#(this is not to scare people about doing their own taxes - if you have a normal ass job you can do it)

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.12 how you get the girl

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

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

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

ᰔ chapter. 12/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 11.3k

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

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

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

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

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

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

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

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

11:14am you: or be square?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have to close your eyes though.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe?”

“Yes. Maybe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods at you in approval.

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

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

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

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

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

And then the kickoff starts. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1-1, even match.

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

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

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

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

2-1, UTokyo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3-1, UTokyo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head and wait for his response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes scan down the sideline until they find you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yours?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Of what?” Your face twists with confusion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All you can do is watch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

H–

Huh?!?!?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then the halftime timer is up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3-2.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The stadium erupts with the momentum.

4-3, UTokyo. 

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

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

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

The referee chirped his whistle, and the kickoff began.

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

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

And the ball lands in the net. 

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

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

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

The referee chirps his whistle. 

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

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

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

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

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

5-4, UTokyo’s win.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

.

.

[end of kickoff ch12]

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

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

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

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

➸ you're all caught up!

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

taglist:

@megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed

@wynney @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

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

@foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress

@tsukikourito @pickuptruck01 @gabriiiiiiii @4y3sh4 @tiredflame132

@cliosunshine @btszn @izayas-rings @semra4 @ethereally-lyann

@drthymby @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010

@joemama-2 @horisdope @banenemilk @nanasukii28 @spindyl

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

@chwesuh-imnida @megumisthirdog @imjustaweirdnerd @angelicscribe

[taglist is closed]

[thelaurenshippen]

I just think that if you pay a subscription for a service it should be illegal to then have pop-ups asking you to pay for more stuff. I want to kill intuit with hammers

[snaillock]

would you do satosugu discovering their "friend" (both of them have a fatass crush on m!reader) is a teen dad, and just all of them chaotically taking care of a baby. (like those collage students raising a baby tiktoks?)

ok so technically i only write for blue lock buttttttttttt… i am more than willing to make an exception for this. this is also my favorite niche of satosugu fics so im super honored someone requested it from me

tags: male reader has a foster daughter bc hell yeah girl dads, unnamed child bc that's too much for me, reader is a sorcerer, found family but in a janked up kinda way, whipped satosugu, pre-hidden inventory so everyone is in high school in this this a long one yall

part two coming soon!

★ when assigned an extremely harsh mission, you find an orphaned child barely a year old within all the rumble. you soon found out her family was recently killed in the destruction. unsure of what would happen to her after this, you decided to take her as your own.

★ scared of any judgment, you didn’t tell anyone about her so only a few higher-ups were aware. luckily you were allowed to live off campus so you two could have more space and privacy.

★ however the physical effects of raising a kid all on your own at such a young age were certainly showing. you came to school visibly worn down, often falling asleep in the middle of class and taking more absences than usual.

★ the first people to notice, of course, were gojo and geto. as nosy as they were, they tried not to push it, knowing you had just come back from a really taxing mission. though they did get more and more suspicious whenever you didn’t let them visit your new place.

★ however one day, they did spot you out in public wearing a baby carrier with, of course, a baby they’d never seen before resting right inside. they immediately came up to you and bombarded you with multiple questions before you got them to chill out and explained everything.

★ wanting you to take some time off (and win you over), they offer to take care of her regularly. who were you to refuse? after all, it is free babysitting and you were already using up so much money hiring actual babysitters.

★ during their first babysitting job, you thanked them profusely before going back into your room and instantly falling asleep the moment your body hit your bed, taking a very well-deserved nap.

★ you see, gojo was already pretty hesitant about you having a kid around. this was before he took in megumi so he found basically any child gross and annoying. (though he’s somehow even more attracted to you now that you’re a dad.)

★ coughs dilf lover gojo i mean what?

★ so when gojo picked up your baby for the first time, she immediately cried when they made eye contact and he got so so personally offended that he started rethinking this whole babysitting thing.

★ the first thirty minutes or so of taking care of your kid went pretty okay. that was until she started crying again and neither of them knew why.

★ you see, these idiots have no idea how to care for a child.

★ they frantically tried to calm her down and figure out what was wrong without needing to wake you. they checked if she was hurt in any way, she definitely wasn’t hungry since they already fed her, nor did she need to be changed. gojo even called shoko to see if she could do anything.

★ when they eventually saw her crawling towards your room and sobbing right outside your door, hesitantly let her in to see her climb onto your bed and lay down with you, realizing she just missed you the whole time. that entire experience made them so exhausted that they almost climbed into bed with you. but when they saw the gratitude on your face after you woke up, it made it all worth it.

★ luckily the next few times they watched over her, babysitting got more and more easy as she grew used to them.

★ they start coming over so often to look after her that your place basically becomes their second home.

★ geto is in charge of doing her hair since the last time gojo attempted it, it was just a big mess of hair ties and ribbons. geto’s definitely not complaining since he loves to get her ready. in fact, geto does a lot of the responsible stuff when taking care of her since gojo, hmm what’s a nice way to put it, lacks a lot of the necessary skills.

★ oh yeah, remember what i said about gojo hating younger children? yeah, that completely changes as he spends more time with your daughter. he’s almost always playing with her or showing up with a brand new toy or stuffed animal just for her. he ends up loving her so so much and wants to be her cool fun dad.

★ unfortunately both of them are way too nice when it comes to disciplining her. they let her get away with so much. late bedtimes, too much tv, grabbing any treats she wants off the grocery store shelves. how can they not spoil such an adorable little girl like her!?

★ what’s also unfortunate is how they try to drag you into it.

“come on, y/n. let loose a little. cake for dinner does sound pretty appetizing right now.”

“come on. just let her watch ten more minutes before bed.” gojo lazed on the couch with her on his lap. “besides this cartoon is starting to get good.”

“come onnn… just let her buy it.” geto held up a sparkly pink dress you already told him she doesn’t need with his own sparkles in his eyes. “she’ll look so cute in it. i promise i’ll pay you back.”

★ their hearts explode whenever you’re affectionate with her. they love the way you gently rock her in your arms while humming a sweet lullaby, slowly lulling her to sleep. the way they see you kiss her forehead after placing her into the crib before quickly turning around and acting like they weren’t staring the whole time. they fall head over heels for you for probably the twentieth time by now since they met you but those times were definitely the hardest.

★ they’ve been in her life for a good while so when she begins talking more frequently, she starts calling them her papas as she does with you. gojo aka former “ugh kids are so gross and icky” feels his heart combusting whenever she calls him that and he owns that title proudly. meanwhile geto feels so endeared and honored that she sees him that way.

★ “we’re not the stepdads. we’re the dads that stepped up!” looking asses.💀

★ the secret of you having a kid doesn’t last for long since these two can’t keep quiet about it. they’re just way too happy and want to show her off. especially gojo who scrolls through 100s of photos of her while gushing about her to basically anyone who’ll listen. shoko and nanami are the most common targets whenever this happens.

★ he even ends up showing photos of you and your daughter napping together (that you had no idea he took), making you snatch his phone away in embarrassment.

★ whenever you guys go out on family dates to go to the beach or picnicking, geto always takes the time to dress her up with pretty hairstyles and cute little outfits. he absolutely loves doting on her.

★ they love her with all their hearts and would do absolutely anything for her. she’s so lucky to have three weird dads take care of her and raise her. a very odd and… unconventional family dynamic but an amazing one nonetheless. this family only grows bigger and bigger once gojo takes in megumi and geto practically adopts mimiko and nanako.

please read my rules before following

taglist: @userwithlotsoftime @lucas2060 @kiiyoooo

ayo we rocking with the star bullet points?? 🗣️⁉️

[sukunasweetheart]

actor!sukuna!!!

warnings; fem reader, jjk manga spoilers, a bit of both submissive and dominant sukuna, and also sukuna who loves his domineering wife a little too much, smut and fluff at the end, breeding, choking, use of collar and leash (on sukuna), rough sex, lots of teasing and provoking

i really really adore the trope where actors who play utterly vile, evil villain roles all the time simply bc of their intimidating appearance but their real personality is rather sweet and gentle, and i desperately want to apply this to sukuna. they would've probably needed to cast a whole different man for his trueform, which is what inspired this idea <3<3

actor!sukuna is oh so very notorious for his antagonistic roles, always always being the charismatic, devilish character in any film, tv series or dramas he's casted in, the ones that always somehow has the upper hand, who never shows care for anyone else, who always seems to have control over everything in all situations he's put into...

and the recent hit series 'jujutsu kaisen' is exactly the same. with him being the king of curses, having those extra cgi arms and tummy mouth and having to spend hours before shooting simply doing the makeup for the distorted side of his face. not to mention all those tattoos!

actor!sukuna, who loves his job, but sometimes gets exhausted by the kinds of roles he has to play. he's gotten so used to it, his normal facial expressions and mannerisms also may have changed a little because at times he gets himself too immersed into his character

and you might say fiction doesnt cross over to real life at the best of times, but for sukuna, it might not be the case... he's noticed over the years that people around him do truly get scared or intimidated by him. and like any celebrity, he has his own fair share of haters.

with his character's newest victim being the fans' beloved gojo satoru, it only aggravated them-- and he knew from the moment he read the script that he was going to get flamed for it. he's used to this but because of jjk's intense popularity, he actually gets a little concerned this time around...

thankfully, thankfully! he has a wife he can run home to and seek comfort from, and fully let go of this fictional persona of his.

actor!sukuna, who is often burdened with the unconscious expectations from others, to have his intimidating aura and always have control over situations (maybe sometimes people)...

but he is able to put all of this down in front of you and just lay in your lap in front of the tv as you play with his pink curls.

oh, he's so grateful for his wife, who fulfills his hidden desires... his wife, who didn't see him only by his villainous roles, but also took notice of his gentler side and decided to grab hold onto that part of him with an iron grip instead.

actor!sukuna may be a man well over two metres tall, with a resting bitch face and a deep, velvety voice perfect for being a natural dominant and aggressive lover-- which, sometimes he is of course, when the situation calls for it (whenever you feel like you want to be dominated) - but in actuality, he aches to be controlled for the most part, rather than the one controlling...

when he told you about his worries of his real life reputation, of how people on set seem to avoid him subtly, and get a bit over-polite with him, you sent a handful of extravagant food and drink trucks over to the shooting set in sukuna's name, raising the spirits of his colleagues, the camera and film crew members etc., and of course, sukuna himself.

and everytime he has any complaints about his job, you comfort him by saying that if he ever feels like it's too much, he can quit anytime he wants, because you'd be happy to be him support financially as long as he'd be your househusband *wink wink*

actor!sukuna laughs at the thought, but there are times where he seriously considers it... he is getting older, and sometimes doing all these action scenes as the villain is taxing on his body... (perhaps after jjk is over, he'll take a well deserved, long break from his career for a little while)

before getting married, from the moment sukuna first interacted with you, he was already hooked- you flirted with him openly without expecting him to take lead, and you talked less about his various identities in his shows, but showed more curiosity in his true self, and he was simply attracted to your... fearlessness?

and a part of him tried to fight against it too, but you were simply too charismatic. (it only charmed him more)

"you're an awfully cocky woman. you sure you can take me on?"

"take you on? oh, no, handsome. you'll be the one taking me on. i'll have you wrung out dry by the end of this week... if you'll let me, of course."

and that, he did.

fast forward to the present.

sukuna had come home without erasing all the makeup from his filming of jjk, to your curiosity...

"the king of curses, was it? the name of this character," you ask with a relaxed voice, watching as sukuna's large cock throbs between his legs, drooling precum messily into his boxers. ironically, you're the one lying against your back on the bed, with him hovering over your body longingly, but not being permitted to touch you... yet.

you'd put a collar around his neck. and you have him leashed, with the rope being in your hand. he has you between his arms that are supporting his body weight... muscles flexing and sweat dripping down his skin from his own arousal.... he was supposed to be tired from today's filming session but right now, his whole body is heating up like boiling water in a kettle. how cruel of you to do this to him, right after he gets home from work.

you loop the rope around your fingers once, and tug on the leash harshly, making his face shift closer to yours.

"i'd like to hear an answer, please."

"...yes, the king of curses," sukuna hisses, eyeing the leash that both turns him on and also pisses him off simultaneously.

"interesting..." you hum with a smile, gently touching the fabricated side of his face that's been made with make up.

"i do have to say, the tattoos and black nails fit you so well, my love."

sukuna remains silent as he resists the urge to kiss you, with your lips hovering so close to his.

"don't fuck me with your eyes, honey. you're making yourself too obivous," you tease, ghosting your fingers over his chest, touching him languidly. his dick swells even more.

"darling, please... i need to touch you," sukuna says, softspoken and yearning so hard it makes him dizzy.

"oh... i love when you beg like that. what would your fans think, if they saw their most cold-blooded villain pleading me like this?"

with a collar and leash on, no less.

"it wouldn't matter what they think. you're the only one i love," he responds, shuddering as you nudge your knee against the erection in his pants.

"i like that answer."

you kiss him, which is an act that means you're permitting him to finally lay his hands on you - and this breaks the restraint he'd been holding onto until now.

sukuna kisses you back with a throaty growl, slipping his tongue in to smother you with, as your lips are curled up into a pleased smile. drunk on the taste of you, he doesn't stop kissing until he's had his fill. both of you are breathing heavily when he finally pulls away, his face being flushed beautifully.

large hands come to tug away at your clothes, exposing the swell of your chest, and he clamps his lips around one of your nipples, like a man starving... you gasp, and tug at his soft hair from the back, the other hand still gripping onto the rope that connects with his collar.

you arch your back when he nips on them a little, earning him a hiss from you and another harsh tug at his leash. when he comes up to face you once again, he's wearing a smirk with foggy eyes, satisfied with this small payback.

once he finally comes around to releasing his strained cock, he gives a sigh of relief. the tip is glistening with his precum, and he wants to be buried in your cunt so bad. he slides it in with one go.

"oof, always so big, aren't you?" you tell him, feeling his throbbing dick reach so deep inside. it's not your first time saying such a thing, so he knows you mean it as a compliment. it inflates his ego.

"fuck- you feel so good," he mumbles mindlessly, pushing your thighs back.

sukuna begins to thrust into you, his heavy balls slapping down against your ass as he starts with a slow pace. another tug of his leash gets him to stop again.

"c'mon, love. is that all you can do?" you urge him, your grip still strong on his rope. he narrows his eyes, and pushes your thighs back harder, and begins to slam his hips into you, the way you love it.

"f-fuck... harder, sukuna... harder-" you moan as you keep taunting him with several pulls of his leash.

"tug that thing one more time..." he mutters with a low, out of breath voice, "and i'll make you regret it."

you love it when he's submissive, but even more so when he's in the mood to put his foot down. but you're not giving in so easily. you give it another tug, playfully.

"try me."

from then on, he snaps and decides he'll give you your own "collar".

his hand.

you squeal in delight as he roughs you up from his grip on your throat, to the biting, and to the bruising pace of his thrusts, all harmonising to bring you to your orgasm...

when sukuna cums, he does so right against your cervix, spilling all his thick, hot seed into your womb, with a loud groan. he's sucking a hickey onto your shoulder as he does so, full body shuddering with each clench of his balls as he dumps more into you. your pussy squeezes around him, fingernails digging deeply into his muscled back, feeling blissful.

he soon collapses onto you, and you start playing with his hair again, as he rests momentarily, being spent after the rough sex that happened when he'd just come back home. you'll need to reward him later for this.

in the bathroom, you help him scrub away all those tattoos, and tear off that falsified right side of his face. he appreciates this, especially the ones on his back that are difficult to reach. in the tub, you sit between his legs, and lean back as he dotes on you, calloused hands not leaving anywhere of you untouched.

once the bathing is finished, you do his nightly skin care routine for him. an actor's gotta preserve their skin, you know. before the moisturizer though, you press a soft kiss onto his pure face, clean of tattoos, and hum with a pleased expression.

"i love this one more, after all."

he huffs out a chuckle and pulls you onto his lap.

"hah. the king of curses ought to cry real tears with envy."

he clings onto you all night, face buried into your chest, indulging in the feeling of being the little spoon.

Masterlist

Tagging: @yuujispinkhair and @gojos-thot-patrol (who encouraged the leash idea...)

credit and link to the cute heart dividers here

[seat-safety-switch]

When people come to my town, they seem to assume that the Great Magnet is a metaphor, or a tourist trap at worst. I can assure you, dear reader, that it is neither. For reasons unknown to me, our town forefathers – and one foremother who tried to pull out of the project when she figured out which way the wind was blowing – built a really big electromagnet in the centre of town. And then they realized that there was no way to power it on.

For hundreds of years, it has sat immobile as Town Hall was built around it, just daring someone to devise a power supply stronger than those they had available in 1802. Sure, a lot of fancy-pants industrial designers tried to get the eight-storey-tall electromagnet removed. It clashed with their vision for the productive space. Thing is, the town's founding laws say "no touchy the magnet," so they couldn't do much about the magnet. The magnet, that is, and its massive copper lugs sticking out the back, begging for a little bit of hot sauce.

Now, even without electricity, a chunk of ferrous material this large has some strange effects. The weather around it is really cold, and occasionally seagulls will loop infinitely around it until they drop from exhaustion, their internal sense of navigation disrupted by some passing force that has coupled into the magnet and gently charged its field. During the town Egg Festival, you could occasionally hear the AM radio Community Events Cruiser's broadcast through its surface, until Shopkeeper Ted drunkenly touched the surface of the Great Magnet and was instantly reduced to ash.

We'll switch it on one day, we tell each other. Big nuclear plant just opened a few towns over, that's got enough beef to spin it up. And then we look around at all the cool shit we own that's made out of metal, more than there ever was over 200 years ago. We think about all the things we have to lose.

Sometimes, on the Magnet's annual anniversary night speech, The Mayor will sometimes try to scare us with the size of the power bill, the magnitude of our tax dollars, that it would take to let 'er rip, just this once, as if the spectre of a few bucks a month extra would discourage us further from turning on a machine that would cleave the world in half.

[nekropsii]

People in the Cronus v. Vriska debate will also completely ignore that Cronus. Really wants to kill people. He just says that. No obfuscation included.

He doesn’t even have any excuse for it. Vriska killing people makes sense because she grew up on Alternia and had to feed her Lusus. Cronus just wants to kill people because he wants to do murder-eugenics and is really fucking mad murder-eugenics isn’t legal and does in fact have social consequences. Cronus just wants to kill disabled people for being disabled and not get in trouble for it. He explicitly says he wishes culling “meant what it should have” on Beforus.

Vriska was born and raised on Alternia, and that’s not her fault. It is, in fact, an entirely new level of fucking deranged to want Alternian laws to be real. Growing up in a system where killing people deemed below you is okay is different from wishing you lived in a system where killing people deemed below you is okay, because growing up there inherently means that that is already normal to you, while wishing that was the case inherently means it is not normal to you, you just want more harm to befall specific out groups (the lower class, the disabled, etc.) and to hurt more people in more violent ways.

People also love to casually ignore that Cronus is a grown adult. Like, sure, he’s 19, and 19 years old is pretty young in the grand scheme of things, but he is still a grown ass man who knows better. Him knowing better and simply not caring is literally a major part of his character. He is a grown ass man who can make his own legal decisions and live on his own. He can pay taxes. He could buy a house. He could invest in the stock market. In some countries, he can legally drink. He can drive. He can drink and drive. He can go die in the military. He’s grown. He’s a grown ass man. Vriska is 13. That is a child. Like, a CHILD child. Vriska is a middle school child. This is the difference between a middle schooler and a college student. Think of how mentally developed you were at 13. You weren’t even done with puberty yet. You’re not even done growing at that age. Cronus can fucking vote. He can go to adult prison. If you spotted a kid Vriska’s age out roaming the street with no guardian in sight, you’d probably be worried.

A major part of Cronus’s character is that he is a terrible person by choice, willingly, knowingly, and does not care. He is making a decision. Him being shitty and awful is a conscious choice he is making. He knows he is hurting people, and he knows what he is doing is terrible, and he does not care. Cronus knows that trying to bang children 6 years his junior is bad. He doesn’t care. He knows he is abusing Mituna, he calls it abuse, and he knows abuse is bad. He doesn’t care. He knows sex crimes are bad. He doesn’t care. He’s too entitled to care about anyone but himself and his own gratification.

Vriska is a 13 year old anti-hero who literally gets groomed and is shown to only be Like That because she is extremely traumatized and her experience of living on Alternia has made it so her guard is up 24/7. She literally cannot put the metaphorical swords down. She thinks it’s the only thing keeping her alive.

Cronus does not have an excuse.

That is, like… The Point.

The point is that he sucks and is irredeemable. He doesn’t have a single quality that makes standing around him worthwhile. He’s a relentless, unapologetic abuser. He just doesn’t care. He’s the most entitled man to ever live. He sees people as punching bags and sex toys, and any time this notion is rejected or faces even the slightest pushback, he freaks the fuck out about it.

And the point with Vriska is that she is complicated, and a child. A really, really traumatized, really, really scared child.

I don’t know, I think there’s a party here that is objectively worse.

… And - hear me out! - I think… I think it’s the adult sex predator… And not the child.

[usermakki]

ㅤ· ₊ ⊹ · ₊ ⊹ · ᴀᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ ᴍᴇɴ + ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ;

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ; neteyam, lo’ak, tsu’tey, jake, ao’nung, rotxo x reader

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ; fluff so much fluff, aged-up!characters, dreamwalker!human!reader, na’vi!reader, gender neutral, dreamwalker!jake, established relationship, lowercase intended, the alternative tittle was avatar men + non-sexual dominance lol

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ; eyes off you by prettymuch

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ; this literally took me hours to write because my attention kept shifting to other things damn..

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

・・・・・・ ɴᴇᴛᴇʏᴀᴍ

﹒ɞ  answers questions meant for you neteyam is frighteningly attentive to your state of mind, any and all telling signs and gestures are swiftly picked up by your boyfriend. the moment he notices your brief hesitation when faced with a question or some probing from a fellow clan member, be it because you're in a cranky mood or scared, he's quick to step up and answer on your behalf. as long as you're comfortable, he doesn't mind being the mediator in the relationship.

﹒ɞ  hunts and prepares your meal as a mate, neteyam is a provider through and through. you'll never be short on anything, not if he can do something about it. "do you want mushroom steak or roasted sturmbeest ? oh, beanpod potato ? noted, i'll be quick then." neteyam prides himself on his unmatched hunting prowess, and he relishes in your praise and beaming face every time he enters your home with his catch in hands. your mate always takes your cravings and wants into account, and he takes great pleasure in preparing your meal, all the while you cuddle yourself to his side in anticipation.

﹒ɞ  enforces your boundaries he's always ready to ensure that no one takes advantage of your kindness. neteyam understands, how hard it is to deny a request, and he gets how mentally and physically taxing being everyone's go-to person is, honestly. he doesn't want you running around, losing sleep, and spreading yourself thin over someone else's business. "we'd appreciate it if you could do this on your own." even if, in order to do that, he needs to use a little force. you can rest assured that neteyam will always have your back.

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ʟᴏ'ᴀᴋ

﹒ɞ  makes way for you by drawing back the flap of a tent open as he stands to the side, holding onto your hand behind his back as he shoulders his way through the people, ushering you over to sit alongside him during meals. your home is right by him and he wants you there always, so he makes space for you wherever he is. lo’ak loves spending all of his available time with the one he loves most, and as long as he's around, you will always have a place in the world.

﹒ɞ  defends your reputation lo'ak's troublemaker abilities are well known within the clan since he was a small kid, and while he's been discouraged from those practices since getting with you, that doesn't mean he won't resort to some quarrel or ruthless prank to get back at someone who dares to bad-mouth, belittle or disrespect you. you've had to patch up your boyfriend a handful of times because of that, and despite being apprehensive of the consequences that await him, you fall deeper in love with him each time. "stop it! that's so cheesy. i'm not your silent protector, ew."

﹒ɞ  interrupts people who interrupt you if there's one thing Lo'ak hates more than being talked over, is when people talk over you. the sight of your beautiful features twisting into a frown is like a punch to the stomach. he doesn't care whom it is you're talking to either; your friends, his siblings, your siblings, a tutor, or an experienced warrior, the least he expects is for them to respect you. and he's relentless about it too, not backing down until you finish your sentence. “they weren’t done speaking."

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ᴛꜱᴜ’ᴛᴇʏ

﹒ɞ  escorts your rides it has become customary for the people to see tsu'tey accompanying you high and low–through the communal spaces and deep into the forest. his commanding hands constraining your pa'li as you struggle to conduct it, occasionally galloping behind you with his strong arms secured tightly around your waist to keep you from falling over. and he is even more fretful during your flights, hovering with his banshee close to yours, calling out directions. tsu’tey was chosen by the olo'eyktan himself to educate you in their ways, to teach your untrained eyes to see–and he’s nothing if not a proficient and devoted teacher. he's always ready to catch you.

﹒ɞ  weaves your garments it really surprised you at first, catching sight of tsu'tey weaving a loincloth with his battle–hardened hands. craft-making is a proficiency for every na'vi, they are taught and encouraged to practice it from a young age, seeing that they do not partake in selling or buying their clothing and utilities from others. since you were not born into those traditions, tsu'tey gladly takes it into his own hands to weave and gift you pretty, colorful, and fitting loincloths, tops, and other items to adorn your avatar body. "is it to your liking ?" he puffs out his chest in pride as you voice your approval, and he also grunts on all the occasions you mention picking up on weaving for yourself. 

﹒ɞ  dresses you in your battle attire tsu'tey has always been gentle with you, and it's no different whenever he assists you in dressing and painting yourself for war and raids against the RDA. And you love it, the glide of his cold fingers against your warm skin, the grip on your shoulder as he adjusts the strapped sheath of your knife across your chest, the sight of him on his knees before you as he fastens your leg band. but in special, you love experiencing how much of an endearing person tsu'tey can be, for you only. "here, let me put it on you. turn around." 

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ᴊᴀᴋᴇ

﹒ɞ  lights your cigarettes you have a frustrating habit of losing all of the lighters you've brought along to–more like snuck into–pandora. they're never inside your pockets, on your baggage, or in your wardrobe and shelf when you ransack them for it. after noticing that, jake started keeping a spare lighter and matches inside the pockets of his pants and backpack for whenever you need them. he beckons you closer, with a flame already lit, "i got you, sweetheart." and when you lean down, cigarette in between lips, he never misses the kiss placed on your chin. 

﹒ɞ  talks you out of trouble unconventionally, you and jake have always shared an attitude. your fuse, however, is much shorter than his. so he has to resort to pulling you into a corner and sweet talking you into not doing some dangerous stuff he would clearly do if given the chance. "yeah, but this isn't about me. i'm trying to stop you from getting killed." it might be more stress than he signed up for, but jake definitely wouldn't trade you for the world. and in his defense, he manages to hold your trigger finger alright, for the most part. those other times, he joins you in whatever it is you plan on doing. 

﹒ɞ  pulls on pitcher leaves for you to drink from after so many years, your boyfriend has developed a deep knowledge and connection with pandora. and so, jake readily teaches you what he's learned from the omatikayan people–half to impress you, and half because he doesn't want you going through what he did on his first day on the field. one of his favorite past times is to take you on an expedition to the forest, where he tugs on the leaf of a pitcher plant for you to drink rainwater from. and you have half a mind to remind him that you've done this enough times to know how it goes, but you simply comply and let him do as he pleases. and you also don't comment on how he sneakily shakes the leaf to get your white shirt wet.

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ᴀᴏ'ɴᴜɴɢ

﹒ɞ  looks after you ao'nung has always been a distant individual, and you were aware of that when you accepted his courting. but it pleasantly surprised you when, early into your relationship, he started to treat you more mindfully. "careful with your head, yawntu." he watches your blind spots during hunts, carries any heavy items you have to transport, accompanies you when out and about, keeps a hand on your back and arm at all times, and he doesn't eat before making sure you did. ao'nung's behavior is strikingly clear, especially in contrast to how detached he is from everyone else. and these gestures are all unconscious; to him, looking out for you is instinctual.

﹒ɞ  maintains your weaponry from the moment you and ao'nung became an item, he took it upon himself to cater to your well-being and safety, and he does that by also maintaining your knife and spear. after every hunt or occasion, he gently takes your weapons from your hands or sheath, and sharpens the blade and repairs its handle. the last thing ao'nung wants is for your blade to fail you in a moment of need. despite coming with and leading any hunt you're present in, for his peace of mind, he makes sure to preserve your weapons' integrity for the unavoidable moment he might not be there to protect you.

﹒ɞ  carries you around ao'nung proudly admits to spoiling you rotten, it is a clear sign of how good a mate he is to you. and at first, he never realized to what extent, until one night while returning to your dwelling, you leaned your body against his and tiredly demanded that he carry you inside. it was dark and only the two of you, so he complied. "but the marui is only a few feet away... fine, hop on." but now, despite grumbling a little, he always carries you on his back or arms to and from wherever place you want to go, to the entirety of the clan's bewilderment. but you don't overuse your power over him, so as not to embarrass him too much in front of his friends.

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ʀᴏᴛxᴏ

﹒ɞ  collects trinkets for you garments in rotxo's most humble opinion, you are unarguably the prettiest person in the whole clan. he knows how much you love to adorn pretty armbands, necklaces, and headpieces–it only adds to your charms. and so, as the dutiful boyfriend he is to you, he carefully scouts the surface of the sea bed in search of the prettiest and most iridescent shells, rocks, and crystals to weave into your garments. "i made you a new headpiece, yawntutsyìp. did you like it ?" whenever and wherever he is, rotxo makes sure to keep an eye out for flowers, beads, leaves, bones, talons, and teeth to add to the impressive collection of garments he has woven for you. seeing you walk around all dolled up, showing off his creations, is a sure way to make him all sheepish. 

﹒ɞ  fixes your appearance the most distinct trait of rotxo's love is, undoubtedly, his heedfulness toward you. he's always gazing, watching, looking out for you, and whenever he notices something out of place he's quick to fix it. he brushes your hair back into place, fastens your loosening armband, reaches over someone else to pull a leave from your hair, adjusts the belt of your loincloth, he's doing whatever it takes to tidy you up. and honestly, you love the gesture and he aims to keep you content.

﹒ɞ  always at your beck and call he could be sleeping, at the bottom of the ocean, elbow deep into some important work; before you can even think about asking him to do something for you or with you, rotxo's already on his way to ask you if you need him. whatever it is, he's always down, no questions asked. "of course, i can! we can do this right now." sometimes your requests might be answered with a pout, a grimace, and even a few seconds of hesitation, but he'll still do the thing for you, even if to make sure you won't get yourself killed. besides, spending more time with his adorable mate is never a bad thing in rotxo's book.

lovehina© 2023 All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify or claim my work as your own.

[lynnscove]

Tomura Shigaraki/Tenko Shimura headcanons!!

I lied, these are basically just things I consider canon. Some actually are and I threw them in there cause I got off track. (A few of these r similar to my old hcs post about him,, but that's on a whole different account so we're gonna ignore it.) edit: actually this went 100% off track and I just started talking about fanon shiggy halfway through.

The urge to destroy everything used to be all consuming. Though when he met the league, they became his family. It was subconscious at first, but he didn't want to destroy everything anymore. He just wanted to destroy what hurt him, and what hurt his friends. As AFO began to take more and more control over him, he realized that he wanted to destroy AFO too. Even before AFO revealed what he did to him as a kid. That was a hard pill to swallow, since he'd been forced into the belief that AFO was the only person there for him, and the only person who loved/could love him as he is, meeting the league was the only thing that broke that belief.

He doesn't blame his sister in the slightest for anything that happened. He knows she was a child, just like he was, even if she was a bit older. He knows, and has accepted the fact that there's no way she could've predicted what was going to happen next. She was just stuck in a shitty home and didn't want to get in trouble for sneaking into their father's office. Though he does blame the rest of his family for not doing anything to help.

He dislikes bystanders nearly as much as he dislikes bad people, he can't stand those who make excuses about why something is happening instead of helping. Especially when it comes to adults. They really piss him off.

He really doesn't care about someone's power when it comes to joining the league, they're working towards a society where people aren't shoved aside for things they can't control so, why would he reject people who only want to help? (Like, he didn't reject Spinner when he joined the league, despite him having a pretty useless quirk compared to the others.).

He was a lil bit jealous when he saw stain merch at the mall. He wanted his own merch </3

He is NOT the introverted, touch hating, loser people make him out to be. In "encounter" he gets mad and then goes straight to a massive shopping mall😭. We rarely ever see him hiding away or rotting in his room. He's always available, always with the league, the most we see of him being alone is like,, him stepping out for 0.3 seconds to go take a breather. Not to mention he's VERY handsy. Pun intended. I think that if he didn't have a dangerous quirk, he'd be a lot more touchy (PLATONICALLY, YOU PERV) with his comrads.

He thinks about Mon and Hana more than the rest of his family,, ofcourse, he loves his mom and grandparents to an extent, but he still sees them as the adults who watched him be abused and never helped him. So ofcourse he thinks about the innocent more. He does understand that they were scared of his father too,, but it's always your responsibility as an adult to help a child in need.

His nails are neglected, always cracked/chipped

He lifts his pinkie even after he gains control over his quirk, it's a habit.

Villain work became a lot more taxing after the PLF formed, so it was a lot to take on. Especially since he'd been injured so badly he could barely stand.

Has played EVERY Zelda game to ever be made. ALL of them. He was on a MISSION to complete them all.

Decayed more than a few controllers‼️

He has to sleep with gloves/finger covers so that he doesn't decay his bed.

These started out as serious and now I'm just throwing random crap at you guys.

Instead of decaying his trash, he just stuffs it in bags and leaves it wherever he pleases. I like to think he has carpet flooring and doesn't wanna have to sweep dust out of it.

He had to get his room carpeted because he kept throwing his controllers around when he lost a game.

He has an insane amount of restraint over himself in every situation EXCEPT when he's playing video games.

Speaking of restraints..💕

He's lowk open to freakiness😞 not the way he is in fanfics, like he's not gonna bend you over and piss on you in an alleyway 0.5 seconds after meeting you, but if you're in a relationship he'd probably be open to a lot of stuff. He's one of those guys who just wants you to feel good.

Now 100% fanon shiggy headcanons, some nsfw. I'm sorry in advance.

He loves s3rl, and never left his nightcore phase.

Owns Minecraft creeper boxers.

Would give you the most ferocious, earth shattering, mind blowing, soul sucking head of your life n then look up at you with that stupid cat smile he does😞 THAT or give you this cocky look.

Would totes lose his shit n turn into a huffy puffy mess if you worshipped his cock

I'M SORRY IM EORRY KM6SORRY J DIDNT MEAN IT PLEASE FORGIVE MR

That's it. I ran out of ideas.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Can you do Alastor with an INFP reader please?

Alastor x Different Personality Type's Reader

HEADCANONS

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4

Turning this in to a mini series for my MBTI peoples

INFP (Mediator) Reader:

Alastor was confused by your head in the clouds personality. He found it odd that you were so attached to small objects or would hum a tune that brought a smile to your face. Being sensitive and easily startled was so weak in his eyes.

However, he enjoyed this weakness in you as well, the feeling he got when you sought protection from him. When you would be frightened or down, seeking him out swells his heart with a sense of pride that he has the sweet creative you needing him.

Your strong, empathetic nature scares him, as he can't open up well, yet you make it so easy. The way you can understand and mold your mind around the atrocities in his head baffles him but also excites him.

Alastor slowly becomes your biggest supporter. No matter what you choose as your passion, he is there cheering you on. When your head is in the clouds, he often pulls you down and reminds you of the endless possibilities if you actually put yourself to work instead of thinking about it.

You are your own worst critic, and Alastor hates that. He loves any art or medium you use to express yourself. You may find it to be the worst you have ever done, yet he sees all of your stuff as a masterpiece for him. Due to your doubts, he makes it a point to highlight you in his life if he gets any chance.

Overall, you two have an odd relationship. He is cold and calculating while you are up in the clouds daydreaming. Yet these polar opposites might work better than you two know since you can balance one another.

ESFP (Entertainer) Reader:

Your personality is intoxicating to Alastor. You have the silver tongue and pizzazz to have anyone listen to every word falling off your lips. You put on better shows than even he did, and that was admirable.

You have a keen eye for fashion, and you are the highlight of any event you go to, even if it is just out on the town. This is addicting to Alastor. He loves your style and will even seek your advice when it is time to pick out a new tux.

Your wit and charm come at a price, though. Sometimes, you outshine the Radio Host, making him worry about your health and well-being. Vox taking notice of you is a big no-no unless you are teasing and tormenting Vox with him.

Alastor dislikes your spending habits: flashy clubs, large bottles of booze, and brand-new clothes every week. It can get taxing, reminding you that you need to slow down and look at the bigger picture. Yet he can't help but fall for your words and spoil you, too.

Your lack of focus and commitment sometimes leaves the man irate as well, yet your ability to turn anything spontaneous in to an advantage has its perks. Just give him a heads up before you do anything too crazy and he can over look it.

Overall, you two are similar enough that, at times, it can hurt. Yet your ability to dazzle a room and potential new victims leaves you both at the top of the food chain. Just remember to pamper the poor deer so he knows he's important, too.

ENFJ (Protagonist) Reader:

It takes Alastor a long time to warm up to you. You give off goodie two-shoe vibes; let me help you wondering traveler vibes. He isn't a fan of that, seeing as he likes to do things in his sick and sadistic ways.

If you can crack his shell, though, he is thrilled at how meticulous and straightforward you are. He enjoys how you always have a plan and seem to take some of the responsibility of knowing everything off his hands.

When the battle for the hotel approached, you were one of the inspiring voices in the crowd. You managed to help get the whole team up and going when fighting off Adam. Yet you also managed to eat under his skin with the one-for-all-all-for-one crap.

If Alastor opens up to you, though, your go-getting attitude of figuring out how to help him with his plight is thrilling. When you speak of ending his contract, he is nothing but accepting and excited to see what you are capable of.

Your intensity is really overwhelming. You are just a powerhouse bulldozing through all his plans and ideas. However, you also give him the courage at times to stand up for what is right, allowing him to grow as a person.

Overall, you two are similar just as much as you are opposite. Alastor is an altruistic companion, whereas you are altruistic all the time. Things might work out if you can tone down your self-sacrificing persona.

ISFP (Adventurer) Reader:

You are a rare one indeed in Alastors' mind. You mind your own business and find yourself deep in the thralls of whatever magnificent work you have planned. You only bug him when it is truly insightful or helpful, allowing him to grow an appreciation for you.

Your inability to keep up with time, though, was just as frustrating as it was hilarious. Watching dear Charlie freak out that you were missing, only for you to appear out of nowhere following a bug, was entertaining. Yet he hated when you kept him waiting; he was an important man.

Alastor was startled when he found you hiding in his radio tower. It was just after an extensive bonding exercise, too, yet you were tinkering away in a corner. He startled you when he found you, finding it adorable how you begged for just ten minutes of quiet.

Alastor's Radio Tower would become your refuge for hiding from Charlie's crazy ideas and recharging. Alastor found your intelligent conversation and carefree attitude about his job refreshing. He truly enjoyed your little hiding days in his office.

When you get down on yourself because of lost motivation or even having an empty social battery, he is always there to help. He hates when you start having low self-esteem, but he does assist you as much as he can in rebuilding it.

Overall, your carefree and quiet demeanor is nice to Alastor. You pose no threat, and you definitely help lighten the air. Be mindful of overworking yourself, and maybe get a To-Do list or two so you stop being so hard on yourself.

[jiraisupportgroup]

why do you get to sit in your heated home with daddy’s money and tell everyone who can and can’t wear jirai kei?

I don’t usually respond to stuff like this, especially because I’m fairly certain this was just ripped from a popular j-fashion creators video, but:

I feel like I make it quite clear that when I talk about jirai kei it’s just my opinions. I openly state that I’m likely a dumbass and you should take my word with a grain of salt considering I’m not a spokesperson for the Jirai Kei community, I’m not an expert on Jirai Kei, I also don’t speak Japanese so I can’t rly access a lot of “OG” jirai kei content that launched the community.

Additionally: I’ve never stated that anyone can’t wear anything. The closest I’ve gotten to that is when I state that I don’t generally believe “jirai kei” is the appropriate term for the fashion (therefore you can’t rly “wear it” if we want to be super technical) or when I said that “fashion jirais” who complain about the community can fuck off.

Never at any point in that did I say that anyone can’t wear anything. If you want to wear girly kei or dark girly or larme or ryousangata or whatever the fuck you want to wear - by all means please do. My main point is if you don’t like the jirai kei community, don’t interact with it. You can post coords and find friends and have a lot of fun with the clothing if that’s want you want to do. You can buy Liz Lisa & MCM bags and generally live your best ryousangata life. You don’t have to interact with the jirai kei community to do that. Block the people you find annoying. Block tags, block accounts, block whatever you don’t want to see. No one is going to be mad at you for not wanting to interact with the “dark side” of jirai kei (as people love to call it for some reason) UNLESS you’re adamantly saying “the dark side is wrong” and then using a shitload of jirai-related tags. Other tags for these clothes exist. Separate the two if you want, I don’t give a fuck; jirai kei doesn’t own the clothing.

I’m not going to sit here and outright defend people in the jirai kei community posting people’s coords and bullying them, I’m not gunna sit here and defend the fatphobic or racist things that have been said on jirai kei twt. I will point out that those posts are not actually super common in the jirai kei community, and the people that post them generally aren’t very well liked by other landmines either, they also tend to be very young. It’s a really big community. There are going to be “bad apples” especially because it’s a community based around mental health issues. You can’t look at that handful of posts and say “the entire community is toxic and awful”. Venting & the like are very common, but it’s pretty rare that I see people actively posting hate like that, and there is a huge difference between the two. Most of the landmines I see are too scared to even make vague callout posts. Maybe that’s just Tumblr, idk, but honestly the amount of hate I see in this community is rather small.

Secondarily to your point; my house is not fucking heated. I can barely afford to run the AC in the summer or the heat in the winter - typically I turn it on when my BF is here and turn it off when he leaves to save money. I have my own apartment. I work for my own apartment. I can barely fucking afford it. I make about $2700 a month and my bills add up to be about $2400 a month (and it’s not like an expensive or nice apartment it’s literally full of roaches and my oven doesn’t work). I usually end up spending about $100 of the leftover on cat food, and then have $200 left over for gas to get to work AND food AND toiletries for the MONTH.

I don’t have “daddy’s money”. I live by myself about 8 hours away from my family; they don’t have shit to send me. My dad died 3 years ago and left us with 50k in debt because he decided paying taxes was optional. When that happened - I was making 17.50 an hour and I had the HIGHEST WAGE out of anyone in my family. I was trying to finish college which I was attending on a scholarship bc I couldn’t fucking afford it, I was working overtime, trying to organize my dad’s funeral bc no one else in my family could do it, and paying tax payments. “Daddy’s money” was a negative sum. I frequently send leftover cash to my family if there is any just to help them in any way I can.

The cute and nice things I can afford are typically bought either because I pick up overnight shifts at my secondary serving job or from sugar daddies. Although I stopped sugaring about 3 years ago.

I started working when I was 15. I started SW when I was 17 to help my family pay rent. I did SW from about 17 years old to 21 and stopped shortly after my father died because I didn’t have the time anymore. And I fucking hated it but it made money.

Don’t fucking come at me saying I’ve got a nice house and daddy’s money when I’m sitting in a roach-infested apartment that I work myself to the fucking bone for & I spent multiple years trying to pay off my dad’s debt.

Fuck right off with that dude.

[fanofstuff01]

PRISON AU IT IS!

AU by @rius-cave , although I added my own thoughts into it (For example, her idea was that Lute helping Adam but I wanted it to go more like the actual show, where I think Lute wouldn’t help Adam if he was a sinner.).

Tagging you @fightinsoda and @foreverpeachy2010 , hope you don’t mind.

Everyone’s roles:

People who’s in prison:

Lucifer: You’ll see

Husk/Hunter (I’m basic): Tax evasion/illegal gambling

Angel Dust/Anthony: That guy has a mafia family

Alastor: Spilling government secrets on radio (Still a serial killer)

Sir Pentious: Illegal weapon posession

Vox: Fraud

Valentino: Do I need to say something

Adam: Framed with murder

This is an all male prison yk

People out of prison:

Charlie: Law student

Emily: Also a law student

Vaggie: Fired cop

Lute: Cop

St Peter: Cop

Sera: Judge

Nifty: Canteen lady

Rosie: Prison nurse

Velvette: Crime partner of Vox, but managed to dodge going to prison

Do police officers can both patrol and do wardening? I have no idea. But this goes like that.

Also, sorry if this doesn’t has that much details. I tried not to copy @things-arent-what-they-seem66 ‘s fic. The next chapters will be better I swear.

ENJOYY!!!!

Also, I’ll post the new chapter of my favorite au a few hours later.

“Dad..?” A little kid came out from behind the desk where she was hiding and looked to his father. Why was his dad covered in red? And why wasn’t the person she didn’t knew moving? “Is he okay?”

“Don’t worry sweetie. It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine He can’t-“

“Stay away from her.” A slightly scared, but determined voice came from behind. “Charlie, come here.”

“Lily, you have to listen! He was going t-“

“I don’t care. Charlie, don’t go near him.” Lilith pulled her daughter to herself harshly and took her arm into her hands.

“I want to stay with daddy!” She fighted against her mother’s grip but she was too strong. Lilith gave Lucifer one more disgusted look and rushed to outside.

“LILITH!” Lucifer yelled as he wanted to go after them, but he froze when he heard someone shout.

“Stay where you are and raise your hands up in the air!” A police officer walked inside and pointed his gun to him.

Lucifer, who was still in shock, did what he said. He handcuffed him and guided him to a police car. He saw multiple polices around. Lilith was talking to one.

“I heard the intruder coming in. It was at my daughter’s room but instead of calling you, my husband decided to play the hero and end him himself. I’m hoping you will put an end to this.” Lilith’s eyes met with Lucifer’s, but she cut the eye contract. She couldn’t look him in the eye. All she saw was a murderer.

“I understand you ma’am. I hope you can get divorced easily.”

Lucifer then looked at his daughter. Oh, he could do anything to go near her, wipe her tears away, hug her and calm her down. Instead, he could just look at her. She teared her gaze from the stone floor and looked at her father. And at that moment, Charlie understood that her father wasn’t a monster like mommy said.

Lucifer only thought about how he failed as a dad while he was taken to prison.

— Today —

“Rise and cry you freaks!” Lucifer woke up with someone running their baton on the bars. It was loud.

“Mmmhm, that’s right! Get the fuck up before I make you.” He said.

Ah, of course. Officer Kadmon. A.k.a. the world’s biggest piece of shit. On his daily wisit.

“That mother fucker.” His cellmate groaned.

“Indeed.” He got up and grabbed one of his rubber ducks. Those always calmed him down.

“Whats the matter Morningstar? *random surname*? Uncomfortable?” Kadmon laughed at them, stopping at their cell.

“Nah, it’s more like a hotel to be honest.” He said calmly.

“Mocking me?” He hit their bars with his baton. “Too bad you’re not on the right position to do that right?”

“Don’t you have a better job to do?” The other guy spoke, annoyed.

“Aww, you don’t want me to break your other fingers? You want me to go the fuck away?” He said in a childish voice “Guess what! This is my fucking job you horse shit!” He laughed loudly, causing even more curse words. Shove that fucking stick up to your ass. Lucifer thought and stood up. Luckily the shithead didn’t realize.

“Goodbye bitches!” He kept walking but was immediately startled when the short prisoner squeaked the rubber duck on his hands near his ears. Nah, startled would be unfair. He literally jumped.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Morningstar!?” He tried to hit him behind bars but Lucifer was fast.

“Oops.” He chuckled and went back to his bed. It was worth it.

“Oh, do you wanna lose the privilege of your sissy hobbies?! I can make that happen!” He growled.

“Sure, sure.” He played with his duck, not caring about the screaming man.

“You’ll see, bitch.” He walked away to the other prisoners. “Back in your place huh, *Alastor’s surname*? I told them specifically to keep your cell empty!” He scoffed at the prisoner at the next cell, who hadn’t been around for a while because he escaped. Hunter said that it was Kadmon who caught and brought him back. Lucifer didn’t like Alastor, heck that prick thought he was being ‘creepy’ with his boring attitude. But at least he knew where he stood. Officer piglet didn’t.

“How nice of you, kind officer.” He could literally hear the smile on his voice. “I hope you had a wonderful week.”

“I did. Unlike you, pussy!”

— Awhile later —

Adam was on night patrol with Holly. He wished it was Lute, but that gal was nice too he guessed. She might be a gay, but she was still cool. He waited outside of a coffee shop as she got them some.

He was mumbling a song to himself when he heard a human voice coming from the woods. He was saying “You don’t own me.. You don’t own me…” repeatedly. He took his gun out just to be safe, he knew what kind of creeps there were at night. He walked off slowly there. There was an old man looking at him, and he was walking near him.

“Sir? Are you-“

“YOU DON’T OWN ME!” He screamed and made a dash to Adam, causing the officer to back down and pointing the gun at him.

And thats when he heard that. Someone shooting behind. Shooting the old man in the head right where he pointed his gun. He fell down, face all bloody.

Oh no.

“Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit!” Panic rose in Adam as he understood the crazy guy was dead.

“WHO’S THERE!” He shoot his gun at the woods. He heard someone else though.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” A guy, much saner than the old man came from behind. “YOU FUCKING KILLED HIM YOU CUNT! WHAT DID HE EVEN DO TO YOU!?” He pushed him away from the old man and looked at him. Adam couldn’t do anything as he saw the cries of the man.

Oh shit.

“Look, it was-!“

“YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!”

He got up angrily, ready to beat the shit out of the police but then stopped when he saw the person had a gun. Instead, he ran to their police car in order to find another officer.

“WAIT!” He tried to track him down as he ran there. But immediately stopped when-

He heard a high pitched scream coming near him. It came from a woman who was just out of the coffee shop. She looked scared. “Officer, help!”

“No, look, it wasn’t-“

“Sir..?” Holly came rushing, she must’ve heard the woman, and froze when she saw Adam.

“Holly, you don’t-“ He tried to came closer to them but the guy yelled again.

“HE KILLED HIM!”

“I DIDN’T! Holly you have to-“ He shutted his mouth in shock as she pointed her gun at him, hands shaking.

“Don’t come any closer!” She stated. “Place your weapons infront of you and raise your hands where I can see them or else!”

“Come on-“ What the fuck?!

“If you don’t, I’ll-“

“Fine.” He did what she told. “Hey, what are you-“ He panicked even more when she reached him with handcuffs.

(Is this how this works? I have no fucking idea)

— After —

Adam was thrown to a court the following days. He came up with a lawyer, but there were evidence. The guy who saw him -he learned that it was his son- testified that it was him, and the woman did the same. And before you know it, he was charged for murder and sent to prison in an orange jumpsuit. He didn’t understood what happened clearly until he was placed in the middle of the general population of prison.

“Wait! I didn’t do that shit! It was a fucking mistake!”

“It surely was, wasn’t it, officer?” He heard voices behind him and felt all the color on his face drain away. He was fucked. He turned around only to be met with a huge group of inmates. They were almost like predators, and in this case he was the prey.

“What are you dirtbags looking at?!” He yelled, trying to keep his threatening posture. Failing miserably.

“Ohoh, a punching bag I’m looking at.” One of them said, mimicking the ex officer’s ex attitude. The others took this as a starting point and threw him to the ground.

Lucifer watched the prisoners beating the shit out of former officer. His cries and pleas were harmonic. It’d be easy to let the prisoners end him to be honest, but he knew a better way to humiliate him. Physical beating was something, but psychological beating… Its harm could never be measured. He decided what to do and jumped up his seat.

“ENOUGH!” He shouted to his fellow inmates. Everyone backed away with disgusted looks on their faces, still not wanting to let go of that fucker.

Adam heard calm steps coming near him and holding his chin. He muttered something and looked up to the other man.

Morningstar. It was fucking over.

Lucifer eyed the pathetic guy. He was either gonna pass out or puke. His face was ruined. Aren’t mister handsome anymore, he thought, he still remembered how arrogant this prick was before. He chuckled, karma had a cruel but pretty good sense of humor.

“Do you hear me?” He asked.

“Y-yes.”

“Then listen carefully.” He whispered sharply. “Because I will only speak once.” He grinned to the scared man.

“I am offering you a deal. You will be protected from physical harm, no one here dares to cross me. In return you’d give me your full obedience. You’ll be mine. You will always do what I say. Deal?”

“I-“

“Okay, then I’m leaving y-“

“Deal.” He quickly said, hating the sound leaving his lips. He didn’t wanna do this, all of his cells hated this. But this was his only chance. He could still hear the wolves. Cops weren’t welcome inside bars.

“Excellent.” He cupped his cheek.“Now get up. You need treatment. Rosie will do.” He held his hand out. Adam barely stood up but that was it. He passed out to Lucifer’s arms. He groaned, this guy was fucking heavy. He just let him slip and left him on the floor. He could call the nurse later.

“This mean we could end him now?” One of the prisoners asked with hope.

“No. Everyone, listen!” He called out to the crowd at the last part. “You will not be hurting him from that moment. I agree,” He raised his hands as he heard objections. “He deserves it. But I am just saying you can’t physically hurt him.”

“And why would we feel the need to not do that?” One particular inmate spoke. One inmate with a personal hatred against the former guard.

“Think about it, Alastor.” He came closer to the smiling, taller man, still keeping an eye out for his newest toy. “Humiliating him like he did to most of us is much better than simply ending that bitch, right? You must know the damage the words can do much better than everyone.” He looked up.

“You might be right. But it is no guarantee that he won’t try to hurt us.”

“Oh if he does, you are more than free to fuck him up right there. But until that happens, nobody will lay a finger on him. Understood?”

The crowd muttered yeses and okays, although not all of them looked convinced. Alastor just walked away simply. Whatever, he made the announcement after all.

“Hunter, can you help me with getting the big baby to the nurse?”

End of the first chapter! This took a lot more time than I guessed, but it was worth it!

Have a good day/night!

[clavissionary-position]

Meanwhile on the Achroite-Obsidian border...

Gilbert: (painting the snow red with All These Corrupt Nobles)

Matias: (watching from atop a wall on his side) You...!

Matias:

Gilbert: (calls up) You look like you have something to say! Unfortunately, I'm still within 5 cm of the Obsidian side.

Matias: (holds up a ruler and squints) 6 cm! You lied to make yourself look worse, you criminal!

Gilbert: Hehe, did I? Well, it's all just numbers in the end. I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, Matias, but we're not so different, you and I.

Matias: (panicked-thinking) Please don't say that please don't say that please don't say that please don't say that please don't say that. I am not a monster, I am Matias.

Matias: I have no use for clichés. Only justice. What you are doing is a gross abuse of authority. All people deserve to be tried fairly in the court of law.

Gilbert: Even if the Obsidian Royal Family is the law?

Gilbert: And I've seen what you do in your so-called courts. Handing down the sorts of extreme sentences that you do is its own abuse of power, right?

Gilbert: You're giving those people false hope they might get off, either free or with a lighter sentence, but it's a foregone conclusion, isn't it? You're just toying with them. Whereas I do my sentencing up-front with little fuss.

Gilbert: In fact, what I'm doing here is simply saving the people their tax dollars by expediting the process.

Roderic: (pauses killing spree) Exactly! He's an ally to the taxpayers!

Matias: Can we not have this philosophical debate while you're mid-stab?

Gilbert: Oh no, Roderic is the one doing all the stabbing?

Roderic: I am! I do all the stabbing! Most of the time! I'm the actual villain!

Gilbert: No one is a greater villain than me. If such a person exists, they're not long for the world I seek to forge.

Gilbert: Also, Matias, if you're flinging around wild accusations like that in your day-to-day work, then I think that makes you far worse than me.

Matias: That's what all the preparation before a trial is for! We have never mistakenly...

Matias: (panicked-thinking) OH GOD BUT WHAT IF

Matias: Stop what you're doing, Gilbert.

Gilbert: Giving you an existential crisis or excising these rotten limbs from the body of my country?

Matias: Both, if that is at all possible.

Gilbert: You're free to try and invade my country if you want jurisdiction over these... (kicks a noble) ...things.

Matias: (grits teeth) I'd rather not have to rely on force.

Gilbert: Are you scared of my army?

Matias: I fear no such thing.

Gilbert: Even if we were to invade tomorrow?

Matias: You won't. There's a blizzard tomorrow. And our snowshoes are better.

Matias: The second you step foot into Achroite, I'll have you arrested for improper footwear.

Gilbert: That's too bad. It kind of sucks that you're telling me about that in advance, though. You could have had me beheaded for improper footwear.

Matias:

Gilbert: Hehe, but I like that about you, Matias. For all your flaws, you at least try to play fair. There might be a place for you in my new world yet.

Matias: Why do I feel like I'm caught in the middle of some unseen war between gods.

Matias: (checks his watch) Oh! It's time for my tea-party delusion! What to wear, what to wear...

[dekusleftsock]

Y’all reading the newest chapter scans is like whiplash

I forgot how unhinged he can be, and tbh how much more unhinged he’s currently being.

Anyway Izuku is my favorite character so, sorry y’all, I know everyone is excited about Katsuki

However. Everyone else can talk about Katsuki. I live on my scraps.

Love how Shigaraki tries to get a dig at Izuku about Katsuki like how Monoma did when he unlocked blackwhip, so his immediate reaction is diverge diverge diverge.

Talk about repressed but this is a whole new level.

And his eye bags, they just make him look so exhausted.

I said this before but the chapter after Katsuki woke up Izuku looked relieved to me yes, but also… very scared. Very afraid of Katsuki’s well being.

Especially since, if we compare what Katsuki is doing now (using the pain as an extension of his quirk), you could EASILY COMPARE to when Izuku unlocked danger sense with shigaraki. How concerned and afraid Katsuki was in those chapters.

The thing is though, Katsuki was honest. He was honest that Izuku shouldn’t be doing this on his own, he’s being honest now—“I’m Kacchan of the Bakugou’s!”

He knows how he’s feeling and he’s letting himself feel it.

Somehow, Izuku still isn’t.

Hell, when afo ignores Katsuki, what he does is laugh about how much pain he’s in, but that it’s the key.

Let’s compare how Katsuki is using pain to how Izuku is using pain with danger sense. Let us not forget, danger sense is a physically taxing quirk, much like the rest of ofa. It causes a migraine when in any immediate danger.

Idk about y’all, but I get migraines so bad sometimes I vomit from the buildup of pressure. I can’t focus on anything. I just cant really imagine Izuku using danger sense that well in a fight… yet he does.

And, what exactly is danger sense for? To get out of danger? Maybe to avoid the danger? Ofa is an extension of Izuku’s inner turmoil, every single quirk exhibits this, and it would make so. Much. Sense. For danger sense to mimic his avoidance of emotions and vulnerability.

Katsuki’s quirk as it is now uses pain in a very odd way to me—he doesn’t try to use it to exit himself from the danger or pain, but actively searches for it. The pain is the key.

Danger sense is also a relatively self serving quirk, only really useable for himself. And for him to reference danger sense of all his quirks rn, it would make sense since…

Izuku has been self serving and avoidant since before even this fight. Hell, before even the war arc. Maybe this has gone on his entire life.

I want to hit him so bad for this y’all don’t GET IT.

And, just so we all know, he did this in 348 too. When confronted with emotional conversations, his first thought will always be “but how’s the fastest way I can win this fight?”

MY PROOF YALL IM SO DONE WITH THIS DUDE

“You see I have never once thought about hurting the people I care about like that!” Okay maybe be less boring

HM I WONDER WHY

THATS SO CRAZY DEKU

YOU TELL ME

WHY IS THE GIRL WHO YOU REJECTED AND THEN SAID THAT HER WAY OF LOVING IS SOMETHING YOU COULD NEVER DO TO OTHER PEOPLE (ALSO IMPLYING JUDGEMENT IN THIS STATEMENT), SAD RIGHT NOW?

LETS USE SOME COMMON SENSE PLEASE

I’m hyped for when Izuku is forced to be honest y’all don’t understand. It’s gonna be an angst fest and it’s gonna be romantic and I literally can’t see it not heading down the “explicitly canonical” path.

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

Concept Cards??? + Vignette Ideas

We really need twst hobby cards to come out eventually (Read As: I want a card where Cater gets to skateboard lmao) But like...

Riddle - Tending the Garden: His vignette is about trying out new hobbies, but needing to start slow, so rather than just pruning the rosebushes he tries to grow his own plants for tea because it seems manageable/maybe growing an herb garden on his windowsill bc he again, needs to start small and manageable so his schedule isn't thrown off and he doesn't feel like he's sacrificing academics for leisure

Trey - Old Habits: His vignette is basically him and Deuce talking until Deuce brings up he has a toothache. We basically get to see Trey take a deep dive into dentistry and the extent of his knowledge because he manages to identify the issue and solve it, and it's revealed that when he's bored of doing school work and too tired to bake he just loves to study dentistry best he can without schooling on the matter.

Cater - ???: His vignette is him leaving a clone at Heartslaybul so he can escape for a bit and clear his mind while on his skateboard because things were getting too tense for him and he's got nobody he trusts to confide in. We get to see him relax and cheer up while he's out. Alternatively, his vignette could be more about running out of paint because he's trying to customize his skateboard.

Deuce - They're Called What?: In which Deuce's friends find out about gremlin bells and gift them to him. (Gremlin bells are something motorcyclists use IRL, the legend is that someone used bells to scare away malicious spirits on the road, so when someone buys them bells they but them on the motorcycle as basically a reminder to be safe, but obviously in this case it would be for his blastcycle)

Ace - Just a Little Glitter: Ace gets a kick out of pulling pranks on people anonymously around the dorm because his brother told him about a prank he pulled in his time there and sent him a few small vials of glitter to help spice it up. Ace ends up mixing glitter in with someone's conditioner, or puts some between couch cushions so when someone sits down it makes the glitter fly up. There is a possibility for Riddle clocking him as the person who's done it, (likely with evidence from Cater), and instead of getting him in outright trouble, he tells him that the couch needs to be cleaned by hand, each piece of glitter meticulously picked up to get thrown out.

Leona - Once The Greatest: His vignette is about how he used to spar and train with his older brother and the general of the royal army, and how at one point he was able to disarm anyone in less than a minute, despite having been so young and not using magic to help him. Once he fell into depression he never really got back into it. (Maybe he sees Silver and Sebek sparring and calls out an error they've made?? IDK) Alternatively Prince's Gambit: totally not homoerotic at all ongoing chess game he has with Malleus slkdfhlksdjhflkjsdf

Ruggie - Only if You Get Caught: In which Lilia catches Ruggie stealing snacks from the teacher's lounge. We find out that he's managed to win over the paintings in the hall to not snitch him out to the teachers in exchange for him coming to read to them every once in a while because they are. Incredibly bored, and it lowkey reminds him of reading to his siblings at home. Lilia points out that he hasn't bought his silence yet and Ruggie reluctantly hands over a snack tax.

Jack - I Can't Let it Go: Jack gets devastated when his cactus starts showing signs of dying because he's done everything he can think of to take care of it. He takes it to Jade reluctantly because he knows Jade is botanically inclined and is horrified when Jade cuts it. Jade was actually propagating it, but keeps that to himself. He then explains to Jack that the reason it's rotting is because it's getting too much water and it's in too small of a pot. He gives him instructions on how to fix it and keeps the baby propagated cactus for himself lmao

Azul - GET OUT OF MY CLOSET: In which Floyd finds out Azul enjoys wearing dresses and owns plenty of high quality ones and never wears them in public. It's not until the eel is out of the room that Azul starts fussing over the state his dresses are in and goes to the vanity to start applying make up. He wants to do drag but doesn't have the confidence to do it in public yet.

Alternatively, same title but it's cosplays he and Idia have made but he's too shy to put on.

Jade - You Can't Hide: We Jade goes about collecting the first years information for Azul, we know that he collects info on: Home countries, Hobbies, Tastes, Least favourite foods, Worst Subjects and a catalogue of the students' Magicam accounts, including private or secret accounts. This vignette would be about a random first year who appears to have no Magicam account and is generally difficult to read. I feel like we would get to the point where Jade goes to the nurses office just to look through files for information he can relay to Azul. (I may be thinking about one of my OCs lmaooo)

Floyd - You Can't Run: We learn more about Floyd's shoe collection and the story behind a certain pair. We find out that at walking boot camp some shithead made fun of Jade. Since they were so confident in their ability to walk, Floyd took their shoes and essentially kidnapped them to leave them on a bed of pine needles so they would have to walk back to camp barefoot, letting them know they got off easy for coming after his brother.

Kalim - My Mom Taught Me!: Kalim invites the prefect to his dorm so he can give them henna on their hands, after having dealt with Jamil's OB. He gets to talk about how it was one of the things he remembers from early on in his life, and it was relatively easy to do. He does his siblings henna too. He ends up explaining how henna on the hands is meant to bring the prefect good luck and keep them safe. We find out after that everyone in his dorm got henna as well because he can't cast protective magic for that many people, so he can at least try with symbolism

Jamil - No Guarantees: Floyd approaches Jamil to ask him if he can teach him to dance a genre Jamil has NO experience with, but his insistence and Jamil's own interest get the best of him and he promises he'll try to find a way to learn it so he can teach Floyd. He ends up learning the basics + a little more essentially overnight and has a loose idea of how to teach Floyd, only for Floyd to tell him he doesn't want to learn anymore.

Vil - Wrong Notebook: Vil doesn't realize until he's gotten to class that he grabbed the wrong notebook off his desk before he left that morning. Rook inquires if he grabbed his design sketchbook instead, knowing full well he did, but just wants a chance to look at the most recent designs. Vil doesn't really care, he's mostly mad at himself for grabbing that instead of history notebook. Rook ends up sliding Vil the notebook he was missing, saying that he noticed that Vil's bag looked a few grams off weight or some shit and he went back to grab it.

Rook - It's Nothing Sinister: A two for one, Malleus can feel someone watching him from far away, and ends up confronting Rook. Rook explains while he does have a tendency to watch those he finds beautiful, this is different; he needed to keep looking at Malleus in order to accurately describe his beauty in the form of poetry. It's only at that point that Malleus sees the simple notebook Rook has, and asks to see it. Rook hands it over proudly, and Malleus can see that there are actually...multiple poems about him, about Leona, about the Leech twins, etc. etc. and finds it entertaining, asking Rook if he may make a duplicate so he can show Lilia.

Epel - Harder Than It Looks: We get to see Epel apple carving again. Ruggie and Jack approach him, and Ruggie asks him if he actually manages to turn a profit on it. Epel explains that back home, basic preservation magic is used, so tourists tend to find them cool and they can charge more for it. Ruggie asks if he can teach him, and Epel warns him that it's harder than it looks, handing him an apple. Ruggie just thanks him and says something's come up, pretending to look at his phone and walks away with a free apple, (Epel confused bc Ruggie could have just Asked for a snack), but Jack expresses interest as well. Jack tries to do it, (partially because he feels bad Ruggie just walked away), but trying to hold the apple securely enough to cut into it without the knife slipping makes him squish the apple too much, the sides kinda mushy and bruised. He and Jack get to have a laugh about it.

Idia - DON'T COME IN: In which Ortho knocks at the door and Idia panics because he is 110% in magic girl cosplay lmao Ortho ends up coming in and gets a giggle out of it because Idia is basically cosplaying young Epel's meemaw (and they both know he is). The worst part is the fact Muscle Red ends up hearing about it over the mic.

Ortho - I Don't Really Know...: Ortho realizes that he doesn't really have any of his own hobbies, all of them have been influenced by Idia, and film club is fun, but it's not a hobby. The first years each present him with different ideas for a hobby he can pick up. He has a blast, but ultimately still feels conflicted about enjoying a hobby his brother won't partake in. The first years start to argue over which hobby Ortho should join them in when Ortho notices Trey through the Heartslaybul windows, (the first years are outside), and the first years end up seeing him enjoying himself with Trey, who not only mitigated Ortho's worries but managed to take on a Different 'big brother' role. Also baking is all ratios and proportions and chemistry, and Ortho finds those fun and easy, and gets invested quickly.

Malleus - I've Run Out Of Ink: Malleus does calligraphy when he's journaling and you cannot change my mind on either of those fronts. The vignette is him just going to Sam's shop, and someone ends up snapping a photo of him at the counter, finding it funny that The Malleus Draconia looks like he's going grocery shopping. Lilia ends up seeing the post and asking Malleus why he didn't just ask him for more ink, and Malleus admits he wanted to potentially run into the Child of Man just so he could pay for their groceries because of a modern romance story he read recently.

Lilia - It's Called Power Clashing: Vil finds Lilia's alternate Magicam and sees that grandpa is actually doing pretty well as a fashion influencer, with power clashing as his signature style. (AKA wearing patterns on patterns that are unconventional). Vil has Mixed Feelings on the style, but with another photoshoot coming up where he knows Neige will be his rival, he needs something to really set him apart and reluctantly asks Lilia if he would be willing to help him design a power clash outfit. And it's Vil so of course he kills it in the outfit Lilia suggests.

Silver - One Day They'll Work: Cater sees Silver at Sam's shop - Silver's buying energy drinks and Cater is getting cold brew kdfjhlskdjfhkljsdf but once they get to the counter, Silver asks Sam if he can have a box from behind him. Cater finds out that Silver collects prisms. He collects them so in the rare event there's sun in Diasomnia, his room is covered in rainbows and he gets to wake up in it, making him happy. Cater asks if it's ever been sunny in Diasomnia, and Silver admits it hasn't since he's been there, but he has faith that there will be sun there one day because he dreamt about it.

Sebek - IT'S NOT CHILDISH: Silver stops by Sebek's room before bed at some point, only to find him putting Malleus stickers into a notebook. Before he can even say anything, Sebek is defending himself, flustered and upset because he didn't say Silver could come in, (Silver is used to doing the courtesy knock and then walking in, especially because Sebek tends to just Bust into Silver's room), and goes off on saying that any media with Malleus cannot be considered childish, even if that media happens to be stickers. Silver swears not to tell anyone, but still finds Sebek's defensiveness amusing

THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SHORT POST (like less than 100 words) SLDKJFHLSJDFHLKSDJF love y'all slkfhldsjhflkjsdf

[takeachillpillshawty]

Very specific TWST head cannons

Jack was accidentally given alcohol by a third year at a party because they thought he was also a third year.

Ruggie would make bets with students if they can guess Jack's age correctly.

Malleus would stay back at after the final class of the day just to sing, he likes the sound of the empty class room. He stopped doing that because a rumor about a "haunted class" was spreading.

Sebek yelled so hard one time, he couldn't talk the next day due to the pain.

Vil watches those self care videos, as in the earwax removal, black head removal, technically any of those gross removal videos. It's a guilty pleasure of his.

Cater is a hot cheeto girl, he and Idia would make ramen and put hot cheetos in it.

Silver is a heavy sleeper...like heavy sleeper. One time a fire broke out in Diasomnia and everyone was screaming. Only after the fire was out did he wake up.

Malleus used to talk to stuff animals as a kid.

Sebek monologues to himself, and everyone can hear him.

Sebek when he was a kid chased another child with a broken ruler for saying Malleus' name in vain.

Riddle and Jamil have this weird friendship, basically it's just them trying to relax but remembering there are idiots who are in the dorms and can't rest until they get things done.

Each dorm has their own WiFi router, Idia usually hacks into the others in case Ignihyde's one is down or he just want to see people's search history.... Let's just say he's not comfortable around certain classmates.

Idia permanently puts Ortho on child lock so people won't ask him to look up not so friendly things on the internet.

Ortho can get sick from viruses or corrupted data he accidentally downloaded.

Jade and Rook have a passive aggressive rivalry. Like imagine them in the botanical garden having lunch and Jade handed him a poison mushroom infused tea and Rook just 'accidentally' pours it in a plant watching it wither. While looking Jade dead in the eyes, both have smiles on there faces, as they passive aggressively try to kill each other.

Cater x Jade or Rook would be so fucking funny. Like imagine dating the most dangerous students in the school but hey at least the dick is crazy.

Trey has a collection of his baby teeth and his siblings baby teeth on his night stand. No-one brings it up...ever.

another reason why Cater doesn't eat sweets is because he'll get a tooth ache just eating a smore.

A student once asked Crewel if it was possible to make 'crack' in potionology..... Crewel wasn't getting paid enough for this.

Crowley has committed tax evasion.

Azul Is thicc. I said what I said, and don't boo me. I'm right.

Ruggie is banned from Monstro Lounge due to finding loop holes in Azul's contracts and getting free stuff.

Malleus hates cake with too much frosting, It defeats the purpose of the cake.

Malleus would use fae circles to teleport prefect to him.

Floyd likes to just bite things, especially his phone case.

Rook takes the best photos.

Sometimes people forget that Vil is an actor and model, so when seeing him in a movie, commercial or magazine they just get jump scared and remembered .

" oh yeah....Housewarden Vil is a celebrity.."

I think prefect is desensitized to meeting famous or high status people that they're not a big deal to them. Imagine Prefect going to a cafe and THE KALIM AL ASIM Is paying for their drink, everyone is shocked that someone who's richer than royalty is paying for you and all you say is " Oh thanks Kalim. "

I feel like up to book 6 every dorm leader helped out in repairing Ramshackle adding there own piece of their dorms in there. A gaming room from Idia, A luxurious bathroom with skin care supplies and designer clothes from Vil, pantry and groceries from Heartslaybul and Scarabia and a cook book from Trey and Jamil respectively. An indoor and outdoor pool from Savannah claw, wallpaper and decor from Azul, and finally furniture and jewelry from Malleus.

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

Your countries are being invaded and your too blinded by accusations of "Bigotry" and "Racism" to actually do anything about it. What am I talking about?

-

Let me explain something to the left and any moderate that might have an issue with my framing. These are not people seeking asylum because of persecution. These are economic migrants trying to extract from our countries while their first act in flooding here is economic instability and eventual collapse. It has nothing to do with cultural dislike, or racism of any kind.

Fact is most people in most places hate how their governments are run. The US Gov I can actually weigh in on, because we have sent billions in tax dollars to Ukraine and foreign interests. We have spent millions if not billions on homelessness yet still have a huge homeless issue in places that claim to care about it more than anywhere else.

But what's the issue. 80%-90% of the people coming are military age men. In some cases that percentage is north of 98%. Meaning there are almost never any women or children coming here. And at least in the US they are coming here with their fist act as breaking US law. I live in Texas. This state is heavily affected by illegal immigration. Hard part is, most people don't tend to see the effects until it's too late. The more people that flood your country, the worse the economy in your country will be. Slow trickle can be handled. What we are experiencing can't be. Why?

So not to be the "THER TAKN OUR JUBS", but in reality they are. They will work for lower wages. They don't care if they get healthcare. And the employer does not have to care about the red tape hiring them. They get the profit with almost none of the other complexities that come from hiring a legal citizen. What's more, we barely have enough jobs for the people that live here and yet we flood millions in through the southern border every single year. Functionally, this is an issue. We might be a melting pot, but what happens when our cultures are deleted outright because the flood gets too big?

And this is a real risk. Cultural decimation. These people don't care about their own countries. What makes you think they care about yours? They will extract. Destroy. And they will move on. They don't realize they are doing it have the time but consider the fact that the UN has not helped in this at all. Consider the fact that the WEF has not at all helped in this. The US can hold the population of the world sure, but fact of the matter is that should not be our goal. There are too many cultures, and there are too many offset forms of belief.

We can barely keep our own country working properly and inflation is the worst it's been in almost ever. We can't take care of our own and yet the bleeding heart class in the US just expects us to take in everyone from everywhere at all times. Economically we can't handle this. Socially and culturally we can't handle this. People need to go to countries through the proper sources. They need to do it legally. But what's more, these countries are losing their working age and military age men. IN THE THOUSANDS and MILLIONS. What is the result to the country these people are leaving? What of the women and children left behind?

No one wants to have this conversation because they are scared of being called a xenophobe or a racist. But having love for your country and wanting it to continue to function, and not have your culture crushed under the weight of actual invaders, isn't either of those things. And before you go, "Oh well how dare you call them invaders ~" here is the definition for you.

Look at the second listing. I understand the idea behind wanting others to be happy. I understand the idea behind wanting people from other places to not suffer. But these people are leaving their countries, rather than fighting for them. They have abandoned their mothers, daughters, wives, sisters, aunts, and grandmothers in most cases.

Most of you need to face the reality that the real world is not a fair place. But if you want your country to thrive and survive there needs to be a process in which it functions. These people are ignoring that entire process. If Italy can't deport the people that just arrived on that ship, outnumbering the entire population of the island they just landed on, there will be consequences. And they will not be good. The language will start to shift. The religions in the area will change. The entire culture will change. Then at some point, they will decide, "This is our land now, and it's always been ours". It's objectively conquest by sheer numbers. And while they might not individually have any ill intent. That won't matter in the long term.

This isn't a conspiracy. It's not bigotry. Open a history book and read. I'm pro immigration. 100% I'm for it. But how long are the lines for the people coming here legally? How many people have been denied citizenship over BS reasons? And not only are we allowing illegals in at a more than alarming rate (specifically in the US), but we are spending tax dollars on giving them roofs over their heads, and handouts, and in some places they are even getting monthly allowances.

Explain to me how we are doing this for people with no respect for the country, or it's laws, and yet you can't solve homelessness? You can't make a VA that actually functions properly? You can't get out out of inflation? So to the people cheering on illegal immigration, you are voting for your own demise. And every penny spent on them, is not one spent on a legal immigrant. Every penny spent on them is not spend helping the homeless. Every penny spent on them is not spent on healthcare.

This might be a controversial post and some people may even block, mute or unfollow me for it and that's fine. But history speaks for itself. And every country that has dealt with this for too long has collapsed over time. Pretty much every single time.

You should be concerned. Before you end up as the one who's displaced, and is fleeing.