by and their angry whispering didn't stop, your anxiety started to kick up.

What if he is lying? Why would she just randomly be here? She’s comfortable enough coming in and out of his place like that. He could just be telling me what I want to hear. Of course, they’re together. Even a blind person could see that they were together. When did I become so dumb?! I need to get out of here. 

Your breathing starts to become more rapid as your mind starts spiraling. Looking around the room, there was only one door, and that led back to the main room where Peter and Wendy are. The only other thing in the room was a window that sat above the desk. That was your ticket out. You thank the stars that you weren’t on an upstairs floor or anything or else this escape plan was going to be harder than you thought.

Swinging the window wide enough for your body to fit through, you quietly climbed up onto the table, careful not to disturb anything, and started to push out. You managed to make your way out but you accidentally made a loud thump as your body hit the back deck. Before you could stop and think about what to do, you jumped to your feet and took off running into the forest. 

You ran until your lungs burned and ran some more. All around you were trees, trees, and more trees. Everything looked the same yet you didn’t recognize where you were. “Shit I should have been paying attention on the way here. Where the fuck am I?”

Coming to a stop, you drop your hands to your knees to try and catch your breath. After a few deep breaths, you stand up tall and prepare to take off again, at a more reasonable pace this time that you’re far enough away.

But before you could head off, something flies into you and you go slamming back into a tree. A warm, hard body pushes up against you and holds you flush against the tree with no room to escape. It’s still too dark in the night and the trees are blocking the moonlight so you can’t see what has you pinned. You start wiggling around and try to use your hands to push yourself free but a hand wraps around your wrists and pins them above your head. Something comes close to your ear and you could feel the anger radiating from this figure.

“I thought I told you to stay.”

I Told You To Stay Pt. 2

[lotus02lavish]

Pls do Lukas x reader headcanons!!

《 Replied: High school is killing me. Anywho, I shall casually throw this request to y'all with love, YEET-》

↬[Minecraft Story Mode (MCSM) Video Game ⚔ Romantic & Fluff 💕 Headcanons 🧠]

"Wow. Never knew you cared so much."

Dating Lukas would include:

✧̣̇ . ⋆ ✶ ˖ · ˳ . ✦ . ˚⊹๑‧₊ ᘏ✧̣̇ . ⋆ ✶ ˖ · ˳ . ✦ . ˚⊹๑‧₊ ᘏ✧̣̇ . ⋆ ✶ ˖ · ˳ . ✦ . ˚

🏇🏼 Horse riding together! The classic ride off to the sunset, racing giddily to the forest, sometimes one of you fall down because distracted focusing on one another and get stuck on the trees.

🎯 Him teaching you how to do archery.

"Gee, you're my cupid, y'know?"

"Shh, stay focus on the target, ;)"

Playing "The Building Dare" game. The two of you are too competitive with passion; although Lukas might let himself lose a few times, seeing you happy is already a prize for him to gain.

Using stealth mode to steal his jacket causes Lukas to chase you until he tackles and tickles you down, which forces you return it to him. But, wait, he realizes you look more attractive wearing the Ocelot jacket. So, yeah, he does not mind you wear it more often now.

🌻 Lovingly giving you a tall and big sunflower on valentine's day

📖 Going to a library and peacefully being bookworms as you rest your head on his shoulder and he leans to your head.

Enjoyingly hearing him speak about his narrative of writing stories 24/7 a day, he accepts your opinions and criticism since he likes you being his listener or reader of his work more than anyone else.

(Gotta put the random modern au category right here): Lukas strongly dislikes horror movies, he would rather spend movie nights with you by watching the family-friendly or comedic-romantic genres. His favorites are obviously: Grease (1978 version), Bridge to Terabithia, and Tangled.

He will never let you out of his sight whenever there might be danger lurking around during the adventures you two would spend.

🌧 When it is raining that both of you forgot to bring an umbrella, you quickly jump to his back for a piggyback ride, and he hands you over his jacket to cover both of you. Then you shout, "Ok, let's go!" as he tries to run while screaming in sync to find shelter.

✧̣̇ . ⋆ ✶ ˖ · ˳ . ✦ . ˚⊹๑‧₊ ᘏ✧̣̇ . ⋆ ✶ ˖ · ˳ . ✦ . ˚⊹๑‧₊ ᘏ✧̣̇ . ⋆ ✶ ˖ · ˳ . ✦ . ˚

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Aku Cinta Dia - Chrisye

"Hati yang berbunga Pada pandangan pertama Oh Tuhan tolonglah Aku cinta, aku cinta dia."

"Flowering heart At first glance Oh God please I love, I love her."

[sawbathroomlovers]

Kinktober Day 18: Massaging (Peter Strahm x Reader)

A/N: Another Strahm piece here! It's very soft and somewhat domestic, and I love it. A little suggestive at the end. But seriously give this man a break. Anywho, expect something more smutty for day nineteen though! MINORS DNI, and y'all enjoy!

Warnings: Suggestive, swearing

Word Count: 480

“You’re so tense.”

Peter grunts below you, and his bare back flexes under your wandering hands. It wasn’t often you got him like this, what with him being so consumed by his work especially with the most recent break in the Jigsaw case. But you were right, he was extremely tense. That much was evident as you worked out the knots in his back and shoulders.

“You really need a break, honey.”

“Can’t.”

He rumbles out in response, the side of his face pressed against the pillow beneath his head. You click your tongue at that yet continue to massage him as your hands smooth across the expanse of skin before settling on his lower back. You shift your position to better reach the area, still straddling the backs of his legs in the process.

“We’re too close to figuring out the sick bastard behind the whole operation.”

Your thumbs rub firm circles into his lumbar region while you listen to him speak, softly humming despite how little you knew about the case. You heard enough from the news. That was one thing that Peter was stern about: keeping his work and personal life separate. 

“Still, I’m sure Lindsey would understand if you took some time off.”

A low sigh falls from Peter’s thin lips because as desperately as he wanted to take a break, that just wasn’t possible right now. Perez and him were too close to breaking the case for him to even think about letting up on it. But you understood, you always understood. As long as you two have been together, the late nights and long hours never seemed to bother you. Sure, you were concerned for his well being, but you knew his job was an important one. 

Peter had simply learned to take advantage of moments like these: the times where you were able to enjoy each other's presence and have your body pressed close against his, much like he had been missing these past couple of days especially. 

Your hands trail with feather-like touches up the middle of his back to his shoulders again, palms pressing against his shoulder blades to gently push against the firm muscles. A noise of contentment rumbles deep in his chest at that, and you smile.

“Feel good?”

You opt to change the subject, knowing that conversation prior would go nowhere. Besides, you wanted to enjoy the limited time you two had together.

“Very good…”

“You know what would feel even better?”

Peter’s eyelids flutter open, and he quirks an eyebrow as he glances over his shoulder at you. You give a grin down at him before reaching behind yourself to unclasp your bra. You toss the article of clothing to the side, and Peter can’t help but drink in your bare torso and breasts. He too then finds himself grinning.

“Yeah, I like the sound of that.”