#dude I used to play with these so much…..

[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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@chwesuh-imnida @megumisthirdog @imjustaweirdnerd @angelicscribe

[taglist is closed]

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 3)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3147

(Part 1) (Part 2)

_________________________________________

Rhysand’s face hurts.

His hands do, too, but the scrapes and splits in the skin of his knuckles have nothing on the cut in his lip, which currently stings from the rush of alcohol that passes over his lips.

It’s cold, crisp, and free, so it’s the best beer he’s had all night.

Hell, his cheek is bruised too. It’s not a Picasso of mottled yellows, greens, and purples yet—curtesy of the time he spent poking and prodding the knotted bump in one of the locker room mirrors, post shower.

The only thing that isn’t bruised is his ego because he more than won that fight against the Penguin’s center, Kallias Winterborough. He fucking wiped the ice with him and then proceeded to use the rest of his team to clean house.

Somewhere in the Hockey House—aptly named for the number of players that reside in the five-bedroom, two-story craftsman—you and his cousin meander around, violet Solo Cups in hand because the red ones are so overrated. Plus, one of their biggest rivals—the Foxes—wear crimson, and no one at Velaris University would ever be caught repping that team at one of his parties.

It's a move he’s regretting a little too much right now, unable to revel in the Bat’s big win with his lip split in two. Fucker got him good, he can admit, but never aloud. Cassian would never let him live it down and Azriel would shoot him a scathing glare at the mere mention of another school’s team under their roof.

Az takes his superstitions seriously.

“Rhys, dude.” Cassian stumbles in through the square arch connecting the spacious living room to the cozy kitchen. It’s the only thing Rhysand doesn’t like about the Hockey House: no open floorplan. That means, when he plays host as he so often does because he can’t afford a hangover from hell following most mornings, he can’t see what’s going on in the kitchen if he’s in the living room or vice versa.

He can’t see people sneaking up the stairs, and even though he keeps his room locked at all times following the Cassian Incident™ that included two leggy blondes and the Frozen Four first place trophy—announcing the next afternoon that blondes do, in fact, have more fun—he still doesn’t trust a horde of university students on a high from their win not to do anything stupid.

Speaking of stupid…Cassian slides to a halt beside him. He’s so eager to share whatever the hell with Rhys that he overshoots, slamming his hip into the counter. His friend howls, and much unto Rhys’ surprise, others join in, like it’s some kind of victory cry and not one that says ‘I just bashed my hip in, somebody help me, please.’

Rhysand is in no mood to help.

“What’s up, Cass?” Rhys sighs, frowning when he tips his bottle back to his mouth only to find it empty. He hadn’t realized how much he drank; thought he was nursing it with the way his lip burns.

Cassian’s face contorts from pain back to amused like a flick of a switch and the pain was long forgotten. His nose is permanently crooked from the number of times he’s broken it during fights both on and off the ice, and he’d be missing one of his pearly whites if he hadn’t just gotten it fixed earlier this week. Thankfully, his moustache has been shaved off for tonight, showing off his plump, pink lips. His brunet hair is the longest on the team, just brushing the tops of his massive shoulders, and thankfully. On one side, it’s tucked tightly behind his ear, showing off the gold ring he punched through it on a dare at their first party freshman year.

Cassian’s hazel eyes have a spark in them that 1: Rhys has seen too many times, and 2: never means anything good.

Rhysand narrows his own, breaking that eager contact to scour the kitchen for another beer because goddammit, he’s going to need it with the way his friend is all but shaking with excitement.

“Have you found your nurse yet?” Cassian asks, trailing him around the marble slab counter.

“My what?” Rhysand side-steps a couple making out so hard that they go crashing into the first thing that isn’t each other: the wall. The petite girl with bright blue hair whimpers loudly, and the noise is swallowed up by the guy that’s sticking his tongue straight down her windpipe.

It looks grosser than it seems, Rhys defends when a pang of want slaps him right in the chest.

“Your nurse, dude,” Cassian whines. He slips on a rogue wet patch on the obsidian floor tiles and now Rhysand has another thing to dislike in this house. All he needs is someone cracking their skull open on his kitchen floor or the couple to fall and have his teeth through her lips from the impact. “You know, cause you’re all injured.” He waves flippantly towards Rhysand’s wounds.

“I don’t need a nurse,” Rhys answers, confused. He pulls open the fridge and snags two beers off of the shelf Cassian and two of his other roommates have dedicated it to. He hands one to his friend, who pops the top off with his teeth, and Rhys raises an unimpressed brow. “I didn’t get that hurt.” Plus, he’s already been to see the team trainer for his shiners.

He busies himself with the beer opener that’s stuck to the side of the fridge, then grabs the roll of paper towels from their holder to wipe up the mess Cassian’s leaving footprints with. Well, he unrolls a few and tosses them onto the spill, anyway.

“No, I mean like a lady nurse.” Cassian waggles his brows. “Someone who can kiss you better, maybe even give you a hand—”

And, well, that might just help his mood.

“Hey.” Azriel breezes into the kitchen like he’s still on his skates. He has his own cup in hand, filled with water. Rhys know this because he’s never seen Azriel drink anything other than water and the occasional coffee. He takes his training more seriously than half of the team, which bodes well for Rhys because he always has a gym buddy, but sometimes, he wishes his friend would let loose, even if it meant seeing a girl. Or sleeping with one. “Heads up.”

The warning has Rhys standing straighter, ready to abandon his beer on the counter to play his role as captain and the one in charge of the party. His roommates naturally defer to him in house affairs because they’re used to it, but really, Rhys doesn’t have much more room in his packed schedule for warding off drunk students and stopping fights.

The last thing he needs tonight is to find himself in the middle of a fight.

“Rhys!” A perky blonde squeals, and his shoulders drop for a second only to tense right back up when his cousin throws herself into his arms.

He catches her with an oof, spitting out her wild locks that somehow always end up everywhere. He loves his cousin dearly, like a sister, but why is she here right now?

He doesn’t see you following your roommate into the kitchen, jaw slack like it’s been since you first saw the Hockey House lit up in all of its glory. The place is absolutely massive, it looks like it could rival one of the houses on Greek row.

The kitchen is moody yet warm. The dark tiles match the onyx-stained flat arch you just walked through. The lighter gray marble countertop brightens the room, and the deep blue cabinets paired with the soft lighting paints the room in perfect synchrony.

It’s absolutely stunning.

Neither of you see the other at first. Rhys because he’s still trying to blink Mor’s hair from his eyes and you because you’re entranced by the interior design of the home. There’s no way five boys could possibly live here, let alone five hockey players. It’s a bit of a mess with the party raging around you, yes, but you haven’t seen one hole in the drywall, not one forgotten dish nor a pair of boxers left of the bathroom floor—you checked.

Because you were using the restroom of course, you weren’t looking for that specific reason.

“Hey, Mor,” Rhys greets when she finally detaches herself from him. She doesn’t go far, only stepping back enough to introduce you to him. “What are you doing here?”

Violet eyes clash with yours, drawing your heart to a standstill. He looks just as good as he did when you were sprawled out on his chest: dark hair clean and mussed through, red lips parted as if the words he wants to say are stuck in his throat.

The only thing different about him now is that cut in his lip and the redness to his cheek from his fight on the ice that you bore witness to.

The memory replays in your mind again, awakening tingles in your body that shouldn’t be. And just how you’re praying for them not to, they converge right between your thighs, settling in nice and hot and begging for attention as the sight of him with burning violet eyes as he decks his opposition across the jaw replays.

It really shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, and he himself shouldn’t be as hot as he is, either.

You hold yourself still, focusing eighty percent on your attention on trying to calm your eager bits down and the other twenty percent on making sure you don’t look constipated while doing so.

Rhys blinks at you and you return his blank stare, watching, waiting to see if he recognizes you, too.

Oh, he does.

“We came to see your game tonight,” she says, as if it isn’t obvious from your attire. The attire that Rhys is currently dragging his eyes down, drinking in every inch—all four of them—of the jersey your roommate forced you into tonight. You watch his eyes flare as he reads the number across your chest. His number, you’re just now realizing.

Heat floods your cheeks but you’re unable to bolt like you so desperately want to. Your heart is beating three times as fast in your chest as he slowly, slowly, rakes his gaze up from your legs that are glued to the floor, all the way to your eyes, that are glued to his face.

“This is (Y/N),” Mor announces, gesturing to you with a flourish. When you make no move forward to greet them, her red nails curl around the hem of your jersey and yank.

You stumble forward, and the trance is broken. Unfortunately, so is your face, because you slip in something on the tiles and are plummeting face-first into the ground. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, lips parted to scream or groan, whichever your mind catches up to first—

The impact never comes. Strong hands grip your arms, stopping you from eating tile. You’re too stunned to speak, even when you’re planted back on your feet and staring into the chest you were lying on only this afternoon.

Rhysand Cunningham.

Jesus, you’re really going to have to stop saying his full name like that. It’s creepy.

“Easy now,” Rhys says, making sure you’re steady. You somehow find the courage to look him in the eyes, hastily tamping down the mortification that threatens to consume you.

As soon as your eyes lock, it’s like magic.

There’s no other way to describe whatever is happening between the two of you right now. His light touch is searing, and so are his eyes as he scans your face, making sure you’re not hurt.

Rhys’ abandoned beer sits precariously close to the edge of the counter, and Cassian accidentally knocks it off with his elbow when he dodges a playful swat Mor tosses his way. It goes crashing to the floor, startling you and Rhys from your trance.

You jump, gaze following the noise. Rhys’ hands slip from your body and you shiver at the cold that replaces him, even though it’s stifling in this house with the number of bodies packed into it. You manage one large step back that he doesn’t seem to notice because he’s already snatching the paper towels from where he put them last and barking at passerby to “be fucking careful.”

“I, uh,” you stutter, and holyfuckingshit, he’s leaning over to clean up the mess. You get a full view of that toned ass; despite the jeans he’s wearing. It’s perfect, round like an apple, juicy like one too, you bet. The sudden urge to lean over and sink your teeth into it hits you like a semi— “I need to use the bathroom.”

You scurry away from your roommate and her cousin like it’s your ass that’s just been bitten into.

Rhys grumbles the entire time he cleans up the spilt beer. Cassian tried to help, his chocolate eyes wide and sad, spouting off apologies like he did something much worse than break a fucking bottle, but hissed when he cut his thumb on a sharp edge. Rhys had pushed him away from the scene immediately after that.

He wonders if Cassian is going to bound off into the living room and find himself a nurse of his own, now.

“Hey, where did your friend go?” Rhys asks Mor who’s chewing on a cherry stem. He grimaces, not even knowing where those came from.

“Roommate,” Mor answers pointedly, serving him a harsh look that only confuses the hockey player.

“Okay…where did your roommate go?” He clarifies, eyes sweeping the room for you. Disappointment prickles at his skin just as much as the look his cousin is shooting him. He’d gotten his look at you alright, but he’s suddenly feeling like the single up-down he gave you was not nearly enough.

“To the bathroom,” she answers, rounding the counter, eyeing all of the opened bottles of liquor on top. She must not see anything she likes, because he doesn’t reach for anything. “Why?”

Why? Because you brought her here and I want to be nice? Rhys thinks. I want to get to know her, maybe somewhere private—

“I didn’t really get to introduce myself.” Is what he goes with.

Mor snorts, rolling her eyes because she is not falling for that one. “She’s off limits.”

“Then why did you bring her here?” Rhys blurts, unable to stifle the words before they slip out. Damn beer.

“Because we wanted to see your game,” Mor replies, watching her cousin closely.

If you wanted to see my game, you shouldn’t have warned me against your roommate, he thinks, and then cringes.

“Well, thanks for coming, cuz,” he offers, because there’s no good rhyme or reason to start arguing with her. Especially when both of their parents are just phone calls away.

He’d rather be getting the third degree from Mor than his mother, anyway.

Rhys swiftly changes the subject. “Hope you enjoyed me kicking some ass.”

Mor’s tight face melts into amusement. She laughs, tossing her head back on her shoulders. “Yeah, I really did enjoy that, actually.”

It’s at that exact moment that Rhys catches sight of you again. You’re caught halfway in the archway of the kitchen, presumably on your way back from the bathroom. Your lips are pulled into a smile as you giggle, and he wishes he could hear it over the gods-awful music. Your eyes are bright and he watches you brush a strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks pinkening with a blush that makes him wonder just who’s putting that look on your face.

Rhys takes one step to the left and his entire body begins boiling with heat when he catches sight of one of his players speaking to you.

If she’s off limits to me, then my players are off limits to her.

And that’s exactly what they are, too, players. Mor’s right, he can’t end up letting one of his teammates fuck around with you, not when you’re so close to his cousin. She’d be devastated if you got hurt, and fuck it, he would too. He’d kill one of his guys if they broke your heart.

Rhys doesn’t talk sense into himself as he stalks your way, doesn’t think about the repercussions or his actions when he slides up to your side, all rigid muscles and sharp looks.

“What do we have here?” he asks, drawing you away from the friendly conversation you were having with the handsome hockey player about the types of tapes and casts that can be used when treating different injuries.

It’s James Attor, from your Athletic Training Techniques class. You’d recognized him, but didn’t know he played for the Velaris hockey team. He’s a sophomore like you, and more interested in the injuries part of his sport than the actual scoring.

“Oh, hey, Cap,” James greets, shrinking under the scrutinizing gaze of his team leader. He knows that look, it’s the one Rhys gets before he’s about to lose his mind on the ice. “I was just talking to (Y/N) about—”

“About nothing,” Rhys finishes for him, and you frown. What the hell is his problem?

“James, wait,” you call, but it’s too late, he’s already slipped into the crowd of people dancing in the middle of the living room, and you don’t have supervision to see through them.

Whirling around on your heel, you glare up at Rhys. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Rhys asks, striding back towards the kitchen. You decide that playing stupid doesn’t look good on him. And neither does that split lip.

You can’t believe you wanted to get closer. For a better look at his wounds, of course.

“That!” You exclaim, throwing your arm out and pointing where you were just standing. It serves no purpose because Rhys isn’t facing you, which only stokes your anger further. “I was talking to him!”

“Yeah,” he rounds on his feet so fast you don’t even see it coming and for the second time today, you run smack dab into the middle of his chest.

This time, you don’t tumble into a pile of limbs.

You blink, dumbfounded.

“And I’d prefer it if you don’t,” Rhys finishes, chest tight. He feels on edge at the way your body pressed up against his, like lightning in his veins. He grits his teeth, willing the feeling to go away.

“Yeah,” you scoff, tossing him your best glare. You cross your arms over your chest for effect, but all it does is make that skimpy shirt you’re wearing ride up more, and both Rhys’ eyes and throat catch at the sight of your creamy skin. Your word sounds like a threat when you say, “Unlikely.”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd

[noobsoconfusing]

pathetic lover_hamzahthefantastic

he’s quite literally a romantic at the heart, always playing this stupid tough guy game on camera, but oh, oh how different he is when the lenses are off.

it’s the way he begs, or how he is so fucking touch starved. maybe even the way he whines like a kicked dog. hamzah is tired, so so so tired of putting up an act, in reality he is just pathetic, always waiting for a command, for anything he can do to obey, to be good. to receive a praise, a touch, attention, affection.

he doesn’t even care, please just give him something, he needs you and is willing to take anything you give him. please, he’s not picky. hamzah would try so hard, so so so so hard to be good, to make you proud, to make you smile and to make you satisfied.

it’s almost comical how stupid he is for you, how down bad he can get. and to be fair, it’s understandable the craving for your approval, for your attention and time…

he has never had anyone like you –or anyone at all–, you care, you love and you give him everything he needs, just like he does with you.

so if you’re away, maybe at college, or working, or just doing groceries, he would just spam your messages because he needs you, and he needs to know if you need him too.

‘need you’

‘when are you coming back?’

‘i miss you y/n…’

‘can you come home early today?’

‘cats and i miss you a lot btw if you even care..’

‘baby please i miss you just come hoooome!!’

‘ive been good btw’

‘want me to make u dinner? want to order anything?’

he’s so stupid, he’s literally like a puppy following you around everywhere you go. whining when you leave his side for more than 0.3 seconds.

feels physical pain whenever you raise your voice at him or ignore him –which you never really do but hey, there’s been times– and apologises so so so much it’s so fucking worrying how much he says sorry even if you’re not mad at all.

dude is so down bad he would steal your clothes and use them to get off, just inhaling your scent and imagining you’re right there helping him up, so fucking embarrassing how quickly he cums at the thought of you alone..

probably the type to audible whimper when you accidentally touch his body while doing anything not sex related too.. do not blame him though he’s just super fucking touch starved :(

if hamzah could, he would throw himself flat on the ground like a rug so you didn’t have to walk on it, man is entirely whipped, his brain shuts off whenever he is with you.

>_<

this is just a recurring thought i have 0_0 it’d be cool if someone elaborated on it idk i just had to get it off my chest… also just an excuse to write sub hamzah cuz uhhhh yeah..

[savebatsfromscratch]

Hey hey! I just finished a ridiculously complicated and long UQuiz about fandoms! Please take it! :D

I put my heart and soul into this PLEASE play it!! I like sharing stuff I like, it's fun I promise. <3

Edit: This is kinda aimed a little at whump enjoyers btw, not entirely but a decent bit. Warning for swearing, possible spoilers for any/all included fandoms, vaguely mentioned drug use in one answer to one question, and violence. (Fictional.)

Included fandoms: Shark Wars, Warrior Cats, Pokemon Adventures, Pokemon Diamond and Pearl Adventure, Hetalia, Percy Jackson, Gameknight999, Scratchcraft, the Pokemon Anime (with Ash as the protagonist), How to Train Your Dragon (books), How to Train Your Dragon (movies and shows), Spiderwicks Chronicles, and The Monkees.

Look under the cut for the "awnsers" to each question (after taking the quiz) if you want some context. XD This took me forever! (Warning, doing this will make this post very long.)

1. When your story gets serious, what do you want from it? 1. Pokemon DPA: A deeper meaning that gets the author in WAY over their head. 2. Warrior Cats: A deeper meaning that could be taken the exact wrong way if you so chose to. 3. Gameknight999: A deeper meaning that was probably not intentional. 4. Shark Wars: A deeper meaning that is mentioned explicitly once or twice and then never added to again. 5. Pokespe: A deeper meaning that needs a little thinking to make any god damn sense at all. 6. Pokeani: A deeper meaning that only seems to show up in half-canon material. 7. Spiderwicks: A deeper meaning that doesn't seem to have any actual bearings in reality. 8. HTTYD Books: A deeper meaning that CATCHES YOU OFF GAURD. LIKE, FUCK DUDE- 9. Scratchcraft: A deeper meaning that is pretty obvious if you ignore the fact that it doesn't actually exist. 10. Hetalia: A deeper meaning that is questionable at best. 11. Percy Jackson: A deeper meaning that hits really hard when you start growing up. 12. HTTYD movies: A deeper meaning that was better done somewhere else but I still cried. 13. The Monkees: A deeper meaning that just barely made it past the censors, and it as true to the real world as it could ever aim to be.

2. What do you want out of a protagonist? 1. Pokemon DPA: Overpowered. Also bites people on the ass. 2. Warrior Cats: I like to switch things up as the media progresses. :3 3. Gameknight999: Really traumatized but you wouldn't guess that at all from the concept of the story. 4. Shark Wars: Edgy but in a cringe way. 5. Pokespe: I like to switch things up as the media progresses. >:) 6. Pokeani: I can't tell if he's aroace or gay God Bless America. 7. Spiderwicks: I don't care. As long as they're in SOME SORT of a family- 8. HTTYD Books: Cursed by the repetition of history. 9. Scratchcraft: I want to pick my protagonist thank you very much. 10. Hetalia: Immortal, but silly. 11. Percy Jackson: Badass who everyone is scared of, but, like, they're so nice. :") 12. HTTYD movies: The more the merrier! 13. The Monkees: Someone funny, and maybe a little bit high.

3. What kind of antagonist really gets you going? 1. Pokemon DPA: Manipulators. 2. Warrior Cats: Just a little guy. :3 they kill people Just a little guy- 3. Gameknight999: At least a little edgy, preferably have motivations that don't make any sense. 4. Shark Wars: Kinda horny for no reason. lowkey 5. Pokespe: Utterly insane most of the time. 6. Pokeani: Idiots and/or common criminals. 7. Spiderwicks: Big scary beasts are good! Smart ones too! 8. HTTYD Books: Tumblr sexyman in a not-not-very-hot way. 9. Scratchcraft: Lowkey I could probably beat them up. 10. Hetalia: It's kinda weird to think of anyone as an antagonist. :( 11. Percy Jackson: Yeah. This guy would kill me and laugh about it. 12. HTTYD movies: Animal poachers are my favorite! 13. The Monkees: Is an antagonist really necessary? (Or is it the producer… hmm)

4. Pick a creature please! 1. Pokemon DPA: EXTREMLY overpowered magic penguin. 2. Warrior Cats: Cat who is cat-racist 3. Gameknight999: Minecraft wolf! 4. Shark Wars: Shark who is shark-racist 5. Pokespe: Traumatized rodent. 6. Pokeani: A weirdly athletic rodent 7. Spiderwicks: Fairies! 8. HTTYD Books: Dragon! (Sentient edition) 9. Scratchcraft: Cod God 10. Hetalia: A sentient piece of food. 11. Percy Jackson: Black Pegasus. 12. HTTYD movies: Dragon! (Pet cat editon) 13. The Monkees: Hmm... Monkee...

5. Pick an epic quote from one of the pieces of media in question. 1. Pokemon DPA: "I'm fine with being stupid!" 2. Warrior Cats: "Kill me. Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you won." 3. Gameknight999: “You can only do what you believe you can do. I can do this,” 4. Shark Wars: “Let’s get you back where you belong before you catch your death.” 5. Pokespe: “If you can only achieve a dream by being deceitful, using others, and crushing their own hopes, that’s not called a dream, it’s called an ambition.” 6. Pokeani: "I see now that the circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant. It is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are." 7. Spiderwicks: "We call them 'fairy tales' for a reason, you know. They're not real." 8. HTTYD Books: “We're all snatching precious moments from the peaceful jaws of time.” 9. Scratchcraft: "Goodbye everybody! I'm going to the sky!" (Storm, S2E30) 10. Hetalia: “It seems as if Americans like to be the center of attention even after they're dead.” 11. Percy Jackson: "If my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself," 12. HTTYD movies: "I wouldn't kill him, because he looked as frightened as I was. I looked at him… and I saw myself," 13. The Monkees: "If, uh, people say well, I can’t carry a note, I can’t, I can’t say, I can’t sing, I, I’m tone deaf. But nobody’s tone deaf, and if you love music, then you can play music."

6. How much violence are you feeling like looking at? 1. Pokemon DPA: The real fear happens when the comic relief finally stops. 2. Warrior Cats: Somehow the worst part is that hardly anyone seems to notice something is wrong. 3. Gameknight999: It's a game, but only to half of the participants in the conflict. 4. Shark Wars: Oh, that's torture and mass killings graphically detailed in a children's book, okay. 5. Pokespe: The blood was censored, but somehow you know it's there. 6. Pokeani: It's all fun and games until somebody randomly drops dead. 7. Spiderwicks: Everything is totally fine mom! My sister DIDN'T just get kidnapped by the fae! I promise! 8. HTTYD Books: Ultimately, it's never the violence that truly hurts, but the fact that you know it will happen again and again, and all you can do is try and make things marginally better while you are still here, crawling through the mud. 9. Scratchcraft: You get to choose how real any of this is. 10. Hetalia: A comedy with an underlying truth of extreme violence and war and the realization that none of these people can be friends forever. 11. Percy Jackson: Somehow we always seem to push through. ̶u̶n̶t̶i̶l̶ ̶w̶e̶ ̶c̶a̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶a̶n̶y̶m̶o̶r̶e̶ 12. HTTYD movies: We will always keep fighting! (But there comes a time that sometimes fighting the good fight is not actually the good fight anymore.) 13. The Monkees: It entirely depends if we're talking about slapstick comedy or the real deal here. (If you look too deep you'll find both.)

7. How do you like your fandoms. 1. Pokemon DPA: I'm fine with a small fandom. I'm not bothered by the bones of a (slightly) bigger one. 2. Warrior Cats: This fandom feels like being surrounded by a pack of wolves! thumbs down 3. Gameknight999: I have never been in a worse fandom. Seriously. Imagine being in a fandom of twelve yearolds on WATTAPAD that then transitions to DISCORD. This is what Hell feels like. (And I'm Catholic.) /pos I luv you guys but STILL 4. Shark Wars: Literally no other person in the whole world is perfect for me. :3 (PLEASE JOIN ME. PLEASE. HELP!) 5. Pokespe: This fandom feels like being surrounded by a pack of wolves! thumbs up 6. Pokeani: Most god awful takes you've ever seen because half the people here don't even like the content and the other half are eight years old. 7. Spiderwicks: What fandom? 8. HTTYD Books: When the fandom is just the size that you can't argue with each other over media or you'll fall apart. ok symbol 9. Scratchcraft: Tight knit fandoms on almost exclusively Discord and a children's coding website are good enough for me! 10. Hetalia: Honestly, I love the discourse. I'M SORRY I KNOW, I JUST- gets jumped 11. Percy Jackson: The memes are so unfunny it feels like it's stuck in the 2000s. 12. HTTYD movies: I don't even care if half the fandom is crossovers with unrelated fandoms, I want to have fun! 13. The Monkees: Pretty big and dedicated, once you get there. (Might have to sort through the graves of 2014 first though.)

8. If you were my mutual in this fandoms (HYPOTHETICALLY) what sort of content of fandom stuff do you like from a mutual. 1. Pokemon DPA: This whump fic is NOT weird, I promise! (>:3) 2. Warrior Cats: Whump fics every october. thumbs up 3. Gameknight999: 1 (one) 66,000+ word crossover fic and basically nothing else. 4. Shark Wars: Stupid meme edits. 5. Pokespe: Memes? ? Gore? ? Animating the same scene eight times? Yep 6. Pokeani: Uh… I did a ship week once? 7. Spiderwicks: Fancontent? glups 8. HTTYD movies: 80 billion reblogs once in a blue moon 9. Scratchcraft: Fanart that has absolutely no relation to canon. 10. Hetalia: The occasional shitty animation. 11. Percy Jackson: Old art posting. 12. HTTYD books: Gore art of everyone's favorite buff teenager <3 13. The Monkees: Literally over 1000 reblogs in two weeks, and then shutting up for a month.

9. (Sorry if that last question almost made you click away lol.) Now, pick a SILLY quote completely out of context! :D (And further apologizes if none of them are funny out of context. lmao) 1. Pokemon DPA: "Nah…he probably started a rock band! He's got the hairdo for it!" 2. Warrior Cats: "Okay, I'll bring back your stupid stick. Keep your fur on." 3. Gameknight999: "Theres another sign, it says…COM?" 4. Shark Wars: "It was not a good whammo. Not good at all." 5. Pokespe: "I wish [corporation name] would have a lot of customers. Preferably a hundred thousand people on the first day," 6. Pokeani: "I'll use my trusty frying pan as a drying pan!" 7. Spiderwicks: "It just figured that Mom would get back from the store NOW." 8. HTTYD Books: "…she had once stunned a stag with one blow of her mighty bosoms, and many a smaller animal had suffocated in their stern depths." 9. Scratchcraft: "SLAM DUNK!" misses horrifically (Storm, S2E30) 10. Hetalia: "YOU PEED ON THE FLOOR??!?!" 11. Percy Jackson: "Tremble before the horror of Diet Coke!”" 12. HTTYD movies: "I knew it. I'm dead!" 13. The Monkees: "Nobody even lends money to a man with a sense of humor!"

10. Pick a piece of an "outfit" 1. Pokemon DPA: A hairclip made with the symbol of a cult which brainwashed you 2. Warrior Cats: A cat collar. It's broken. 3. Gameknight999: Diamond leggings 4. Shark Wars: Tattoos put in place with sea urchin spines 5. Pokespe: Electricity proof (yet fingerless) gloves 6. Pokeani: An extremely rare baseball cap obtained by mailing in cereal box tops obsessively 7. Spiderwicks: A dress made by dwarves 8. HTTYD Books: A torn fire-proof suit (you must wear it to battle) 9. Scratchcraft: Red shirt with a watermelon (with a face) on the back. :) 10. Hetalia: Combat boots with questionable origins 11. Percy Jackson: A silver skull ring 12. HTTYD movies: A wing suit with a partially broken spring 13. The Monkees: Green wool hat.

11. Choose a location a protagonist (or perspective character) finds themselves 1. Pokemon DPA: A building rigged to explode, the only exits have malfunctioned 2. Warrior Cats: A dark forest. Bones crunch underfoot. 3. Gameknight999: A room full of gunpowder, lava sparks awfully close by 4. Shark Wars: Enemy territory, bodies float down around you 5. Pokespe: The rift of time, memories that you do not know fly by 6. Pokeani: A sunken ship on the bottom of the ocean, it is quickly filling with water 7. Spiderwicks: A dumbwaiter, it stops in a entirely closed off room 8. HTTYD Books: The mast of a sinking ship, lightning burns through the air 9. Scratchcraft: A mermaid gladiator arena, who needs to be serious? :3 10. Hetalia: An empty box of tomatoes, gunshots ring outside 11. Percy Jackson: A place so evil that you are too mortal to process it's true horror 12. HTTYD movies: The beach, making your final stand against someone you used to love 13. The Monkees: A large black box.

12. Choose an experience a protagonist has endured. 1. Pokemon DPA: You feel yourself begin to cry. No matter how evil this person is, you cannot help but forgive them. When will they understand? 2. Warrior Cats: You stand alone, suddenly in complete darkness. Overwhelmed by shame, you realize it is better for them all to think you are dead. 3. Gameknight999: You stand on a thin path under the world, your greatest enemy with a pickaxe in his hands. 4. Shark Wars: You find yourself in the deepest trench in the ocean as you are pulled down by a weight you cannot remove. 5. Pokespe: Ice freezes around you, crackling slowly up your arms as you scream for help. No one comes. 6. Pokeani: You feel your soul slowly begin to dissipate as your body turns to stone. 7. Spiderwicks: Your body shakes, skin burning as poison touches it. You lift your foot, revealing what is left of something you should have loved. 8. HTTYD Books: You have been kidnaped, and finally, your letter to your mother has been returned. You reach your skinny arms through the bars of your prison window to unravel the paper. You can't help but wonder what wonderfully army she might have sent to rescue you. What do you find? A resounding "No," you must save yourself after all. 9. Scratchcraft: Lightning rains down around you, but you smile. It's finally time to join the other gods in the sky. The people you once loved are nothing but shadows to you now. 10. Hetalia: You lock yourself in your room. Days, weeks, months, and years pass you by, but even three centuries of knowing your fate cannot prevent it from occurring. 11. Percy Jackson: As a person able to breath underwater, you are yanked into unfamiliar waves, for the first time ever, you know what it is like to drown. 12. HTTYD movies: The beautiful creature before you lays it's head on the earth, giving up. Your hands shake and the dagger falls to the ground. 13. The Monkees: You stagger through the desert, but when you have finally found a vending machine, standing there atop a drifting hill of sand, it doesn't give you what you wanted.

13. Pick another quote that made me feel emotions. (Side note, the HTTYD books series especially has a lot of great quotes. Just some unfair propaganda from me. :3 Can't be TOO serious can we?) 1. Pokemon DPA: "You're no big bad war machine? Y'know how I know that? … You're crying." 2. Warrior Cats: “My curse is to live forever, knowing what has been and what has yet to be, powerless to change anything.” 3. Gameknight999: “Sometimes we have to reach a little farther than we can, be a little stronger than we are, and do things that we normally wouldn’t be able to, because we must, to take care of those we love,” 4. Shark Wars: "You're a murderer!" "A realist," 5. Pokespe: "No matter how much I reach out to the brightness of the outside world… the darkness keeps dragging me back. No matter how hard I try, I never get to enjoy my freedom," 6. Pokeani: "We do have a lot in common. The same earth, the same air, the same sky. Maybe if we started looking at what's the same instead of always looking at what's different… well, who knows?" 7. Spiderwicks: "Don't you know me? Am I not your own self?" 8. HTTYD Books: "You, dear reader, I am sure cannot imagine what it might to be like to live in a world in which books are banned. For surely such things will never happen in the Future?" 9. Scratchcraft: "I'm am not smart and I should not have done that. Ha hA- Hope I didn't loose everything I own." (Saltyy) 10. Hetalia: "When I look into all of your stupid faces, I think how fun it will be to pound them into dust." 11. Percy Jackson: “Don't feel bad, I'm usually about to die.” 12. HTTYD movies: "A man will never how far he's willing to go until he steps to the edge and looks down" 13. The Monkees: "Um. Kidnapping man."

14. Window shopping! Pick a "iconic" cover/thumbnail with the name of the series cropped out! 1. Pokemon DPA: [A picture of the cover of the seventh book. It shows Hareta, Koya, Heataran, and Shaymin. It is mostly red.) 2. Warrior Cats: [A picture of the cover of Into The Wild. It shows an orange cat with green eyes among blades of sharp green grass.] 3. Gameknight999: [A cover of a book showing Gameknight brandishing a sword at a red Enderman. It looks weirdly off model for a minecraft book cover.] 4. Shark Wars: [A picture of the cover of the first book showing a very blue shark (Gray) with a smaller a green one (Barkley) next to him. There are others in the background. It is mostly blue.] 5. Pokespe: [A picture of the cover of book three in the Red and Blue arch. It shows Red and his pikachu Pika, as well as a few of his other Pokemon along the side. The background is green.] 6. Pokeani: [Part of a Poster showing Ash, Misty, Brock, and a whole lot of Pokemon. The background is white.] 7. Spiderwicks: [A picture of the first cover. It shows the three main characters looking down at a book with very different expressions. The drawing is brown tinted, but the area around it is blue.] 8. HTTYD Books: [A picture of one of the covers of How To Betray a Dragon's Hero, it shows Hiccup being carried above a lake by a red dragon.] 9. Scratchcraft: [The cover of StormLordZeus' final episode of season two. He is an armored minecraft man with glowing purple eyes floating in a lightning storm.] 10. Hetalia: [The cover of the first book in the series. It shows Italy, Germany, and japan on a white background.] 11. Percy Jackson: [The first cover of the first book. it shows a boy trudging towards New York City through the ocean, a golden sword in his hand. It is stormy.] 12. HTTYD movies: [A poster for the first movie. It shows a large black dragon (Toothless) reaching his nose out to touch Hiccup's outstretched hands. There is a wide moon in the background.] 13. The Monkees: [A screenshot from the Daydream Believer music video. Peter is playing piano, Davy is behind him, singing, Mike is playing guitar above them, and Micky is on the other side, also singing and playing tambourine. The room is rainbow striped.]

15. This quiz is all over the place, isn't it. Whatever. Time to pick the sort of media you would like to enjoy your chosen franchise/series in. 1. Pokemon DPA: A short(-ish) and sweet manga series. 2. Warrior Cats: It is critical that these books must have as many mistakes as possible. Also, there must be a LOT of them. 3. Gameknight999: Books where you eventually start wondering if the author proofread this stuff at all /pos 4. Shark Wars: Vaguely obscure children's books 5. Pokespe: A really fricking long manga series 6. Pokeani: This anime is WAY too long. 7. Spiderwicks: A short series of thin, but aesthetically pleasing books 8. HTTYD Books: Some surprisingly chunky books with a cool font! 9. Scratchcraft: Youtube videos where most of the series is deleted :( 10. Hetalia: Anything I can get my hands on. A webcomic, an anime, music, more than one musical for some reason, etc… 11. Percy Jackson: A book series that has several levels of optional other series to read with it :D 12. HTTYD movies: Movies and a whole lot of optional episodes if you want them 13. The Monkees: A two season TV sitcom from the 60s, a movie, several books from the people involved, and several albums of varying quality.

16. Pick a silly story I've had happen in relation to these stupid things. 1. Pokemon DPA: I thought it was a different series. Like, I picked it up and thought I was reading a different book series than I was. 2. Warrior Cats: I stayed up ALL NIGHT at Girl Scout Camp reading one of the books a few into a section of the series that I have never read before or since. 3. Gameknight999: I associate the smell of magazines with this fandom now, unfortunately. 4. Shark Wars: For some reason I could not find book two. Like. For four years. Why. I found everything else almost at once. What about book two makes it impossible to find. 5. Pokespe: I made it my mission to read through the entire series in a month every summer through middle AND high school. 6. Pokeani: My mother constantly apologizes for letting me watch this show. It's great. 7. Spiderwicks: On a four hour car trip, the only thing I brought to do was read this book. I get car sick when I read in a car. 8. HTTYD Books: When I was in like second grade I accidentally left one of the books out in the pouring rain at an aunt's house. It survived, shockingly. 9. Scratchcraft: I'm a thumbnail artist??? Idk how that happened woah 10. Hetalia: My friend and I were out watching this show in the middle of winter. She got minor frostbite. I wasn't even cold. skull 11. Percy Jackson: I read the first book instead of having Thanksgiving dinner with my family. It wasn't on purpose. Nobody could find me and I was too busy reading to notice how much time was passing until everyone was already gone and there wasn't food left. 12. HTTYD movies: This and Das Boot Directors Cut are my favorite things to watch on the TV. Yeah. 13. The Monkees: I was very upset in college and I prayed for any sort of distraction to make me feel better. A day later, I got so hyperfixated on this fandom that I could not think about anything BUT the fandom and began alternating between squeaking in joy and sobbing for about three days straight.

17. Thank God that's over! Woah, speaking of Him, pick an afterlife! (If there is no such thing in the series in question, I picked the next closest thing that appears in the media.) 1. Pokemon DPA: Chunks of earth float in the twisted sky. Somewhere you cannot see, a shadowy creature roars. 2. Warrior Cats: A life just like yours, but none of you can grow anymore. 3. Gameknight999: It doesn't apply. My code will be gone before I get there. 4. Shark Wars: A sparkling ocean, uncannily blue and full of voices, but calm. 5. Pokespe: Time is paused here. Music floats through your ears. 6. Pokeani: Not sure. Every time I die, I seem to come back. I guess it'll be a surprise? 7. Spiderwicks: Suspended in time on the back of a magical creature. If I reach down to touch the ground, I will finally disappear. 8. HTTYD Books: My death doesn't matter. What matters is what I do in my life. 9. Scratchcraft: A comedically timed Minecraft "YOU DIED" screen. 10. Hetalia: Well, I'm not ever going to die, first of all. 11. Percy Jackson: You have to be a hero to even remember living once you get there. 12. HTTYD movies: Presumably Valhalla? 13. The Monkees: Can't. The writers won't let it end. (They crushed it anyway.)

18. What "bad end" would you like to be a very easy possibility in something you read? 1. Pokemon DPA: The world has been restarted, made into something devoid of love and emotions. But you'll never live to see it, in fact, it's as if you've never lived at all. 2. Warrior Cats: A horrible drought robs a society of water, slowly, they all wither away. 3. Gameknight999: The virus bleeds out of the game, infecting the real world turning it into a nightmare. 4. Shark Wars: A horrible emperor takes over the entire world, cannibalizing or enslaving anyone who stands in his way. 5. Pokespe: The protagonist stays frozen, and unfortunately, the second follows in his footsteps. There is no one to stop change now. 6. Pokeani: A creature beyond all of humanity has decided that people do not deserve to live free. 7. Spiderwicks: The fae continue killing, families are lost to their power, the town twists, crackling into the trash heap at its center. 8. HTTYD Books: As they say, "If it doesn't end well, then it isn't the end!" 9. Scratchcraft: [I've got nothing. Honestly. I don't know how I've managed anything serious so far. Feel free to pick this if you don't like the other options lol.] 10. Hetalia: Well. Honestly. The whole thing kind of feels like a bad end? 11. Percy Jackson: The Old Ones take over again. There is nothing but suffering for humanity now. 12. HTTYD movies: Everything will continue just as it was. 13. The Monkees: Well. The band broke up.

19. Okay, if there are any fandoms you DO NOT WANT to be recommended, speak you peace now. (This will give you one point for every other fandom. Picking "no," will give you one point for everything, to even them out.) 1-13: [self explanatory]

20. One more question! Time to pick your own. >^w^< 1. Pokemon DPA: If you had the choice to, would you forgive the man who hurt you so badly? 2. Warrior Cats: If you had to break the rules to find your true place, would you do it? 3. Gameknight999: If a day for you was 72 days for your friends, how often would you visit? 4. Shark Wars: If you were a fish, would you eat another fish if they asked you to very nicely? 5. Pokespe: If you had to conceal your true self if it meant love from others, would you do it? 6. Pokeani: Would you pick ̶c̶h̶a̶r̶m̶a̶n̶d̶e̶r̶,̶ ̶s̶q̶u̶i̶r̶t̶l̶e̶,̶ ̶b̶u̶l̶b̶a̶s̶a̶u̶r̶, or pikachu? 7. Spiderwicks: If you were to find out faries were real, would you put your life on the line in order to see them? 8. HTTYD Books: Do you believe that it can ever get better? 9. Scratchcraft: If you were a god, would you play a quick board game before ascending? 10. Hetalia: If you were to live forever, would you take it seriously? 11. Percy Jackson: If you had the choice to life forever or be a target for the rest of your life, would you take the offer? 12. HTTYD movies: Will you keep fighting? 13. The Monkees: "Hey! Who turned on the dark?"

Fandom descriptions:

Shark Wars: Hm. Did you get kicked out of YOUR Shiver too?? Shark Wars is a book series by EJ Altbacker which goes through increasingly violent and terrible events in the lives of the main characters, all while aiming at a relatively young audience. It's one of those series that takes like thirty minutes to want to start reading the book (even as it's in your hands), but once you do, you literally can't put it down. Truly a masterpiece, if I, the only Shark Wars fan on the planet, can convince you. I highly recommend this series! It's a lot of fun! (Don't worry about the Shark Magic, it's martial arts if they say it is.)

Warrior cats: May all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather before highrock for a clan meeting! Warrior Cats is a book series written by a group of authors who, together, go by Erin Hunter. It follows the lives of a whole lot of cats, and it does so in a way that is shockingly gripping (and, let's face it, a little ridiculous), frankly, you couldn't really ask for a better middle school friend group roleplay. About a million characters, and about a million ways to interpret them… purrfect. (sorry) (The moon pool sure is cold at this time of night.)

Pokespe: The power of the Viridian Forest has bestowed upon you the ability to read something real good. The Pokemon Adventures (or Pokemon Special) manga is a very long running manga series written by Hidenori Kusaka. It currently goes from the Red and Blue games ALLL the way to Scarlet and Violet, and it does a great job too! It's characters are original and three dimensional (despite being based on game counterparts), and it's plots can be completely unexpected, even for someone who played the original games. I highly encourage getting into these series, or at least reading up to the third book. It's a lot of fun. Yes. We KNOW about the Arbok already, stop mentioning it!! Why do you think we're here!??!?

Pokemon DPA: …do you want to meet a god- Pokemon Diamond and Pearl Adventure is an eight book series by manga author and artist Shigekatsu Ihara. It centers around the travels of Hareta as he makes his way through the Sinnoh region. Very fast paced and with slightly odd humor, you may wonder why I like it so much, and to that I have to tell you that it is, in fact, my FAVORITE Pokemon media. I know. A little ridiculous. But who can blame me? The art, character designs, and story are all really good, and the action is nothing to scoff at. If you like something silly, just a wee bit violent, and a lot of fun, give this series a try! I could really use a friend in this fandom. XD We don't mind being a little stupid here. :3

Hetalia: Oh boy, here we are. Hetalia is a controversial manga, anime, and musical franchise started by Hidekaz Himaruya. It is a satirical telling of various points in history through humanized versions of the counties. It is absolutely not everyone's cup of tea, but it helped me to better understand (and find interest in) history, and if you like satire and historical situations, this may be the place for you. Uh… Make pasta not war?

Percy Jackson: Well. I didn't ASK to be a half blood. (And I guess neither did you.) Percy Jackson (which hardly needs an introduction) was originally a book series by Rick Riordan, and has since expanded into a (not very well liked) movie series, and a show, as well as many other connected series. Despite this, the original book series is by far my favorite, and if you are looking for something that is very funny, and very violent, it is the way to go. Have fun demigod! (PS: I think I saw the upstairs window glow, did you see that?)

Gameknight999: Ah. I see, you got hit with the digitalizer too! The Gameknight999 series is an unofficial "isekai" Minecraft novel series by Mark Cheverton. It can be considered childish, and most often found in book fairs at elementary schools, but it can have a much darker tone if you want to look into it. The fandom itself for this book series came at a difficult time in my life, and though I am unable to determine whether the fandom was an overall net positive or negative for me, the books were definitely a positive. They inspired creativity and community, while also being objectively hilarious in concept. Come, let's hold hands and frolic through our computer screens together. :)

Scratchcraft: Welcome new Scratcher! Click the "create" button to make a new project. :3 Scratchcraft is a Minecraft SMP that is currently in it's fourth season. What is interesting about this SMP, however, is that it was started on the website Scratch.mit.edu, and, also, that it is not very active. While the content itself in this fandom is few and far between, the community is incredible once you get your footing in it. The member who currently uploads the most goes by "StormLordZeus" on Youtube and went by "haunted_enderman" on Scratch. (His Minecraft skin is pictured in the result image above.) And NO, you can't ask to join Scratchcraft.

Pokeani: Sorry you woke up late, we've just got a Pikachu left! Oh well, no matter. The Pokemon Anime (starring Ash Ketchum as the lead character) was an anime that lasted for 25 years across 26 seasons and several movies. It is not my favorite Pokemon Media, but it is still one of my favorite fandoms of all time due to it's cast, great range of amazing to hilariously bad animation (only sparingly), and episodic nature. If you are looking for something fun that you can pretty much jump into whenever, the Pokemon Anime may be the right fit for you! Enjoy your journey, you hopeful Pokemon Master!

How To Train Your Dragon (movies and shows): Welcome to dragon training! The How To Train Your Dragon movies and shows were based on a wonderful series of the same name, but quickly fell completely off the mark. You may think, because I personally prefer the books, that this means that the movies are bad in some way. Absolutely not! Without spoilers, the first How To Train Your Dragon movie is my favorite movie of all time, and the second it's really all that far behind it. If you want something with incredible music, a great story, and a really nice message (not even to mention the characters and animation) try out at LEAST the first movie, and start branching out from there if it hooks you in like it did me. And, yeah, if you see that Night Fury, I heard pretty much everyone is looking for it.

Spiderwicks Chronicals: Must've taken the dumbwaiter up here huh? The Spiderwicks Chronicles is a short book series made by Holly Black and Tony DiTerlizzi. I must admit that I do not often post about this series, but despite that, it is one of my favorite fantasy series I have ever read. It's short, sweet, and very depressing when it wants to be. If that kind of thing sounds up your alley, who knows! Maybe someone just like you could encourage me and others to show more interest as well. (Don't forget to get some fairy bathwater in your eyes on the way out. Sorry if that's gross, it's kinda important.)

How To Train Your Dragon (books): Well, suffering swordfish, you've found your way here. The How To Train Your Dragon books series is a twelve book series by Cressida Cowell that follows Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third and his friends as they go on wacky misadventures through the Barbaric Archipelago. At least, it is until the true extent of everything becomes clearer and clearer. If you want something that becomes surprisingly serious (while still remaining rather funny), and is incredible and exciting all the way through, try on these books for size. Isn't fate artistic?

The Monkees: Hey hey! We're the Monkees fandom! Some people say we Monkee around! The Monkees was a 1966 show about four people who wanted to be a band, but it was also a band made up of four people who wanted to be in a band. Depending on what you want, this fandom can provide you from anything from sitcom antics, to Real Person Fiction, to a really weird movie. -and of course, save the Texas Prairie Chicken.

[sun-ea-sports]

I forgot how many Shopkins I own

[kacievvbbbb]

You know what? the best supernatural spin off would have nothing to do with the Winchesters and instead would be about Samuel motherfucking Colt because dude absolutely had something going on. And was tripping absolute balls all the fucking time

Dude not only builds a literal kills almost all gun (that no one knows how it works exactly), he also built a fucking devil’s gate and the series of railroad tracks that formed a giant devils trap in the middle of fucking nowhere Wyoming that was somehow also a great fucking hotspot to talk with Lucifer in the cage. Why the fuck would he build a devil’s gate and then the devil trap protecting it? Why could this dude not be normal? Not to mention He also fought a Phoenix!!! A Phoenix! The only Phoenix that has ever been reported to exist and whose ashes are the only thing that can kill the literal mother of all monsters. Which he somehow mails to Sam and Dean in the future using a phone from several years in the future that he literally just got earlier that afternoon.

Dude was on some serious shit. Man was definitely receiving the most violently random prophetic visions from god. Dude literally went, it came to me in a dream and built a weapon that’s literally still confounding people generations later and would function as a key to a fucking devils gate that would literally be the first step in so much shit going down in so little time generations later . Wouldn’t have even surprised me if they also said he was responsible for Ruby’s knife.

He also, most importantly, is from the wild wild fucking west!!! How cool would a show about that be? A fucking genius inventor hunts monsters in the Wild West while some being he knows nothing about but deeply suspects is giving him blueprints for big, wild things and weapons for how to stop them, or at least slow them down.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[meli-mouse]

didnt draw anything big but happy belated bday to this guy who pogged in 2012

[mousehousediary]

ever think about how when louis was asking armand to witness madeleine's turning, he was basically inviting him into the family by asking him to attend his daughter's wedding/hold his hand in the delivery room. and when armand essentially replies "i will not go unless you force me to" he tells him he doesn't have to and reassures him. and then what goes on in their respective heads in that exact moment are:

louis: oh damn the maitre stuff is not just a sex thing he actually like can't hold a conversation like a human being. oh but he's so sad... there there loser boyfriend... why does nobody ever want to have babies with me :/

armand: *has just sentenced louis to death*

[moeblob]

"Dan Heng was right." - the trailblazer

[tj-crochets]

Another project that had been in the back of my closet for a long time done!

This is a quilt my mom made my uncle when I was little. He wore pretty much exclusively tie dye, especially rainbow tie dye. When he died, the quilt came back to my mom, and ended up being one of my two favorite quilts as a teenager, until it got too ripped to continue using it.

My mom tried to repair it at the time, but only manage the biggest rip. I went in and zig zag stitched with rainbow thread over all the tiny holes (it was yarn tie quilted but with what appears to be embroidery floss, and a lot of them popped through the fabric of the quilt top), touched up some of the repairs my mom made, and it’s all good now!

The plushies are because my mom put my uncle’s name on the quilt

[telluricdog]

kingisle whenever they need to coax older players back: HEY YOU PERSON WITH A WALLET!!! REMEMBER DRAGONSPYRE?!? REMEMBER HOW SAD THE LAST ACT MADE YOU FEEL? HERE'S SOMETHING REFERENCING DRAGONSPYRE!! ISNT THAT YOUR FAVORITE?!

[creaturefeaster]

Wire... what's Elliot's sexuality..?

that man is GAY!!

[curesforwritersblock]

i love cleaning because i get to find the most random shit like

why the fuck do i have a ddr cd from a burger king kids meal in 2006

[queerdiazs]

‘you are not required to announce your departure’ is the hardest line ever dropped in history and i will be using it at every moment i can

[thefirstknife]

Getting real sick of a certain subset of Destiny players complaining that it’s a baby game and crying to Bungie to nerf exotics and abilities when their ENTIRE POINT IS TO BE STRONG in specific ways as if they are being locked into using them.

IF YOU WANT AN EXTRA CHALLENGE STOP BEING SUCH A DPS GOBLIN AND JUST EQUIP SOMETHING THATS NOT TOP TIER META AND STOP COMPLAINING JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

MOOD. Go off.

It's incredibly annoying to me. They always use the argument of "the game should FORCE me to do things, I should not SELF-IMPOSE challenges." And like. ? I'm sorry but what? It's a video game for a big audience, it's here to be playable and accessible to the widest possible playerbase. There are plenty of ways to make the game difficult for yourself, so knock yourself out if that's your thing, but don't force others into it.

Like, I enjoy hard content, I regularly at least attempt day 1 raids, I do master raids, GMs, solo and solo flawless content and all that. But only when I want to. Sometimes I don't and I don't want to suffer in a patrol zone or struggle in a seasonal activity I'm doing for the story. The majority of the players don't want that. Designing games for the professional gamers only has NEVER been a good idea and never will be. Fifty streamers can't sustain a video game. It needs casual players who will want to come back to the game instead of feeling defeated.

One of the reasons I really enjoy helping others is because I know that casual players tend to struggle in stuff that's basic activity for me. I've seen people unable to get through a strike. I've sat for 10 minutes rezing someone who couldn't do the jump in a seasonal activity. I want those people to be able to play basic content without feeling frustrated and I want them to know that there are people out there who will help them out.

And this doesn't apply just to basic content, although it should start with that. I think all dungeons and raids and everything should be things that all players can complete. Fine, doing a master raid with all challenges should be tough, but it should be achievable with time and practice, not impossible. What a lot of these "pros" want is just completely divorced from reality.

It takes days and days of practice every time a new master raid is out for me and my team (all with thousands of hours of playtime) to get comfortable to finally finish it. We're far from casual players and it still takes a lot of time to be able to finish hard content. Making it even harder is insane to me. Like, if something is so hard that my team full of people, each with 5000+ hours of playtime and a coordinated team that's been raiding together for years now can't finish it, that means it's absolutely impossible for probably 90% of the playerbase. That's wild to me. Raids and GMs should have more people playing them. If master raids are too easy for you, Mr. I-Play-Destiny-For-A-Living, that's on you buddy. Unequip the super god tier god roll meta guns and loadouts or play something else.

And ofc, another excuse they make is "if I don't use meta, I am not going to win a raid race!" Then don't. Idk. Let me play you the tiniest violin. This affects literally nobody except a grand total of 50 people. Run your meta in day 1, and play with random shit otherwise. Play raids with all white weapons. Play without mods. Play without a HUD. Do things solo only. I don't know, make up a way to spice things up for yourself. I'm not interested in that and neither are 99% of the players out there. The game is genuinely hard enough for the majority of the players. On top of that, I am here to feel like a powerful space fantasy superhero. I am NOT here to die to dregs in patrol zones. If there's ONE thing that I know for a fact that put people off from Lightfall (as in this year of Destiny), it's the difficulty changes. They're annoying, frustrating and for some a barrier to entry more than anything else.