#very bumpy season with a slow start

[mikimeiko]

Doctor Who | Season 1 (2024), Russel T. Davies

[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

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[taglist is closed]

[prophecyofwinter]

Se Rĩna Qilōni Iprattan Se Jēdar | II

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary | Saera Targaryen daughter of Jaehaerys I ran away from Westeros to escape her fate. 45 years later her daughter Y/N Targaryen, with invitation from King Viserys, wishes to go back.

Tags | Slowburn, TargCest, Smut, Standard ASOIAF content, Aemond and Reader are First Cousins Once Removed, tags to be added.

Authors Note!: I am so sorry for not updating in a while! Finals season happened back in May and I haven’t been wanting to do much since. I am back now tho! I will be releasing chapter three tomorrow at 11am EST!

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Masterlist

Chapter II | Bastards and Brothers

You were set to arrive in the port of King’s Landing in just a few hours. To be back on solid ground would be a gift from the gods themselves. Sleep escaped you, only being able to catch up in small intervals. The bed was itchy and bumpy, the blankets while silk didn’t add much comfort and they slipped and slid all night long.

A bang knocked at your cabin door, startling you before you realized it was Vaegon making sure you were awake.

“Fuck off! I can barely sleep and you are not helping!” you screamed at him through the closed door.

“We will dock in a few hours, get ready! Do you need help getting ready sister?” Vaegon said very boldly, you could hear the smile on his face.

You cringed at the idea of Vaegon helping you with anything of that sort, you swear he has some kind of sick fancy for you. Perhaps he’s more Targaryen than you in some ways.

“You can jump off the ship and see how deep the water is…” you said under your normal tone, turning over in your bed to hopefully get a few moments longer.

“What was that?”

“Leave!!”

——————

An hour passed by and you had given up on sleeping and committed to getting up for the day. This was one of the biggest days of your life, that being said, you were taking it pretty slow.

Taking your time with your hair and makeup, making sure it was enough to look your best but not to make it look like too much. Your mother had taught you how ladies in King’s Landing did their make up. Having grown up around Prostitutes and other people of that sort, how you had done your makeup made you feel naked.

For your hair you managed to put together delicate braids and wrap them into a bun in the back of your hair, allowing the rest of your hair to be free and rest as it pleased.

Once you had gotten to your clothes you ran into a small problem. You couldn’t get into your dresses without assistance, your mother had been the one to tie your corsets and must have forgotten to tell you how to do it yourself.

You were stuck with lots of pretty dresses but no way to put them on. Your eyes dragged across the room and fell on the chest with your dresses from Essos. Ones that flowed freely with nice and airy fabric, the dresses that made you most comfortable.

You couldn’t call anyone in to assist you and most certainly not Vaegon. Ugh. All the people on the ship were men, you had no other woman to assist you.

Your first appearance couldn’t be in an undone untied dress…

Opening the dark wooden chest you dug in search for a certain dress. There it is!

You pulled out a deep red dress made of airy semi-sheer fabric. The top started with a choker that split into two pieces of cloth that covered your breasts but leaving an opening in the middle for cleavage. An intricately designed gold belt holds it together leaving the rest of the dress to flow freely as it pleases. Golden arm bands added on as accessories of course.

While you are sure this dress wouldn’t go over as well as the other dress you had. There was no way you could put on the westerosi dress by yourself!

Once you have gotten yourself fully ready, you hear shouts from above from the crewmates indicating you will arrive any moment now. You take a few moments to look yourself over, straighten the skirt of your dress out, and check for any imperfections in your makeup.

With a final huff you open your cabin door and attempt to exit but are interrupted by your brother standing directly in front of the door, making you shriek and jump back.

“What is wrong with you!” You spit angrily at Vaegon. You could deal with this behavior in Volantis where he was constantly busy with training and hardly ever around. Now he’s gonna be able to breathe over your shoulder at all times and sniff your hair or whatever the fuck he does.

“I have to escort you sister, you never know who may lurk about.” He says with no reaction to your piercing shout. He steps out of the way to allow you to move ahead of him as he trails behind you.

Silence hangs for a few moments as the two of you walk throughout the ship to get to the deck. Vaegon brakes the silence abruptly with his invasive question-statements.

“I thought Mother told you not to wear those clothes anymore.”

“It seems I am wearing them anyway.” You replied blankly and walked at a slightly faster pace.

“If you needed help with the corsets I am more than obliged to-“ before Vaegon could finish you stopped in your tracks and whipped your body around to face him with a sharp finger.

“There will be none of that! I am to be legitimized and wed! I will not allow you to ruin any of this for me, you keep that tongue to yourself or I will ship you back to Volantis without it.” You growled through gritted teeth.

Without giving him a second thought you turn right back around and all but run to get up to the deck without your brother.

—————

Aemond began his day as normal, waking far earlier than any sane man. Had an easy breakfast of bread with berry preserves, assorted cooked meats, and a cup of wine. However mentally, his mind couldn’t fit another thought less it breaks out of his skull.

“You’re having me what?!” Aemond said with his mouth agape with shock.

“I didn’t have a choice in the matter, Aemond! The letters were already sent and replied to by the time I found out!” Alicent attempted to calm Aemond but he shook himself out of her grasp.

“You would have me wed a bastard from Volantis? What, just because one Targaryen left to become a whore?” Aemond couldn’t believe that his father somehow managed to condemn him even further.

“I would have never orchestrated this. But, everything is set and there is nothing to be done. This is your duty now Aemond.”

Aemond barely had time to prepare himself for basically the first day of the rest of his life. He never knew how he would marry, or even if he would marry at all. His meekness as a boy never allowed him to interact with girls his age. His disfigurement made it so potential marriages wouldn’t even be considered because he scared the daughters.

Against his morals but, a blind marriage to this woman that hadn’t the faintest idea of him maybe was his only option.

Alicent knew a thing or two about Y/N from being around Targaryens for most of her life.. She did tell him of her beauty, as beautiful as her mother. That her mother denied any and all propositions made toward her daughter, certainly a virginal girl.

Her father is unknown, as it goes for most bastards. However, her father seems to be present in her life despite his lack of physically being there. Between the wealth of her mother and father, the girl doesn’t want for anything.

Still, it goes against all he’s been told his whole life… Her being a pure-blooded Valyrian may help him forget who she is socially but only in the moment. Legitimized or not.

At the same time he couldn’t help but worry what she’d think of him. He could imagine the look of disgust turning into fear into disappointment. When he beds her on their wedding night, would she even look at him?

—————

You have to wait for the boat to fully settle into the dock and it is the longest minutes of your whole life. You can see the clearing of guards with their silver armor shining from the sun above. A carriage behind them, no doubt holding Prince Aemond inside. If you had lost it mentally maybe you’d jump off the ship, but for now you must go the proper way off.

Unfortunately, Vaegon has found his way to the deck of the ship. Taking his place behind you, you knew it was him based on the clanking of armor and the feeling of eyes burning into your back.

“I’ve heard Prince Aemond is a rather good swordsman. Even better than you brother. Though… that’s not much of a competition.” You laugh to get under his skin.

Vaegon had constantly worked for years on his swordsmanship. Never seeing much of real battles himself but practice is practice.

As children he would pretend to be a mighty knight with a wooden sword. Occasionally the brothel worker your mom had to look over you two would pretend to be a princess that needed to be saved. Of course you were the only princess he wanted to save… you cringed and shivered at the thought.

“You are very funny sister. Maybe I shall duel him and blind his second eye hm?” Vaegon leaned closer to you to whisper into your ear.

You only clenched your fists and held your head higher, the ship being fully docked and ready for you to step down. But you couldn’t let him get the last word in.

“Cunt”

———

🏷️ : @toodlesxcuddles @blackgirlmagicforever

[sodaneko]

COSMIC CRISP ; Kiyoko x gn!reader

Her arms wrap around your neck, a slow dance you have perfected over the years. No matter how close you are, it just never feels enough. If only you could carve yourself into her being–as if your name wasn’t written across her heart walls already.

contains: gn!reader (no pronouns used, no bodily descriptions), tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, road trip vibes, a lot of apples

word count: 1.3k

Summer has been kind to you, stretching out its branches and hugging autumn tightly, creating a kaleidoscope of warm colors and sunshine in your face. The windows of your old car are rolled down as you follow the bumpy road ahead of you, the radio playing a song dripping with nostalgia. Your fingers drum to the beat of it against the steering wheel while Kiyoko is humming along from the passenger seat, the wind rifling through her hair. She doesn’t seem to mind it though, her gaze following the scenery outside, one hand idly playing with the necklace you got her for your anniversary. She hasn’t taken it off ever since. 

In her lap lies a slightly crumpled street map of this area and a flyer from the apple orchard you’re headed to. The innkeeper handed it to you over breakfast, practically swooning over it–how she took her wife there for their first date many, many years ago and how they still purchase their apple juice from there, how Kiyoko and you were just in time for the upcoming harvesting season and that it would be worth the day trip. In all honesty you were sold from the start at the thought of a basket full of crisp apples and now that you were getting closer your excitement was radiating off you in waves.

“You’re in a good mood,” Kiyoko points out in a soft voice as she steals a glance at you. She looks absolutely radiant–she always does, but especially today, wearing a vintage dress and a matching subtle shade of lipstick that complimented her angelic features. With each passing day you find yourself more and more enamored with her, as if this was even possible. 

“Sure am,” you respond, a smile spreading across your face. It is hard, keeping your eyes on the road ahead of you and not at Kiyoko, but you force yourself for the sake of basic driving safety. You’d have plenty of time to admire her once you reach the orchard. “It’s been forever since we had a few days off together and I love making memories with you. Doesn’t get any better than this.”

“How sweet of the innkeeper to pack us a picnic basket even,” Kiyoko hums, looking over her shoulder where said basket was sitting in the backseat. The lady had been very persistent in her kindness, assuring you that the perfect apple orchard date needs a picnic under the trees. You couldn’t tell her that you already had another surprise planned, much bigger than a sweet little picnic, currently sitting in a velvet ring box in the glove compartment of your car. All the pieces are slowly falling into place, all the stars and planets aligning and leading you to where you belong–right here, right now, with Kiyoko.

You pull up in the parking lot, only a handful other cars there. There’s a small makeshift booth explaining the rules and how to’s of apple picking as well as a small donation box and some buckets you could lend and use for the harvest. The apple trees in front of you look lush and rich, their red fruits almost glistening in the early afternoon sun. You can already imagine what it would feel like to sink your teeth into these and it has you excited. Kiyoko squeezes your hand and gives you a knowing smile, happy to make another memory with you. 

“Just point at any apple you like and I’ll get it for you, no matter how high,” you tell Kiyoko as you stroll deeper into the orchard, hand in hand, your other gesturing as if this was your apple kingdom. The whole area is very vast, making it seem like you’re the only people here. It’s peaceful and quiet, no sound except for Kiyoko’s soft laugh and the subtle rustling of the picnic basket, holding a blanket and two bentos, green tea and something sweet.

“Please don’t climb any of these trees. I know how clumsy you can get and I’d rather have you in one piece, love,” Kiyoko mutters and points at a wooden ladder leaning against one of the apple trees. She gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “We can use this instead. I’ll hold it for you and if you still manage to slip and fall, I’ll catch you.”

After strolling around for what feels like forever, snatching an apple here and there, you find a spot on the top of the hill where you settle down for your picnic. You smile for the polaroid camera Kiyoko is pointing at you, admiring you through the lens as if you’re a masterpiece. Over the years you’ve secured yourself a safe spot in the museum of her heart, something she’ll always let you feel through the smallest gestures–when she fixes your collar, to the way she says your name (with a gentleness reserved for you only), or how she is cutting the apple in small slices for you.

Kiyoko never makes you question the love he holds for you, it’s steady as the seasons and the tides. She’s the calm presence by your side, the one you can always rely on when everything else is crumbling. When you think about the future, you see her face, smiling, your reflection mirrored in her warm eyes. There’s no doubt that the love that grew between you both over the years stretches out as vast as one thousand apple orchards, a tiny universe on your own. You think about the velvet box tucked away in your car again, stored away for later when you’re stargazing, and can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest, imagining what the ring will look like on her slender fingers.

You twirl the pocket knife in your hand–earning yourself a chiding glance from Kiyoko–while you peel an apple, leaning back against one of the massive trunks. 

“We should carve our initials into the tree somewhere. Then come back in a few years and see if we can find the same spot again,” you think out loud, searching her gaze for approval. The way she looks back at you is nothing but tender, a small smile tugging on the corner of her lips. Her lipstick is a little bit smudged from the kisses you stole earlier, but it doesn’t make her any less beautiful. You reach out and cup one side of her face, brushing over the corner of her mouth with your thumb. Kiyoko leans closer into your touch, closing her eyes for a moment before looking back at you through long lashes. 

“That’s sweet. Let’s do that,” she agrees and slowly leans in for another kiss, making your heart drum. She tastes even sweeter than usual and you think this might be the closest you can ever get to heaven. You pull her closer, the half-peeled apple and the pocket knife carelessly dropped aside, your hand now tangling in her hair instead while she’s straddling your lap. Her arms wrap around your neck, a slow dance you have perfected over the years. No matter how close you are, it just never feels enough. If only you could carve yourself into her being–as if your name wasn’t written across her heart walls already.

“I love you,” you murmur against her lips, not wanting to pull apart just yet. The sun breaks through the treetops, dipping you two in red and orange hues. “I love you more than anything.”

Kiyoko laughs softly, a sound like windchimes, like it was the first time she heard you say that. She would never get tired of it, tired of you. If she is the calm sea, you are the moon, ever changing but forever who she will be drawn to. A pair that could never be broken. You belong together, in this life and the ones after that; she’ll find you. She always does. 

“I love you, too. You’re my everything, my one and only,” she whispers back, her cheeks tinted like crisp apples, a heart glowing like it’s made from gold. Forever yours. 

a/n: a belated birthday gift but no less from the heart! i love you lots @wyrcan ♡ i'm so glad you exist and that we crossed paths! big warm hugs and kisses all over your face for you. you're so cool, i'll forever admire you. ily!!

[zmediaoutlet]

happy wincest wednesday z! it's very probable you've been asked this already, but, on a chance you haven't: between when you first got into wincest and now, what were the main shifts in your perception of the ship, in things you focus on, in things that give you the most heart palpitations? especially considering that you came in when the show was still about halfway in, iirc! would really love to hear about this <3

aw, bud! gumdrop! ty for thinking of me on the happy holy day <3

and you know, I don't think I have been asked this! It's a really good thing to ponder. My memory is Bad but let me try to cast my mind back to those early days in a sort of compare/contrast exercise and we'll see what shakes out. As you know I started watching spn in ~2011/12ish, and was fully caught up and watching ep by ep as of late s7/beginning of s8, so it is a little different that I binged the first half of the show and took the slow path for the second half. So what did I think initially...

I remember having an out-loud conversation with the bestie once I'd essentially finished s1 that I was surprised I wasn't shipping the brothers. A lot of those early s1 moments didn't get me at all, and I still wouldn't put s1 in my top five seasons. Like -- no chance. It was important getting-to-know-them time and of course there are great individual bits, but I didn't wincest about it at all. I think that took until... s2, maybe even s3. (It was a fast binge at first, admittedly. I think you also know that I watched almost all of s1 in the grips of a literal delirium fever, so I wasn't really grokking it until later.)

I think I really started to like Get Into the wincest once it was getting apocalyptic -- s3/4/5. I mean how could you not. The stakes are never higher than they were then, really. That was the deepest danger and it was such a five-alarm fire of -- oh, this is IT. This is what it means that they're brothers. Back then I liked more of the 'family horror' element, although obv I never went quite as melodrama hbo-spn as the current fashion is, bc I left that behind with like HP fandom in the 2000s, haha -- but still! I read my fair share of "Sam pines and this is why he leaves," my fair share of "Dean's torn up about how his little brother's hot and that's why he basically feel like he deserves to go to hell," you know. etc etc. They still hit in their way but I don't -- like that much anymore, because.......

so I was REALLY into the s6-7 arc, loved it to PIECES. I loved saint!Sam getting his martyr on, the insanity, etc. The first fic series I wrote for this fandom was Physical Graffiti and it was all about that. And I still love it! Still wonderful! Buuuuut I didn't realize, I guess, what delights there were in store for the Carver era, and I didn't realize either that Sera was still working firmly inside the Apocalyptic Model -- obv appropriate for the show, but even if it was all about consequence and messy "what if there's not destiny anymore", it was still very much about the destiny and how firmly tied they were to each other. But then there was --

Carver era! Which was a bumpy ride, haha. But even the first half of s8 was ROUGH to get through (god, those horrible amelia flashbacks, godddd) what became clear was that this was now the Choosing Era, and there's nothing that hornts me up more than Choosing. I love the apocalypse, I love the destiny shit, but it turns out that I love SO MUCH MORE the sense that there are ten thousand thousand other options that characters could be making and yet they nevertheless turn ever inward, because this is what they want after all, and not just what they are forced to have. Dude, that FUCKS. It's so good.

therefore, like, I get palpitations obviously still from things like s1, Sam saying "it's never gonna be like it was" and Dean pathetically going "could be?" Like that's good. Of course. But my established-relationship, adult complication, soulmates-are-made-not-by-fate-but-by-choice heart thrills more (and more every day!) to little things like... in the French Mistake, when Dean half-cautiously says to Sam that his life here isn't so bad, and maybe they could stay, and Sam just shrugs and says "we're not brothers here, man." Or when Sam could absolutely have stayed in Kermit at that shitty motel where Amelia would've waited, but instead he shows up at a cabin and eats bad chili with Dean, even if he's still mad. Or when Dean was a demon, and then had a mark, and Sam at any point could've said -- you know what, we could make a sacrifice play here and save several days, but I wanted you back, and Dean looks at him and then away because -- that's just true. That's a choice, made. Every day.

that's the shit, man. That's all I need.

[deasbanker]

Weekend treat: climb Mt. Takao（599m）for the first time in my life and immerse myself in a lot of nature from 8 to 15!

23/11/2024（Labor Thanksgiving Day）

When it was still dark enough to see the stars, mom and I set out for Mt. Takao, which is located in Hachioji, Tokyo, and changed trains. The beginning of this trip was my pure curiosity of climbing/hiking on the mountain trail because I had never done before, although I was being in my mid-20s.

Since some articles on the Internet said that it was always packed with a lot of people on Mt. Takao during the autumn leaf season in November, we needed to leave so earlier as to arrive at the station before 8 and avoid the crowds as much as possible.

On arriving at Takaosanguchi Station, I got excited about how cold it was by seeing my breath. Thanks to this cold and crisp autumn air at the foot of the mountain, I could enjoy observing such nature as trees or moss well even before climbing. As we anticipated, there were already so many hikers（including dogs!）gathering and setting off to the peak.

First, I took to the ambience brought out by traditional Japanese-style housings at the skirts like Kyoto, which made me feel like I was exactly in a tourist spot in a good way. Then, we finally entered the sacred mountain. For my very first time of climbing a mountain, I went for the easiest way to the peak. As we proceeded, mom and I encountered a bunch of unique nature, such as a huge hole under tree roots（this reminded me of the whomping willow in Harry Potter）or orange moss; I appreciated such uniqueness, diversity and the mysteries of nature from the bottom of my heart. Also, I found that most fantasy stories all over the world are related to forests because nature can give us opportunities to spark our imagination, indeed.

Half an hour later, my excitement and energy were totally gone due to really steep slopes, which I didn't expect at heart. Although I can usually walk a long distance without fatigue, my feet refused to move at that time. I think that I was the slowest hiker there, but I had to keep moving as I would never have tried to proceed again if I paused.

After that, we arrived at a mountainside where some stalls or diners are. That helped me out of fatigue to some extent and let me start chatting with mom again. Nonetheless, such doesn't mean that we were almost at the peak; on the contrary, we needed to continue hiking on bumpy trails and lots of steps. I was being impressed by most of the elderly people there in terms that they didn't seam tired nor to slow their pace at all even halfway. By the way, I was pleased to see the renowned sacred tree named Takosugi（the octopus shaped cedar tree）.

Finally, we reached the top and managed to admire the view from the peak of Mt. Takao. Half of the mountain was colored by autumn leaves, which brought out the fall atmosphere. As I mentioned first, there were so many people having lunch sitting on the ground side by side at the top, too. Therefore, there was no space to chill out there, and we decided to go back and stop by a stall for a certain sweet treat.

This is "tengu", a legendary creature found in Shinto belief, shaped version of taiyaki（a Japanese sweet treat consists of red bean paste and pancake-like crust）. She waited in line for about 30 minutes to get it. Everyone including her ended up eating this sweets merrily.

Around 14:00, we descended the mountain by taking a chairlift, having a refreshing time overlooking Tokyo as well as adjacent mountains from the lift. Yet, it suddenly stopped on the way, and we were made to wait for a while; then I recalled the thriller film called Frozen（2010）.

Overall, it was absolutely satisfying in an every way, and I totally enjoyed the day with mom there. Besides, I was glad to know that I wasn't cut out for steep slopes through this experience. Everything is an experience.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

I'm not sure who to ask, but you always seem happy to answer questions, so I'm sending this your way.

I'm "newish" to the fandom. Never really kept up with spoilers and metas and things like that. So, I'm curious if you could tell me: Has the buddie speculation always been like this? Like, it just seems like the people promoting the show are really pushing thoughts to connect to Buddie happening.

And it's fun and exciting. Don't get me wrong, but I guess I'm just wondering how prepared I should be to not get my hopes up?

Love your blog, and I hope you're doing well ❤️

Hey Nonnie

I'm so sorry its taken so long to get round to answering this ask. I am always happy to answer asks and I'm so glad you sent this my way - even if I'm not sure if I'm the best person to answer it!

firstly welcome to the fandom - I hope you enjoy being a part of it with us!

in answer to your actual question, it depends on if you mean the promo team or if you mean the teams making the show - as in the script writers, set, props and wardrobe departments etc.

If you mean the former, things in terms of promotion aren't really that much different from pre season 6, we've had a bit more from cast members other than Oliver this season than last (they let Ryan out of his cage a little bit for starters!!) , but its not really been that much different to before.

If you are talking about the teams making the show then yes they have stepped up their game considerably this season. A lot of people rat on Kristen Riedel as showrunner, which I think is grossly unfair -things might've been a bit bumpy in transition when she took over -(I personally think she tried to take too much on by writing, directing and being showrunner, but she realised this and stepped back in order to do right by the show and that says a huge amount about her) but actually we are getting a lot more tying up of loose ends and making use of things in canon that wouldn't have happened under Tim - KR is a master of making use of what canon has already put in place to build on the story and flesh out characters far more than we see in a lot of shows.

It is important to note that the showrunner has final say about pretty much everything that we see on screen, about what is being put out there - if KR didn't want the step up in buddie related metaphors such as the couch then we wouldn't be seeing it on our screens so the fact we are seeing it is telling and there really isn't any other way to read it other than the intention is there from the show for Buddie to go canon - slow burns are just that a slow burn - we're not going to get it all given to us in 2 episodes - that would be a diservice to the characters and to the work the show has been doing. They started the build up for this at the beginning of season 3 (I remain convinced that it wasn't part of the plan in season 2, just a happy accident that they decided to play around with a bit in the later part of the season to see if it had legs or if it was just a bit of a flash in the pan) and there has been a very purposeful build up since then.

KR and the PR department are not going to explicitly say 'oh yes Buck and Eddie are endgame' in interviews - that would spoil the journey and they are never going to do that. I keep saying it , and others do to, Buddie going canon is huge - it will literally be the first queer romance slow burn on television that has been done with intent and given the same amount of care and consideration as a heterosexual slow burn on any other show and there is absolutely no way they are going to ruin the build up or the moment it happens - they want us to be kept guessing until it happens - that is good storytelling, they want us to still be surprised when it happens because even if we know its going to happen we don't know how or exactly when.

This show is incredibly good at taking us in one direction before changing tack and misdirecting us for a little bit. None of us were quite prepared for just how badly Buck was going to deal with his Everest sized mountain of trauma -we knew he was traumatised and we knew he needed to deal with it, but not a single person saw just how badly it was going to play out (or how much it was going to hurt us when it happened), but we do know that the show likes happy endings and likes to show healing so however bad it might be right now, Buck will come out the other side a better person who has had some major growth and ready - ready for Buddie canon - because he wasn't there yet - we all knew that!

I am totally prepared to be wrong, and feel free to come at me with knives if I am, but there has been too much intentional build up this season (and even last season which was building us up to where we are now as well) for things to go in any direction other than Buddie - we just have to trust the show and the process and enjoy the ride because I have no doubt its gonna throw us another curveball or two on the way but when we get there its going to just be so epically good!

Sorry I think I went of on a bit of a ramble 😳😳😳 but I hope it was worth the read! I'm always here to answer questions!

[thatonecoryosimp]

The Devil's Mercenary Part 9. Technoblade X reader. Love Locked

I'm finally getting the next chapter out, I'll be updating and writing some things today cause I'm not at school, I'm sick. I'm waiting for the meds to kick in right now so it doesn't feel like my head is imploding. This is a Dream chapter, wink wink, nudge nudge.

I've been rly sick the last week or so, and my relationship status is now complicated, so y'know.

Warnings: Smut, Mommy kink, Dom reader, Sub Dream, words like "baby, pet, whore." Beware.

Date: 10/5/2021

Series Masterlist

I was going about my day, as usual, my shoes crunched along the ground as I watched the colored leaves shake in the wind. Fall was such a beautiful season, everything sparkled in such a way, one that could melt the heart of even the most brutal of people.

The crisp air made its way through my hair, I could swear I could see it, dancing in its mysterious way, moving to its own tune.

The birds were heard chirping and I watched as small critters ran along the ground, basking in the sun's warm light.

And while fall was a very beautiful season, it was also very melancholy. It, like everything else, held two sides. While the land and the trees and the animals rejoiced in the cooling temperatures, and they turned to magnificent colors.

The thought arises that even if they are beautiful, they're still going to die. This was the leaves' last blaze of glory, its final bow. Some fell sooner than others, and in a few weeks, the rest would join. Dotting the Earth in their colors for a short time before losing them. Going brown, then to fall into obscurity.

It could almost make me sad to think about, but right now I could still enjoy the wonder the beginning of fall brought.

I felt the timber basket swish in my hand and I looked down to see a songbird, it had landed on the lid of the wooden container and started to peck at the whisker.

A chuckle formed as I stared at the gray and yellow bird.

"Well hello, little guy," I laughed. The bird's eyes met my own and it started to twitter. Its beak barely opening in closing. I grinned as I looked at the small animal.

"Aren't you just a little cutey?"

"Are you talking to a bird?" My eyes shot up and the basket jolted with my body, this had startled the bird causing it to fly off. I huffed as I watched the flurry of gray and yellow fly off.

"What was that for?" I glared at him.

I could see the blond stand up with a laugh, his emerald eyes blazing as he looked at me.

"I'm sorry I scared your little friend away," he walked closer to me with an almost loving smile on his lips, "Maybe we should eat to take your mind off it?" I felt him take the handle from me before putting one of his hands on the small of my back.

I slightly leaned into his side as I let myself react to his touch. My eyes closed again and a breath left my lips. I felt my nose scrunch slightly, this was only a deal, that's all it was. It wasn't anything else. This wasn't cheating, I wasn't even officially dating Wilbur.

I felt bad, I really did, but whenever I looked at him or was around him, I felt so right.

My eyes opened and I looked up at the man that caused my problems.

"I think this should be a good place, hmm?" I lost eye contact with him as I glanced around. The sight of the autumn trees brought a smile to my lips, it was so enchanting. The sun was setting in the distance, still peaking out over the treetops.

"Yeah," I answered breathily, "this is nice."

He sat the basket on the ground and pulled out the blanket stored in there. He unfolded it before ruffling it through the air, I watched it unfurl before it was placed on the slightly bumpy grown.

I sat down first, soon to be joined by the man that called me here.

I was the one to start unloading the food, taking out tasty concoctions Niki and I had made the night before, she hadn't questioned why I had wanted to bake so late, just happily obliged to help me.

As I sat out the last of the food I looked at him with a questioning stare, he was already looking at me, his eyes flickered in the last rays of sunlight, he had a dopey smile on his face.

"Why did you ask me to come here today?" I asked. I could see him slightly falter before picking up one of his favorite treats, it was a double-stuffed chocolate loaf cake, I had baked it for him before, and he constantly begged me for more.

"I wanted to tell you some things, I'm going to be talking to Wilbur tomorrow but I knew you'd want to be caught up." My eyebrows furrowed as I picked up a sandwich.

"Go on."

He smiled at me and took a bite of his cake, "I wanted to offer L'manburg their freedom."

My eyes widened as I looked at him, "What's the catch?"

"That there would be an election, an old friend of mine offered me a proposition. That I give L'manburg their freedom, if he could run for president, all I would have to do is be his endorsement."

I looked at him with widened eyes, if Wilbur agreed, he could win, I know he would win.

"Who's your 'old friend'," I questioned, still slightly skeptical.

"JShlatt."

The name sounded slightly familiar, I just couldn't put my finger on it. I nodded my head, my eyes were unfocused as I looked at him.

Before I could say anything else, he interrupted again, I could see him take a quick inhale of breath, "There's one more thing I would like to run by you." I stared at him, but he was looking at the ground.

A hum fell from my lips as I continued eating my food.

"I would like to temporarily put the killing part of our deal on hold."

That definitely caught my attention, "So we would just be fucking?"

He paused a minute, looking at me, then at the ground, I could see him struggling to find the right wording, "Yeah..."

I could hear his voice trail, there was something else there, but at the moment I didn't feel like pushing.

Other thoughts were swimming through my head at that moment, so many questions that would be left unanswered for the time being.

That would make it cheating, wouldn't it?

I could tell he noticed my hesitancy.

"Hey," he mumbled, scooching closer to me, his hand cupped my jaw as he looked at me.

"How about we take your mind off it?"

I looked at him with slightly glazed eyes, "How?" I saw him smile. The moon started to rise from the other side of the trees, I could see fireflies winding through the trees as I stared at the man in front of me.

He stood up and grabbed something out of his pocket, and as the moon rose I saw lanterns turn on all around me, light illuminated his features as he stared down at me with his hand held out.

I heard music start to play, it was low, almost like a wedding song.

"Would you dance with me?" my hands were placed in his as he pulled me up.

My body was swirled into his body. He held me close, his feet finding a rhythm with the melodies. His smile was sweet, and the way he held me with such purpose made my heart melt.

He twirled us around the open area. My head rested on his chest. My eyes were closed as one of his hands was wrapped around mine. My arm was rung around his neck.

The mood was made better when I accidentally stepped on his foot, both of us started laughing as I kept stumbling.

His body shook as he buried his nose in my hair. The arm around my waist tightened around me.

"You're such a klutz," he mumbled.

It was a jab, yes, but it was soft. He was kidding. I could hear him mumble something else under his breath.

"Hmm?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it, gorgeous."

I felt him press his lips to my forehead as the music slowed to a stop. We stood there for a few seconds. It was peaceful, standing there with him, away from everything. He made me feel loved.

He pulled away and guided me back to the picnic area. I could see a squirrel ruffling through some of the food. A laugh tumbled from my throat as I watched Dream panic.

"My cake!" he bellowed as he ran over. The critter raced off as the large man stumbled over. He looked over the picnic area and whined as he saw the crumbs of his cake. He sat back dejected, head held low.

My heart slightly sputtered as I looked at him, something came over me as I walked over to him. My pointer finger hooked under his chin and I pulled his head up. He looked at me with big puppy dog eyes.

"Do you want me to make you feel better?" with that the mood shifted, it was charged, electric. His eyes widened before he nodded

"Yes, please."

I smiled and bent down and pressed my lips to his. I broke the kiss and sat down on his lap. One arm got thrown around his neck and the other got placed on the middle of his chest.

I connected our lips again with a smile, I felt him whine again as I began to put pressure on his middle, he leaned back on the blanket so now I was straddling his hips.

I once again pulled away, he looked at me with such big eyes as I sat upright completely.

"Please..." I heard him mumble. A smile pulled on my lips.

"In a minute, baby. You'll get what you want."

I pulled my shirt off my body as I looked back at him. His hands went to my bare hips but I pushed them off.

"Not yet pup, mommy's working still."

he nodded and tried to sit still, watching me with hungry eyes, I stood up for s second to take off my pants. I knew he was watching me, and I was going to milk every second.

I pulled off the pants and hooked my thumbs in my underwear. I slowly started pulling them off. I slipped them over my feet and sat back down. I grabbed his hands and brought them to my back.

He unhooked my bra and pulled it off, throwing it to the side. I began to palm him through his pants, a groan tumbled from his lips at the sensation.

It was rather easy to pull them off, just a quick tug and they were down to his thighs. I crawled the rest of the way down his body and took him in my mouth. I felt his hands land in my hair.

"Mommy," he moaned, "oh please, mommy."

My head started to bob faster as I felt him tug at my hair. His thighs clenched a bit and I pulled off him.

I looked up at him as his hands fell from me, he had a look of confusion on his face.

"Don't worry baby, mommy's gonna take care of you."

I quickly placed my entrance over his shaft before sinking down. A loud moan fell from my baby's lips as he grabbed my hips. His head was thrown back as he bit his lips between his teeth.

I gently started to rock back and forth, before starting to slightly bounce. Leaning forward so I was resting on his chest. I could listen to him as so many moans fell from him. His hips sputtered as I started a little faster.

His hair was messed up, his head was thrown back, his face was flushed, and his eyebrows were scrunched up.

"You look like such a little whore." I moaned, watching as my words had an instant reaction. His hips coming up to meet mine.

"Are you mommy's little whore, huh? Huh, prince?"

"Yes-" there was a break where you could just hear his panting and skin slapping together, "Fuck, I'm such a whore for you mommy."

A moan sounded from my lips as I continued to chase both our highs.

"Am I being a good boy, mommy? Please tell me I'm being a good boy," I heard him moan.

"Yes baby, you're being such a good boy," I paused for a moment, my own breath becoming ragged, "Such a good boy for me."

It wasn't long before I felt his thighs clench up again, "Mommy, I need- I need to cum, please."

I nodded, "Cum for me, come on, baby."

My hips sped up slightly, just enough to tip him over the edge, I felt my own high tumble over me as I stopped, I felt him fill me up with warm hot ropes.

Our breathing slowly regulated as we laid there.

"Do you feel better now?" I asked.

"Yes, so much better."

~Jules

~~~~

I got kinda tired towards the end so I'm sorry if it's kinda shitty, I think I should lay down for a bit. Have a nice day lovelys, take care of yourselves, drink water. Love you guys.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Being in a long term relationship with JD would include~

(Not my gif)(Requested by @poruchik-logy​ )

(I still have to revise my meeting and dating J.D. hcs so these aren’t too in depth. I might add onto them more later but I hope you enjoy anyways!)

- To stay with Jason for any good amount of time, you’ll either have no idea about his murderous tendencies or have gone through it all with him and somehow convinced him to stop; at least before he turns himself into a million smoking bite sized pieces.

- J.D. obviously isn’t perfect, he’s got issues and lots of them. But if you’re willing to accept him knowing about said issues, then he’s going to latch onto you for as long as he can.

- Don’t let him get away with certain things, work with him, and take it slow with the “therapy sessions”. He can come around and be better, it’s just he’s never had someone really willing to walk that bumpy trail with him.

- The two of you argue quite a lot; maybe even half heartedly split up for a little while, but at the end of the day there’s no one else you’d rather fight with.

- And he expects that the two of you will fight. You’re a strong girl with a strong will; he’s learned that much during the time you’ve spent together. But he always assumes that you’ll be back and he’s always eager for those moments. They make for good memories. His woman coming back to him …like always; it’s therapeutic in a way.

- He probably isn’t planning on going to college though I wouldn’t put it past him to go just because you’re going to said school. If you’re planning on something prestigious then you’ll most likely have to do a long distance relationship for a while.

- He would absolutely be the type of guy to just drive down and see you on a whim. He wouldn’t even give you any warning; he’d just show up at your college one day with a little smirk on his face.

- Moving in together. He’s desperate to find some place where he can just settle down and start a life that wont be uprooted. And why wouldn’t you come with him? What else would you do?

- Got something that needs fixing? He’s got it covered! He’s got a good grasp on crackhead engineering so he can either fix it properly or somehow find a way to make it work.

- Slightly awkward visits; and an introduction, to his father. You don’t see him very much; and that's done on purpose, even though J.D. probably scored a job in construction or pyrotechnics with a little; or a lot of, help from the man.

- It’s the 80s so he’s had that nuclear family dynamic instilled upon him, although, he isn’t as set in it as some people are. If you want a job then that's fine. It’s just more money, right?

- He doesn’t really see you during the day; because of his own job, anyways so why not get a little extra cash if you can. The only way it would bother him would be if it interfered with the amount of time he got to spend with you.

- He probably refers to you as “my old lady” to other people, and definitely affectionately calls you “woman” like constantly.

- He loves those early morning, “I want to die cause I’m going into work” moments with you. Chugging coffee and groaning while rubbing his eyes in the kitchen next to you is an important part of your relationship.

- He’s not big on holidays but he regards them with a sort of fond disinterest for you; if you’re into them that is. He doesn't really get all the hype but he’ll go through the traditions of the season because that's sort of just what you do; and because it makes you happy.

- He never really makes a huge deal out of your anniversary. In fact, he probably pretends to forget only to pull a “come ‘ere”, giving you a little gift and a deep kiss, telling you he loves you; something that isn’t too common for him.

- Speaking of kisses, now that you live together he pulls you into heated ones all the time and at random. 

- He spends quite a lot of time taking care of his motorcycle either in your garage or backyard; depending on where you’re living. He doesn't want to live in a big city primarily because of his bike.

- He prefers to live in an ordinary, perfectly average town; somewhere that isn’t too personal. He wants it to be small enough that there's open roads yet big enough that he can get lost in a crowd.

- He’s a private person; he doesn't really want people to know a lot about him but he’s relatively good at playing nice. He’ll make a humorous, snarky comment or talk to the neighbors outside for a few minutes, just enough to be friendly but not become friends. He can make a good impression when he wants to.

- Once Jason knows for sure that you want him and are in it for the long run, I feel like he’d become less manipulative and mellow out. He’ll realize that he no longer has to “win you over” or “trap you”; for lack of a better word.

- J.D. is one of those cases where he’ll either propose to you during your senior year and want to get married after you graduate or never want to get married but vow to stay together strictly through your own will.

- Listen, I don’t know why, but I feel like J.D. would; sorta, be a good dad if he got his shit together. He just gives off a lot of dad vibes that I cannot ignore yet also cannot explain.

- Overall, being with Jason is a bumpy ride but it’s worth the time it takes to smooth the path. 

[race-week]

A summary of the FP Sessions

Mixed up Grid: It seems as though this week more than ever, there is a mix up of where the cars are performing, especially when it comes to the long run pace vs the qualifying simulations. Mercedes look faster over one lap, but Red Bull have better long run pace. Aston Martin seems to have taken a step forward in the midfield too, they are looking like they are the 5th fastest car, just tenths of a second behind McLaren and Ferrari.

Reliability: This weekend it has been confirmed that 3 of the Mercedes powered cars are taking new engine components, with George Russell and Sebastian Vettel starting from the back of the grid with a new ICE, MGU-H and Turbo Charger, whilst Valtteri Bottas will take a 5 place grid drop as he takes on his 3rd additional ICE of the season (6th overall)

Track Limits: they are being monitored at Turn 9 and Turn 19, the laptime will be deleted if no part of the car remains in contact with the track (i.e if all 4 tyres leave the track)

Track Surface: the track surface is still very bumpy and its inducing some instability into the cars, this along with the fact that the track temperature is significantly hotter than previous years at COTA is likely to confuse the teams, and make their previous data invalid.

Traffic: this seems to be a big issue, like at most tracks you have drivers backing up to start their lap, and whilst it shouldn’t be a huge issue at Austin with laptimes being over 90 seconds, drivers still seem to be struggling. Especially when they are on slow laps, there was the altercation between Max and Lewis whilst they were on prep laps, and the collision between Mick and Sergio when the latter was on a flying lap.

Tyres: the soft tyres seem to have a really short operating window, which could make things interesting in qualifying, especially with teams trying to get through to Q3 on the medium tyres. It could also give those starting just outside of the top 10 an advantage

Yellow Flags: we haven’t seen any double waved yellows in practice yet, but if a driver sets a laptime where he passes through a sector when double waved yellow flags are out, the laptime will be deleted.

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

Billy is a bit terrified by this sassy child, but will fight if someone looks at her wrong.

you know. i thought immediately of erica? like if billy joined the scoops troop he’d despise and adore her altogether. a little scared and very intimidated, but he’d give her all he’s got.

uh, so, here :)

===

Billy had only been in the shop for three minutes. Just in his tank and red swim shorts and flip flops. Shivering a bit from the cold of the ice cream parlor. And then...he was shoved aside as a quick little figure darted past him and up to the counter. No apologies thrown or gifted.

“Steve!” the pipsqueak of a girl rang the little silver bell relentlessly, turning more than a few heads in the store.

Then, Billy heard a familiar voice as the back door to the break room flew open, “What is it now, Erica?”

Erica leaned onto the counter and spoke in a whisper that could probably be heard by half the parlor’s customers, “Any updates?” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed something so incredibly exhausted Billy almost sympathized.

“No, Erica, we may not even need you to do this, it’s too dangerous.” Steve leaned his hands on the counter and Erica reached up and grabbed hold of the little red handkerchief. So much so that you could see Steve’s dark chest hair. He was forced to lean down as Erica spoke in a lower tone, but that was probably just for effect. She sure got it though, Billy was close to stepping in to save Harrington.

“I was promised adventure, Steve. I want to do something, so go back there and tell Buckley and Henderson that I want in.” She let go of Steve’s uniform gruffly and twirled around only to be faced with a bemused Billy. She glared at him something fierce, “What are you looking at, Blondie?” she raised her eyebrows sassily. Now this wasn’t what Billy had come to deal with, but it sure was interesting.

“What are you looking at?” he retorted. Sure it wasn’t the most original but this child looked to be nine so excuse him.

“I’m looking at you because you are staring at me, freak.” She didn’t even look fazed when Billy crossed his arms and tossed back a warning expression. “Plus, Steve and Robin are busy right now.”

“Oh yeah?” he planted his feet a little, “With what?”

“Important business,” she crossed her own arms and tilted her head along with the syllables.

“I need to see Harrington stat,” he snapped his fingers and Erica stared at him in twisted disgust.

“I’m not their visitor escort,” she theatrically stomped to the back room. And as the doors opened and closed he heard Harrington’s voice.

“We are not letting her do that, Ro— Erica, this is not a kids area. Out!” Steve blocked the door before Erica could continue through the doorway and placed his hands on his hips.

Erica wasn’t moved in the slightest and Billy inched his way closer to them, “Dustin is in there with you so if that were true you’re doing an awful job.”

Billy snorted and that caught their attention, they both glared at him so he shrugged innocently, “She’s not wrong, Pretty Boy.”

Robin showed herself, on her toes and searched over Steve’s shoulder. She caught sight of Billy and he waved with fake enthusiasm. “Oh,” Robin snorted, “It’s you again.”

“Shove it,” he discreetly flipped her off. Erica, on the other hand, stomped right up to Billy and poked him right in the middle of the chest sorely.

“What do you want?” she demanded.

Billy raised a brow, “I have input on my father’s whereabouts,” he watched as Steve paled, Robin disappeared with a hand covering her mouth, and Erica stepped back with a loaded amount of understanding to her eyes.

She nodded and stepped a little out of the way of the door with a sweep of her arm, “After you.”

Going to an abandoned warehouse with just the five of them was maybe, possibly, just about the worst idea they’d ever had a group. And, to be fair, they hadn’t been in a group for more than 24 hours. So there shouldn’t have been much expected.

“It’s gross in here,” Erica stepped closer to Billy and away from the dripping pipe poking out of the ceiling. “Acid could fall on us at any point!” she called up to Steve and Robin in the front. The words echoing distortedly. Dustin, who was between the two duos with a flashlight, lifted said flashlight up to look at the ceiling.

“Hey!” Steve yelped and snapped his fingers attentively, “Light please!” his voice was more quiet than Erica’s had been. Billy appreciated that much.

Dustin ignored it though, “It’s just water, Erica, what you should worry about is the rats. I saw a few in the front.”

“Rats?” Steve asked, his voice pinched and high.

“Yeah?” Dustin laughed nervously, “Why?”

Steve looked right at Billy and Billy furrowed his brow, “We need to get out of here now,” Steve ordered and pushed Robin forward back where they came from. “We shouldn’t have come here so late in the evening. Let’s go find Hopper and tell him what you said, Hargrove.” Robin stopped allowing Steve to push her but she didn’t disagree.

“What’s up now, Steve?” she asked him. Steve looked fearfully around, feet tapping against the concrete as he motioned to move.

“Rats are never a good thing, Robin, rats carry disease. Like- like,” he waved his hand floppily in the air, “That plague. The Black Plague, rats are not a good sign and with all that shit going on with the pumpkin fields last season?” He shook his head and pointed forcefully, “So we are going!”

All of them were still for a carried out moment, “I’m with Harrington,” Billy decided and flicked Erica’s shoulder when she pouted. She punched his arm in retaliation with vigor that made Billy grunt. There was a squeak from below them and a scream from Erica the next second.

“There’s something by my foot!” she yelped and stayed still in shock. Billy, in a flash, picked her up and ran with her in his arms back the way they came. She was still screaming but he ignored any complaint she had until he saw the light of the opening hole they’d come through. “Billy, wait for the others!” she whacked his shoulder blade. He slowed down and looked behind him to see Robin and Dustin sprinting towards them.

Dustin waved his arms, “Steve’s coming, go!” Billy took that and tossed Erica out before squeezing through himself.

He got a kick to the shin, “I could’ve gotten out myself, bastard!” she scolded. Billy winced and leaned down to rub the sore spot on his leg. He was caught in two little arms and a face full of textured hair and bumpy beads. “But thank you,” she said and backed away. She stared at him a moment and then watched Dustin and Robin emerge from the broken driftwood hole.

“Where’s Harrington?” Billy asked after a minute or so passed with no sound of the other man.

Dustin was chewing on his thumb, “He was right behind us, I swear he was.”

Robin stepped towards the hole again with a mix of hesitation and determination set on her shoulders, “I’ll go search it out.”

Erica rolled her eyes, “I’m small for conveyance and Blondie,” she pointed at Billy, “Is bulky enough for similar reason. I say me and him go in and look for Sailor Boy,” she glanced pointedly at Robin. And then elbowed Billy harshly when he didn’t say anything in agreement.

“Ow,” he muttered under his breath, “Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his own eyes in pathetic defeat, “Let’s go, he probably just got water on his head and freaked out.”

“Hey, no, I’ll go, he’s my friend,” Dustin directly addressed Billy with his eyes.

Robin folded her arms, “Well then I might as well go in,” she debated. Billy took notice of Erica sneaking through the hole while the two bickered unhelpfully. He tip toed around them and followed her in, and then continued to follow her into the warehouse again.

“Hey!” Dustin’s voice echoed, “Wait for us!”

Erica scoffed and stomped one of her feet, “You two are useless right now, keep watch or something!” She tugged on Billy’s wrist and started jogging down the dim hall. The floor was a little wet and it sounded like she could have been jumping in puddles. She screamed suddenly and Billy sprinted down and saw three huge rats blocking the doorway back into the main room where Steve must have been. “Steve?” she yelled as she carefully kept an eye on the black rodents four feet away from her pink sneakers.

“Erica? Go back out, Sinclair, I got this covered!” Steve’s unbodied voice carried along the walls.

“Harrington!” Billy roared and pulled Erica slowly behind him and away from the stationed rats. “Get your lanky ass back here!”

“Can’t really do that man!”

“And why the hell not?” Billy watched as the rats took a sort of running stance. He heard a pained grunt from the other room and then—

“Your dad’s here.” Billy bit his lip hard to contain a gasp of surprise he was sure he didn’t even feel.

He pushed back at Erica gently, “Run, Sinclair. I’ve got your back.”

And so she ran and Billy planted his damn feet.

—

second part here

[saturniandevil]

May 2021 Important Dates

AKA my notes on the Astrology Podcast’s May forecast video. Posting this one a little later than usual as I had a busy week. Dates based off US Mountain Time and may be a day earlier in the Eastern Hemisphere.

We’re entering this month on the back of a Scorpio Full Moon--themes of privacy may be especially pertinent, such as the Apple data tracking app released right on this lunation. We have a bit of a vacation in the first few weeks of the month, though new transits will chip away at that feeling as we move towards June.

May 3rd - Mercury enters Gemini His ingress precedes a shift towards mutable signs for the rest of the month--get ready to change things up. Communications will open up more as Mercury becomes even brighter on the Western horizon (he’s finally leaving that conjunction with the Sun). He’ll retrace his steps through Gemini later this month while squaring Neptune, though (when Venus made this trip in Gemini last year it corresponded to the second wave/lockdown in the US).

May 8th - Venus enters Gemini She’ll be leaving her domicile, but finally coming out from under the Sun’s beams--she and Mercury will both be visible just after sunset on the Western horizon. She’s literally brighter in the sky, making her benefic influence much stronger now that the Sun has stopped burning her. Key themes are the exploration of new ideas, taking pleasure in quick dialog, and an increase in movement.

May 11th - New Moon in Taurus The ruler of this New Moon, Venus, will be in Gemini with no (major) aspect to the lunation, however there aren’t any tense aspects to malefic planets either. (Only aspects are a sextile to Neptune and square with Jupiter.) Slow, steady and relaxing for a few weeks before the big changes this month. It’s also occurring the day before an exact trine between Mercury (13♊) and Saturn (13♒), making it a good time to finalize logistics, get paperwork done, and learn from the experiences of those older and wiser.

May 13th - Jupiter enters Pisces The greater benefic entering his nocturnal domicile should bring some good fortune to all. This is the first time in many months he’s been free from Saturn’s rulership, so we can finally relax a bit. He’s going to retrograde at the end of June and backtrack into Aquarius by July, so we’ve got a couple months to taste freedom (likely indicates travel restrictions worldwide loosening up but then tightening one last time). Our podcast hosts liken this transit to much-needed rain coming down on us, or like the full appetizer course of a larger meal. Jupiter entering such a wet sign can bring things together, where a flood of collective emotions will likely be dealt with in the upcoming cycle (both over the next few months and as the year ends/into ‘22 when he’ll be direct in Pisces).

May 20th - Sun enters Gemini He’ll be joining Mercury, Venus, and the North Node in this sign, and will be making a square to Jupiter early on as well. Kelly says this aspect & its repercussions may give some hints as to what the Jupiter and Pisces dialog will be for us. Things will start getting a little bumpy, though...

May 23rd - Saturn Retrograde at 13° Aquarius This is the furthest he’s made it into Aquarius in the past few months, having entered it but backtracked to Capricorn last year. This change of motion is really charging up the second Saturn-Uranus square, which will go exact next month but is within 1° of exactitude by the end of the month. Here’s the diagram from Archetypal Explorer again showing how close they’ll be:

Austin notes that those with strong Saturn-Uranus energy in their natal charts, such as the Saturn-Uranus copresence of the late ‘80s, will feel an activation of this placement. Chris also notes the struggle to overthrow and change structures in society will likely resurface as it did during their interactions last year. The image here may be shaking a tree for the fruit to come off--a brittle tree will crack but a moist tree will absorb the vibrations. Which structures can handle the earthquakes and which will fall?

Some people may be able to thrive on the paths opened by a crisis; early adopters of new technologies may make a move. Things will be different from the norm, and may pose great opportunities for those who shine brighter in times of chaos.

May 26th - Full Moon & Lunar Eclipse at 5°25′ Sagittarius This will be our first eclipse of the year. They come in roughly 6-month cycles, with the previous Sagittarius eclipse occurring in December--this may be a culmination of issues raised back then, and will set the theme for the next ~6 months.

Look for some big changes in the areas of life indicated by whichever house contains early Sagittarius for you. Austin notes that this eclipse is on the South Node (“tail of the dragon”) right after Jupiter entered his domicile. What needs to be cleared away for us to pursue what we believe in? Which fields need to be emptied in order to receive the rain? It’s time to let go of what is no longer serving you--those efforts have culminated and it’s time to pursue that new path you’ve been considering since December (or since last June perhaps, which was the last Full Moon to get this close to the nodes.)

Additionally, this means that next month will have a solar eclipse. The end of May to beginning of June this year is “eclipse season” for us. By the next eclipse in June, the area of life (house) Gemini rules for you will already be a little overstimulated...

May 29th - Mercury Retrograde at 24° Gemini He’s also squaring Neptune right as he slows down & switches direction--confusion on the horizon! Mercury will be domicile during this change in motion, making the retrograde stronger. Chris compares this transit to to Mercury Rx conjunct Neptune in early 2020 and all the confusion around public messaging that happened there. You can be very clever with bad information.

Mercury will slow down and go direct again right around the eclipse next month, tying the eclipses and Mercury retrograde cycle together. Standard keywords: miscommunication, messages getting eaten or going to the wrong place, reviewing old processes, doing the same thing three times because of freak errors...

[yesokaythatsfine69]

The Prince of Her Heart (Bounty Hunter!reader x Firelord Zuko)

Description: y/n was just a simple bounty hunter until a very important person and his equally important friends come knocking. Takes place during the first comic book and after the final season of atla.

Pov: third person

Warning(s): blood. fighting. Fluff.

A/n: Hello! It took me a bit to get onto the Zuko-crush train but with that being said I do think he's a total cutie and I hope y'all like this :)

*none of the gifts I use are mine. Full credit goes to the maker.

Y/n cracked her knuckles out of anxiety. The Earth kingdom colonies tended to do that to her and she treaded carefully with her shirshu, Rhian. The colonies had been the height of tension during the war and even with it's end you could still feel it buzzing in the air.

Y/n herself held no fear of the people. She was a certified badass and considered the best bounty hunter in the Earth kingdom and fire nation respectively. However, that doesn't mean the energy left from a hundred years of warring didn't rattle her.

Y/n wasn't truly a native of any nation, kingdom, or tribe and in most cases she was thankful for that. She needn't worry about only serving fire nation or Earth kingdom clientele. It also made it easy to escape the possibility of choosing sides.

But now that the war was ending she was destined to serve both anyway, and now having no nation just felt lonely.

Rhian made a small noise breaking y/n from her thoughts. They had arrived right outside a small earth town. It looked as her cousin, June, had described. Old, dirty, and significantly empty. Her new clients were waiting for her in a tavern towards the edge of town.

Usually she didn't take personal jobs, they paid much less than finding criminals did, but her cousin had gave them her name specifically. If June had thought it important enough to give the job to the best bounty hunter in the world, then it had to be important. With that being said, June had a terrible sense of humor and this could all for be some missing house pet.

She past a few people on the way to the tavern, but none looked like they were her client. The stopped at the tavern and gave a quick pet to Rhian. "I'll be back soon, girl," she turned to walk away, but paused. "And I'll bring you the biggest steak you could dream of!" Rhian cooed happily, and y/n made her way to the tavern.

Inside, the gaang sat at a round table. Zuko's leg bounced with worry. "What time did June say he'd get here?" He said, his voice strained with impatience. "The same time we gave you the last time you asked." Toph said dryly. The blind bandit had taken to picking her toes while they waited.

To Zuko's left was Sokka, who kept fidgeting with his boomerang, quite obnoxiously. Beside him was Azula, who had been tied to her chair. She seemed equally annoyed by Sokka or maybe that was just her current state after being dragged along on the mission to find his mother.

Aang put a calming hand on Zuko's shoulder. "Don't worry Zuko, they'll be here. Besides you have us to help." He gestures to the group and Zuko's shoulders only lowered at he glanced at his friends. All seemed preoccupied with either picking their feet, playing with weapons or glaring. "Aang's right Zuko. Your mother will be found. Then you'll have all the answers you'll need." Zuko nodded but his amber eyes still flashed with doubt.

Then, suddenly the door slammed open. The gaang immediately sat straight up and Zuko held his breath. An old man swayed in and staggered towards them. They watched with wide eyes as he raised his index finger in the air, opened his mouth, and...burped. Zuko's nose scrunched in disgust before he groaned and threw his head into his hands. The man staggered to the bar and Sokka watched him pointedly. He stroked his chin before turning to Toph. "Maybe that was a code for something. Quick, Toph, give him a response burp."

Katara glared at her brother and opened her mouth to reprimand him when the door opened once more. This time a young girl entered, wearing a black stealth suit and heavy boots. Immediately Zuko felt his heart stop- not because he felt she was the bounty hunter but because she was so pretty. She her stride was confident and her eyes seemed to look into your soul. As soon as their gazes met goosebumps sprouted on his usually warm skin.

It didn't take very long for y/n to see her clients. They sat at a round table in the back, a position that gave them an easy opening to see who was entering and leaving the tavern. Their were several of them and they were all very young. It caused her to narrow her eyes. Then she met the gaze of the one who sat in the middle, and she relaxed slightly.

He was extremely attractive, stunning even. A scar was over his right eye, and yet it only seemed to make him more attractive. It worked for him like a new style or a new haircut. Despite the scar he seemed rather soft and his big doe eyes were full of worry.

Slowly she crossed the threshold to the group. "You sent for me?" Zuko felt a blush rise to his cheeks at the sound of her voice. It was like honey. "Yes, we did. We need your help in finding out friend's mother." A girl with smooth coca colored skin spoke. It suddenly dawned on y/n who they were.

"You're the Firelord and you're the Avatar." She whispered, eyes wide. The bald one stood up, apparently worried she would no longer help them because of who they were "Yes, but please we-" she waved him off.

"My name's y/n. So june told you about me, Firelord?" He nodded. "Yes, she did. Said you were the best." Y/n smiled. Despite himself and the fears that consumed him, he mimicked her small smile.

Y/n resumed her questioning. "What do you know?" The firelord's shoulders relaxed immediately. "She made a deal with my father to kill my grandfather and leave. It was inorder to save my life." Y/n frowned softly at his tone. Azula suddenly spoke and her voice caused tension. "Our father was never really fond of old zuzu... especially since zuzu wasn't even his." Zuko flinched and Y/n's eyes widened.

"if that's true... How do you know Firelord ozai didn't just kill her?" Zuko swallowed, keeping eye contact with y/n. "My father was many things...but he always delivered on his promises." Y/n nodded. "Do you have anything belonging to your mother?"

The Firelord nodded and pulled from his pocket a note. "She wrote this." Y/n lighted reached for it and briefly their hands touched. Zuko's breath caught and his reaction slowed. Y/n felt the warm of his hand and when he pulled away she missed the gentleness of his touch. "This will be insteumental. Okay, Firelord, Let's find your mother."

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"You want me to...ride with you?" Zuko watched the shirshu skeptically. Y/n climbed into Rhian with ease before turning to the Firelord. "The best way to track is through her. There's enough room for one other person and I figure I'll be needing you." Zuko flushed at the thought of her needing him. "Yeah, yeah okay."

He moved closer to the shirshu but paused. The last time he rode one of these creatures the ride had been anything but fun. He took a breath and climbed in behind y/n. "You might want to hold on, the ride can get bumpy." Zuko frowned. "Hold onto what, exactly?"

"Me." Zuko froze for a second. When he didn't move y/n turned to look at him and tried not to smile at his flustered expression. "Oh don't tell me the Firelord is afraid of-" "I'm not afraid!" Zuko snapped promptly wrapping his arms around her.

The moment was so sudden it caused her to move into him, even as she was still turned. Within seconds they were inches from each other's face. Zuko immediately regretted his act, but he made no move to loosen his grip and y/n made no move at all.

This close she could count the freckles on his face. He squirmed slightly under her piercing stare and she blinked. Slowly, she turned back to face front but kept her close proximity to him. His warmth was too intoxicating to willfully detach from.

"Are you ready?!" She called up to the gang. "Ready!" The Avatar replied cheerfully. "Okay, Rhian." Y/n placed the letter in front of the shirshu allowing it time to sniff. Pulling it away y/n patted the beast. "Find his mother." With a grunt Rhian went into action.

Both were jolted forward. Zuko's grip stayed steady as they were off rushing through the town and to his mother.

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It was beginning to get quite hard to focus with how oblivious Zuko was to his own cuteness. Throughout the ride Zuko would lean on y/n, realize he was leaning abruptly apologize, sigh, wait a little bit, and then do it all over again.

"I heard that you helped train the Avatar. What did your father think of that?" She asked after a bit of silence. "He shot lightning at me." Y/n clicked her tongue. "Parents, what are you gonna do?"

Night was falling soon and y/n knew Zuko was sore (no matter how many times Zuko said he wasn't.) So she pulled the group into a small camping area.

"we need to rest for a bit. Rhian won't lose the smell, so don't worry." She turned and gave Zuko her hand, wanting to help him down from Rhian. He hesitated but when he looked at her amused face his resolve and heart melted. He took her hand and she helped him down.

"See, not so bad." Y/n spoke softly, her eyes twinkling against the starry night sky. "Not as bad as it could've been, at least." Zuko answered, hand still clasped in hers. Y/n glanced down at their hands still intertwined and Zuko noticed, clearing his throat and finally pulling away.

They turned to see the group watching them curiosly. "Let's set up some tents over here and then over there we set a fire." Y/n moved forward, her voice breaking whatever tension had arose.

Soon they pulled up some tents and started a fire. Y/n had delightedly told the group stories about times where she was almost killed by a criminal she was hunting. In return Aang, Katara, and Sokkka piped in times where they too were almost killed.

Zuko sat mostly in silence, listening to y/n and his friends talk. He enjoyed how animated she was, and how she made sure he was involved. It gave him a warm feeling and he found himself scooting closer to her.

Slowly each person found their way to their tents for sleep and it was only Zuko and y/n by the fire. She smiled at him. "So, Firelord, do you have any stories you'd like to share?" Zuko thought for a second. "My uncle, Iroh, is the family story teller." Y/n's grin grew.

"Then you must be the family hottie." Zuko's cheeks flushed. "I-I mean I-" He was cut off by y/n's laughter. "Zuko, you are too easy." Zuko frowned and crossed his arms. "So I've been told." His eyes lifted to Azula's tent. Y/n followed his gaze.

"So, what happened to her? She couldn't have been like that when she 'killed' the Avatar." Zuko nodded. "My father happened. He...he forced her to be perfect." Y/n nodded and moved closer to him. "He wanted a perfect child and he definitely got one. But, perfection comes at a price."

"What was your mother like?" Zuko's eyes widened and he turned to y/n. She was much closer to him than she had been before, and the reflection of the fire danced in her eyes. She waited patiently for his answer and he swallowed.

"She was kind. He didn't deserve her." Y/n nodded. "She understood you." Zuko stared into the fire. "For a long time I wished she would've taken me too. I always wondered why and...and sometimes I blamed her for what my father did to me. I realize now the only person who deserves blame...is my father."

For several moments they were silent. "My father once told me that the greatest thing a person can do is forgive. I believe you've done that." She put her hand on his shoulder. Zuko leaned into her touch. He turned to her and they shared a look.

They were mere inches from each other, and the thought of closing the gap became imperative to y/n. Slowly she tilted her head, pulling forward slightly. When Zuko didn't move away from her she placed a hand his cheek.

Zuko again leaned into her touch, his breath hitching. Y/n again moved closer to him, and he felt her lips ghosting over his own. His eyes shut and he let out of shaky breath. "Y/n." He whimpered softly.

"How cute. My brother the Firelord and y/n the bounty hunter." Zuko's eyes shot open but before he could move lightning was hurdling towards them. Y/n acted quickly, throwing them to the left barely dodging the strike.

Azula stood on the other side of the fire. It light up her face menacingly and she grinned manically, her fingers ablaze in blue. "Thought you could just...tie me up and forget about me?" Zuko had jumped up swiftly. "What are you doing Azula?" "Isn't it obvious brother!? Killing you!" She hurdled fireball after fireball, each one caught by Zuko.

Y/n scurried away, into the darkness of the night. Azula laughed, watching the bounty Hunter's fleeting form. "It looks like lover girl's left you to the wolves, Zuzu." Zuko only gritted his teeth. "I don't want to hurt you, Azula."

His sister only cackled. "But I do want to hurt you!" She collect her energy into lightning and went to strike her brother once more when suddenly a long tongue wrapped around her, causing her body to go limp.

She gasped in outrage as she hit the ground. The gaang had heard the commotion and had ran from their tents in time to see Rhian and y/n standing over a cursing and unmoving Azula. Zuko put out the fire in his hands and moved to where y/n and his sister were.

Y/n slid down from her shirshu carefully, walking over to Azula's struggling form. Zuko had glanced at her briefly but the two remained at a distance, different thoughts swarming their heads.

As the others pressed for information and the two calmly answered, y/n realized just how close she was to kissing the Firelord. Her, a measly bounty hunter that lived off coins given to her in exchange for criminals.

That night she didn't sleep, her mind too focused on how close she was to Zuko. Too focused memorizing every inch she saw and the sound of her name on his tongue ringed in her ears.

She cursed herself for the action. She had definitely ruined things now. Soon, he'd be gone out of her life and to the palace where she was sure he find some pretty princess or Lord's daughter and get married. She wasn't worth it.

Zuko didn't sleep much either. When he did he dreamt of her pulling more sounds from his mouth till he awoke in a cold sweat. He figured that she had been tired and whatever happened had to have been some sort of trick. Y/n was stunning and clever. She was funny and witty and he- he had an ugly scar and a brooding and off-putting personality. The more he thought the more he convinced himself something else had happened.

She couldn't have wanted to kiss someone like him. It was... impossible. Silently he wiped a tear from his eye and turned onto his side.

Finally day broke once more and the events of the past night were forgotten. Or at least but the gaang.

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Y/n and Zuko had rode in tense silence throughout their journey. Neither commented on what happened the night before. Y/n felt unworthy of Zuko and Zuko felt unworthy of her. Finally y/n broke the silence- but not in the way Zuko yearned for her to. "We're close. Rhian's moving slower." Zuko forced a weak sound of acknowledgement before they were silent once more.

After a few more minutes Zuko spoke. "After...after this is over...i hope we can still...erm, I want to still be around you." y/n stiffened. "Like, still be friends?" Before Zuko could answer Rhian stopped. Y/n turned and slide off, turning to Zuko.

Again, she held her hand out. Zuko looked at her hand and glanced at her before taking it. She yanked him forward a bit harder than she meant- sometimes you don't know your own strenght- and he fell into her. This time it was her breath that got caught in her throat as she looked up at him. A few hairs had fallen into his eyes, and he looked so beautiful.

Then, like that the others arrived and he pulled away, leaving her shivering slightly. "So this is where Zuko's mom is?" Aang asked y/n, keeping a weary eye on the small desert town before them. Y/n nodded. "She's here, or at least that's where her scent has stopped." Y/n frowned. "I can't take you any further though."

The group all turned to her. "Why?" Zuko immediately asked. "I've done my job. I've led you to her. It's your job to go to her now." She turned back to Rhian. "It was nice working with you guys-" Zuko raised up his arm and followed her.

"Don't we need to pay you?" Y/n smiled. "Just tell the other nobles about me. a good word of mouth or something like that."

He put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to him in surprise. "Uh...thank-thank you. What I said before- I-" She cut him off. "Don't worry about it Firelord. I'll miss you." Before he could respond her shirshu lurched forward and turned around. He watched her go untill he could no longer see her.

"Zuko?" Aang put a hand on him. Zuko said nothing and marched into the town.

--------------------------------------------------Y/n gripped onto Rhian's reigns. "God's, he was perfect...wasnt he?" No one answered. It wasn't like she needed one anyway. Everytime she closed her eyes she saw him and somehow she still feel his gentle grip on her waist as she rode. She had meant what she said and even though it had barely been five minutes, she missed him.

She'd be okay. There was always a criminal somewhere that needed to be caught.

He'd be okay. He'd go to his palace and find a pretty fire nation girl and-she sighed. She made one last turn back, some sort of final goodbye. Then her form was melting into the sunset.

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Zuko had found his mother, had his happy and heartfelt reunion, and then he was back at the fire nation palace. Iroh had noted that something was off in his nephew almost immediately. Zuko seemed more withdrawn (yes, that's possible.) And more somber than usual.

So Iroh being Iroh put on a pot of jasmine tea and knocked on Zuko's study door. "Come in." Zuko's raspy voice called from behind.

When he entered, Iroh immediately noticed his nephew sitting by the fire, rather dejectedly. Iroh was silent as he went to the table which sat in the middle of the room, putting down the tea cups and kettle.

"I've brought some jasmine tea for you." Zuko nodded slowly. "Thank you, uncle." Iroh watched his nephew carefully. "We got a letter from an Earth kingdom noble. Their daughter is rather interesting, I think. She's very pretty-" Zuko had stood up and waved his uncle off. "Please uncle. I'd rather just have some tea." His uncle made a humming sound.

Zuko picked up a cup and drank slowly. His uncle allowed him a few moments of silence before he spoke once more. "You've been off since your journey. Did something happen." Zuko paused. "No. Nothing besides finding my mother." Iroh watched him carefully. "Is that what has been troubling you?"

Zuko said nothing. "The Avatar told me you met somebody. The bounty hunter, uh..." "Y/n." Zuko said softly.

The room was silent for a moment and Zuko looked up at his uncle. Iroh was smirking down at him with a knowing smile. Zuko knew he had been caught. "I haven't felt such a strong connection before. She's...she's...I miss her." Iroh nodded.

"well Zuko, you are not getting any younger. Why not go find her?" Zuko shook his head. "it's complicated." Iroh crooked an eyebrow. "Is it complicated? Or are you scared?"

Zuko looked at his uncle, who was watching him sternly. "Zuko, fear has ruled your life for too long. If you don't overcome it now, it'll overcome you." Iroh placed his own tea cup down.

Zuko said nothing, but took another sip of tea.

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Y/n counted the coins in her hand. It'd be more than enough to get by, and she stuffed it into her pocket. "If you need anything again, you know where to find me." She said to the client before leaving his shop. She made her way into the street of the small earth kingdom town.

Rhian was chewing on a steak that y/n had given the shirshu earlier and y/n smiled. Then she felt the ground underneath her begin to shake slightly. She turned to the entrance of the town.

She blinked in surprise, watching as her cousin and her own shirshu entered the town. "June?!" Nyla, the shirshu came to a stop and Rhian got to her feet. "June what are you-"

Zuko slid down Nyla from behind June. "Hey." Despite her complete shock she mustered a response. "Zuko, hi." Y/n turned to June. "He really must like you, y/n. He payed me to find you." She turned to Zuko, who was blushing.

June and Nyla rushed off, leaving Y/n and Zuko to gawk at each other. Zuko spoke first. "I'm sorry I-" before he could finish y/n had pulled him into a tight hug. "God's, Zuko. I've missed you so much."

He instantly melted around her and embraced her back. "I've missed you too, y/n."

He pulled back from her, and she placed a hand on his jaw. "I should be the one apologising. I just...you're you and I'm me." Zuko's eyes sparkled. "You being you is exactly why I like you." Y/n keened.

She thumbed his cheek softly. "I'm glad you found me. If you hadn't I wouldn't have been able to do this."

She pulled him to her, and their lips met. Zuko sighed into her mouth, all the tension he had accumulated since meeting her melting away. She pulled a hang through his hair, pulling out his bun and letting his hair fall on his head.

At the moment Zuko would've let her do whatever she wanted, and her move made no difference to him. Y/n bit his lip and he whimpered softly, allowing her to slip her tongue gently in.

She pulled away, slowly. Zuko tried to follow her mouth and she put a hand on his chest, laughing at the change in him. His mouth was red from kissing and he shivered in her grasp. "I think we should do that more often in general." She grinned at him, and placed her lips over his in a chaste kiss.

"Whatever you say, Firelord."

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A/n: thanks for reading, pls feel free to leave criticism and requests!

[andrebearakovsky]

Folks, I promised you an essay with all my thoughts and feelings, and I'm giving you an essay with all my thoughts and feelings. Buckle your seatbelts because we are going on a bumpy ride. My essay, directed to GMBM.

I'm going to start off with: this trade makes absolutely no fucking sense. PARTS of it, maybe, but as a whole? No fucking way. The Caps sent a HUGE package to the Wings. They sent off Vrana, Panik, a 2021 1st, AND a 2022 2nd. For just Mantha. I don't know about you, but that seems EXTREMELY lopsided. Like Mantha's good I guess, but not enough to command ALL that. And he's signed for three more years beyond this, which like as face value demands a little bit more in return, but once again, not ALL that!!!

I'm gonna be honest I could not tell you much of anything about Mantha and how good he is. I see highlights of him sometimes, which means he's got some talent, but like he's still a big question mark. And he's a big power forward, which like on the one hand fits the model of the Caps, but on the other hand you ALREADY have SO MANY dudes on your roster who do exactly what he does. Vrana gave you speed and skill which you didn't have with just about anyone else on the roster, and now you have barely any of that which concerns me.

I have some serious concerns about the direction the team is going with this move. This team is OLD and SLOW. There's something to be said for experience but uhhhhh. The ENTIRE roster can't be old that's not a good move. And by trading Vrana you get rid of someone who is the opposite of both of those things, which was adding balance to your roster. And like Mantha's not old, he's 26, but that's still older than Vrana, who is 25. You're not helping yourself here. AND getting rid of this year's first when your roster is old as dirt is REALLY concerning to me. AND you're gonna be slower, did I mention that? Which also concerns a LOT. The only one here with any speed at all now is Carl Hagelin. Which is like. Alarming. I see teams like the Rangers skate around them and make them look like fools and this is not going to help.

So I guess my main point here on the logic side is that I don't understand the point? How are you improving? You're not getting anything new; everything he brings is something you already have. The fact that they traded Vrana is not exactly surprising, given his diminished ice time and recent scratches, but what they traded him for doesn't make sense.

And like I'm not SUPER upset Richard Panik is gone, he wasn't adding a whole lot to the lineup, but I am gonna be sad about the fucking destruction of the Czechoslovakian Mafia. You took away their leader (Vrana) and destroyed it in one fell swoop. I know all the Czechs and Slovaks were all friends so that aspect in them being gone makes me sad.

NOW it's time for my feelings. FIRST of all, how DARE you!!! How D A R E you!!!!!! I love that sweet boy!!! No thoughts head empty!!! An absolute delight!!!!!! His facial expressions so good, his interviews so funny, and I just!!! Seeing him always made me smile!!!!! And now I am ANGRY and HURT and UPSET and DEPRESSED!!!!! How DARE you take this joy away from me!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK YOU. I have so many good memories of him during the Cup run and now I think of them and want to cry. I get no more Jakub memories now. And you, personally, ruined this.

More hurt feelings: Vitek Vanecek and Jakub Vrana have been very close buddies since they were drafted in the same draft in 2014. They're both Czech, and they both came up in the system together. Joined at the hip in the minors. There was one prospect camp where Jakub fuckin translated everything for Vitek because Vitek like hardly knew any English at that point (there's even a sweet moment in this video when Jakub asks also-a-tiny-prospect-at-that-point Pheonix Copley to make sure Vitek gets to all the right goalie stuff). Jakub made it to the NHL much earlier, but when Vitek finally, finally, FINALLY got his break and made it to the NHL, Jakub was SOOOO happy for him!! And they were finally going to be able to live out the dream and play in the NHL together on the same team and you RIPPED THAT AWAY YOU FUCKING BASTARD.

My feelings are big hurt. You can't just trade Madison Bowey and then Christian Djoos and then Jakub Vrana on THREE CONSECUTIVE TRADE DEADLINES that's just illegal to my feelings. And a hate crime. I remember this article about all three of them coming up together in 2017-18 and now I'm extremely upset again. The ONLY silver lining here is that Christian Djoos is also in Detroit so he and Vrana will get to be reunited (unfortunately they missed Bowey by just a hair; the Wings didn't sign him over the offseason, so he went to Chicago and then today just got traded to Caps West in Vancouver).

You know I really thought the Raffl trade was the trade I was going to get Big Mad over today, but I literally didn't even get a chance to be mad about that. That one's fine I guess, a nothing move really. He's Austrian, and the Caps do love to collect their different nationalities. However I am still concerned about the age; the Caps trade two of their youngest players in Vrana and Siegenthaler for two players in Mantha and Raffle who are older. Mantha's not MUCH older but it's still older and a little bit concerning.

Also, Mantha is signed for SO MANY MORE YEARS. And like ugh I don't know if I want that. I know nothing about him but three more years sounds UGH right now. I don't want it. Go away. I get the feeling I'm gonna feel about him like I feel about Nick Jensen: you were traded for and replaced a sweet boy that I loved, so now you are my enemy. It's no fault of your own, but you're my enemy. I at least hope you're better at hockey than Nick Jensen.

Oh, and one more thing: the deadline came and went, you made all these moves and STILL DIDN'T GET A FUCKING DEPTH CENTER. You got TWO WINGERS. GMBM did you not see the circus that was the "everyone is hurt and we're resorting to having TJ Oshie play center" part of the season? If there was going to be ONE thing I would have asked for at the deadline, it would have been a depth center. Because currently on your roster you have literally no money to call anyone up, and if any one of the four centers go down it's big trouble, and TJ should NOT be playing center again!!!!!! Dear god!!! You failed on your one (1) task!!! Neither of these guys you got are centers!!!! What are you doing!!!!!!!

GMBM…blockbuster moves at the deadline have never been your forte. Remember the disaster that was the Kevin Shattenkirk trade? Stop doing this shit. You know what works? Supplemental moves that don't disrupt the balance of the whole team. Stick to the Brenden Dillon and Carl Hagelin level trades. You know what your gold mine of a deadline trade was? The Michal Kempny trade. Which was, surprise, a supplemental move and not a blockbuster one. And I'm gonna tell you that outright: you're never going to strike oil like that again. Not ever again. A Michal Kempny only happens once. Please stop trying to force something magic to happen by doing something crazy and stupid. You can't just go LOOKING for a Michal Kempny on purpose, and the big trades where you ship off an important, beloved top 6 member of your team is certainly not where you're going to find it. I'm just…stop.

Frankly, GMBM, I'm getting tired of you. You've tested my patience. You emotionally destroyed me to my core with the Marcus Johansson trade (which I STILL have not forgiven you for, and never will), and banishing Vrana to Detroit of all places might be the last straw. I'm gonna say the same thing I always do when trades like this happen: prove me wrong. I fuckin DARE you to prove me wrong. I for one am VERY displeased with this move in every possible way, both in my feelings and my logical hockey brain. Show me that I am wrong, otherwise it's going to be bad news for you in the future. I really think you made the wrong, wrong move here.

[heirloomseedsolutions]

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double yield cucumber : Double Yield Cucumber was Introduced by the Joseph Harris Seed Company in Coldwater, New York in 1924. Ideal for pickling and fresh eating.

dragon tongue bush bean : Dragons Tongue Bush Bean - he primary use of this bean is for snap beans when the pods are young and covered with thin purple stripes.

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German butterball potato : German Butterball Potato is an excellent all-purpose variety, good for roasting, frying and especially for mashed potatoes.

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golden zucchini : Golden Zucchini - Originally introduced by W. Atlee Burpee from material they received from Dr. Shifress of Rutgers University.

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lacinato kale : Lacinato Kale is a rather primitive open kale with 3" wide strapped leaves that are 10 inches long on 2-3 inches tall plants. (aka Dinosaur)

late flat dutch cabbage : Late Flat Dutch Cabbage Is The best choice for a slow growing, late season cabbage. - Brought to America by German immigrants in the 1840’s

lavender plant : Lavender Plant - Popular in soaps, shampoos and fragrances, but is also a natural remedy for insomnia, anxiety, depression.

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lemon drop pepper : Lemon Drop Pepper - Robust plants are about 2' tall and covered with 2 inches long fruits that ripen to bright yellow - 100 days from transplant

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THESE UFO DISCLOSURES WHICH ARE REALLY KIND OF BASIC IN THE WHOLE SCHEME OF THINGS UFO IS A There Is Power Utility Workers Union Of America In A Union T Shirt DISTRACTION IN MY OPINION FROM THE SECRET SPACE PROGRAM WHICH IS WHERE ALL THE INFORMATION IS IN BEING HELD BUT FOR THE TIME BEING WE WANTED TO REALLY REPORT ON THIS THE NEXT LARGE VIDEO WE HAVE IS A FEATURED VIDEO AS THE PENTAGON RELEASES HAD THREE LEAKED VIDEOS AND THIS IS THE MAKING IT ALMOST BASICALLY THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE NOW UFOS ARE REAL THEN THE OUT OF IDENTIFIED WHICH IS INSIDE AMERICA’S UFO INVESTIGATION FULL EPISODES SO IT’S REALLY LEAKING OUT FROM THE GOVERNMENT IS OUT OF THERE TO START THE BLUEBOOK PROGRAM AGAIN AND AGAIN TO REACTIVATE ALL THE STUFF AGAIN IS IT’S OLD NEWS IT’S LIKE FINE EVERYBODY. I agree to have a bad habit film the thing of the year is one quarter of the way done are you getting about thereand understand that they can do it by award season good luck to them I can see why they want to do itand I agree with you at all three of arms like if one said yeah then you may be one offer you like scheme for years now actually get it done I feel like the atticand get it done hopefully to get the crew to get it doneand I’m loving regardless of where you stand on any of him when that team comes together you got admit I made actingand directing wise this is going to be a film that may very well be up for an award I don’t know because I do hey I said that about silence when I first site on the over silencing is out to go down but I look forward to itand then that good luck. We listen to medical experts sleep with a lot of working autoworkers into little help from the lighthouse we executed our plan we saved thousands of just managing if we had a national strategy so everyone who a test For Free so Everyone Has Access to Searches and Educators Have the Resources They Need to Get Back to School with Joe Biden Harassment Lighthouse We Will Still Biden Harris Will Lead by Example Will Be Signing Not Politics or Ego Will Drive Their Decision Now with the Health of Our People Goes Hand In Hand with Strength of Our Economy May Now Action Begets Action over the past Few Months We Learn What Essential Rising to the Challenge Not to Leave Learned Who Is Essential to Just the Wealthiest among Us President Who Fights His Fellow Americans Rather Than Fight the Virus Killing in Our Economy It’s the People Who Put Their Own Health Risk to Care for the Rest of Us Day at MVPs and Nurses and Doctors Utility Workers Truck Drivers and Grocery Clerks Childcare Workers

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