#I like to think that they also quite enjoy ice skating

[askblueandviolet]

Hey Mayor, do you have any hobbies ?

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[lyinginmeadow]

Breakaway pt I. | hockey!Azriel × reader

Summary: You're not a fan of a kiss cam. And neither is your boyfriend.

Word count: 1,8k

Warnings: swearing, miserable knowledge of hockey (sorry yall), Rhys being a protective asshole over his sister

A/n: Anyone a hockey fan? No, just me? Okay. Another thing is, that I described university as I know it in my country haha. I hope no one will be confused

Also yes, I did take inspiration from tiktok. I just loved that scene <3

>> Pt 2

Leaves started to fall which meant your favorite season was starting. You loved anything and everything that came with autumn. The pumpkin spice, moody weather, sweaters, and books. With autumn knocking on your door, the new semester has begun. You didn't mind studying, you actually enjoyed it to a certain degree, but the stress is what always got to you during exams. You were just starting your second year of university, so you knew what to expect. To many that was all. Just endless studying and partying to get their minds off things. You? Not really. Ever since you could remember, fall meant the hockey season started. Were you a hockey player? No, not at all. Ice skating was your passion, just not hockey. That didn't matter, because your brother was the golden child. Rhysand played because your father used to. You would never say it out loud, mainly because it would inflate his ego even more, but Rhysand was a star player. He was so much better than your father and you knew that if he wanted to, he would make it far. 

 Rhys never acted towards you with any malice other than just a bit of sibling rivalry. He was actually quite protective of you, given the fact you were his little sister. But whatever you did was never good enough for your father. You might study medicine, but Rhys was finishing law. You might figure skate but you were no hockey player. And most of all, you were a woman. And your father despised you for it. You were expected to make it to every game, but no one ever wanted to attend your competitions.  You enjoyed watching the games, especially when Rhys met his best friends and teammates at university. The games became so much more interesting when Azriel entered the ice. Rhys might be the captain and the center, but Azriel was a force to be reckoned with, the fastest player in the rink. You became friends with both Cassian and Azriel quickly since you often visited their house to get away from your parents. Rhysand of course was glad but you knew you were off-limits to his friends. Not only was it obvious in how he glared at both of them whenever they made a comment he didn’t appreciate. But the first time you met, Cass basically undressed you with his eyes. From what you heard he reminded them often to not mess with his sister.

It did not stop you from developing feelings for him the moment you laid eyes on him. For a while, it did seem he viewed you only as his best friend's little sister. Which you had a hard time accepting. Your relationship changed when you sneaked into a party they had thrown in celebration of a victory last year. You were a first-year, and your first semester at university had been hectic, but living close to your brother and away from your parents was a long-awaited blessing. Having a taste of freedom made you bold. Azriel couldn't take his eyes off of you, you had been like a magnet. He hadn't been the only one as you attracted the attention of another freshman. Azriel might not have acted on his attraction towards you before but seeing you with another man changed that. One thing led to another and you were sneaking out together whenever you found time.

It had been a year and your brother still had no clue. And you intended to keep it that way. You loved your boyfriend, you didn't want to worry about his teeth off the ice as well. Cassian on the other hand suspected, thankfully as you introduced him to your friend, Nesta, he became preoccupied and dropped the matter. 

''So who do you think will win? And be honest, they're not here, you can't hurt their fragile egos.'' Nesta disturbed your train of thought. You laughed shaking your head. You loved hanging out with her because of how direct she was, always saying exactly what was on her mind. You met Nesta when your university did a charity ballet on the ice of Nutcracker. You got the role of Clara and she was your ballet counterpart. You did not expect to establish a friendship with her, but she was exactly who you needed in your life. You knew she would call you out on your bullshit anytime and you liked her for it. She also happened to be the first person you told about Azriel. She was not surprised, saying that you weren't being as secretive as you thought you had been.

''You know I am still biased since I really want our team to win. The Cavaliers are good and they play dirty. But Cass will probably try to kill Eris on the ice. Given the history and all.'' You gave her a pointed look. Shifting your gaze to the rink, you tried to find number 38.

''They’ve got no chance against VU.'' Said a guy next to you. You hated when someone butted their way into a conversation. But given the fact, that you would be spending about two hours in close proximity, you had decided for a polite smile. ''I guess so.''

''So how come you've got such good seats? Know someone on the team?'' He chimed in again.

''You could say that. My brother is the captain.'' You answered keeping your eyes on Azriel as he warmed up.

''Rhysand is your brother?''

''Unfortunately.'' You nodded, and his eyes grew in size. ''That's so lucky! I wish I was a hockey player or just knew them. You see, I got these seats because I'll be writing an article about the game.'' You smiled politely again shifting your gaze to the rink when the puck was just about to hit the ice.

As the game progressed, the crowd became electric. All the fans were shouting and your ears began ringing. Velaris Bats were in the lead, but only by one goal and everyone was nervous. To make the game even more enjoyable, there were games for the fans as well. Students competed against one another to win points for their university and win the competition of the tribunes.

The competitions were fun and good entertainment during breaks. But while the game continued the camera was turned on. You laughed at a random do a meme moment, but quickly turned your head back to the ice. You didn't want to miss a second of Azriel's game. Fully focused, you didn't realize that the camera switched to a kiss cam. A guy sitting next to you turned his head to face you and pointed to the TV earning your attention. ''I mean when in Rome, right?'' He laughed as he tried to close the distance. ''Yeah, no, thank you.'' You laughed nervously shifting in your seat.

''Oh come on, it's just a kiss.'' He pressured, and you gave a panicked look towards the ice. You heard Nesta taking a sharp inhale to give the guy a piece of her mind. You were interrupted by shouts of the fans and loud banging on the glass. 

''Back the fuck off.'' You couldn't hear Az properly, but the message was quite clear, making the guy shift his gaze between the two of you uncomfortably. Az got two minutes for stalling the game which made the crowd boo and your brother yell obscenities as he often did when one of his teammates was sent to a bench. Thankfully during the power play the Cavaliers didn't get a goal in, but it was close. It only enraged Rhysand more which was abundantly clear when he almost broke his stick as the second period came to an end.

Azriel was sending daggers to the guy sitting next to you who looked like he wanted nothing more than to leave. He relaxed when the players left for their locker rooms. You just hoped Rhys didn't look much into Azriel's possessive behavior.

''What the fuck was that?'' Roared Rhys as he entered the locker room.

''I don't know what you're talking about.'' Azriel continued to take off his gear.

''Do not play with me! You could have cost us the game.''

''I was thinking I did you a favor. He had no right to touch her like that.'' He finally faced Rhysand.

''It was a fucking kiss cam.''

''She didn't want to be kissed. And he didn't back off.''

''So what? You made it your mission to help her while you were supposed to pay attention to the puck?'' Spit Rhys. Everyone in the locker room was silent watching the two stubborn players go head to head.

''Yes! And I would do it again.'' Azriel retorted.

''I could have you off the team for this.'' He hissed.

''Rhys-.'' Cassian signed. ''Be my guest.'' Azriel interrupted starring Rhysand down. He wouldn't back down. He couldn't. He knew you could have handled yourself back there. Hell, Nesta was there, too and she wouldn't let some guy do anything disrespectful. He just acted on an impulse. When he looked up and saw your panicked gaze, something shifted inside him. Rhys kept watching Azriel, staring right into his soul when suddenly his eyes grew larger as if recognizing what he should have seen from the very beginning.

''You've got to be kidding me.'' When Azriel didn't answer, Rhys continued, ''Tell me you don’t have a thing for my little sister.’’

''Azriel, I swear to everything that is holly, I will fucking punch you if you don't give me an answer.''

''We are together. Have been for almost a year.'' Azriel never saw anyone have an aneurysm. But if he could guess, Rhysand was a textbook example of how it looked like.

''I take it back, I will punch you anyway.'' And he might have if Cassian wasn't there to catch Rhys. ''Easy there killer. The game is still on. And you might not like it but Az is an asset.''

''I don't want to see you anywhere near her, understand? I know how you are with girls!'' Rhysand snarled.

''You know I can't do that.''

''Then you're off the team.''

''Fine.''

As they returned to the ice, the tension between Velaris Bats was palpable. Cassian was looking between his teammates probably trying to find a quick solution to the problem at hand. Azriel wasn't paying you any attention keeping his gaze on the ice only. You frowned slightly. When you looked at Rhys you found him staring back at you anger oozing out of his every move. 

He knew.

[theemporium]

thank you to the wyatt anon for choosing a prompt!🫶🏽weirdly enough, i struggled with it? but idk if that's just because this is my first wyatt piece or because uni has killed my brain so!! enjoy!!

prompt: standing on your tippy toes, frustrated you can't reach your lover's lips

.

“So, a little birdie tells me you have a boyfriend.” 

You lifted your head, tearing your eyes away from your laptop screen to give the boy on the bench a deadpan stare. 

“Did the same birdie remind you that you’re said boyfriend?” 

Wyatt beamed at your response, his cheeks already flushed from the drills they had been running through the practise session. He looked giddy, an expression that made your chest tight but confused you, nonetheless. He was usually focused when he was on the ice, even during training. 

“The birdie has spent all session gossiping about it,” Wyatt explained as he leaned against the barricade between the bench and the row of seats you were currently sitting on. “The boys are placing bets. First person to guess correctly gets a hundred bucks.” 

You raised your brows in amusement. “And how do they plan to confirm it?” 

“Pretty sure Tyler was just gonna straight up ask you,” Wyatt snorted. 

You hummed, your eyes narrowing in suspicion. “And did you place a bet?” 

Wyatt’s grin widened further. 

Your suspicion grew. “What did you do?” 

“I bet double if I could come over here and make you confess who your boyfriend is right now,” Wyatt announced happily, his eyes glimmering with a hint of mischief. “You’ve given yourself quite a rep, babe, you know? They think you’re impossible to break.”

You snorted in response. 

For someone with a job surrounding social media, you weren’t the most active person outside of it. Not on purpose, not really. Most of your time was spent on the Stars social media accounts that you didn’t really have time for your own, or really care about it enough. A little private Instagram account you posted on once in a blue moon was enough for you.

However, somewhere between being on an internship and being hired full time for the media team, you had grown closer to the boys on the team. It was hard not to when you spent so much of your time with them, travelling from city to city and wasting countless hours with them and a camera in hopes of a few decent shots you could salvage for a post. 

It also meant that because you were constantly poking them for answers to ridiculous questions, they felt the need to do the same to you. And it was through one of these ridiculous questions from Tyler that you accidentally let it slip that you had a boyfriend. And said boyfriend was someone you worked with.

And it had been the main topic of conversation all day, considering it took Tyler all of two minutes before blurting it to the rest of the locker room. 

“So who’s the winning choice?” 

“Eddie on the equipment team.” 

Your nose scrunched a little. “I’ve spoken to him, like, twice.” 

“Miro said he swore he saw you both have a moment,” Wyatt shrugged, pressing his lips together to hold back his laugh. 

You hummed, tilting your head as you watched the way he leaned closer over the barricade. “So, hot shot, how are you gonna get me to confess?” 

“It’s been over four hours since you last kissed me,” Wyatt told you, matter-of-factly. “I think we should change that?” 

You tried to bite back your smile. “Yeah?” 

“Gotta show them who’s your boyfriend after all, right?” Wyatt continued, trying to sound as casual and indifferent as he could. But you could see the way he gritted his teeth together.

“You jealous, Johnston?” You taunted as you placed your laptop to the side, standing up from your seat and walking towards the barricade where Wyatt was still standing. Despite normally being taller than you, the platform the seats were on made you taller than your boyfriend once as he leaned his head back to look up at you, even whilst he was still wearing skates.

“Pfft, no,” he scoffed but his blushing cheeks told another story. “I think you should kiss me so I can prove I’m not jealous.”

You shook your head fondly. “You’re ridiculously unsubtle.” 

“But still cute, right?” Wyatt retorted, trying to close the distance between you, only to huff in annoyance when he realised he wasn’t able to easily reach for your lips. “Get down here.” There was a small pause before he continued. “Please?”

You smiled, leaning down as you cupped his face in your hands and tilted his head back enough for you to kiss him without bumping your head against his visor. It was short and sweet but he still beamed in response when you pulled back.

“Still jealous?” 

“Nuh uh, I’m feeling pretty good,” Wyatt grinned. “Do you think the guys noticed or—” 

“SHE IS DATING JOHNNY?!” 

“THIS SHIT IS RIGGED, I WANT MY MONEY BACK!”

“SOMEONE TELL PAVS TO COME PICK UP HIS ROOKIE, HE’S A CHEAT!”

.

[mishietishie]

Nanami dating headcanons

Tw: fluffiest fluff I can come up with 😊, grammar mistakes, Nanami being a gentleman 🤧🤧, marriage and mentions of having children, and I think that's it

A/N: I'll maybe write Sukuna headcanons after this one!!

Okay, so first of all, this man would treat you like a PRINCESS!!! Like he's so sweet and patient with you, offering to drive or walk you home after dates or work.

I feel like he'd come to your office during lunchtime to have lunch with you! He'd also do this when you guys are still in the friendzone, saying he believed it was a good way to spend time together (he just wanted an excuse to see you 🫠)

He likes to call you "honey, sweetheart, darling, dearest, my love," and when he's feeling extra intimate he'll call you "my little ray of sunshine" because you always brighten up his days 🥺🥺

He'd take you on all kinds of dates! Such as restaurants, having a picnic, going ice skating (mostly in the winter), watching movies together (mostly at home because he doesn't like how dirty the movie theaters can get sometimes), stargazing, watching the sunset with you, taking a walk through a forest or park, etc!! He's willing to try a lot of things with you, even if it doesn't sound appealing to him the first time 😇!

He really likes baking for and with you! But he wouldn't mind if you decided to surprise him with a tasty treat 😋

He'd totally want to marry you!! I see him as a sort of traditional man, so he'd definitely ask your father/parents for your hand in marriage (your parents are OBSESSED with him, so ofc they'd say yes!!)

Once he has permission, he'll buy you the prettiest ring he can find and plan a trip to Malaysia with you instead of going on the Shibuya mission!🥹

He planned everything perfectly for the proposal! First, you two would enjoy the tanning on the beach, eat fine cuisine (of your choice obvi 😋😋) at a restaurant near y'alls hotel and during sunset he would ask you to take a stroll with him on the beach while watching the sunset!! And when the sun is just on the right angle, he'd give you a whole confession about his love and wishing to take the next step with you before he kneels on one knee and holds out the ring box to you uttering those 4 simple, yet heartwarming words

"Will you marry me?"

And then you guys have the most beautiful wedding you could ever hope for! It's not too big, but not too small, just the perfect number of people are invited for you to feel comfortable! (He really did think about everything!)

After the wedding, he'd dream about saving enough money to quit his job and retire early and have children with you! His heart always melts at the thought of having a little baby boy or girl in his arms :((((( he's so cute I wanna eat him

And when the day arrives and he hears you're pregnant, his eyes brighten up just like when you said yes to his marriage proposal, embracing you in a gentle yet loving hug. Promising to not only you but the baby in your belly too that he'll be the best father he can be

Thank you for reading to the end!

Smooches!! 😚😚

-Misha

Back to Nanami's Master List?

Back to the JJK Master List?

[ghostfacd]

jh86 — in your life, you’ll do things greater than, dating the boy on the hockey team.

au masterlist | hi guys! thanks for reading, make sure you look into my au masterlist for context on yn and jack’s relationship. this can totally be read without having context, but it’ll be much more enjoyable with, so make sure you check it out !! also livvy hughes is from my gabe perreault au which can be found here. this isn’t proofread yet but enjoy, muah & kisses

Jack Hughes.

Although he was known in your high school for being a handsome and incredibly athletic boy, you didn’t care much for him.

Besides, you had too many APs and Honor classes to be worrying about. Like right now; with your nose inside your AP Chemistry textbook, trying your best to not go absolutely insane. So far, it wasn’t working.

It had gotten to the point where you slammed your head against the textbook, making those around you turn to glare at the loud noise. You apologize profusely, deciding to go cry quietly in one of the study rooms the library had, not caring if you’d go home later with red eyes.

“Hey, you okay?”

A guy’s voice pulls you away from your textbook, your sniffles quickly filling the quiet room.

“This room is reserved, sorry.” You say, wiping away your tears with your eyes.

“Oh no, I know. I was just wondering if you were okay. I passed by and heard crying.”

Great. Not only did you look terrible at the moment, a cute guy just heard you crying. How embarrassing.

“It’s just chemistry,” you sigh, “I don’t know why I took it. It’s making me go insane.”

The boy laughs quietly, nodding to your words. “Yeah, I felt the same way about chemistry. Hated it.”

You noticed the equipment he had on his backpack, a long hockey stick and skates.

“You play hockey?”

“Yep. Jack Hughes, 86 on the ice.”

Your eyes widened, not expecting Jack Hughes to be right in front of you. Sure, you’ve heard about him endlessly, mostly coming from giggling girls in your grade, but you’ve never actually seen him up close.

Suddenly, Jack’s phone rang, and he picks it up with quite a bit of annoyance. “Yes. I’m at the library. The one next to the Starbucks, uh huh. Yep, I’ll be out now. Bye mom. Love you too.”

He turns it off, turning around to face you once again. “I have to get going,” he says, frowning. “But I’d be glad to help you with your AP Chemistry work. Here’s my number.”

You glance at the numbers, taking out your phone from your pocket, typing it into your contacts.

“Thanks Jack,” you say gratefully, “I thought you hated chem, though?”

“Oh I hate it.” He laughs. “But it doesn’t mean I’m bad at it. Just give me a call whenever.”

Jack Hughes walked away that day giddy that he had given his number to a cute girl, and you had walked away happy that you were finally getting chemistry help.

However, your happiness didn’t last long when you realized Jack Hughes had absolutely no idea what he was doing when it came to chemistry.

“No Jack!” You say bewilderingly as you watched him scribble a bunch of nonsense on your paper. “What is up with you?”

It was a week after you two had first met at the library and Jack was helping you out in the same study room he had walked into you crying last week.

“I’m sorry okay!” Jack panics, face in a red flush. “I have no idea what I’m doing! I don’t! I just said I did because you’re so cute and I couldn’t help it and I—”

Jack slaps his hands over his mouth before he could say further, shocked that he’s accidentally revealed to you how cute he thinks you are. “Oh my god.”

You furrow your eyebrows, but your stern look doesn’t last long before you burst out in giggles. “Why didn’t you just say so?” You ask.

He finally puts his hands back on the table, “I don’t know.. I guess I was scared of rejection.”

“You? Scared of rejection?” You raise your eyebrows. “Jack, you know girls in our grade and not in our grade would die to even be near you, right?”

Jack blushes at this, keeping his head down. “But those girls aren’t you, it’s different.”

Well goddamnit Jack Hughes, you really knew how to swoon a girl over.

"Really? And you're not just saying that to play me?"

Jack shakes his head quickly. "What? No Y/N, I would never."

And that was the start to yours and Jack's relationship. Although you still very much needed a chemistry tutor, you're glad the hockey player had somehow managed to sneak his way into your life, bringing joy and happiness while he was at it.

"Hey Rory, do you think this looks good on me?" Olivia "Livvy" Hughes, the Hughes' youngest child and also the only girl considered you as one of her best friends because you two were both girls. She was over the moon when Jack had brought you home, claiming she was going to finally have the sister she always wanted.

Needless to say, Quinn, Jack, and Luke were frowning that day at her comment.

The Hughes had started calling you Rory after Jack had. Why did he start calling you that? You really didn't know, but Jack had explained that the nickname was cute, and he had gotten it from your last name, which was Lerory.

"You look gorgeous Livvy!" You gleam happily, watching the younger girl in awe. "He is going to die."

"Who is going to die and why are you dressed up like you're going on a date Olivia Hughes?" The voice of your boyfriend makes you turn to face the boy, who had an unimpressed look on his face. "Who's the guy? Do I know him? I'm gonna kill him."

"Jack!" you scold, slapping his arm. "Your sister looks stunning, doesn't she?"

Jack mumbles something under his breath, to which you responded with an elbow to his side. "Fine. Yes Livs, you look amazing. Don't do anything stupid, alright?"

Livvy nods, before giving you a bone breaking hug for getting her brother off her back. She mumbles a love you thank you in your ear before running outside to Gabe, her date.

Jack places a kiss on your head, leading you to his room and placing a Netflix show on as background noise.

"I'm really glad you and Livvy get along," Jack says quietly. "I was worried you wouldn't for some reason."

"She's a great person J," you say, placing a peck on his lips. "And so are you."

The next time you're over at the Hughes house, there was a bunch of yelling and crying, much of which came from Jack and Livvy. Luke was on Jack's side, Quinn being gone in Vancouver.

"What's going on?" You mumble, feeling like you're an intruder coming into a scene that you were unwelcomed in.

"Did you know?!" Jack huffs angrily, now facing you.

"Did I know what, Jack?"

"Did you know she was dating Gabe Perreault? That kid who plays hockey for Princeton?"

So this is what this is all about. Jack was once again being his overprotective self.

"Yes J, I don't see the problem? He treats her well."

"Well I don't want her dating a hockey player! I know how they are! Luke and I know how they are!"

Livvy watches in tears as her brother continues yelling some more before making her way to you, practically falling into your arms.

"Jackson Rowden Hughes, you better stop yelling at Olivia before I do something about it. You are an adult, Jack. Livvy is an adult now, she's 18, she's allowed to date whomever she wants with or without your permission. Same goes with you, Luke Warren Hughes. You guys need to stop upsetting your sister! Just because Quinn isn't here doesn't mean you can corner and scream at her!"

Your words make Jack and Luke go mute, heads down in embarrassment when they realize how right your words were.

"Rory's right," Jack says awkwardly, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry Livvy. I didn't mean it, I just don't want you to get hurt."

Livvy nods, breaking the hug with you to go hug her brothers.

Later that night, Jack slips under the covers of his bed, putting his arms around your frame.

"You'd be a good mother Rory." He mumbles sleepily.

"Hm?"

"You'll be a good mom. I saw the way you handled my argument with Livvy earlier, thank you by the way. It shows how amazing you truly are." He places a kiss on your bare shoulder. "And I can't wait to have a family with you Y/N Lerory."

His words make you pull him closer, placing small kisses around his face. "I can't wait to have a family with you too, J."

Although Jack's words weren't true, and he wasn't ready at all.

Which is why the both of you were standing in the kitchen of your dorms, mascara running down your cheeks while Jack ruffles his hair in stress.

"What do you mean you're pregnant?" he says, eyebrows furrowing.

"Well what does it mean Jack?! It takes two people to make a baby!"

"You don't think I know that?!"

"Well by the way you're acting, it sure as hell feels like i'm the one at fault here!"

"I don't know Rory, I don't know." Jack's face is in his hands now, which gives you deja vu to when he first blurted out that he had found you cute. "I need time to think. I can't do this right now."

"What do you mean Jack?" you say, voice cracking as you reach out to him. "J, talk to me."

But he shakes his head, "I'm a professional hockey player now Y/N, you're a college student. I can't be doing this right now." With that, he leaves your dorm.

The next few days are spent with you in your bed, crying into your pillows. Your roommate, Madison, frowns as she watches your depressed state. She leaves an ice cream in your fridge, telling you words of encouragement and telling you that you can come to her anytime about anything.

When the news reaches Livvy, she's absolutely fuming, immediately taking out her phone to call you. Seeing your puffy eyes and cracked voice, she dials Jack right after, ready to give him a piece of her mind.

What she doesn't expect is to see him equally broken as you, eyebags heavy and eyes red.

"I know I fucked up Livs. I know." He says, crying at his desk. Although he's got the NHL title, a bunch of girls who would die to be with him, he still feels so utterly alone without you.

"You know what's funny Jack? You always warned me about how shitty hockey guys can be, you threw a fit because I was dating one, but you ended up being the biggest asshole of them all."

And Jack can do nothing but cry, because his younger sister's words were all too true.

[your-favblondie]

'*•.¸♡ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬♡¸.•*'

(This is one of my first times writing in the past few years and my first time writing in this way so please give me any criticism and any tips you guys may have!! Now on to the story :3)

Word Count: 625

Thank you to everyone who participated in the poll. Our winner was everyone's favorite emo, Choso!! I hope you enjoy the story and if you did leave a like or a comment down below!

Choso is soo sweet but also soooo sooo inexperienced in his relationships.

He probably has only dated one or two people before you if you aren't his first relationship.

He texts like a Victorian gentleman, uses no slang, and has perfect punctuation.

"Hello Sweetheart, I hope this message finds you well. Tell me how your day has been? Love, Choso"

His room is like a teenager's room, with posters and little collections of his favorite things, and on a shelf above his desk, he has pictures of you and his brothers, plus any gifts you've ever given him! (super sentimental) Has a matching couple's bracelets sitting on his desk for you two. ( Shhh he's gonna surprise you)

He's a very clean person! ( no dust shall cover his room) The type to always offer to help with dishes if he eats at another person's house.

Gives you little flowers he found and if you're going on a trip and he won't see you for a while he'll dry some flowers inside a book and give them to you! (he'd also do this on the regular for you and make bookmarks for you if you're an avid reader)

his love language is def gift-giving and touch!! holds your pinky with his, lets you hold onto his arm when you're out in public, and holds you from behind while you're talking with other people.

When he's sick he'll try and hide it because he feels like getting sick makes him weak and useless. ( Once you realize this you'll have to persuade him to let you take care of him. )

At the start of the relationship, I'd feel like he wouldn't be very into PDA mostly because he isn't all too used to it and hasn't been exposed to other couples doing PDA in front of him. But after a few years, it'll be the exact opposite problem will cling to you like a koala bear. Hugs from behind, sweet neck kisses, arm hung loosely around your waist, etc... He can't be away from his darling for too long or he might die!!

uses dramatization for humor, it started off as his version of trying to be sarcastic after you explained to him sarcasm. But he didn't quite catch on...

" Be careful Choso!" you called out to him as he pushed off to the ice skating rink. Recently the icey weather has made it possible to open up a skating rink so you and Choso decided to go and give it a try. Choso says he's great at skating since he and his brothers skated all the time at their non-ice skating rink. You tried to explain to him that they weren't exactly the same but didn't have the heart to break his confidence. Now you rush to put your skate on as your boyfriend waits patiently, well about as patient as a puppy, for you to join him. " let's go," he says holding your hand gently as you both step onto the rink, and for a second you think he might be okay. For a second only though... CRASH Now you stare at your boyfriend whose face planted right onto the ice and was still lying on the rink not being able to get up. as he keeps slipping back down your laughter only grows, you reach your hand out to him to help him steady himself, "I think you may be the greatest skater I've ever seen hunny" You tease. As he rises his face is full of confusion and he turns to look at you. "Baby I think to be a good skater you have to be able to stand?" He corrects you. "I'm being sarcastic chos- " "What is sarcastic?"

now every time he sucks at something he quickly jokes that he is the absolute best at it

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. I plan on continuing writing when I have the chance so please leave suggestions in the comments down below! I would greatly appreciate it! I may even do an NSFW ver. of Choso headcannons.

[rinkkuma]

୨୧ WINTER WITH THE HAIKYUU BOYS

ft. atsumu miya, hinata shoyo, & kageyama tobio

tags. includes a mix of christmas and winter activities, gn!reader, a bit of cussing, all fluff ! / author's note. happy holidays and i hope everyone has a great new year's! i wished it snowed where i live </3

ATSUMU MIYA

when your hands are cold he tries warming them up by blowing into them, but eventually gives up and just pouts and shoves your hands into his pockets.

as mentioned before, he loves decorating the christmas tree with you. has a large collection of ornaments as well, it's kinda scary.

christmas music is the only thing atsumu is listening to during decemeber. while he gets ready in the morning, doing homework, as he works out, you name it. he absolutely refuses to listen to anything else the whole 31 days.

atsumu bakes and decorates cookies with you!! you buy already pre-made cookie dough to save you and atsumu the hassle, but it always ends up chaotic anyways. atsumu tries to make various shaped cookies without using a cookie cutter since he feels he has more freedom without it and well, the cookies always end up spreading too much that you can't tell what it is. honestly not that bad at decorating with icing though, but they still sometimes come out questionable.

buys a fake mistletoe and hangs it on the front door so that you have to kiss him every time you leave the house. it's also an excuse to kiss you countless times everyday. atsumu believes he's an absolute mastermind for thinking this one up.

HINATA SHOYO

shoyo loves going out in the snow to build snowmen with you!! a majority of the time it just ends in you two having a snowball fight. he is absolutely heartbroken if someone destroys the snowman or whenever it melts.

ice skating!! since he has a great balance, he's a natural. he is actually a great teacher if you don't already know how to skate. goes slow and holds your hand the whole way. if you already know how to skate though, he playfully challenges you to a game of tag and immediately skates off before you get the chance to process what he said.

as much as he loves the outdoors and could honestly spend the whole day outside, it is quite the opposite during winter. shoyo enjoys staying inside during the rain/snow under the covers while watching christmas movies with you! his favorite christmas movie is definitely the polar express.

building forts!! a professional fort builder since his childhood. he makes them super cozy with a ton of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals. shoyo also hangs christmas lights inside to make it all the more festive. the fort is also paired with a christmas movie marathon, hot chocolate, and other christmas snacks.

buys chocolate advent calendars for you guys!! he looks forward to seeing all the fun shaped chocolates everyday. gets a little sad at the end of the month, and wishes all holidays had advent calendars.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

actually really good at decorating gingerbread houses. since his hands are so steady, the details are neat and precise. it honestly looks better than the one shown on the box.

simply going on walks in the snow and going to a cafe is one of tobio's favorite winter activities. holding each other's hands while stepping into the soft snow, and getting a nice, warm drink paired a pastry.

tobio gives you a shit ton of gifts, it's concerning. plans these gifts by listening to what you rant about wanting in previous weeks, asking your family/friends, and sneakily talk about stuff you would like. asks his sister for help on how to wrap the gifts, but they ultimately come out a little messy but he tried his best!

snow tubing is a must for tobio. he loves bundling up in warm clothes before, and makes sure you 100% are. you will not get sick on his watch!! he loves going tubing at night though since they have pretty colored lights on. tobio also attaches his tube to yours every time, because he likes seeing you smile and laugh throughout the ride.

buys multiple matching pajamas for you and him. varying from the abominable red flannel pajama pants, reindeer onesies, to grinch pajamas, tobio has it all.

[femmescripter]

Medley of Maxley Headcanons

Greetings, all! It's been a long time since I've made an original post. So I wanted to make one for a favorite old pairing I enjoy that's been making a resurgence. A collection of all my Maxley headcanons. I hope that you enjoy them! Species Headcanons Max is a Labradoodle, a designer crossbreed between a Labrador Retriever and a Standard/Miniature Poodle. Along with being great family companions they're known for being great service dogs. Both breeds are in the Sporting Group and are water retriever dogs. He gets his Labrador Retriever side from Goofy and his Standard Poodle side from his late mother. I picked this breed for Max because both breeds have loppy ears, black fur and outgoing personalities. Bradley is a Saluki, a purebred dog that originally comes from the Fertile Crescent region of the Middle East. It is well known for its hunting prowess and hunts by sight rather than scent, making it a sighthound. Additionally in Islamic culture it is the only dog that's described as being clean. I picked this dog for Bradley because the common fur coloring for the breed and its background as a hunting dog fits his personality and overall look. It's also used as a mascot for the Southern Illinois University Carbondale varsity athletic teams, called the Southern Illinois Salukis. And being the athlete that he is just made it an even more perfect choice for Bradley.

Regular Headcanons Bradley, being the Alpha male type that he is, will howl at Max when he walks by to tease him. The first time he did it Max whipped around to slap him out of instinct. Bradley barely dodged it but still likes to tease the cute freshman by howling at him. Now Max just rolls his eyes at the senior. Although he can't deny that he blushes a bit whenever Bradley does it.

Max likes pop music, which surprises a lot of people as he comes off as an alternative music type. And recently he's gotten into city pop(Japanese 70's/80's pop songs). So Bradley takes Max on a surprise trip to Japan to attend a live city pop concert.

Max is a chili head, and Bradley tries to eat a super-hot Serrano pepper chili to impress him. Even in spite of the fact that he has the spice tolerance of a two-year old. It goes about as well as you think. But Max is there with a nice, triple chocolate fudge ice cream cone and gives the Uppercrust a kiss for effort.

Bradley is very possessive and dangerously protective of Max. He does not tolerate anyone who's not part of Max's inner circle touching his freshman. Once at a party a guy tried to get handsy with Max when Bradley turned his head for a moment. Max tried to make the guy back off for his own sake - but it was too late. Bradley already had the creep out on his ear. For the rest of the party Bradley keeps Max sitting in his lap. And even as they leave, he carries Max all the way back to his dorm.

Before either of them enters a skating contest, Max and Bradley always rub noses for good luck. It was a little intimate tradition of theirs that started by accident when they bumped into each other - and their noses touched. Bradley quite liked the sensation, and Max finds it cute how the Uppercrust is a secret romantic. So they started rubbing noses for good luck.

Bradley likes to watch 70's/80's Saturday morning cartoons(i.e. Transformers Generation 1 and G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero), but he never told anyone until he started dating Max. When he told him the Labradoodle started watching the cartoons with Bradley - also having an interest in them. Max even got Bradley a collector's edition action figure from a favorite cartoon of his for his birthday. It was then that Bradley knew he wanted Max to be the new Mr. Uppercrust.

Whenever Bradley is upset he'll seek out Max to lay his head on his lap, and the Labradoodle rubs his scalp. Doesn't matter if Max is at the library studying, chilling at the park or it's late at night and he's about to go to bed. Bradley will text him that he's mad and Max immediately knows what he needs. He'll tell him where he is and Bradley will come to him and lay his head down on his lap, an angry pout on his face as he lets Max rub his scalp. Cute as this is, professors did have to express to Bradley that this isn't allowed in the middle of a midterm. When Bradley proposed to Max, he told him that there was no pressure or expectation to take his name or even hyphenate it. He's actually come to like the name Goof - and knows how much it means to Max. The Labradoodle found this very endearing of the Saluki to reassure him. However Max did at least want to hyphenate his last name. So, on the day of their wedding, Bradley Uppercrust the 3rd and Maximilian Goof-Uppercrust were wedded.

Max does get jealous over Bradley, but it's a bit more complex. Along with general insecurity Max is an angry jealous type. Not angry at Bradley - but angry at the person who tries to steal him or make light of their relationship either by claiming Max is just a gold digger or Bradley just has his wealth and looks to offer. Max would be rightfully pissed and tell off the person by saying Bradley is more than just some rich guy. He may be an arse, but he's trying to do better. And how it's more than he can say for his peers who go out of their way to be nasty people. And if it's someone trying to steal Bradley he tells them off by saying how trashy it is to go after a guy who's already attached and how they could have all the money in the world and still not buy good taste. Then he storms off. Bradley of course is elated to see his normally sweet Goof show some fire. And he spends that whole week just spoiling him from roses to breakfast in bed. Footnote: Don't panic at that last part ! He had someone else cook!

Bradley has always had an affinity for horror movies, so when a school dance was coming he got on a Scream costume and did the whole "Do you like scary movies" bit with Max and towards the end asked if he wants to be his "final girl". Dork that he is Max giggled and said yes.

Bradley was so nervous about asking Goofy for his permission to date/marry Max he actually gave him a bridal dowry. Let's just say you could rent two thirds of Spoonerville for what Bradley gave. But Goofy was cool about it and said that Bradley has his permission. Although he would like a new fishing rod, and Bradley happily got him a top of the line one.

Max wears a white-tailed suit to give the illusion of a gown as the bride and a veil. Bradley wears a classic black tuxedo as the groom. In place of a garter Max wore an ankle band for Bradley to take off and toss. A very special headcanon for all of you House of Mouse enjoyers! Bradley comes to the club every night Max works and always tips him. None of the Gammas, even Tank, go along with him after the first dozen(well for the other members it was the first three times, for Tank it was the first dozen) times because Bradley so shamelessly fawns over Max in his uniform. Older Disney characters like Aladdin and Hercules try to tell him to just talk to Max…but as the kids say, he fumbles the bag. Often. It takes Pongo doing his old ring around the leash trick to literally bring the two together for it to finally click and they actually get together romantically. Max's pet name for Bradley is dreamboat, while the Saluki's pet name for the Labradoodle is macaron. Max speaks fluent French thanks what he learned from his late mother's side of the family, as she originally hailed from Paris. While he doesn't have an accent per se his voice does change into a distinct tone when he speaks French. And it really gets Bradley in a romantic mood any time Max says so much as "croissant". Bradley's Family Headcanons

Bradley having emotionally/physically abusive parents or even a whole rotten family is getting really tired out. So, I'm going to do what Spongebob said and make aggressively NICE people!

Bradley's father, Bradley Uppercrust the Second or Bradman as to avoid confusion with his father or son, is a successful man and a man about town. He's intelligent, a strong leader and also a family man. However…he's a might uncoordinated. Like very uncoordinated. Like…Well like this fella here. For those who don't know, for reference's sake, this is Inspector Clouseau from the original live action Pink Panther film franchise.

Anyway, Bradley could never understand how in the world his accident/danger prone father got to where he was without offing himself just by walking on air. But if nothing else Bradman has a good head on his shoulders(which is amazing that he can keep it on) and is always there to support his son. However, he does wish that Bradley would tone down the intensity at times. As such Bradman views Max as a true blessing as someone who can keep his son grounded and as much on the straight and narrow as possible. Eloise Uppercrust is a mix of two women. The kind you see in beauty pageants, and the kind you see play as the dangerous femme fatale luring the hero to their doom as she was the villain all along. If Bradley got his smarts and looks from his dad, he definitely got his cunning and athletic prowess from his mom. Eloise is not a woman to trifle with, especially when it comes to her loved ones and career. She's a woman filled with ambition and righteous fury. But she can take a moment to settle and be a peaceful lamb when in the presence of her two most favorite men. When it comes to Bradley's fierce competitive streak Eloise does blame herself as she feels she didn't teach her son that there are times when you should stop and not go overboard. So, when Max comes along and shows himself as being both able to keep up with Bradley and having the willpower to make Bradley stop when he needs to, Eloise immediately approves of her future son-in-law. Mercedes Uppercrust, or Mercy for short, is Bradley's tween younger sister. She's usually reserved by nature but does have a wild side that she lets loose when she gets a burst of excitement. Mercy is very close to Bradley but felt that she was losing touch with him after he got more involved with the X-Games and felt that he was more focused on being the champion than he was being a person. And, by extension, being her big brother. So when Max came into the picture and began to help Bradley get on the road to the redemption Mercy looked up to the Labradoodle as a hero. A child prodigy in her own right, Mercedes has a predilection for all things music and cooking. Her favorite instrument to play is the harp and she greatly enjoys baking. And when she learned that Max is a culinary arts major and likes to listen to music Mercedes told Bradley not to blow it with him. Bradley Uppercrust the First, or Grandfather Lee, may be an older gentleman but he has a sharp mind and a strong spirit. Being the doting family man that he is Grandfather Lee loves his son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren very much. When it comes to Bradley he wants nothing more than for him to find the person that he wants to be and for him to be happy in his choice, rather than trying to continue what he thinks is a legacy his grandfather is trying to set up. Grandfather Lee actually takes a great liking to Max as his bright spirit reminds him of his dear late wife. And as it happens the oldest Uppercrust has a rather surprising past that not even Bradley was fully aware of. In his youth, Grandfather Lee was a vocal coach who taught the one and only Powerline. And he was actually backstage when Max and Goofy got on stage with the singer at his concert all those years ago to provide support for his old student. So, in a way, Max has actually "met" Bradley's family early on. Suffice to say - Grandfather Lee gives Max his blessing. Max is a Gamma AU Headcannon

Deciding that he wanted Max apart of the Gammas more than anything, Bradley begrudgingly agreed to let P.J. and Bobby join the Mu Mu fraternity as well. So the freshmen all joined in with the Gammas for the X-Games. And before long Max pretty much became the den mother of the bunch. Having lived with a single dad Max knows about how to run a house and clean. Even though his aloof, free-spirited nature would have you thinking otherwise. He listens to the other Gamma members and talks to them when they need a sympathetic ear. And he knows how to cook actual food, which has certainly worked to strengthen the bonds of brotherhood. Max's kind nature has also helped Bradley chill out. So much that this year he decides not to cheat for the X-Games. Mainly because he knows how disappointed Max would be if he found out.

At some point when Goofy arrives at the college, though, Bradley does feel compelled to come clean to Max about not always having been the nicest guy(understatement) but quickly adds that Max made him want to change. Of course Max is disappointed like he expected him to be. He even contemplates quitting the team. But eventually he's just glad that Bradley decided not to cheat this time - and tells him he'll stay if he puts in the work to win the competition fairly. Bradley does so, and the Gammas do win. It doesn't take much after that before Max and Bradley start dating, and the king soon lands himself a freshman consort.

[majasleeps]

Ice Breaker

(first fanfic on here so idk how to format it but it'll be fine. also i'll be mainly making shit up so if anyone plays hockey... my apologies in advance lol)

Tim Lafleur x gn!reader

summary: you're a hockey player and a damn good one at that. You've loved being on the ice as long as you can remember and ever since discovering hockey it's been difficult to get you off the ice! You play in a local team for a college in Virginia and one day you encounter a particular boy on an opposing team.

1991

It's a few weeks before the high school tournaments start and your hockey team is in the rink practicing.

"FUCK!" the person you just slammed into the edge of the rink lets out a series of curses. You hear a whistle from your coach and you roll your eyes already knowing the reason. Yet he still yells it out for everyone to hear, "L/N! Excessive violence! Last warning or you're getting pulled."

You groan to yourself but nod at him in acknowledgement anyway and skate back to your post. Of course you help the person you technically assaulted since he was your teammate after all.

Yup, this was just practice but why shouldn't you give it your all here too? At least that's your reasoning. Especially seeing how you'll be up against actual other teams in just a few weeks. You had to be ready!

Well anyway you go on to train more, get a few warnings here and there, actually get put on the bench after causing one of your team player's nose to bleed. And the weeks pass by like it was nothing.

You're in the rink, getting ready in your position as you stare down some of the members of the opposing team, 'the enemies', as you dubbed them in your head.

And even though all of the players are 15 year olds, one stands out to you, mainly because he's quite a bit taller than the other kids, even compared to your team. But no time to think on that as the start signal is given. Everyone shoots in action and you're thriving in the competition. One person gets tackled, then another, someone shoots and misses and the other scores. It feels exhilarating especially looking at the board and seeing you're one point ahead.

Time's almost up and that tall kid from before seems to think he's gonna get a final puck in before the timer goes off. Well not on your watch. As he skates closer, evading the offensive lines on your team, he's getting ready to shoot. But just before he gets the chance you slam him to the ground with your own body, and a whistle and airhorn signal that 1) you got a warning (what a surprise) but 2) time's up. And your team won.

You celebrate inwardly for a quick second before getting up and stretching out your hand to the boy you tackled out of good sportsmanship. Although he doesn't seem to appreciate it, he smacks your hand away, gets up while ripping of his helmet, "What is your problem?!" he semi-yells.

You take off your own helmet so he can see your disgruntled expression. You shrug and say "Losing, losing is my problem so I won't lose."

He scoffs and skates away and you do the same to go celebrate with your team.

And even though this first impression was pretty sour, you can't tell if it bettered or not throughout the years. Neither of you ever knew each other that well, always different schools, always different districts yet somehow you two would always end up facing each other on the ice.

Years went by and you actually started to enjoy this rivalry between the two of you. Sometimes you won and he'd be pouty but sometimes you lost and he couldn't stop smirking. In the beginning that for sure bothered you but as this went on you didn't mind losing to him anymore. As you grew older of course you started learning things about him as well, like that his name is Tim Lafleur and a weird kid in general, at least according to every teammate he's ever had.

1998

Now he is in a university and you're in college and with busy life styles it doesn't leave much room for socializing. But you could always count on the ice to bring the two of you together. Over the years most of the original teams miraculously stayed pretty much the same. Here and there someone left and someone else took their place but amongst both your teams it had become a sort of unspoken rule that in the rink, no one gets to tackle you except Tim, and no one tackled Tim but you.

You're in the game playing against Tim's team and it's going great. The score is 2-2 and you're thrilled whenever you get closer to the goal because Tim would of course try to prevent you from getting even closer. And if you didn't know better, you'd think he was enjoying himself as much as you were.

Another goal scored by your team so you're now in the lead. Tim has the puck and is getting awfully close to a good position to score a goal. So you head straight for him, however you suppose the new fella in your team didn't get the memo about that unspoken rule. Because as you're almost there, the new guy slams Tim into the wall and a nauseating crack can be heard. Now usually when it's you, sure you're rough but Tim had always been smiling and gotten up within a few seconds.

But now... he lay there, silently groaning and not making a move to get up. A shock had not just overcome you but both teams and the entire crowd, everyone was silent. You were the first to snap out of it and rush to Tim.

"Jesus fuck! Are you alright Tim? Are you hurt?" you question him as you get down on your teams and turn him on his back. When you do he lets out a sharp gasp and you see that something is definitely wrong with his wrist...it's bend, and not in the right direction.

You turn to your teammate and yell out at him, "What is wrong with you?! You broke his fucking wrist, dickbag!!"

Another groan from Tim and your head immediately flies to him, speaking softly and reassuring him he'll be fine. By this time the coach has already come up to you two and informed the stand-by medics. People shot in action and in seemingly no time, Tim got carried away, and you were left to stand alone on the cracked ice.

After everything has calmed down, you go up to your coach.

"Hey coach? Is Tim gonna be alright?" He looks at you and lets out a slow breath.

"He'll be fine, Y/N. Going to take a while to recover from a broken wrist and some fractured fingers though so I doubt he'll be on the ice much"

You mull over his words for a bit before gathering up the courage to ask, "Is there any way I can visit him?" The tone in your voice almost makes you sound sheepish, as if this is taboo to ask, he IS your 'rival' after all.

He gives you a faint smile, "I'll talk to their coach to see if we can arrange anything yeah?" You smile back at that answer and nod your head.

Thanks to the coaches you're able to visit him at his apartment a few days later, though you're a bit self-conscious about it. Showing up at his apartment without him ever having told you the address might seem a bit weird.

But your worries melt away when you knock on the door and that white haired boy with all the piercings opens up. And when he notices it's you, he's smiling.

"Hey Y/N! Didn't expect you to visit me of all people", he laughs a bit.

You roll your eyes but nonetheless smile up at him, somehow he's gotten even taller over the years.

"How's the wrist doing? Heard it was a nasty surgery?" you asked him.

"Oh yeah blood and flesh everywhere" he's making exaggerated hand motions with his good hand causing you both to giggle. "Umm, anyway you wanna come in?" he offers looking at you expectantly.

"Yeah sure!" you didn't mean your face to light up when you accepted and you hope he didn't notice. He thinks it's cute you're happy to be around him.

He leads you to his bedroom, quickly introducing you to his roommate Darryl. He flops on the bed and hisses out as the motion was a tad too violent for his arm.

You hurry next to him on his bed, trying to make sure he's okay. "You good there?" you ask as you take his arm carefully.

He grimaces a bit at first but it soon turns into a playful smirk. "No it hurts so much Y/N!" he exclaims dramatically, "I think the only thing that could heal my wounds is a kiss" He looks at you as he says that, his smile never fading but now there's a slight anxiety in his eyes. You don't notice that and just roll your eyes. You decide to play along, "okay there big guy, but I don't think my kisses are magical enough to heal broken bones", and you kiss the cast around his wrist.

"There, feel better?" you laugh along with him. He seems to get a glint of confidence in his eye as he bites his lip hard around to draw a bit of blood.

"You think you could kiss this wound too?" as he point at his lower lip.

You're speechless for a moment and it's enough for him to backtrack. He starts rambling that you don't have to and it was a dumb idea, etc. Before he can go on, you lean in and give him a peck on the small puncture wound in his lip.

Now it's his turn to be stunned as you sit there equally flustered. A moment of silence before the two you start smiling like idiots in love, which frankly, you were.

"I think I need a bit more of those magic lips, love." He says and you silently agree as you lean in again, this time slower, for a proper kiss. Like two ice skaters in the rink, your lips graciously glide together to form an amazing symphony of fireworks in your head and heart. The both of you are still smiling in the kiss and you can still taste the bit of blood but neither of you mind it.

You're probably softly kissing each other for a few minutes before finally breaking away and taking the chance to get a proper breath.

You grin at him and say "I guess I'll be seeing you off the ice more often then right?"

He grins back "Oh absolutely"

[tkwrites]

Worth the Wait - Quinn Hughes x ofc

photos from pinterest

Title: Worth the Wait

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: Swearing, grief, mentions of a dead mother. Mostly, it’s fluff.

Summary: It takes more than a week, but Quinn and Sarah finally go on their second date.  

Word count: 5,500

Comments: This one is a little long, but I felt like all the parts were needed to flesh out the characters the way I wanted. I hope you enjoy! 

Part 2 is being planned as we speak!

Worth the Wait

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Hey Sarah, I just wanted to let you know we’re headed out on the road, so I’ll be out of town for the next week. 

Quinn sent this message before boarding the plane. He’d never done something like this before - tell someone he was interested in that he wouldn’t be home. He didn’t want Sarah to think he was ignoring her, or putting off their next date. 

Can I see you when you get back? 

Definitely, he sent, a giddy, effervescent feeling in his stomach.

The following evening, for the first time in her life, Sarah sat down to watch a hockey game. 

Eunice was in their living room, anxiously awaiting the start of the game. Currently watching people talk about betting odds in her Canucks t-shirt, a stuffed orca on the cushion next to her. 

Sarah had lived with Eunice for a little over a year. They were friends in the way two people coming together for convenience could be friends. She was nice and sweet, and made the best mac & cheese Sarah had ever eaten. She was also dramatic and had a borderline obsessive love for many things, including the Canucks. Sarah had never paid much attention to that particular obsession, as it didn’t cross over into her life, until now. 

“You okay?” Eunice asked when Sarah sat down.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You never watch hockey with me, I thought maybe you were sad or something.” 

“Oh, no, my project is done, so I’m free for the night and thought I’d join.” 

Eunice squealed and threw her arms around Sarah, “I’m so excited to introduce you to the best sport in the world!”

Feeling instantly overwhelmed, Sarah put on a brave face, and watched as the national anthem began to play. The camera scanned over the players, 5 stood separate from the others in a line, and her heart jumped into her throat when Quinn’s face came across the screen. He looked impassively at the camera. He seemed so different than when they had met, determined and competitive, not so quiet and interested. It was strange to reconcile the two as the same person. 

“What does the C mean?” 

“It means he’s the captain. That’s Quinn Hughes. He’s like, the best defenseman in the league.” 

"Isn't he a little small to play defense?" Sarah asked, surprised. 

Eunice looked personally affronted. "Hughes is an amazing skater, which is the most important thing in being a good defenseman. Defense in Hockey is more tactical than super physical." 

When the game finally began, Sarah was instantly overwhelmed. They moved so quickly, and it was damn near impossible for her to keep track of the puck. There were terms being thrown around by the commentators that were so niche, she didn’t even know where to begin figuring them out.

“What’s icing?” she asked when there was a commercial break. 

“So, it’s when a team shoots the puck to the other end of the rink, but no one is there to receive it.” 

She knew that wasn’t quite right. There were plenty of times before the break when that very thing happened, but no icing was called, and couldn’t the goalie receive it and negate that altogether? 

“And there’s no out of bounds?” 

“Nope. Just the rink. You can get penalized for shooting the puck over the glass though.” 

The game continued, and after a scuffle, Quinn skated off to sit by himself. 

“Why is he there?” 

“He got a penalty. High sticking,” Eunice said without any additional explanation. 

The announcers replayed the offense in slower motion, showing how in the midst of a play, Quinn had accidentally hit another player in the jaw with his stick. 

“That doesn’t seem like it should be a penalty when it was an accident,” Sarah said. The other guy wasn’t even bleeding.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s part of the game. Keep control of your stick all the time.” 

The camera moved back to Quinn in the little cell. He removed his helmet and rubbed a towel over his face and hair before replacing it.

Eunice sighed dramatically, “God, he’s so hot.” 

Sarah had to agree. He did look hot - supremely so. Flushed and sweaty, it was difficult to keep her mind off imagining him in her bed like that.

“Wait, why is it 4 against 5?” Sarah asked as the game began again. 

“Cause Hughes got a penalty,” Eunice said, as if this was all the explanation Sarah should need. 

Sarah stopped asking questions. Every time Eunice had tried to explain something in the past, she would get so excited, she would leave out key points, or assume Sarah had background knowledge she didn’t, and Sarah would end up even more confused. She often had to look up whatever they were talking about after their conversation anyway. 

The period ended, and Eunice left the living room. 

Sarah continued reading the article about the basics of hockey she had pulled up on her phone at the last commercial break. She wished she could watch with someone who would patiently explain each rule as it passed in the game. She had learned Football from her dad that way. Maybe Quinn could explain it to her. 

“Okay, so what’s really up?” Eunice asked when she returned, plopping back down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a bag of caramels.  

“What do you mean?” 

Holding up one finger, she said, “you’re watching hockey with me,” she held up a second, “you’re trying to understand it,” a third finger went up, “and you’re, like, actually interested in sports?” 

“I’m interested in sports,” Sarah defended. “We’re a football family. My uncle coached.” 

“Whatever,” she waved her hand dismissively, “it’s a dumb American sport anyway.” 

Sarah rolled her eyes, but didn’t take the bait. 

“All I’m saying is that we’ve lived together for over a year, and you have never, not once, expressed any kind of interest in Hockey and I want to know what changed.”

The commercials ended and the camera cut to someone interviewing Quinn, who was in his full kit sans helmet. He answered questions in the same quiet, methodical way he had answered her on their date. Only this time, he said a lot of words without actually saying much of anything. 

Sarah chewed on her lip. 

“Did you finally discover how hot hockey players are?” Eunice teased.

“I don’t -” Sarah cut off, pushing a breath out her nose in frustration. 

She was about to tell Eunice that hot guys were not the only reason she watched sports, only to realize that that’s precisely what she was doing. 

“I met him,” she finally admitted. 

“You met who?” 

“Quinn,” Sarah said, gesturing to the TV. 

“Met? You MET Quinn Hughes?” Eunice asked, turning in slow motion to look at Sarah. “When?!” 

Sarah started, “on Monday.”

“Where? What? How?” Eunice demanded, her voice getting progressively louder with each word. 

“He came into the aquarium, asked some questions after one of my talks, and then asked if I wanted to get lunch.” 

“He asked you to lunch?” Eunice repeated. 

“Yeah, we went to get bao.” 

“Like on a date?” 

“I think so. I mean, he paid, and he got my phone number aft-”

“Quinn Hughes asked you for your phone number,” Eunice thundered, “and you didn’t think to tell me about it?” 

It probably wasn’t the right time for Sarah to point out that she and Eunice really didn’t have that kind of a relationship. In fact, Sarah hadn’t told anyone but Beth, her best friend from back home, who had been thrilled Sarah had finally met a good guy.

“Sorry,” Eunice said, settling on the couch like a proper lady in a period drama, folding her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to flip out.” 

Sarah wasn’t sure how she should react. She hadn’t intended on telling Eunice at all, worried - justly, it turned out - that she would freak.  

“But oh my fucking God,” Eunice yelled, throwing her hands up and breaking her posture to flop dramatically into a slouch. 

“What’s going on?” Jane asked, leaning in the door frame, rubbing sleep from her eyes. 

“Quinn Hughes asked Sarah for her phone number,” Eunice declared, gesturing to Sarah as if she were the reason Jane was up early before her graveyard shift, not her own yelling. 

Jane perked awake, “really?” 

“Yeah,” Eunice said, sounding like a petulant teenager.  

“Oh my God. I didn’t think this was a big deal,” Sarah said, putting her head in her hands. 

“That the most eligible bachelor in the whole city of Vancouver asked you for your number? I’d say that’s a pretty big fuckin deal.” 

“He’s just a guy, Eunice.”

“I’d beg to differ," Jane cut in. “It is a pretty big deal.” 

“So he’s not a guy?”

Both women rolled their eyes at her. 

“Of course he’s a guy,” Eunice said, exasperated. 

“But he’s not ‘just’ a guy,” Jane said, air quotes and all. “He’s a little more than that, I think.” 

“Why? Because he’s a professional athlete?” 

“Yeah. And millions of women across the world want to marry him.”

“He’s handsome and all, but I can’t believe that’s true,” Sarah said. “Do millions of women even watch hockey?” 

At the fierce glares she received from both of her Canadian roommates, Sarah held up her hands in defeat. “Okay, okay. Maybe millions of women watch hockey, and some of them find him attractive. But for my purposes, he’s just a guy. He was just a guy on our date.” 

“It's not about you,” Jane said. 

Sarah raised her eyebrows in a challenge. 

“What we mean is that it’s a big freaking deal that Quinn asked for your number.” 

She reeled back, “Is it so hard to believe that he would be attracted to me?” 

“No!” they both shouted, Eunice exasperated while Jane was horrified. 

“Of course he’s attracted to you. Look at you.”

“I think what Eunice means is that Quinn Hughes has celebrity status in this city, and so him asking for your number means that he saw something really special in you. Women throw themselves at him every day.” 

Sarah wrinkled her nose in disgust. 

“It’s like, a major, major compliment,” Eunice said. 

Biting her tongue, Sarah resisted the urge to tell her that it was a major compliment if anyone asked for her number, celebrity status or not. 

“So, are you going out again?” Eunice asked, sitting back down on the couch. 

“I mean, we said we would, but he’s out of town until next week, so I guess we will when he gets back?” 

“Oh man,” Eunice said, leaning back in her seat. “You are living such a fanfiction right now.” 

Sarah snorted and rolled her eyes. 

Jane yawned. “I’m going back to bed. I have to be at the hospital at 2 in the morning.” 

“I’m sorry we woke you up,” Sarah said. 

Shaking her head, Jane smiled. “I’m glad Quinn saw the same things the rest of us do. If anyone deserves a fanfiction love story, it’s you.”

Heat raced into her cheeks, and Sarah smiled, turning back to the TV as the game began again. 

“I cannot believe this,” Eunice said, picking up the stuffed whale to clutch in her hands. “You’ve got to introduce me to Kuzmenko.” 

“Who?” 

A few nights later, Quinn was slipping into a dinner booth in St. Louis when his phone pinged with a message. 

Hey, I don't know what your schedule is next week, but The Electric is showing the Star Wars movies starting Sunday if you want to catch one together?

His heart jumped into his throat so fast, he made a sort of gasping choking nose that had Elias clapping him on the back. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Quinn said, clearing his throat. 

“Who is that from?” Petey asked quietly. 

Quinn was suddenly overwhelmingly thankful that he wasn’t sitting next to anyone else, who surely would have made a big scene of announcing that he got a text about a date to everyone in the near vicinity. Petey knew he preferred his privacy, and always respected that. 

“Remember that girl I was telling you about last week? The one from the aquarium?” 

His eyebrows shot up, “that’s her?” he asked, nodding at the phone.

Quinn nodded. 

As Elias watched, Quinn pulled up their practice and game schedules. 

Sounds awesome. I’m back in town Wednesday and free on Thursday or Saturday nights. 

Almost immediately, the icon of her typing appeared. His heart began to hammer a little harder, pulsing in his throat in that nervous, I-can’t-wait-to-talk-to-her way he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Thursday is The Empire Strikes Back, so I’m guessing that’s our choice. Unless you’d rather see the Force Awakens on Saturday?

Thursday is great.

Cool. I’ll get us tickets. Showtime is at 7 and they have a special menu for dinner and drinks at 6. 

Sounds great.

It was as simple as that. Quinn had never had a date planned so smoothly. 

Her text bubble popped up again, before going away. He gulped some of his nervousness down. 

When he clicked off the screen and looked at Elias, he found the other man smiling at him knowingly. 

“What?” 

“I didn’t think she existed.” 

“Sarah? You thought I was making her up?” 

Petey rolled his eyes, “No. I didn’t think the girl you always talk about wanting to date existed. But she’s right there,” he gestured to Quinn’s phone. 

Feeling his cheeks flush, Quinn shrugged to deflect the wave of sincere agreement that washed over him by busing himself with the menu. 

Leaving her last class, Sarah was beyond thankful to leave campus and go home. She was exhausted to the bone. It had been a hard week of studying and midterms. On top of that, nervous, excited energy was buzzing under her skin in anticipation of her date with Quinn that evening. 

When she got home and finally pulled her phone from her bag, she found a missed call from him. Stomach dropping, worry billowed into her thoughts like smoke. He was probably calling to say he couldn’t come. Why else would he call when they’d only texted so far?

 Rapid fire, her thoughts rifled through friends that might want to come to the movie before she snapped back to herself. This was her anxiety talking. It wasn’t the truth.

Taking the time to pull in a few deep breaths, she told herself he could be calling about something other than canceling. It took eight breaths before she felt calm enough to call him back.

The phone rang three times before he answered. “Hey.”

“Hi, sorry I missed you earlier, I was in my last midterm.” 

 “I’m sorry,” he said, wincing. That was one thing he didn’t miss about college. There wasn’t a lot, but the pressure of midterms and finals were something he was happy to live the rest of his life without. 

“Well, it’s done now, so I’m just excited to take a nap.” 

He laughed. 

“So what’s up?” she asked, trying, and failing, to not sound nervous. 

“I wondered where I should pick you up tonight,” he said. 

Relief sighed through her legs and she sunk onto the bed. “I was planning to meet you there.” 

“I can come pick you up,” he offered. There was no need for her to take the train when he could drive them. 

This was always an awkward conversation, but one she’d constructed with her therapist to ease her anxiety. If someone didn’t respect this, it was a sure sign she didn’t want to date them. “Quinn, you seem like a great guy, but I don’t want you to pick me up. I don’t know you very well.” 

A long pause passed over the phone. She wondered if she was going to have to explain this concept to him. 

Honestly, Quinn hadn’t heard that line in a long time. He knew from friends that women often did this to protect themselves, but something about his presence in the media made women trust him implicitly. He hadn’t taken advantage of that - he would never - but it had infiltrated his thoughts before, how easy it would be. 

She stood up for herself, and kept herself safe, and he respected her for that. “That makes sense,” he said.

It was so much easier than she’d been expecting, that Sarah had a hard time coming up with words.

“So I’ll meet you there?” he said when she didn’t say anything. 

“Great.”

“What time?” 

“Dinner starts at 6, so I figured like 6:15?” 

“Great. I’ll meet you out front?” 

“Sounds great.” 

They said some pleasant goodbyes and she flopped back on the bed. Karma was really seeing this one though. Nice, interested, a bit nerdy, and respectful, not to mention handsome, Sarah had hardly allowed herself to dream up a guy like Quinn. And now, here he was, suddenly in her life. A feeling like she’d just drunk champagne began to fizz in her stomach. A smile spread over her face as she hugged her pillow and set an alarm.  

Walking up to the theater, Quinn wiped his hands on his jeans, hoping he wasn’t about to revert back into a teenage boy with sweaty palms. He had to pee again. Nerves always shrunk his bladder. It hadn't happened in a game since he was ten, but other places - getting on a stage, press conferences, dates - always made him nervous. 

The theater was an old fashioned, stand alone cement building. A ticket booth complete with marquee lights sat between two sets of French doors. Sarah was already there, leaning against the wall, looking up at the building across the street. It surprised him she wasn't on her phone.

“Hey,” he said as he got closer. 

“Hi,” she said, meeting his eyes with a smile that made his stomach ache. Her lips were darker, making them stand out a little more. His eyes were drawn to them like a magnet. 

She slipped her arms around his neck for a hug. It felt so natural this time as he pulled her into his chest. 

As she broke away, she asked, “ready?”

He nodded, and she walked over to the ticket window, “I have a reservation for two under Roberts.”

The teenager working looked up from his phone. His gaze drifted past her. “You’re Quinn Hughes,” he said, mouth falling open.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder. 

“Hey, what’s up man?” Quinn said as if someone hadn’t just told him who he was. 

The employee - who couldn’t have been more than sixteen - was still staring at Quinn, even when he didn’t say anything else. 

“You’re coming to the show tonight?” he finally asked. 

Sarah had never felt so looked over in her life. It wasn’t that she was jealous. She would never want that kind of attention, but there was common decency not being met here. 

“We’re trying to,” she said, not unkindly, nudging him back to her reservation. 

The boy started. He blinked a few times before he said, “sorry, what was the name?” 

“Sarah Roberts.”

As they walked into the foyer. The ticket clerk slipped out of the booth, and came up to them, “hey man, I’m sorry to interrupt, but could I get an autograph? My girlfriend is a huge fan.” 

Quinn nodded, and reached for the paper and pen he held out. 

“Thanks so much, enjoy your show!” 

As soon as they turned around, a harried looking woman with flyaway strawberry blonde hair came rushing up to them. “Mr. Hughes, we’re so glad you can be with us tonight.” Apparently, Mr. “you’re Quinn Hughes” had spread the news. 

He gave her a polite smile. 

“I just wanted to let you know, we upgraded your reservations to one of our more private love seats in the back.”

“That’s very nice, but it’s not necessary,” he said, feeling embarrassed. Sarah was never going to go out with him again if their first date was under this much of a microscope. 

“Oh, no,” she said with a strained smile, “I insist.” 

Sarah looked up at him, wondering what was going to happen here. 

“Well, thank you,” he said, knowing that arguing would only draw more attention. So far, the other patrons were ignoring them, and he wanted to keep it that way. 

“Let me show you to your new seats.” She led them to a plush couch tucked into the back of the theater. No neighbors and a perfect view of the screen. No one would even need to walk in front of them to get to the bar or the bathroom. 

“Thanks so much,” Sarah said. 

The woman walked away, and she turned to Quinn with wide eyes, “that was wild.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, his hand going to the back of his neck. 

“Does that happen a lot?”

He shrugged, “sometimes. Most people are pretty cool, though.” 

“I actually thought about reserving this, but it was like triple the price, and I’m on a grad school budget, so…” she trailed off, her cheeks flushing as she clasped her hands together.

“The seats we had before would have been great,” he said, “people make a fuss.” He knew this woman was probably hoping he would share the theater on his social media, but finding a place like this was hard enough. He didn’t want to ruin that by announcing it to the world. 

Desperate to change the subject, he said, “Thanks for finding this. I didn’t know it was even here.” 

“I didn’t either,” Sarah admitted, deciding they may as well enjoy the upgrade and sat down on the sofa. It was plush microfiber - incredibly soft to the touch - and very comfortable. It wasn’t like she was going to demand they go back to the standard seats she’d booked.

“How did you find it, then?” he asked, sitting next to her. 

“I overheard someone talking about it on the train and looked it up. It looked cool, so here we are.” 

He smiled at her, and her heart did a karate kick into her lungs. She sucked in a deep breath. 

They made their way to the bar to order dinner and drinks. Everything was on theme, including Sarah’s cocktail that came out glowing bright blue with smoke billowing off the surface. She laughed, looking truly delighted with it. It made Quinn want to kiss her. Not that he hadn’t been thinking about that since they’d met, but something about the pure joy in her face when the bartender handed it over made the impulse even stronger. 

The problem, she soon discovered, with the couch arrangement was the fact that their food and drinks ended up on the end tables - on opposite sides of the couch, making it nearly impossible to eat and have a conversation the way she wanted to. 

After turning around for her drink for the third time, she let out a frustrated sigh. “Here, will you hold this?” she asked, handing him her glass. 

Quinn accepted it and watched as she put her plate on the table, and moved it in front of the couch. She then tucked herself around it, and sat facing him, with one of her legs bent at the knee between them. 

“At least for now,” she said, taking her drink back and setting it on the relocated table. 

Quinn smiled. He never would have moved that table - too afraid to upset someone. He admired Sarah’s willingness to solve the issue at hand. 

Her drink was still smoking when he set his beer bottle next to it. She'd let out the most adorable giggle with the first sip, scrunching her nose at the feel of the smoke. 

“So, what made you choose Vancouver?” he asked, “I’m sure there are places in the States where you can study Marine Zoology.” 

She was instantly impressed that he remembered her degree. Most people got the marine part right, but assumed she was a biologist.  

“That’s kind of a long, complicated story, but basically, my mom died a year and a half ago and -” 

He cut in, “I’m sorry, Sarah.” 

“Thank you,” she gave him a sad smile. 

“Anyway, there’s a little more to it, but I ended up here because my uncle lives here. I wanted to study the ocean, but I had to be close to family, and the only family I had close to the ocean was here, so that kind of made my decision for me.”

Bracing herself for sympathy, she looked into his eyes, only to find a more open, understanding expression on his handsome face. “That sucks about your mom. My dad lost his mom when I was like two, and he still talks about how hard it was. I know it was really devastating for him. I can't imagine how it felt for you." 

She was so young - too young. She’d been his age. Even considering how long he'd been living away from his parents, it would be awful to lose his mom. She was the person he called for almost everything.

Tears pricked at her lower lashes. She blinked them away, busying herself with her drink to shut down that topic of conversation. 

He laughed when her nose scrunched up again. 

“I promise it’s really good,” she said, giggling, “the smoke just tickles.” 

“Sure,” he teased, then added, "it's actually really cute."

Her gaze caught on the amused set of his mouth, and lingered there for a beat too long. Tearing her eyes away, she asked, “what about you? Why Vancouver?” 

“Well, I was drafted here,” he said after swallowing his bite of salad. 

“So you didn’t have a choice?” 

“Yes and no. I toured and interviewed with a lot of clubs, and I liked it here along with a few other places. They knew how I felt, so they knew it would probably be a good fit. But the draft is always kind of a gamble. My brothers both went to New Jersey, which is pretty unheard of.” 

“Your brothers play hockey too?” 

He nodded. 

“How many of you are there?” 

“Just the three of us,” he said, “and a whole mess of cousins. What about you?” 

“I have an older sister and an older brother. They still live in Nevada, and they both have a bunch of kids. My brother married my sister's best friend, so they’re all really, really close.” 

She said it with a kind of sadness that Quinn knew well: a specific feeling that stemmed from your siblings being together while you were apart. Even though everyone was doing good things, it was still lonely to be the odd man out. 

“I get that,” he said. “My brothers live together in Jersey, and my grandad’s there too, so I feel pretty separate sometimes.”

It was strange to Sarah how much they had in common. Both from families of three siblings, both in Vancouver because of a mix of circumstance and choice, both understood familial loss to at least some extent. She had never met a man like him. 

The bartender announced the movie would start in 5 minutes. 

“I’m going to use the restroom,” she said. “Do you need anything on my way back?”

He shook his head. 

When she came back to their little corner of the theater, she found a refreshed drink on the end table. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

“Of course.” 

The movie started and it was instantly calming to her. Being there with Quinn felt like a special treat, like something out of a daydream.

When she lay her hand, palm up, in the small bit of love seat between them, Quinn was quick to pick it up, entwining their fingers. It felt a bit like he was fourteen again, just excited to hold a girl’s hand. He wanted to touch her all the time, but knew they weren’t there yet. He couldn’t wait to get to the point in the relationship when he could rest his hand on her thigh, or put an arm around her shoulders without it being a big deal. It felt so close, he could almost taste it. 

Leaning progressively closer throughout the movie, Quinn finally put his arm around her. He had to stop himself from celebrating when she rested her head on his shoulder. 

When the movie started winding down, Quinn began to wonder how exactly the end of the night was going to go. He wanted to kiss her so badly, but he didn’t want to do that in the theater or the foyer, where prying eyes and cell phone cameras were in abundance. Maybe he could ask her if they could walk to his car so he could kiss her there? Or maybe he could take her to her building's parking garage? Every way he thought about asking her sounded fucking creepy.

He was still caught in that internal debate when the movie ended and the house lights went up. How was he going to do this? He could just come out and tell her, but it made him sound paranoid and more than a little full of himself. 

“Could you walk me to the train station?” she asked, effectively ending his internal argument. 

He bit back the suggestion that he could just drive her home. “Yeah. Sure, of course,” he said. Maybe there would be a dim corner he could tuck them into and kiss her. 

The night air was cool, and humid when they stepped outside. Heart pounding, Sarah hoped he couldn’t feel it through their clasped hands. 

“You’ll have to lead the way,” he said. “I don’t really take the train.”

“No?” 

“Too many people.” 

While holding his hand was nice, Sarah’s mouth had felt empty with yearning all night. A deep longing to kiss him had been purring in her chest for over a week now, and seeing him made it rumble even louder. From the way she caught him glancing at her mouth throughout the night, it seemed like he felt the same way. 

There was a small, clean alleyway she’d spotted on her walk to the theater. As they passed it, she tugged him off the sidewalk, turned around so she could slide one hand over the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. 

Quinn sucked in a sort of shocked breath at her forwardness. 

She pulled away just as he was registering what was happening and sinking into the kiss. 

Taking her hands back, a blush searing her cheeks, she said, “I’m sorry, that was really presumptuous of me.” Hoping she hadn't just ruined everything, She tried to not feel rejected. Had she been reading the signs wrong? 

“No,” Quinn said, his voice a little too loud. 

It was so strange to him that their physical connection, which had always been the easiest part of his past relationships, seemed to be the only thing they fumbled over. 

He cleared his throat, and slipped his hand up to cup her jaw, "no. I was just a little surprised.” 

Seeing the longing in his face when she looked into his eyes kicked hers back into gear, ready to squeal off the pavement. 

Leaning in closer, his breath caressed her lips as he whispered, “I’ve been thinking about this all week.” 

A shiver raced down her spine at his confession. “Me too." 

Pulling back just slightly, he looked into her face. It felt like he was standing at the edge of the most beautiful view he'd ever seen. He couldn't wait to jump over it. 

She tipped up, and he leaned down, and when their lips met, a gentle sigh passed between them. 

There was no awkwardness, no questioning of who would tip which way, or if it was too soon for tongue. No, Sarah just took advantage between kisses, and swept her tongue into his open mouth. He responded in kind, sliding his tongue along hers. 

Her hands found their way into his hair in an attempt to pull him closer. The soft noise he gasped into her mouth made her fingertips tingle with a heady sense of satisfaction. Molten desire dripped into her veins.

Quinn let all his other thoughts fall away in favor of savoring this moment. He wanted to commit every second of it to memory. She tasted like the tart syrup used in her cocktail, and the smooth sweetness of the rum. Coupled with the vanilla, woodsy scent of her perfume, and her soft, skilled tongue, it was the most intoxicating thing he'd ever experienced. He never wanted to stop. 

The world fell away. 

Then, it came crashing back. 

"Get a room!" someone yelled from the group of teenagers walking by. 

He pulled away, just enough that he could feel her panting breaths rushing over his lips. He didn't want to let the moment slip away. Not when it had been so perfect. 

"Can I make you dinner on Saturday?" he asked, still feeling a little breathless.

She paused, and he realized what he'd just implied. God, he wasn't thinking straight. 

Pulling back, he rushed to explain, "I can bring it with me to a park or something. I just want to see you again." 

A smile broke over her face, "I want to see you again, too." 

Simple, straight to the point. Quinn felt some of his anxiety drop away. 

"I'll think about where, but definitely yes to dinner." 

He beamed. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[misshoneyimhome]

250 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

"Why can't you just do what you're being told?" I William Nylander

Summary; Sometimes, a push can make all the difference, even within the realm of relationships.

Tropes & warnings; smut 18+, friends-with-benefits, friends to lovers, fighting to sex (is that a thing?); mention of masturbation, unprotected sex (p in v), spanking, more unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving);

Other notes; This one's for you, styles217, my love.🤍 Although it didn't end up as angsty as I'd envisioned 🙈, I hope you still enjoy it 🤞🏼 Surprisingly though, it ended up containing more smut than I initially planned, thanks to the requests I chose to combine it with [“take it out on me” I “I will never get enough of you” 🔥] - And no, I don’t actually think anyone on the coaching team would say something like this, and I’ve got no idea if anyone on the internet would react in such way; but for the plot of the story, they did 🤍 Knock on wood for not jinxing the winning streak ✊

Word count; 4.1K

➼｡ﾟ

It had been quite a week. The Leafs had been on the road for a week, still keeping up their winning streak, which exceeded everyone's expectations. But even from the comfort of your sofa, you could sense that the games were getting more intense.

It was becoming clearer that the playoffs were getting closer. And suddenly, you noticed new aspects of your beloved William Nylander.

_

William had always been a talented ice hockey player. He might as well have been born with skates on his feet because the ice rink was his natural habitat. At just 16 years old, hockey became his first real profession, following in his father’s footsteps with aspirations of greatness.

And now, with his latest eight-year contract extension playing for the Maple Leafs, he was having the best season of his career.

Watching him play was almost magical - Every goal he scored or assist he made showcased his deep passion for the sport. And to you, he was simply an incredible person. 

Despite the challenges that came with the fast-paced lifestyle, being part of William’s world felt nothing short of amazing. Over the past six months, the two of you had developed some sort of a bond, and there was nothing else you would have traded it for.

William Nylander had stolen your mind and soul from the moment he walked into the quaint coffee shop one early Wednesday morning before a training session. As he was completely exhausted and absent-minded, he inadvertently reached for something that appeared to be his drink, however as it turned out it was your coffee. With a gentle laugh and a charming smile, you kindly asked the handsome hockey player not to take it and encouraged him to enjoy his own instead.

Which then had turned out to be great a conversation starter, leading to a casual dating slash sort of a friends-with-benefits arrangement. Nothing too intense, just two consenting young adults enjoying each other's company, indulging in mind blowing sex, and relishing in easygoing conversations and hangouts.

However, perfection is elusive. Despite William's charm, kindness, and humour, he had a temper. Which you had only glimpsed bits of before, with penalties and a few snappy comments after tough losses.

But what happened during the Coyotes match was on another level.

William didn’t just receive penalties, but he suddenly also reacted aggressively to the pushes he usually shrugged off. He pushed back forcefully, his eyes blazing with anger.

And to your surprise, you found it incredibly arousing. Your cunt even tingled as William pushed the Coyote player, and a scuffle broke out among other players.

Never before had a hockey match stirred such arousal in you. And to top it off, the Leafs emerged victorious.

That night, thoughts of William's roughness lingered, leading you to touch yourself, and reaching an orgasm in a way you hadn't experienced before. The sheets beneath you were soaked as you moaned William's name into the emptiness with a whimper.

_

The game against Arizona was then followed by another impressive win, this time against the Knights, and then furthermore; a victory over the Avalanches after three thrilling periods, bringing the road trip to a satisfying conclusion.

Yet, as entertaining as it was to follow William and the team, it paled in comparison to being back in Toronto with him, where you could finally be intimate again.

And already Sunday afternoon you found yourself back at his place after he had a lie-in and taken care of the dogs. Entangled on his ample couch, his lips passionately locked with yours as your tongues explored each other with every shared breath.

With William on top of you, your fingers entwined in his blonde locks as he moved his warm mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking and nipping, eliciting sweet noises from you.

He was insatiable. After a week of being apart, William craved the feeling of you wrapped around him, longing to reach his own release in the midst of passion.

Clothes littered the floor of the living room, and despite the TV show still playing in the background, your moans filled the space of his condo. His two doodles lounged in a basket nearby as William guided his hard, throbbing member to your tight entrance.

Feeling William's hands on you again was nothing short of amazing. His mouth expertly melded with yours as his cock stretched you, sending waves of pleasure through your body with every thrust.

It was intense and messy. Bodies slick with sweat as you passionately connected on the sofa. His movements were determined, rough, and primal as he straightened his position, one leg on the floor, the other knee on the cushion, holding one of your legs against his chest while the other wrapped around his waist, thrusting mercilessly into you.

Your hands eagerly searched for something to grip onto, settling on the pillow behind your head as your mind blurred and your body melted for him.

You moaned loudly, the sounds mixing with the TV as you reached the peak of orgasm. But William didn't let you rest for a moment. Instead, he increased his intensity, feeling himself nearing the edge as your muscles tightened around him. And with heavy breaths, he thrust vigorously until he reached his climax, releasing his cum into you.

The intensity of the moment was palpable as you both took a few minutes to come down from the high and regain control of your breathing. It was a prime example of how raw and amazing your sex could be – effortless yet dirty, filled with desire.

And what came after was even better: William's tenderness as he caressed your curves in the post-sex shower was almost romantic. The way he caressed every inch of your skin was incredibly arousing, washing away the remnants of your sofa session. And then, he kneeled before you, placing hungry kisses on your core.

It was an added treat he provided, indulging in a late-night snack before you settled in for the night, knowing that Monday morning and the workday would soon be upon you.

_

It was another day of facing adult responsibilities at work, with the excitement of hockey on hold until reuniting with William in the afternoon.

However, while your day passed uneventfully, William found himself stirred by something deeper. His recent behaviour during matches hadn't gone unnoticed, and while fights were often accepted in the sport, comments about William being 'out of character' emerged.

Social media buzzed with opinions about him; criticising his usual calm demeanour, suggesting it wasn't present to support the team during heated moments, and deeming his actions as outrageous.

Which ignited William's temper. Despite his stellar performance in recent games – scoring goals and providing assists – he felt unjustly criticised. And more over it seemed that every attempt to express confidence in his own game was met with accusations of selfishness and 'overconfidence'.

It simply seemed William couldn't strike a balance. If he didn't score goals, he was deemed a bad player. If he didn't assist but scored himself, he wasn't seen as a team player. And if he didn't contribute at all, he was deemed unworthy of the team. He was often labeled as the attractive star player, good at scoring goals, but not as exceptional as Auston Matthews or as dominant as other players like Rielly, Reaves, and Tavares.

'Nylander’s a talented player, but he only cares about scoring for himself.'

‘Great to see WN88 take on some responsibilities when wearing the A – but he’s nothing like MR44’

The power of public opinion could be harsh.

Though most of the time, William didn’t even pay much attention to the criticism, knowing he was a great player, and his confidence remained unshaken. But often when he tried to brush off the comments and act nonchalant, it only fuelled speculation about his carelessness.

And, for some unexpected reason, he found himself unable to contain his temper on that particular Monday. Tired of the negative remarks, he wanted to prove that he could be just as strong and skilled as anyone else.

So, during Monday’s ice training, he attempted to assert his dominance. But things didn't go entirely as planned. Although the comments from the assistant coaches might not have been intended to be negative, they still managed to pierce through his thick skin.

"Hey Willy, we all know you did great as an alternate captain in Mo’s absence. However, maybe focus more on your scoring, passing to Auston, and breakaways – you know, the things you’re great at."

William simply nodded in response to the coaching staff's encouragement. But as they all left the locker room, he still couldn't shake off the words entirely.

"Hey," you greeted him with a warm smile in the hallway, joining the other partners of the team. "Want to go out for dinner?"

"Sure," he responded tersely, his tone devoid of your enthusiasm. "Just go wait by the car, I’ll be right there."

His voice was low and cold, but as his confidant, you resolved to show your support and be there for him.

"That's alright, I'll just wait here until you're ready," you replied, offering a reassuring smile.

"Just go and wait by the car," he suddenly snapped, his words sharper than before.

“What did you just say?” 

“Go wait by the fucking car.”

"Oh no... You don’t get to talk to me like that, Willy..." you retorted, your voice firm and steady. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just... I'll meet you outside."

"No, I'm not leaving until you talk nicely to me!"

"Why can't you just do what you're being told?" William shouted, his voice echoing through the hallway. 

You were taken aback. William had never shouted at you, especially not in public like this. While your relationship wasn’t without its disagreements, it had never escalated to this level.

But you held his gaze firmly as the others dispersed, the tension between you palpable. 

There was a silence that hung heavy in the air. A moment where every thing could fall apart if you let it. But instead you decided to take the battle elsewhere.

"Fine," you finally spat, before turning and walking towards the exit.

And needless to say, the ride back to William’s place was dead silent, broken only when William left the car to pick up your takeaway dinner, opting not to go out. And when he returned, he slammed the door shut, and the journey to his place remained eerily quiet.

You felt his frustration emanating from him as you entered the condo, and as you placed the bags of food on the kitchen counter, you decided you couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Willy... do you have any idea how humiliating that was?" you said with a steady voice, trying to catch his gaze, but he remained hunched over the counter, looking down.

"So what?" he replied curtly.

You let out a small sigh. "So what?... Willy, I'm not a toy you can play with however you like... I'm a person with feelings."

"Don't you think I have feelings too?" he suddenly erupted, standing up straight and taking a step towards you. "Don't you think I feel frustrated and annoyed? That I'm not this perfectly calm and chill guy everyone always wants me to be?"

"So, you're upset because you're a talented hockey player, but not perfect in every way?" you asked a hint of rhetoric in your tone, raising a brow. "Willy, nobody's perfect, and nobody can live up to everyone's expectations."

"Don't you think I know that! But it still doesn’t make the frustrations go away, y/n... not that you would know how it feels to just want to... let go!"

And you suddenly found yourself releasing a breath you hadn't realised you'd been holding. William's words were sharp and filled with tension, fuelled by his passion for the sport. And strangely, you felt the same arousal you had felt the night you witnessed his anger for the first time.

"Take it out on me," you spoke softly, still maintaining a firm tone as you extended the invitation.

"What?" William inquired, taken aback by your bold offer.

"Take your frustrations out on me, Willy... let go, be angry... do what you need to do..."

For a moment, he couldn't comprehend what you were suggesting. His mind raced with thoughts, but as his eyes met yours, a sudden surge of desire and lust overwhelmed him. The offer was too tempting to resist. And without hesitation, he closed the gap between you, fuelled by a primal urge.

His lips almost crashed onto yours, his hands gripping your head tightly as he held you close. Your breath was stolen as he forcefully slid his tongue into your mouth, exploring your warmth with intensity, pressing his body against yours.

Your hands instinctively found his neck, but they couldn't stay still as William, using his size to his advantage, guided you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. Clothes were shed along the way, leaving a trail of passion in their wake.

The intensity was so overwhelming that you barely registered how quickly you ended up standing by the bed, clad only in your lacy thong, as William's mouth continued to ravage yours until he breathlessly stepped back.

"On your hands and knees," his voice commanded roughly, his breath heavy and his eyes filled with lust.

And feeling your cunt already pulsating merely from the sound of his voice, you removed your last piece of fabric, and obeyed without hesitation.

William couldn't help but smirk as he admired the sight of your exposed cheeks before him. And as he lowered his boxers, freeing his hard cock, he slowly joined you on the mattress, kneeling behind you as he let his hands explore your soft skin.

"So you want me to let go, baby," he spoke darkly from behind, his mind clouded with thoughts of what he wanted to do to you. “I’ll fucking let go.”

And by encouragement form you, be withdrew his large hand from your ass, intensely stared at your ass before delivering a hard slap against your skin.

"Oh fuck..." you cried out, feeling the sting of his spank.

"You liked that, huh?" William inquired darkly, and all you could do was nod, earning another hard spank.

His force was harsh. Harder than you’d ever been playfully spanked before, and you could tell he was releasing some negative energy with two more intense smacks. His breath heavy and deep but his fifth and last spank, which had beautifully decorated your skin with a red hue.

And as you let out a soft cry mixed with a pleasure-filled moan, William felt satisfied with his actions. Shifting slightly in his position, he teased the tip of his cock against your entrance.

"Do you think you deserve this?" he asked, his voice filled with desire. “You think you deserve to be fucked?”

You could feel nothing but your muscles pulsating between your legs, yearning to be filled by his length.

"Yes," you whimpered, your legs trembling with anticipation.

"Good girl..." 

And with a forceful thrust, William slammed his cock into you, burying himself deep inside your cunt and hitting your very depths.

His hands gripped your waist firmly as he established a steady rhythm of forceful thrusts, channeling all his frustration and annoyance into each powerful movement. With every slam, he felt himself releasing the pent-up tension, letting go of the negativity that had been weighing on him.

It was almost too overwhelming for you. His vigorous thrusts caused your body to tremble, pushing you closer to orgasm much quicker than anticipated as he pounded and overstimulated your walls.

Usually it’d take more than just forceful penetrating sex like this to give you that pleasurable high, however with William’s merciless performance, you suddenly found yourself nearing a peak. 

And as if you had no control over yourself, your moans grew louder with each collision of skin against skin, and soon you found yourself clutching onto the sheets beneath you.

"Willy," you breathed, your voice filled with need. "I'm gonna come..."

Your words were music to his ears, mingling with moans and cries as he revelled in the pleasure he was giving you. And with no intention of slowing down, he continued to fuck you hard and fast.

"Oh fuck... Willy..." you cried out, your cunt dripping with juices as you threw your head back and allowed yourself to reach the peak of ecstasy, waves of climax rushing over your body.

William could feel how your walls clenched tightly around him as you embraced your orgasm, relishing in the sight of you closing your eyes in ecstasy and feeling your body shake and surrender to him.

And though as much as he wanted to continue fucking you hard and bring you to multiple orgasms, he also felt the urgency for his own release.

So, he paused his movements, allowing you to come down from the euphoria and catch your breath, before gently withdrawing his length from your dripping core. It was a sight to behold, seeing how perfectly your heat fit him, reflecting the pleasure he had given you.

But for now, he desired something else from you.

"I want you on your knees, baby, on the floor," his husky voice commanded, and with a deep breath, you summoned the strength to move your body.

Despite your legs feeling like jelly beneath you, you managed to manoeuvre from the bed to the middle of the room, where you flashed William a confident smirk as you knelt before him. You knew exactly what he wanted, and you were more than willing to give it to him.

Then patiently waiting for him to draw closer, you glanced up at him with desire in your eyes, parting your lips slightly as he approached. You yearned to taste him, to feel his hardness against your tongue, and even to savor your own essence.

And William happily gave it to you.

Holding his cock before your mouth, he gazed intensely down at you, silently granting you permission to take him.

Without hesitation, you accepted. Wrapping your lips around the tip, you began by circling it with your tongue. Then taking a deep breath through your nose, you focused on relaxing the back of your throat, guiding him in slowly and effortlessly. You felt him reach the back of your mouth, but you allowed him to push in further.

Gently withdrawing your head slightly, you coated his shaft with your saliva before taking him in entirely once again. And while taking your time, you savoured the sensation before starting to move your head in rhythmic motions, bobbing up and down on his length. Your lips wrapped around him as you moved, using your dominant hand where your mouth couldn't reach.

William's fingers found the back of your hair, gently gripping it as he began to let his hips move in sync with your motions. And as the pleasurable sensations intensified, so did his actions.

You allowed him to take control, something you wouldn't normally do as you needed to manage your gag reflex and breathing. But tonight was William's night to let loose, which meant allowing him to guide his cock in and out of your mouth.

And while feeling his grip tighten in your hair, you managed to glance up at him through your lashes and saw how he tilted his head back, surrendering to the moment.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he mumbled between moans.

Knowing exactly how to push him over the edge, you released your hand from around the base of his cock and placed both palms on his muscular thighs. Taking another deep breath, you prepared yourself as best you could before letting him push his shaft all the way into your throat, causing your nose to brush against his pubic hair. Holding still for a few seconds, you allowed yourself to gag around his cock before pulling off completely and gasping for air.

"Oh shit! Fuck, babe," William panted above you as you stroked his length. "That's fucking hot."

And you knew it was. William had often expressed his love for your blowjobs, and sometimes hinted at his desire for more dominant behaviour. While he had never actually choked you with his cock, he had shown some interest, which was how you knew he would enjoy how you forced him all the way down.

Then taking another breath, you placed both hands on his thighs once more and took him back into your mouth. And this time, William wanted nothing more than to come for you. Knowing how good you could be for him, he held onto you firmly, meeting your eyes as he thrust against your mouth.

It was forceful and dominant, as he relished every gagging noise you made. And as he fucked your mouth faster, he felt himself on the brink of climax.

"Oh yes, baby, that’s it! Oh, I'll never get enough of you," he moaned, his eyes shutting tightly. "Your mouth is so fucking..." But his words were cut off by a deep grunt as his climax took over, and he unleashed his load into your warmth.

You felt his muscles tense under your touch, your nails digging into them as he held his cock in your mouth, ensuring you received every single drop he had to offer.

Both of you remained still for a brief moment as William came down from his high, and holding back your instincts, you gazed up at him as you waited for his approval.

Slowly, he pulled himself out of your mouth, allowing you to taste every inch of his shaft. And locking eyes with you once more, he issued his final command.

"Swallow."

With a gulp, you let his raw cum slide down your throat, before releasing a light sensual gasp. It was nothing but an intense moment of sexual silence as you stared up at the man before you.

"Shit, baby, you're way too good at this," his dark words praised, and slowly he helped you to your feet.

"Did I at least help you with the frustrations?" you chuckled lightly.

"Oh, yes, you did," William replied, flashing you a great smile before pulling you into a cuddle. "How about a shower?"

"How about we heat up dinner?" you suggested with a laugh.

"Good idea - but shower first."

It felt as if all the tension had dissipated, as if there were no lingering issues anymore. Yet, a part of you remained uncertain about the true nature of your relationship with William.

As you enjoyed a later dinner after the post-sex shower, smiles gracing both of your faces, you couldn't help but ponder what was going on inside William's mind.

However, as you cuddled up, feeling satisfied in every aspect, he beat you to the conversation.

"Hey... thanks for... you know, today," he started softly, his thumb caressing your shoulder as his arms enveloped you, turning his head to face you.

"Of course, it's what I'm here for," you replied with a content smile.

"Yeah, I know, it's just..." he continued softly, struggling to articulate his thoughts. "You don't have to... let me do that... you could’ve just walked away after what happened at the rink."

"I know, but I didn’t want to walk away... Willy, I know I'm not exactly your girlfriend or anything, but whatever this is, to me, it's something..."

"Exactly... and I guess I just... I don't know how to say it, but I just feel like there might be more... you're so amazing, and I just really want you around, all the time... and I understand if that's not what you want, because it's not always easy with me, but... if you want to, I'd like to have you..."

His last words almost came out in slow motion, uncertainty evident in how he expressed his feelings.

"Willy, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Yeah... I think I am."

You were slightly taken aback by his question. Despite being intimate and spending a lot of time together for months, you didn't think William was considering this direction. On the contrary actually, you had been nervous he wanted to end it because of the increasing intensity of the season.

"Yes, Willy... of course I'd want to be your girlfriend," you finally managed to speak, the words carrying a mix of joy and relief. "Babe, I was honestly afraid you'd had enough of me...."

It was a moment you had both anticipated and feared, but now that it was here, it felt nothing but right. Leaning in, you sealed your answer with a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of your commitment to each other.

William's eyes sparkled with happiness as he returned the kiss, his arms pulling you closer. It was a moment of clarity amidst the chaos of life, a moment where everything just felt right.

"Oh, I already told you; I'll never get enough of you," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. 

[laurentidal]

Ice Core Report ❄️ August 2024

Decided to do a little editorial check in at the end of each month. Most of you probably don't know that, while Lauren is my real first name, that my blog is actually named for a massive ice sheet that once lay over the place where I live (the Laurentide Ice Sheet). Thus, this is a report from my ice core.

#1 Story: Suggestion Box

This one was a huge surprise for me. It took off immediately, and I had not seen that coming. I'd had this image saved in my "had potential" folder for probably three weeks before I decided on how to tell the story. It went through an iteration where this was an ice skating rink, then it was a sandwich shop. I think one draft had a "five dollar footlong" joke in it. But ultimately I liked "arcade" the best.

#2 Story: Enjoy Your Stay

This was based on fun joking conversation I had with @hypno-potion and as the scaffolding we were joking about kept getting more elaborate I was like "No there is definitely something here." I'm glad you all agreed.

#3 Story: Kitty Pet Saga

I saw this picture and immediately knew what the story was going to be. Sometimes I see an image and think "There's something here if I look hard enough" and sometimes I see an image and a fully formed idea just jumps right out of it.

#4 Story: Oh My

This is a story I actually wrote quite some time ago for an old defunct website that never really got any foot traffic. I'm glad I brought it over, because it's one of my personal favorites. The only fauxcest story in the top five this month. That's one of those kinks I think I'm just going to have to accept that you guys aren't as into as I am (and I have the data to validate that claim).

#5 Story: Daughters and Suns

The only true repost from my old blog and the only part of a series in the top five this month. This series is my favorite thing I'm writing right now (though this entry isn't my favorite in the series). There's a lot more coming so I hope you're enjoying as much as I am.

Sunda Systems

We're half way through Season 1 of my Sunda Systems investigative mind control conspiracy story. Our investigator has made several contacts and visited the campus first-hand. She also might be starting to feel some effects from her various encounters, and her keen eye for detail is missing a few clues that are staring her right in the face. But I'm sure the date she's got lined up will give her some much needed relaxation.

Please please please share this story and feel free to get interactive with it! I've put some real effort into it and I've never written such a slow burn before. I'm enjoying the ride, and I've got some GOOD (I think) twists and turns coming. I think this format could be fun to play around with as an audience. Post your theories! I love seeing that folks are engaging with more than just the like button.

Update of Magics & Mesmerism

Some of you are aware that I'm working on an erotic mind control TTRPG called Magics & Mesmerism. I'm still plugging away. As we speak, I'm writing skills for the Innovator character class. As a treat, I'd like to share with you an except from the page on Hypnotic Foci:

General Thoughts

Every story in the top five this month is a FEMALE SUB story. Noted. I tend to favor that in my writing, too, which is interesting because I think Female Over Male stories are hotter, probably because of the subversion of expectations. I'm a slut for subversion of expectations.

I think that's everything. Love you all and I'm very excited for you to see what's coming in September. One of my favorites that I wrote comes out tomorrow, and on the 13th you'll be introduced to your first Force of Nature.

Till then, keep reading, keep messaging, keep asking, and if you're feeling generous, keep donating.

[yuzurujenn]

[2024.07.03] Figure Skating Magazine 2023-2024 (BBMOOK 1649) - YUZURU HANYU INTERVIEW

Interview: Accepting the support of his fans. I felt like I could rely on him.

-It's been a long time! As you know, Figure Skate Magazine's editorial mission is to conduct interviews on behalf of its readers, so please be prepared to do the same when you answer, Hanyu-san. But please relax and speak as you normally would. Thank you.

Hanyu: Yes, please!

-There's still Fantasy on Ice left that starts in late May, but you're approaching two full seasons as a professional. How does it feel to have been a professional for almost two solid years now?

Hanyu: Well, this… If you ask me "Are you happy?", I would say that just being happy is definitely not enough. This has not changed since the competitive period. In the end, I couldn't just "enjoy the competition". I have always, how should I put it… I think I said in an interview that "I can't be happy if I can't win." In a sense, competition is "betting your life", and various things in life will change depending on the outcome of the competition. So, in this sense, I have always skated with the idea of "betting my life in competitions" and thinking "this is not the time to enjoy myself". And this feeling has not changed in a sense. So, even though there is no longer a visible "ranking", for me, the "results" are now directly related to the feedback or evaluations from everyone, and they can be seen. It's just that the format has changed in a more rigorous world. I feel this deeply again now almost two years after I turned professional.

-Honestly, I wonder if you have also felt difficulties and hardships as a professional skater?

Hanyu: Well… First of all, purely because the number of programs has increased a lot, which is… It's quite hard work indeed. I have to think about how to train for it, and also if it gets easier… It's true that if I make things easier, including the jumps, I could do some easier performances, but if I do that, it'll get boring. Or the "range of performance" that the audience wants to feel will be lost. So, in terms of difficulty, such as the difficulty of jumps, or the program itself, how should I put it… the skating, transitions, rotations, including all these difficulties, how to achieve the ultimate in both performance and technique, I have been trying to find such a balance, which is really difficult.

-In your solo ice show, Hanyu-san has to perform for two and a half hours, or two hours and forty minutes.

Hanyu: Yes (laughs).

-Figure skating is a particularly hard sport on the feet, and those who have had experience with competitive skating will find that even skating for just one minute can be quite taxing. But Hanyu-san has to perform multiple programs in a row in a single public show, which is generally impossible, and I just simply want to ask, why do you do something so hard?

Hanyu: Hmm… why is that… just like when I did Prologue, I wasn't really sure whether everyone had expectations for it, but I think it must be because of "everyone's expectations of me" and "my expectations of myself" that I felt that I had to do it. So, I have standards like "generally impossible" or "generally should be done this way" in my mind, but if I just follow those standards, it will become "normal". I felt that this was not what I expected, and everyone who has been watching me until now, and everyone who has been following my activities since I turned pro, will also feel that "this is not what they want to see from Hanyu", I felt this while trying to do it… That's the feeling.

-Hanyu-san is 29 years old now, right?

Hanyu: Yes, 29. I will be 30 after this year (birthday).

-Perhaps the peak of physical strength is still ahead, but it's generally possible that by the time one reaches their 30s, maintaining physical strength becomes difficult. At that time, what is Hanyu-san going to do?

Hanyu: That's right, what should I do? (laughs). To put it bluntly, I'm full of questions myself. For example, when it comes to holding various events, I think it's necessary to plan a blueprint. I have a vague idea that I should be thinking about what I will be doing in the next one, two, three, and eventually five years. Generally speaking, it is very necessary. This is not only for figure skating as a "job", but also for consideration as a person. But I always feel that because I always complete every performance with such enthusiasm that I don't have time to think about these things. It doesn't feel right to perform with the idea that "I should reach this point in five years, so I am at this stage now accordingly".

-Can you explain this in more detail?

Hanyu: Well… This is just an example. Suppose I already have an idea of when I will feel that my physical strength will decline or that I will not be able to do a solo performance in the future when I am in my mid-to-late 30s or 40s. Then, we discuss and make a plan, and decide to do it “until here", so then we can decide to do this performance this time, and that performance next time according to this plan, and backtrack in order to present something good in the end at the point where we planned it. It's kind of like this. If I were to do a "reverse calculation", I would have to present a "carefully calculated" performance which… how can I put it… I feel that I wouldn't be able to do my max at every point in time. For example, if I think of it as a competition, four years feels like an Olympic cycle. If I want to go to the Olympics in four years and win a gold medal, I'd think about something like, "I'll do this the year after Sochi," "I'll do this in the second year," "I'll challenge myself a little bit in the third year, and then stabilise in the fourth year". I'd think about it like that, but it won’t work now. Now I am not thinking about "I can do this kind of thing at this age", instead I am performing with the passion of "I will have no regrets even if it ends here this time". When I feel the limit of this approach, or in the process of continuing to train my body, when I feel that "I can't keep it up anymore" or "It's only going to go downhill from here on out", even if I have just a little bit of this premonition, I probably won't skate anymore (laughs). I don't know when that moment will come, and it won't help no matter how much I think about it. But anyway, this is how I feel right now. However, if I think about it from a completely different perspective, if I put aside things like "solo performance", "quadruple jump", "quadruple and a half" and think about "physical performance", how should I put it… I feel that there are still many things I can do. As I grow older, there are many aspects that can become more profound. So, in this sense, I am looking forward to what I can do in the future and how I will perform and express myself.

-Has the position of "fans" changed in your heart?

Hanyu: Well… I do feel that the form of "support" has changed. To be honest, during the RE_PRAY tour from 2023 to 2024, I was also worried about "what should I do". I think there must be some fans who were also struggling, but when the tour ended, I found an answer that satisfied myself and thought, "Ah… So that's how it is." As a performer, as a professional performer, of course I am determined to inherit what I have worked hard for as an athlete, including techniques in the world of performance, and at the same time further evolve and develop them and continue to move forward as a professional. But as for "receiving support,” if it were in the past, for example, when I was ranked high, I would be praised "Great!”, and there would always be so-called "results" like this which could be evaluated as "good" or "bad,” so I could accept everyone's support relatively easily. For example, when I received support and got good results, I'd feel that "I have properly repaid the favour." I have been thinking this way since around 2011. Then, after Gift ended and I started to create and perform the new RE_PRAY, creating a story which I wanted to express as a "work", so how should I put it… For example, when you read a novel and enjoy it, wouldn't it be a bit strange to support the novelist? It's like saying "Please work hard to write a novel!" It feels like there’s something not quite right. When we listen to concerts or songs, we don't say to the singer "Please work hard to sing!" It feels a bit like this. I also hope that everyone can enjoy the performance itself. And in a sense, this is my struggle as a professional, um… I’ve also thought about whether I can make everyone enjoy the performance itself if I do it perfectly. These thoughts were always wavering in my heart. But like this time in RE_PRAY, when there was a difficult program such as "The Messenger of Destruction”, there were still many people willing to support me and hoping that I could complete the program successfully. For a moment, I felt this very strongly, and reflected on it in my heart, and gradually felt that "Ah… maybe I can accept the support too". So far, when I am in the world of performance, the world of my profession, or the world of my ICE STORY, no matter what, when I perform in ICE STORY, I still hope that everyone can appreciate the story and the work itself. To enjoy it well, hmm, how should I put it? Because it isn’t a competition, the feeling of "I hope everyone can enjoy the story itself" is very strong in my heart, but at the same time I’m also wondering, "Then is this not support?" But I started to think that I didn’t have to be stuck in that kind of framework. In other words, unlike singers and people who write stories, there is another category called “Yuzuru Hanyu ICE STORY,” which is both a place for appreciation and a place for support. And I’m a skater who receives that support and a performer at the same time, and I think that’s fine. It took some time to figure out how the way of support has changed and how I should accept the support, and I think I found the answer.

-You always train alone at the ice rink in your hometown Sendai, which often worries me. Don’t you feel discouraged?

Hanyu: I feel very overwhelmed, every time (laughs). After all, the practice time has increased, and in a sense, there is a lack of motivation. Because even when the brain is extremely tired, I have to think about the story and the choreography, but even in that state, I can't stop training. I want to escape, but I can't, and this situation keeps continue. If the physical condition is really good, there is no such feeling at all. I will feel, "Training is so fun!", "I completed this thing today!" or "I successfully did this kind of training today". There are certainly moments when I feel a sense of accomplishment like this. However, I’ll be lucky to have such good physical condition three times a month. Considering that, it is actually more of a struggle. So, I do often collapse (laughs), and there are more days where I feel "I don't want to do it today".

-Do you have times when you dwell in the memories of the competition? Or, do you often reminisce things from the competition?

Hanyu: Well, rather than saying that I "dwell" in the memories, it is better to say that I often "recall" them. Competitions also appear in my dreams. For example, I am almost late for the 6-mins practice, and I haven't changed my clothes yet, but I am still warming up slowly. The loudspeaker shouted that the 6-mins practice had started, but I hadn’t even put on my shoes (laughs). When I hurried to join in the 6-mins practice, I heard "1 minute left". I had such a dream recently. I still have such dreams now, and sometimes the scenes in them are replaced by ICE STORY. Of course, I will also think about "Ah, this competition felt like this" or "I had such feelings during this competition", and I often think about the daily routine at that time, and there are also many memories about what kind of training I did back then. Instead of saying that I am "dwelling" in the memories, it is better to say that it is because of these memories and experiences that the “present things" are born, and I cherish these ‘children’ (memories and experiences) very much. How should I put it, it's not a very negative or backward-looking thought, but more like I'm making use of these ‘children’. So, let's say there is a table called "now", and I am at this table. I often let things from the past to exist on it, not of their own accord, but of my own volition. Because of these ‘children’, these past experiences and memories, the "now" can be so fulfilling. That’s all.

-On the last day of RE_PRAY’s Yokohama performance, didn't you say "(The performance is about to end) It's really lonely…?” I feel like that was the first time that Hanyu-kun “showed himself” in front of people. You've been working on your own as a professional, and that's been hard for you at times, so I think it's okay for you to be a little spoiled in front of your fans every once in a while! Although the word "acting like a spoiled child" may be a bit inappropriate, it's not bad to have such moments in life, isn't it? I know how precious the connection between Hanyu Yuzuru and his fans is, and because of it you've been able to achieve so many things that can be called "miracles", I've witnessed them with my own eyes.

Hanyu: As I said earlier, the meaning of the word "support" has changed a lot this year, and at the same time, the people who came to watch were not just fans but also people who wanted to watch because of the game theme, and of course, people involved in the ice show too. However, when these people came to this place and occasion, although it was hard to say whether it could be considered "acting spoiled,” I did feel that "maybe I could rely on them a little bit…" or "maybe I could trust them completely".

-Are you referring to the fans here?

Hanyu: Yes. I’ve been skating for these people so far, wanting to convey the best I can, wanting to give back all the energy and emotion they've put into me, and I've always felt like I had to work hard for that. It's not that I don't have such thoughts now, but I didn't know how to accept that support before. But through this tour, I gradually figured it out and felt that "Maybe I could rely on their strength". I think I drew this clear line in my heart during this period.

-I see. It's great that Hanyu-kun's mood has cleared up! I saw you today after a long time, and I really feel like you’ve become a "man"!

Hanyu: Do you mean I have become calmer? (laughs). Well, for example, in the case of ‘Danny Boy’, some things will live on in the program, like ‘Haru yo, koi’ and ‘Hope & Legacy’, which require genderless movements, and a sense of lightness that is not limited by age, etc. I think that as I grow older and experience various things, it will broaden my range of expression, and the "tenderness", "softness", and "ethereality" that I'm good at becomes broader as well. It goes back to what I said at the beginning: what kind of performance will I perform in my late 30s when I have experienced various things, accumulated age and experience, and experienced the physical time of "years", how much emotion I want to convey, how deep such emotions will become, how much training I have done, and how deeply I have thought about "physical expression". This makes me look forward to it with anticipation. Training is indeed painful. There is a clear change before and after Saga. The quality of training itself, the mindset, and the actual length of training have changed a lot, and it is indeed tough because there’s so much to do. However, I also feel that this has allowed me to perform well, and putting on good performances means being able to make all the fans happy. For me, this is really one of the most important happiness, and it is precisely because I feel that I have been rewarded for my efforts here that I can continue to work hard. Well, there’s a show coming up (this interview was done a few days before Fantasy on Ice). I have emotions that I want to convey and things that I want everyone to feel at every moment through my performances. Everyone has their own experiences and memories, and I hope that watching my performance can ignite some emotions in everyone's hearts. I want to continue to work hard with this commitment.

Source: https://weibo.com/6473801248/OmbzigSpE

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Postscript to the interview with Yuzuru Hanyu

TRUE WORDS.

It's been a while since our last interview, and it was a solo one. Yuzuru Hanyu appeared before us in mid-May. Until now, there was always an air of tension around him. But on this day, for some reason, I didn't feel that at all. I don't know why. I don't know, but I have a feeling inside me that maybe… Text / Shinichi Yamaguchi Photo/ Ryosuke Menju

Oh, why is that?

Hanyu-kun.

At first, I didn't understand why I said that, even though it was my own words.

Up until now, I have called him "Hanyu-senshu" in interviews, and "Hanyu-san" after he became a professional skater. In fact, I’m sure I called him "Hanyu-san" in the first half of this interview. When writing the article, I wondered what I should do, but in the end, I decided to just go with "Hanyu-kun" from the middle of the article. I don't know the reason myself. But I think there was an atmosphere on that day that made me want to call him "Hanyu-kun.

July 2022. Less than a week after Hanyu became a professional, I was taken to the hospital. Two years have passed since then, but it is still difficult for me to travel far for interviews, and in fact, the interview in Sendai was also conducted remotely. Photographer Menju took some photos after the interview. After that, Hanyu-kun said, "Now I just have to go home," and we had a chat for a while. It just so happened… really, this chat was just recorded by chance, and although I wasn't sure what to do with it, I decided to share it with you, the readers, because I thought it was worth sharing. Perhaps Hanyu-san and his staff would allow me to do so.

-Hanyu-kun, thank you so much for today! It's been a long time since we last met. I feel like you have really grown into a mature man!

Hanyu: No, I haven't changed. I’m still the same inside (laughs). But I do feel like I’ve started thinking a lot more because I’m in a world where I have to express myself.

-It's been a long time since I interviewed you. When I got sick, I thought, "Maybe I won't be able to do this kind of interview anymore." I never dreamed that I would get sick.

Hanyu: You really never know what's going to happen. I, too, have been living on the edge of death…

-During RE_PRAY's Yokohama performance, Hanyu-kun said, "Life goes on as long as you don't stop," right? Oh, I thought he was saying it to me. No, that's an exaggeration to say that you were speaking to me, but "Hanyu Yuzuru's words are the truth." I really thought so.

Hanyu: For me, well…you know, there are wars, natural disasters, and people who die suddenly…

I heard that Hanyu-kun also experienced the death of someone close to him. During the tour, he was sometimes at a loss for words on the microphone, perhaps because he was thinking of that person.

Hanyu: I was just realising that again…. So, I don't want to waste it. There are so many people who have come to be involved with me this way. I want them to be happy, even if only for that moment.

It was time for Hanyu-kun to leave. He turned around and said, “Please keep up the great work. Let's do our best! Thank you very much,” before leaving.

He is a person who cannot lie. This is what I thought after interviewing Yuzuru Hanyu. That’s why he must have been hurt by the world's comments about what he is and what he is not, and by the things he has been told since he was young. But even though he was hurt, or rather, it was because of those experiences that Hanyu-kun was able to treat others so gently. That is how I feel now.

And to all the fans of Yuzuru Hanyu. His words are truly what he means from the bottom of his heart, they are true words.

I want to shout this out loud.

Source: B.B.MOOK 1649 magazine, pg 25

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PHOTO STORY: Yuzuru Hanyu SKATE & JOURNEY

Yuzuru Hanyu as a "young man"

May 17, 2024, Sendai City, Miyagi Prefecture Photo & Text/Ryosuke Menju

Give it a title, okay? At the request of Editor Y, I came up with a name that would suit the occasion, but what do you think? In order to bring a "fresh breeze" that is fitting for the season of fresh greenery to our readers, I went to Sendai in the early summer of 2024.

This is the first time that Figure Skating Magazine has a solo interview. Previously we had a media day in Toronto, Canada, but that was mainly a joint interview with other companies. But this is an opportunity for Y-san, the interviewer, and me, the photographer, to meet Hanyu-senshu "one-on-one".

I have to confess that I had been feeling restless for the two months prior to the interview. I was so nervous and tense that I didn't know what to do, even though I'm 50 years old.

In March, Y-san suggested that we try to apply for an interview with Hanyu-senshu. At first, I just wanted to give it a try and thought "What would the result be?", but unexpectedly, I received a reply from Hanyu’s side very quickly, saying "OK". The two months that followed were incredibly long.

On this day, I met Hanyu-senshu for the first time in a long time, and he showed up at the venue on time.

The Q&A session with Y-san started as normal, not so much at first, but gradually, as if to match his words, he began to show his typical Hanyu-like "gaze" and "expression." I think I was able to get the shots I had in mind, both during the interview and outdoors.

On this day, I felt that I captured the appearance of Yuzuru Hanyu as "a young man". The person in front of me was not Hanyu-senshu, but “a young man”. I can't describe it well, but there was definitely such a scene in my mind.

After the shoot, I decided to fulfill a promise I made to myself. I wanted to express my gratitude to Hanyu-senshu for all he has done for me.

As a sports photographer, my career can be divided into two stages: "before I met Yuzuru Hanyu" and "after I met Yuzuru Hanyu". How can I take cool photos of Hanyu-senshu? For this reason, I competed with other photographers and prepared harder than ever before competitions, and readers started giving feedback on the photos I took. All this was because I met Hanyu-senshu.

Above all, the "voices" of the fans were especially special to me. Fans would "give their opinions," "praise," and "call out" to me, a photographer, in various places. I was able to experience things I had never experienced before as a sports photographer by getting to know "Yuzuru Hanyu". So, on this day, thanking Hanyu-senshu was more important to me than taking pictures of him. (Editor Y: Please come to the staff room later, Menju-kun)

After all the photos were taken, I had a minute or two to put down the camera and chat. It was during this time that I expressed my gratitude to Hanyu-senshu, something I had been wanting to say but had never been able to do so.

Hanyu-senshu responded with a smile.

"No, no. Everyone is working so hard to take photos of me, I’m really grateful for that."

Anyway, it was a somewhat strange day. There was me talking to him without a camera, and there was Hanyu-senshu without his skates.

And, after all, there was Yuzuru Hanyu as a "young man". That's just how I feel now.

Source: B.B.MOOK 1649 magazine, pg 26

Info: https://www.bbm-japan.com/article/detail/52774?page=1

[roseharpermaxwell]

RWRB FirstPrince Everything Else Fic Recs

These are some canon divergence, some sad things, unique things. Click below to see the favorites I couldn't fit anywhere else, but needed to share.

Can't Help Falling by beck17. G, 1.2k. “Since New Years?”

Henry asks the question so quietly, Alex almost didn’t hear it.

An idea sparked from the subtle look Henry gave Alex after the latter told Zahra their relationship had been going on since New Years.

We're all the way up by @clottedcreamfudge. T, 1.4k. "Just making sure you don't try to run the moment I bring up a very specific topic," Pez says lightly, hopping up onto a low table and swinging his legs like a child.

"The topic of me loosening up and attempting to have a good time at a party?" Henry asks blandly, and Pez rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically.

"The topic of you quite clearly sneaking off with dearest Alexander, presumably to do things I must immediately hear about in excruciating detail. Spare no expense in the retelling; I want to feel it."

I can't breathe, if you're not there by softcinnamonroll. T, 2k. One moment, Alex was laughing at some joke Henry had made, and then the next there was a loud noise from the TV and the livestream cut out, leaving Alex alone in their dark living room. At first, Alex was sure there had just been a power cut, or some technical difficulties that caused the stream to cut out, but then the messages and BREAKING NEWS notifications started pouring in.

BREAKING NEWS: Explosion at Prince Henry of Wales Charity Event. Casualties Unknown.

You Must Allow Me To Tell You by @everwitch-magiks. T, 2.4k. “I don’t suppose there's any chance you’d like to marry me, Alex?”

Alex blinks. Then he starts to grin. “Right. Funny. What were you actually gonna say?”

“... I wasn’t making a joke.”

Alex waits for a beat — there’s gotta be a punchline here somewhere — but it doesn’t come. Henry is still watching him expectantly. He looks terrifyingly sincere.

“You’re actually serious?”

“Yes.”

“You’re proposing to me?”

“I am, yes.”

“But you don’t even know me.”

“Astute observation.” Henry tilts his head to the side. “I can’t help but notice that you have yet to decline?”

Henry has a proposal. Alex has trouble remembering why he shouldn't accept.

It's Always One Step Forward, And Three Steps Back. by @alxclightwood. G, 2.8k. He was fine, he didn’t need to sleep.

He blinked several times, desperately trying to force his eyes open. But it was inevitable that there would come a time his eyes drifted closed, and didn’t open again.

What he didn’t anticipate however, was his blood sugars dropping whilst he slept, with no alarm to wake him to fix it.

you took the time to memorize me (my fears, my hopes, my dreams) by @coffeecatsme. T, 2.9k. “I know what you’re doing.”

Alex crosses his arms, arching his brow. Henry, to his credit, looks completely unimpressed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” Alex wets his lips, enjoying Henry’s eyes following the movement, and lets a smile take over his face. He takes a step, closer to Henry, practically trapping him in front of the little coffeeshop.

“The ice skating,” Alex continues, taking another step, and he’s pretty much flush with Henry’s chest. Even though Henry tries to keep an impassive look, his eyes are glimmering under the afternoon light—he knows damn well what Alex is talking about. “The fire station. Indoor fucking skydiving.” He pokes Henry in the chest and grins. “You’re making my childhood dreams come true.”

Or, 4 times Henry makes Alex's childhood dreams come true, and 1 time he has to get creative.

Do we still have forever? by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf. M, 3k. Alex has a sudden, serious allergic reaction, and Henry can't help but think about losing him.

Powerless by floatingaway4. T, 3k. “Do you know what I’ve had to put up with in the last twelve hours?” 

Henry wants to point out that in that same twelve hours he’s had his body sliced open and an organ removed, but this doesn’t seem to be the time. He also got to sleep through his experience, while Alex was very much awake while dealing with Henry’s family. And Henry got the nice drugs, while Alex looks like he could use a drink.

hell was the journey but it brought me heaven by alec_rhee. E, 3.1k. While he was sitting in class and daydreaming about getting Henry naked the moment he got home, his phone vibrated wildly in his messenger bag. He heard the vibrations in class, and although his heart yearned for it to be Henry he knew it wouldn’t be him because his day was filled with meeting after meeting; the texts are most likely from Bug and Nora, he remembers thinking.

And well, he isn’t wrong. There are texts from June and Nora and none from Henry, but it’s the Google Alert –

BREAKING NEWS: PRINCE HENRY, BOYFRIEND OF FSOTUS ALEX CLAREMONT-DIAZ AND PRINCE OF WALES, INJURED IN CAR ACCIDENT

He reads the title of the article over and over and over again. He rubs his eyes and reads the title another three times.

This can’t be about my Henry, he thinks.

What I Need Tonight by @sparklepocalypse. E, 3.5k. It’s two in the morning on a Tuesday when the clatter of something hitting the bathroom floor startles Henry awake. At first, his groggy mind assumes it’s Alex – but then Alex snuffles in his sleep behind him and tightens his arms around Henry’s waist.

There’s another clatter, and then a shuffling noise, and Henry’s eyes widen. He reaches back and grabs Alex’s thigh, shaking him.

someday by rizcriz. T, 4k. “Where are you going?”

Henry freezes where he’s standing over his overnight bag, fingers still clasped around the tug on the zipper. His eyes slide closed of their own accord, dread pooling low in his gut. This was not how this was supposed to go. Alex is a deep sleeper, he should’ve been out the door and on a plane back to London long before he ever woke up. Not just for Henry’s sake, but for both of theirs.

This was not a conversation Henry wanted to have.

Or, Alex wakes up before Henry can sneak out.

i give you my heart (just to watch you waste it) by @villiageidiot. T, 4k. Henry moves to the U.S. when he’s ten years old. The very first time Alex finds him being picked on by some older students for sounding funny, everything changes. Alex shoves them to the ground, earns a detention, and becomes Henry’s best friend all in one fell swoop.

Well, they’re friends for Alex’s part.

For Henry, it’s always so much more.

(Five times fic wherein Alex never chooses Henry. Until he does.)

don't go where i can't follow by coffeecatsme. T, 4k. Henry turns away, hair silvery under the moonlight. He doesn’t even bother to look at Alex, and something like anger flashes in Alex’s gut when he sees him reach for his backpack, like it’s that easy to abandon Alex, like Alex didn’t bare his heart to him just a day ago. “You could’ve fucking said goodbye,” he whispers before he can think about it; his voice is quiet through the knot in his throat, yet it echoes in the room like a gunshot, stopping Henry in his tracks.

Alex wakes up at the lakehouse before Henry leaves.

All The Stars In The Sky by @absoluteaudacitywrites. T, 4k. Henry startles awake, blinking rapidly into the early morning gloom seeping into their bedroom and wondering hazily what woke him when two things become apparent.

One, Alex isn’t in bed with him.

Two, the sound coming from the bathroom is definitely what woke him and it is definitely Alex being quite violently sick.

you were more than just a short time by @hypnostheory. T, 4.2k. Alex leaves his mug on the porch railing. Inside the house is achingly hollow, an exhale with no inhale to follow. Alex feels like he can’t make a noise as he carefully pads back towards their bedroom. He pauses at their door, taking a steadying breath. He’s not as upset as he thought he’d be about this, having mentally prepared as the years ticked by and David grew older. Alex is okay.

Henry isn’t.

David the Beagle passes. Alex is there for Henry through his grief, and through the start of moving on

Tumbled Down and Tangled Up by @myheartalivewrites. E, 4.3k. “Yes, this is exactly how I always dreamed it would be. Locked in a cupboard with your elbow inside my rib cage,” Henry snipes. He sounds like he wants to punch Alex, which is probably the most Alex has ever liked him, so he follows an impulse and drives his elbow into Henry’s side, hard.

Henry lets out a muffled yelp, and the next thing Alex knows, he’s been yanked sideways by his shirt and Henry is halfway on top of him, pinning him down with one thigh. His head throbs where he’s clocked it against the linoleum floor, but he can feel his lips split into a smile.

nobody panic, but i've broken my leg by annesbonny. T, 5.2k. He collects his phone from Cash who's been holding onto his possessions, and shoots off a text to the group chat between pained breaths. nobody panic, but i’ve broken my leg. Then he slips it away again before he can read June's outraged response.

In which Alex Claremont Diaz breaks his leg at a charity Lacrosse game.

Ghosts by colorfulmoniker. M, 5.4k. After Henry leaves the lake house, Alex does not go after him. He doesn't storm Kensington in a fit of pique to call Henry an "obtuse fucking asshole." Instead, the pair spend nearly a year apart, both wrecked and miserable, until they find themselves on the list of speakers for an international conference.

baby, you were meant to follow me. by @chaa-kiao. T, 5.6k. “He doesn’t—” his breath hitches helplessly at the thought. “He doesn’t love me, June.” And, God, he’s fucking crying again.

The storm in his head rages on, his stomach sinking like a ship in its tide. Maybe Henry is exactly who Alex believes him to be: good and honest and true; maybe he’s perfect in every way Alex knows that he is and simply, plainly, doesn’t want him.

That's the worst possible answer to the questions that have become his entire being today. It sends another set of sobs hurling past his lips. The idea that all of this was real, Henry just doesn’t care that much, is sickening— debilitating— Alex doesn’t know how to face it.

Or: Henry and Alex never defined their relationship. Angst ensues.

simply, don't by rizcriz. T, 5.7k. The first voicemail notification sits in Henry’s inbox when he lands in London. He stares at it for a long while before quietly dismissing it and shoving his phone unceremoniously into his pocket. His phone feels like lead in his pocket the entire ride back to the palace, fingers itching to pull it out and just listen. But he’s stronger than that, isn’t he? He left, he got on the plane, he made it home without once looking back.

He had, though, contemplated the many steps it would take to turn around. Wondered if he could make it back with enough time to climb back into Alex’s bed and pretend none of this nightmare—the confession of love—had ever happened. But for every step he envisions himself taking back, three more lead him straight to Kensington Palace, because for whatever it is that he wants, there is only what he can have, and it is not a life with one Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz.

Or, Henry actually answers one of Alex's calls.

think I know where you belong (think I know it's with me) by coffeecatsme. T, 5.8k. “You got me a flower?” Henry gingerly uncurls Alex’s fingers and looks at it. Alex gulps and manages a nod.

“I know it’s not much—” he tries to say, but then Henry’s grinning and Alex quite forgets why he was so worried about in the first place. He finds himself mirroring the smile. “You like it?”

“I love it.”

Or, 5 times Alex is in love with Henry and 1 time Henry loves him back.

After Everything, I Must Confess I Need You by @mainstreamelectricalparade. T, 5.8k. “Fuck,” he gasps, tears springing to his eyes and mixing with the rainwater on his face. He’s not sure if the tears are from the asphalt biting into his palms, or if it’s a release of the emotions he’s been trying to shove down deep ever since he woke up to an empty top bunk at the lake house.

Wait. Asphalt.

Over the pounding rain, Alex hears the shrill sound of a horn honking, and looks up just in time to be blinded by a pair of headlights coming straight at him.

When Alex dares Henry to tell him to leave, Henry actually does. Neither of them could have predicted what happens next.

dearthisbe by @dani-dabbles. G, 6.6k. “If someone in this room had told me before the Queen,” he grits out, “then maybe I wouldn't be completely cut off from my boyfriend right now.”

Alex glowers at his mother and ignores the cowed looks of the various staffers lining the Oval Office. Two days of no contact. Not even a carrier pigeon - or a swan since the queen apparently has them all at their disposal - has been sent their way.

OR: the email plot is discovered before it can be leaked, the palace doesn’t handle the news of their relationship well, and Henry and Alex are left trying to find their way back to each other.

come and get me by rizcriz. T, 6.9k. The email arrives 8 days after Henry left the lake house. He contemplates deleting it without reading, but it sits in his Alex inbox, where there are over seventy emails favourited, and somehow it feels wrong and weirdly impersonal.

As if leaving without a note were any different.

He stares at the from line with an aching longing that seeps into his veins. It settles on his heart like a tangible thing; something warranted and cruel that casts shackles around the aorta and locks them tight so that he might never love again.

or, alex sends an email instead of flying to KP.

I'd Wanna Be Felled by You, Held by You by Anonymous. E, 7k. Henry has been hiding his second gender since Alex moved into his apartment three years ago. When Alex accidentally triggers Henry's first heat in years, Henry asks Alex to cuddle him through it.

everything's growing in our garden by matherine. T, 7.2k. That night, in the safety of his hotel room on the outskirts of the Olympic Village, Henry couldn’t catch his breath. He coughed and coughed, feeling like he was choking on nothing, but there was a scratching sensation in his throat that he just couldn’t shake – until a single blue petal flew past his lips, landing in the porcelain bowl of the sink.

After an hour of painstaking Googling, he learns that it’s a Texas bluebonnet. He also learns what the fact that he’s coughing up petals means – the beginning stages of Hanahaki Disease. Rare, but not unheard of, according to the NHS website he browses in an incognito tab. Common in royal bloodlines (thank you, inbreeding).

"Only curable if the afflicted’s love is requited with a declaration," he reads, and slams his laptop closed with a bitter laugh, wet with tears. "A surgical procedure removing the afflicted’s capacity for love may be performed if the love remains unrequited. Otherwise, the condition is terminal."

So, then. He has no chance.

you're on your own, kid (yeah you can face this) by coffeecatsme. T, 7.2k. “Let’s get it over with.” Henry attempts to move, but Shaan stops him with a hand over his arm, concern flickering in his eyes.

“Are you okay, Henry?” he asks, so silently that the PPOs wouldn’t even be able to hear it. Henry doesn’t even blink. He doubts that word exists in his vocabulary anymore—he doubts it’s in the cards for him. But he knows the script.

He forces a smile on his face. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Or, 5 times Henry feels alone in the world, and 1 time he realizes he isn't.

every version of you (i love) by coffeecatsme. M, 7.6k. “So,” the voice narrates as the man squishes the dog’s cheeks and laughs at himself. “There’s this guy that lives next to me with the cutest beagle in the world and this little guy climbs to the fence every day to drop his toys off at, like, 5:30 on the dot, I’m not kidding.” The camera shows the man boop the dog’s nose and press a little kiss to his forehead. There’s a ball in his hands that he hands to the dog, but it slips from his mouth all over again, making the man reach down to grab it. He glares at the dog, but even then he’s still smiling. “And this guy always walks by and picks up the stuff and it’s the cutest fucking thing ever you have no idea.” The camera zooms in farther into the man’s smile, genuine and wild, as he pushes his wild curls away from his face. His eyes flicker up when another figure walks into the frame, his blonde hair falling over his forehead in waves. The man’s smile, impossibly, widens.

“Oh. I’m also pretty sure he has a crush on my neighbor.”

Or, 5 times David greets Alex with something that belongs to Henry, and 1 time he greets Alex with something that belongs to both of them.

I'm Fine With My Spite and My Tears (and my beer and my candles) by Megg1223. E, 7.7k. Henry leaves Alex at the lake house, but Alex doesn't storm Kensington. What happens when they see each other after three months? With the election right around the corner can Alex keep it together enough not to cause another international incident? Alex just needs to get through the night and then he can forget about the boy who broke his heart, but he's finding it increasingly difficult as the night goes on.

Downburst by @cricketnationrise. E, 8.5k. Amy’s sudden shout of alarm cuts off whatever Zahra was going to say. Alex stares at Amy, uncomprehendingly. His heart is racing, his body already flooding with instinctive fear, brain scrambling to catch up, to process what she said—

Cash is at his side between one blink and the next, practically tackling him to the ground and oh—

That’s a gunshot.

in the shadow of two gunmen by matherine. M, 8.6k. There are over four hundred and thirty-three million guns in civilian possession in the United States. Alex isn’t sure where on the campaign trail that fact embedded itself into his brain — he thinks he picked it up from some memo between Minnesota and Missouri — but he’s never been able to forget it. It's one of those things he turns over and over in his head, running the numbers as if he could calculate the possibility of a bullet embedding itself in his brain.

In the end, Alex thinks that it evens out. More people want to kill him than the average person (and that number has grown exponentially over the years) but now he also has Secret Service protection and can’t go anywhere without a motorcade. So, really, statistically, he figures that he has just as much of a chance of being shot by one of those 433 million firearms as anyone else, give or take a few decimal points here and there. But doing the math doesn’t make it any less terrifying when it actually happens.

Locked In by @three-drink-amy. M, 9.2k. After their night together in Paris, Henry and Alex get quarantined in their hotel, locked in for two full weeks.

Henry's Cold, Empty Tower by @dracowillhearaboutthis. G, 9.6k. “I want you,” Henry said, slowly but clearly, “to leave.”

When Alex storms Kensington Palace, Henry sends him away. Then, their relationship gets leaked, and it's Henry's turn to fight for Alex.

There's Something Missing in My Heart by allmylovesatonce. M, 9.8k. When Alex goes to London to tell him he loves him, Henry sends him away. How do both of them react to being without each other and what happens when their emails are still leaked?

So I Will Weather the Storm by Mags (sparklepocalypse). E, 9.8k. They’re in the air twenty minutes before the next report comes in, this time over their headsets. “Patient is located on the eastern side of Sgòr Gaoith. He reports a sudden snow squall came up, and he lost his footing and took a fall. He’s conscious and reports no major injuries, but he’s stuck on a ledge and can’t make it back to the trail. Patient is wearing a red jacket and a black knit cap and states his name is – ” there’s a burst of static over the radio.

“Please repeat the patient’s name,” Henry says into the headset mic as Schlosser programs the mountain’s location into the GPS.

There’s a bit more static, and then the dispatcher states, “Alexander Claremont-Diaz.”

(Or, a movieverse canon divergent AU wherein Henry is in the RAF and Cakegate still takes place, but the PR campaign doesn't happen – and two months after Cakegate, Alex does something dumb on a mountain in Scotland.)

a series of non-disclosure dilemmas series by everwitch. E, 10k. It takes a bit of time, before they manage to find the right person – a guy they’re both into, who is into what they’re into, and who is willing to sign a massive NDA even before they’ve made it to the bedroom. But once they do? It’s good. It’s so, so good. Still, nothing lasts forever, and when Theodore’s career takes him across the pond, Alex and Henry must consider whether or not they should start searching for someone else. Except in the end, they don’t have to search at all – Kenji is equal parts a surprise, and an absolute delight.

But the biggest surprise of all is the fact that, somewhere between a lot of really fun sex and some lazy, post-coital Star Wars banter, Alex and Henry end up with a matchmaking scheme that could certainly rival any cinematic drama. Theo, and Kenji. So different, but so well suited.

But how to get them together?

(did my love aid and abet you?) by alasse. T, 11k. That night in Kensington Palace, Henry told Alex to leave. Eleven years later, Alex watches on the news as Henry comes out, and abdicates. A story of what came before, and what comes after.

i vowed i would always be yours ('cause we survived the great war) by coffeecatsme. T, 12k. Mary Mountchristen-Windsor dies on June 5th, 2020, on a Tuesday morning, after an unexpected heart attack takes her before she’s rushed to a hospital.

Alex Claremont-Diaz hates Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor. It's a fact, written in stone, deep enough that nothing, he believes, can sand it off. Until he bumps into the prince at his grandmother's funeral and sees a different side of him.

Or, 5 times Alex and Henry have to hide themselves and 1 time they don't have to.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words by TintedMirrors. E, 12k. "It’s not an innocent picture. It’s anything but. Henry is lying on his back in the wet sand of the beach, body completely bare and naked in a way that should have only been for Alex’s eyes, and Alex is lying on top of him. Alex’s still wearing his swim trunks, but he’s cradled in Henry’s thighs, his body blanketing Henry’s as he kisses him deeply. His arm is caught between them and Alex remembers exactly what he was doing. In the picture, there’s a peek of his fingers at the bottom of Henry’s thighs, and while it doesn’t show Henry’s cock or asshole, it’s clear where Alex’s fingers are.

Inside of Henry."

A picture of a private moment between Alex and Henry is taken while they're on vacation, which leads to a media frenzy.

Alex can't stop looking at it...

A Parent's Love by herebecauseimqueer. NR, 13k. An exploration of who Henry would be and how the events of RWRB would be different if Arthur never got sick.

Once I get a taste by clottedcreamfudge. E, 16k. “Please,” Alex begs, on fire with a clawing desperate need. “Fuck, please, I’ll do anything. Henry.”

Henry, entire body rigid with tension, slowly shakes his head. Alex sees his mouth – red from where Alex has been kissing him, biting him, well on his way to eating Henry alive – form the word no, even though he can’t hear it past the blood rushing in his ears.

Then Henry turns and leaves, and Alex digs his fingers into the cheap plywood of his own desk as he tries desperately not to fall to the floor.

Which is not, as it turns out, where this story starts.

A Heart Even More Your Own. by chaa_kiao. T, 16k. “Guess you’ll be writing those poems after all.” He swallows. "I should go."

Henry’s mind— every part of him, really— his heart, his body, his fucking soul— is screaming at him to take it all back. To hell with the monarchy, the American presidency, damn it all. This is the man he’s spent his entire life loving and he’s throwing it away for a legacy he doesn’t give a single fuck about. He forces out a rough “I think so,” but he can’t hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I love you.”

“Alex—”

“I know,” Alex says. “I just had to say it.”

Or: Alex and Henry getting back together takes a little bit longer this time.

Growth Is Uncomfortable (Because You've Never Been Here Before) by Jaistiel. M, 17k. "He said if I wanted to help, they would be instrumental in understanding how." Henry outright laughed at this. It was a hollow, joyless sound, and Philip, to his credit, merely looked chastised instead of angry.

"Do you? Want to help, that is." Henry narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the emotion written on Philip's face. He had never been easy to read, always hidden behind the stuffy upper class posture of a royal, but now it seemed that some of that wall built around him had slipped away.

"Yes." He didn't expand on his answer, didn't fill the room with platitudes and meaningless explanations. His response was, in full, simply: yes. Henry stared at him in shock.

In the week following the leak, Philip has a series of conversations that lead him down a path of introspection and understanding. Each told through a different POV.

I feel the beating of your heart, I see the shadows on your face by @anincompletelist. M, 18k. It’s certainly not what Alex would have predicted a few days prior. If someone had told him he’d be tenderly embracing his self-imposed enemy after switching bodies with him for seventy-two hours and embarking on an unintentional journey of self discovery and then finally finding their way back to each other to ask for a True Love’s Kiss that may or may not break the curse that flipped their lives upside down -

Well, Alex would have told them to fuck off.

Sure As the Stars in the Sky by anincompletelist. E, 20k. It shouldn't matter that Alex has been present for each and every one of Henry's most important life milestones, sometimes the singular catalyst for them. It shouldn't be important that he's grown to be more familiar to Henry than even some of his own family members, that part of him is burrowed so deeply into Henry's subconscious that he can taste it sometimes, that even when Alex crashes in, spirited and passionate, it feels like an easy exhale; like coming home.

It shouldn't matter, but it does.

flatline by rizcriz. T, 21k. Alex gets the call at 7:57am.

It’s from an unknown number, so he answers it with an accent on his tongue and laughter in his throat, ready to troll the scammer for all they’re worth. But the voice on the other side of the line is serious, solemn, when she asks, “Is this, I apologize, all I’ve been given are initials, AGCD?”

He frowns, turning away from the coffee shop he’d been about to enter. “Who’s asking?”

There’s a moment of hesitation on the other end. “There’s been an incident. On the individual's phone, there’s a sticker. It says, if found, return to AGCD, alongside this phone number. Does it sound familiar?”

Alex freezes in the middle of the sidewalk. “What kind of incident?”

Or, Henry's been in an accident.

Pump The Volume by absoluteaudacity. M, 22k. Zahra, sitting across the table from Alex, gives him a stony glare. “Aids?” she signs and he shakes his head obstinately. His hearing aids make his ears itch and he isn’t wearing them in his own house, even if that house is The White House.

everybody needs someone series by anincompletelist (soldouthaz). E, 24k. It would hurt less, Alex guesses, if he wasn’t head over heels for the guy he’s supposed to be fucking through an ancient one-sided sex curse with that was partially — a lot, actually — his own fault.

But. It’s not like there’s a fucking handbook.

Alex has looked. 

Claremont 2008 by @happiness-of-the-pursuit. M, 26k. What if Ellen Claremont had gotten elected in 2008 instead of Obama? An alternate timeline story of FirstPrince.

2009 at Buckingham Palace for tea. A sleepover after a quinceañera in 2010. The 2012 London Olympics. A 2014 Model UN Conference. A funeral in 2015. College and another campaign trail.

And the texts, facetimes, and chain emails in between.

Vacation, Meant to Be Spent Alone by allmylovesatonce. E, 29k. Alex has the perfect trip planned out for himself after his graduation. The last thing he expects is for his room to be double booked. The worst part of it all is that he'll be forced to share the room with his nemesis: Prince Henry of Wales.

Oblivion by milowren. NR, 31k. What if the moment in the hospital wasn’t a false alarm and the publicity surrounding the forced bromance between Alex and Henry had the adverse effect of them being kidnapped together?

Someday Soon I’ll See You (But Now You’re Out Of Sight) by MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays. NR (MCD), 38k. Alexander Claremont-Diaz was twenty-eight years old when a car crash took his life.

The entire world grieved, and the entire world remembered.

But for some people, it wasn’t just a figurehead that died. It was a friend, a brother, a son. A husband. And remembering all of Alex was a hell of a task to undertake.

Or, how six people in Alex’s life work through his death.

You'll Get Better Soon ('Cause you have to) by Megg1223. T, 38k. Dr. Eden sighs and looks them both in the eyes. “I’m not going to lie to you. There is a possibility that he will never recover his memories. But, there are things we can do to help him along. I’ve already told him about the memory loss. He knows it’s 2023 and that he lost almost four years of memories. I think it may be best to update him on his current situation. His day to day life is drastically different then it was in 2019, is that correct?”

“Yeah, I would say.” Alex huffs out a bitter laugh.

Henry is in an accident and thinks it's still 2019. He still believes Alex hates him, and Alex is a just as much of a mess as you think he would be.

all the rumors are true by fxckingeyelashes. E, 53k. The door slams open in the middle of the night. Henry and Alex both shoot up, blinking through the dark.

“Wha- Zahra, what the hell?” Alex mumbles, making sure to keep the blanket over their naked hips.

Zahra exhales slowly as she flips the lights on. “We have a situation. You two need to get dressed and meet me in the office. It’s… it’s your emails. Someone’s hacked the server. They’re public.”

Alex isn’t sure he remembers how to breathe. Henry’s the first to move, grabbing the small trash can from beside Alex’s bed just in time to get sick.

//

Or, the one where the emails are leaked, but Alex and Henry are together when it happens. Bits from the book, bits from the movie, bits from my own personal AU I’ve created in my head.

Don't Initiate a Handshake, Always Address Them Properly, and For God's Sake, No Tiaras Until 6pm by TuppingLiberty. E, 63k. What happens when the White House decides to be proactive rather than reactive? Alex is brilliant and kind, but he's in need of a little polishing before he attends the royal wedding, and who to provide it better than Prince Henry? After all, they're both beholden to NDAs and with Princess Bea visiting as well, it's easy to pass off the two week visit as goodwill ambassadorship for both countries. No one has to know Henry is tutoring Alex.

So Alex is going to be left alone in the White House with his mortal enemy and three meddling sisters learning all about royal etiquette and protocol.

What's the worst that can happen?

Things I Cannot Accept by @sprigsofviolets. T, 69k. In 2016, Ellen Claremont lost the presidential election.

In 2019, Alex Claremont-Diaz is not the first son of the United States, so he’s shocked when his path crosses with Prince Henry for the first time in almost four years.

What Do I Know by allmylovesatonce. E, 83k. After a bad accident, Alex finally wakes up from a week-long coma. His family and friends are so relieved until they find that he has memory loss, forgetting the last five plus years. For Henry, he's forgotten their entire relationship. How do they go forward when Alex still thinks he hates Henry, but Henry is wearing his wedding ring?

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

[popatochisssp]

IM IN LOVE WITH ALL THE NEW BOYSS!!!! I was wondering what hobbies they would have? Would any of them skate? What about make art? Play piano, perhaps?

Quick sidebar, it would probably be easier to ask who can’t skate than who can—at least regarding ice skating—because the majority of the skeletons lived/grew up in Snowdin and had plenty of time to practice their ‘don’t pratfall on the ice’ skills, so they’d (almost) all be at least passingly competent at ice skating, and then whatever learning curve is involved with slightly transferable skills to not-ice skating.

That said!

…You know, I realized I never did an accounting of all this, even with the first two waves of boys, so…

This is by no means a complete list of everything the boys might enjoy doing—despite the fact that this is huge and completely got away from me, oh my god seriously do not open the readmore on your dash—but!

Sans (Undertale):

He’s a goofy guy, so it’s probably no surprise that he’s into comedy. He’s a lover of puns and pranks and jokes in general, just…maybe not as casually as he makes it look. He does a little stand-up now and then, open mic nights mostly nowadays, but he’s played to larger audiences before at the MTT resort. He’s also got a pretty sizeable collection of comedic paraphernalia—rubber chickens, whoopie cushion, snapping gum, you name it—just on the off chance he might get to use it in a prime moment. He spends a lot of his free time reading joke books, watching other pros perform, and even, on occasion, don’t tell anyone, but… studying the science of humor, what people seem to find funny, how, and why. He doesn’t like to let on, because he thinks it makes him seems a little less cool and funny if you know he goes out of his way to research this stuff sometimes instead of just vibing on improv, but he genuinely finds the subject fascinating and likes to read about it. Alas, he’s a nerd…

And as such, he’s also very into physics. Quantum physics as food for thought in his downtime when he just wants to chew on some conceptually heavy stuff, but classical and practical physics make for some great experiments and demos, especially as party tricks or ‘hey, you wanna see something cool?’s for interested onlookers and he’s so all about that. Want to try an egg drop from the roof with popsicle sticks and straws? He’s got tape and a fresh carton right here. Maybe make a magnet out of a battery? Sure, there’s wire and nails around here somewhere… Or maybe you want to bet him he can’t hold up a water bottle with nothing but a string and three matches? C’mon, 10G—no, 20G. But really, he’ll take any excuse to do a cool demo of stuff he knows.

As for stuff that doesn’t demo quite as well… It was a little less apparent Underground, but there was a reason he had that telescope of his and it wasn’t just because he liked pranking people with paint on the eye-piece. He did love doing that, of course, but he also genuinely loves stars and space, learning about it and looking at it now that he actually has the opportunity to—he’s got his telescope to use on clear nights, a yearly pass for the local planetarium, and you better believe he’s subscribed to NASA’s newsletters for regular updates on the goings on out there. He tries to play it cool, but stars and black holes and nebulae are cooler, it’s hard not to get invested in everything to do with them…

Papyrus (Undertale):

Of course, he’s the master of puzzles, and not just your basic jigsaw! …Well, maybe sometimes a jigsaw, he’s not morally opposed to them but really, he needs a challenge for his intellect! He doesn’t mind a word puzzle here and there—as long as it’s not a crossword—but physical puzzles are his favorites, anything to employ his spatial reasoning and impressively fine motor skills. Rubik’s cubes are fun, linked wires, interlocking blocks, really anything in three dimensions that he can fiddle with and manipulate until it surrenders to his incredible greatness. He’s very proud of his solving ability and definitely brags about it, but he’s not just blowing hot air. He really does have a great knack for observing disparate pieces and fitting them together conceptually to see what they can be before ever starting to physically assemble them and the joy of bragging aside, he loves getting to exercise that particular mind-muscle and show his smarts.

In a similar vein, he’s also a big fan of model-making. Planes, trains, automobiles and the like, and no small amount of action figures, he likes to build them up piece by piece with his own two hands. It’s fine to populate his theoretical battle scenarios with gifts from brothers and Santas, or stuff he found at the Dump, but it’s definitely his preference to start with a kit and put it all together himself, watching it gradually take shape with his diligent effort. Maybe he’ll go off-book from time to time, a little bit, but customizing things to his own unique specifications just seems the thing to do when he’s already doing the rest of the making. All the gluing and cutting and painting and lacquering by hand… it’s the art of creation—and what nobler pursuit is there than that?

Well, there may be one other thing. As a truly renaissance man, he’s naturally well-rounded in his interests, intelligent and creative and yes, physically fit too! For him, there’s no better way to stay in shape than by playing sports, most any kind! Basketball, soccer, hockey, tennis, he’ll play any sport, just explain the rules and give him the ball—or don’t, depending on the objective and rules of the specific game in question as you’ve described it. The desirability of the sportsball does seem to vary quite a bit, so he’ll need to determine whether he wants to obtain or get rid of the ball, puck, shuttlecock, whatev—no, that’s the accurate term, it is not! Whatever you’re thinking! Stars, be mature… But! He likes games and being active and having friends, all of which are part and parcel of engaging in sports, so he’s really always up for a game.

Sky (Underswap Sans):

He likes to bake! He’s not a professional and in fact, he finds it to be quite challenging at times—there’s way more restrictions than cooking on how much to add of this, making sure to do that before the other thing but after this step, the oven has to be at exactly the right temperature… There’s a lot of steps and rules, but that’s kind of what he likes about it. He likes trying to see if he can make a thing, and then if he can, what tweaks he can make to flavors and textures without compromising the end result. He’s not always successful—he’s definitely ended up with sopping wet cakes, burnt pie crusts, overly salty muffins—but frankly, the experimenting to get it right is all part of the fun! He tends to make more tasty treats than he does failures and he’s happy to share those around with friends and family anytime. Baking may be an exacting mistress, but he loves to tango with her all the same!

Speaking of which…well, he may not know the tango specifically but he does love to dance! He’s got a lot of energy and a solid sense of rhythm, and that combo tends to result in at least a little shimmy of a two-step when there’s a good beat going on—and all bets are off entirely if there happens to be a dance floor and a favorite song playing. He likes dancing with a partner, or in a group, but he’ll dance all by himself if he’s feeling the mood, like nobody’s watching…or rather, like everyone’s watching and he wants to impress and lure out a little company to join him. He even has a tendency to put on music and dance in place a bit when he’s doing otherwise boring chores around the house, like dishes or vacuuming, and while he doesn’t mind doing his dancing solo then too, he’s always delighted to find someone who’s willing to dance along.

He wouldn’t turn down some company for a bit of outdoor exploration, either. A hiking trail maybe? Or some rock climbing? A nature trail or just a walk in the park wouldn’t go awry either if something a little less strenuous is required! He does like the exercise but it’s mostly the nature and all things green that he wants to see and be out in—trees and flowers and even grass. His house would probably be packed with greenery if he…hadn’t…killed every single plant he ever tried to keep…but! Since he does indeed have a deadly black thumb, he likes to visit the plants, in their natural habitat where he has no control over whether they live or die (so they’ll probably continue to live).

Paps (Underswap Papyrus):

It’s no secret that he’s a bookworm. He loves literature and always has—his brother will tell you he was reading before he was even talking, and as embarrassing as it is every time he brings it up, it’s not untrue. He reads voraciously, with a preference for fantasy, romance, and poetry, but he’ll read pretty much any book he can get his hands on. It’s probably no surprise that he’s been inspired to do a little writing of his own, over the years. He’s pretty private about his own work (especially the poetry, oh god, he’d dust on the spot if someone saw his poetry) but he still loves to talk about the written word and techniques used in its conveyance and form, and the struggles writers face in trying to communicate the ideas they have stuck in their heads. He’s great for reading recommendations if he knows the kind of things someone likes, but his go-to recs will always be his personal favorites.

Pride and Prejudice is one such favorite. He’s seen all the film adaptations and miniseries, and branched out from there, first into stuff inspired by similar works, then originals, and then…okay, he’s maybe a little bit addicted to period pieces in general now. Whenever a new one comes out, anything about regency or royals or the nobility in a dramatic setting, he pretty much has to watch it, more only a question of ‘when’ and not ‘if’ he’ll be checking it out. Naturally, he’s happiest when it’s coming out on a scheduled basis, because if an entire season drops all at once he’s going to sit there and binge it and it’s much harder to deny he has an addiction when he just pulled an all-nighter about it. He can’t help himself, he has to see if the socially mismatched couple can make it work and be wed in the end, love winning out over silly class divides…

When he’s not actively obsessed with either of those things, though, he dabbles a bit in calligraphy. He’d probably hesitate to call it a hobby, he does have a couple of those fancy pens and some nice paper and ink to use them with, and he’s decent at it, but definitely needs to practice more to be able to do the really fancy flourishes without blotting the ink or scratching the page. He can certainly do some simple, clean lettering if needed! Like…if you want a poster or a sign to look neat and professional, or…maybe you want the ‘To Do’ list on the fridge to have a fancy header or something? (His end-goal is to be able to do his own drop-caps and an elaborate cursive title for the cover of his book, someday, maybe, who knows…)

Jasper (Underfell Sans):

He likes working with his hands, making things and having something to show for his time and effort. (Knitting? No, that’s, that’s not a hobby, that was a necessity, just for special occasions now, he’s not…naw, c’mon…) He’s something of a car guy. He likes engines and wheels and pistons and how they all work together to make something that goes fast, and he likes understanding how all the pieces fit together and how to fix them if something breaks. It’s something he practiced Underground with busted old engines and bikes that fell down, and a career he pursued on the Surface, but even in his free time he likes tuning up his car, his bro’s car, restoring glory to a classic bike he got at a steal of a price and she’s gonna purr like a kitten when he’s done—he’s just…happy, with his hands buried in an engine and grease all over his face.

And speaking of grease on his face, he’s pretty passionate about food, too. Not so much the cooking of it, though he’s not too shabby in the kitchen when he puts the effort in, but more the eating of it and appreciating the flavors and textures. He’s got a lot of strong opinions on how done a steak oughta be (medium-rare), what belongs on pizza (anything but candy), and how to eat chips with your sandwich (in it, for that extra crunch of texture). ‘Gourmet’ sounds a little too snobby for his tastes, food doesn’t have to be expensive to be good and in fact, it usually isn’t—some of his best meals have been from holes in the wall—but he does like going out to such places to eat and socialize, maybe have a chat and give his compliments to the chef (and definitely not try to wheedle any recipes), that sorta thing.

But after all that, when he really wants to wind down, there’s nothing he likes better than a bit of gaming. He’s not much for multiplayer, he prefers doing his own thing at his own pace, but he likes having some kind of objective and making it happen. It gives a nice sense of accomplishment that he can get while sitting down—which is great. He tends mostly towards puzzle/adventure type games more than pure battle scenarios and beat-‘em-ups, he feels like there should be some strategy and skill involved, or the satisfaction of the win just doesn’t come through as strong. (Protip: do not watch this man defeat a Dark Souls boss if you are easily stressed out. He taunts between strikes and dodges at the very last second because he’s got the timing down to a science. Maybe try Pokemon or Zelda instead…)

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus):

His first great love is and likely always shall be the theater. He didn’t have too many opportunities Underground to go see live stage plays, but he’s long since broken the spine of the collected works of Shakespeare that got him started and memorized its contents, water-stained cover to water-stained cover. He can recite any of the Bard’s work by act and scene number, of which he is incredibly proud, but he’s at least passing familiar with a handful of other manuscripts or popular stage-to-film adaptations mass produced enough to have a chance of ending up in the Dump in decent condition. On the Surface, he definitely wants to see some things live and gets only a reasonable amount of excited about specific productions’ quirks and narrative choices. Joining in on local theater himself? Well…he’s very busy these days… (Maybe after retirement?)

Another passion of his pulled from the depths of the Dump is his guitar—a bass so sturdy and lucky that it made it all the way down without breaking a string. He thought it was cool as soon as he saw it and really wanted to have it and learn how to play. It’s been an uphill struggle since he’s entirely self-taught with regards to his equipment settings, guitar maintenance, and even reading music notes, but the few sparse instruction manuals he’s managed to find were helpful. His own stubborn determination to figure it out and be the kind of cool guy who knows how to play bass has taken him a long way, and he’s starting to make some deep, pleasant sounds that he’s very happy about… But he’s still nowhere near ready to play for anyone, he couldn’t possibly, not until he’s good at it!

And when he’s having a bad time at that, or anything else is ticking him off and there’s no better outlet to blow off steam, he knows he can always fall back on a good work-out. Even in a Kill or Be Killed sort of place, it’s not always a good idea to go picking fights and yelling and cussing and beating the stuffing out of other people—so whenever he feels like doing that, he’s in the habit of beating the stuffing out of a punching bag instead, or lifting weights, or doing one-handed push-ups, something strenuous. He may not be a machine made of meat that releases good-feeling chemicals after a successful exertion, like humans are, but he still feels great after getting to work out and clear his mind of everything but what his body’s doing so he likes to keep up a regular routine. You don’t want to see him after he’s missed a few work-outs, he gets very testy.

Mal (Swapfell Sans):

Pretty much from the moment he came into existence, he’s loved math. Call him a nerd all you like, but numbers are his happy place, where everything is straightforward and exactly what it’s supposed to be and if he doesn’t understand something, he’s probably only missing a variable and when he finds it, everything will make sense again. He has apps and workbooks around with equations for him to solve in his downtime like some kind of freak, but lacking those he’ll sometimes just make up his own math problems and try to solve them in his head—how long will it take for the water cooler to be empty if the tap is dripping at a regular interval of one drop every forty-seven seconds, should no one notice and intervene to repair it? The drum holds up to five gallons, but has already been emptied by approximately—

Okay, that’s enough math. He’s also into whittling, though he’s miles less confident about his ability. He’s not terrible, really, just very self-critical so he tends not to show off the things he makes, but he likes having something to occupy his hands while most of his attention is elsewhere, with the added bonus of having a knife in one of said hands should someone surprise him—self-defense is important, you know! In any case, he’s not as good of an artist as his brother, or even as good as he’d like to be, but it’s something to do and he can only improve with practice. Someday, with the proper equipment, he might even get into full-on woodworking, with chairs and tables and cabinetry and such that are far more straightforward to make than fiddly little figurines, but for now he just has a whittling knife and wood and too much stubbornness to quit at anything once he’s started.

As for something a little (debatably) higher-brow, he also has an interest in wine. He’s no sommelier, of course, but he’s run in fancy (royal) circles for long enough to have tried his fair share of fermented fruit juices. There are some he likes (dry reds), some he doesn’t (sweet whites), and plenty in between—but the topic makes for excellent conversation at lots of dinner parties and formal occasions, so he felt it helpful to learn a few things here and there so he knows (or can pass as knowing) what he’s talking about. On the Surface, he actually gets to take a wine tasting class and put a formal polish on his book-learning and first-hand experience, and makes a point of trying new brands that catch his attention. (He’ll never admit it aloud, but he’s far more swayed by a cool label or an interesting bottle shape than a high price tag—even cheap wine tastes just fine if you aerate it!)

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus):

He’s an artist, first and foremost. His most frequent medium is pen and paper—it’s what he started with and what he’s practiced the most—but it’s never really occurred to him to limit himself to only one thing so he’s tried out a lot of different techniques and utensils and can use most of them effectively. He’s not formally taught, seen some pictures and read some textbook entries of famous pieces and art movements, but everything he’s learned he learned by screwing around with it until he figured out how to make it look like he wanted and in the process, he’s built up a pretty strong base of skills. Mostly, he likes to draw (or sketch or paint) things he’s seen, recreating memories like a photo without a camera, but sometimes he goes on more abstract style experiments, trying to express a vibe or a feeling more than a moment. He finds it meditative, grounding more than anything else he’s tried to relax and it makes him happy to have a creative outlet.

As far as other ways to relax and have fun, something that’s really blossomed on the Surface for him is his interest in fidget toys. Not too many made it Underground for him to enjoy then, just a lonely broken palm-tangle and about a hundred Rubik’s cubes in various states of disrepair—sadly he got so good at solving the cubes that he doesn’t even consider them puzzles, just color-block-pattern simulators—but the Surface! There’s so many stim and fidget toys for him to get his hands on, and so many Ultimate Super Satisfying Compilation vids online to show him new ones. Poppers, spinners, chewelry, clickers…some hit better than others but he likes trying things out, playing with toys that are brightly colored, or feel cool, or make a nice sound. He keeps his favorites and sells or donates the rest, gotta make sure to leave room somewhere if he wants to get a new one.

He also makes a point of walking to the stores and donation centers and post offices at which he exchanges these items because—at the risk of making him sound like a dog—he loves going on walks! He was a shut-in for awhile, afraid of strangers outside, and to an extent he still is (social anxiety), but the Surface has different rules and for a lot of reasons, it feels safer for him to be out and about now, and he likes taking advantage of that. Fresh air and sun and slow, easy movement without having to look over his shoulder, free attention to spare to his surroundings and the chance to stop somewhere and check out a new place… He really likes it and tries to make time to go on a walk at least once every couple of days, destination entirely optional.

Slate (Horrortale Sans):

He’s a rock guy, and he’s not talking about the music genre—just rocks, or crystals, the kind you find in and on the ground. He likes the pun potential (ask any geologist, there’s a million) but also it’s just something fun and low-stakes to do, to collect and find and examine stones and crystals whenever he happens to come across them. A lot of his facts and knowledge base predate the head injury, too, so it’s something he tends to know a good amount about and can have a high-level conversation about at length, of which he’s very proud. Plus, having a bunch of rocks around doubles as both home décor and paperweights, so you gotta admire the versatility of it. He's always on the lookout for new stones to add to his collection, or to talk about and pebble—I mean, gift to his friends and family.

He’s an animal lover as well, which is…not much of a transition from the previous paragraph. He had a pet rock once, does that bridge the gap? Not really. Ah well. The point is, he likes critters, usually ones smaller than him but that’s not hard since he’s a pretty big guy. His past and the things he’s done don’t matter to animals, all they care about is whether he’s an immediate threat (he isn’t) and if he has food to give them (likely), and not having to worry about that is a heavy weight off his mind. He can be totally relaxed around animals so he likes spending time around them whenever he gets the chance—fur and fluff is a plus but he’s got nothing against scales and feathers, creatures come as you are and he’ll get you some water and a treat and maybe a scritch.

But if he must be around humans, or other sentient beings (he must, he’s not built for social isolation), then magic is the ace he keeps up his sleeve. Not the real stuff, of course… Though he’ll naturally be happy to show an interested onlooker a bullet or two, real magic is something any monster can do, even if they were literally born yesterday. He likes fake magic, sleight of hand tricks and misdirection—disappearing and reappearing coins, spoon bending, levitating cards—y’know, the cheap gimmicky shit. It’s fun to learn and easy to practice, works very well with a lot of skills he already had. It also has the additional plus of being disarming for anyone who might be a little…intimidated by him, his size and spooky appearance, especially if he can’t get a joke out quick enough to show he’s harmless, so he likes picking up new tricks when he can and showing them off when he’s got ‘em right.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus):

He loves to cook! He’s gotten a lot better at it since the old days, trying to learn from Undyne’s lessons and it’s become a genuine passion for him to hone his skills in the kitchen and then (hopefully) show off to guests and friends and family who come over to share a meal. He considers it something of a puzzle in its own right—how to use these ingredients to get the most nutritional value with as little wasted as possible. He’s figured out a lot of ways to repurpose bits that usually get thrown out and in some cases, even make more tasty meals with the castoff pieces (his veggie-peel soup stock is to die for…not literally, but it’s very good)! His favorite part is naturally when people eat what he makes and shower him in compliments, but a close second is knowing that he’s fed his loved ones and they won’t ever leave his home hungry.

Since he does so much in the kitchen and, for the first time in a long time, he has an unfrozen yard for two or three quarters of a year and easy access to seeds, he’s also taken up gardening. Mostly, he grows his own vegetables and herbs but he has the space and the inclination so there’s plenty of colorful flowers in the mix too. He’s very attentive to his crops and flowerbeds and does everything his plants need to flourish and bloom. He delights in praise for his good work and the gratitude when he has a big enough harvest to share with friends and neighbors, or maybe to donate to the local food bank if they’re willing to take it. His garden is his pride and joy and no dirt or weather or pests will stop him from maintaining it!

Now he does have one hobby that’s just for his own enjoyment, not even peripherally related to others, and it’s pure unadulterated guilty pleasure: he adores watching soap operas. The more theatrical and contrived, the better, he can’t help but get sucked into the cheesy drama of it all. He started with just one hospital show and kept watching to tut and shake his head over inaccuracies, and then there was another show on after it that had a wild opening hook, and then…and then… Alas, he found the telenovelas. His enjoyment of them is only somewhat hampered by his inability to understand Spanish, but you’d be surprised how much you can glean from context clues and some things transcend language—it’s too late for him now, he’s recording every episode that airs during the day to watch later, he must know if Gloria’s twin sister will run away with her amnesiac fiancé!

Ash (Undergloom Sans):

Music’s the big one for him. He’s very low-energy and when you’re both depressed and physically fragile, it’s not always possible to go out to where other people are, even when you want to—but music can come to you, no matter how bad you’re feeling, and for that it’s become a huge pillar in his life. His favorite genre is classical (can’t get more classic than The Classics), but he’ll listen to most things, though he’ll always want a physical copy of it to keep if he likes it. CDs, tapes, even vinyl records, digital file only just doesn’t cut it for him. He plays his own music too, rarely with sheet music and mostly just riffing whatever feels right at the time. His trusty trombone is more than just a vehicle for incidental music, it’s like a pal that’s always been there for him even if he didn’t have the energy for it sometimes, and he makes sure to keep it in prime condition.

On his better days—of which he’s been having a lot more since reaching the Surface—he very much loves to be around people and one of his favorite things to get to do with those people is play games, board games to be specific. Monopoly might get a little too violent for his tastes, but stuff like Scrabble, Sorry!, Jenga, all up his alley. It takes a mix of skill and luck to win, which keeps things interesting, and barring a snack break or a celebratory dance of some kind, can be enjoyed entirely sedentarily, which is excellent. He probably shouldn’t be allowed to play cards (he counts them), and his brother swears he weighs dice (he doesn’t), but everything else is fair game and he likes having something he can shine at while also getting to hang out with friends.

But when he’s at home, or he can’t find a group to hang with, he spends a good amount of time cloud-gazing. Not star-gazing, though the sky and the stars are beautiful of course, but his interest is in the atmosphere, on the weather. There weren’t too many weather conditions to be found Underground—snow and rain and hot, basically—and the descriptions he’d heard and read of the kind of stuff that happened on the Surface had always captured his imagination. Clouds, storm cells, fog? It was interesting, and he read about a lot of atmospheric conditions without ever really expecting to see any for himself… but he’s actually up here now. And here, he’s the type of guy who owns a barometer, watches live Doppler radar feeds with rapt interest, and can tell you if it’s going to rain without even checking the weather app, just by taking a look up. His interest in meteorology actually has some practical applications now, go figure.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus):

He’s a cook, and though that may not be his job title, he takes it almost as seriously as if it was. For him, it’s both a passion and a language, a way to reach out to people and connect when there aren’t words—or when there are, but they’re not enough. He thinks of every meal he makes as a gift for the person he’s making it for and as such, it’s not enough for it to just be good food—it should be personalized to suit the recipient’s tastes, bespoke to what they like! That said, he primarily cooks comfort foods, stuff loaded with butter and cheese and salt because that’s what his depressed and struggling loved ones seem to like the most. It’s not always to his tastes, but it’s a point of great pride for him to have dinners at his home feeling like the end of Thanksgiving, everyone full and content and at risk of dozing off on the sofa.

He takes such pride in his cooking that he makes most everything from scratch, and that’s how he got into canning. To get to be such a good cook and to have such a discerning palate, you start to get a bit dissatisfied with store-bought spreads, and you start thinking of how you could tweak it, just a bit, and come up with something a little better. And well, of course he has a sweet tooth and doesn’t he deserve to gift himself a treat from time to time? Which is not to say he doesn’t share his jams and jellies and preserves when he gets to making them—which is anytime there’s a good sale on fruit—but at the risk of making him sound arrogant, he’s absolutely spoiled himself for even the big brands at the store. Sure, he could buy it, as-is, or he could make it and enhance the flavor with a bit of mint or cinnamon or whatever it’s begging for, exactly to his liking. …He does go through quite a lot of jars, though.

So it’s a good thing that he knows all the best home goods stores in the area to buy mason jars, and loyalty perks at every one that offers them because he’s such a frequent customer. He’s very particular about the way his home is decorated and spends a lot of time and effort into cultivating just the right homey, comfortable, clean vibe for the space, so of course he’s always thinking of ways to use his décor to do just that. He doesn’t like a static environment so he frequently moves things around, takes away old things, and adds new ones—scented candles, decorative bowls, accent pieces, really anything that catches his eye-socket. He’s a natural-born homemaker, really, it's a shame he doesn’t have a spouse to appreciate all his talents (yet~).

Brick (Horrorfell Sans):

Okay well now knitting is a hobby of his, now that he’s too big and scary to give a shit what anyone thinks about his yarn-crafting. It’s a skill from before the head injury (and the Everything Else) so it’s not like having to pick up a new skill and something you can be competent at is always nice. He finds it pretty relaxing too, if he’s honest with himself, and grounding—between the repetitive motions and the tangible product of his effort and time having passed, it’s a good go-to for him when he’s stressed and needs to calm down, or when he’s disoriented and has to reorient onto something real. It’s a pretty nice side-hustle too, selling what he makes online, but even if it wasn’t for someone, he’d still knit for himself.

…But it’s maybe not so much of a side-hustle because he doesn’t really have a main-hustle to be doing his knitting on the side of. He mostly hangs around the house as an unemployed self-employed bum. And if you’re bored, in the house, it’s probably only a matter of time before you notice something that needs attention, something broken or askew or in need of a fresh coat of something, and that’s what happened to him, and how he started getting into a lot of DIY home repair. He’s got a background in a lot of technical and mechanical stuff, the confidence to poke around in unfamiliar things, and he certainly has the time, so he’s become something of an all-purpose handyman, regularly sweeping the place to see if there’s something he can fix or tune up. Leaky faucet in the kitchen? Engine maintenance on his bro’s car? Heating ducts making a weird noise? No problem, he’ll check it out, probably an easy enough fix.

He doesn’t stay cooped up in the house all the time though. …Most of it, maybe, but he likes to sit out on the porch or hang in the yard sometimes and get a front row seat to all the wildlife lurking around. He keeps a bird-feeder topped up so the birds always come by, and he’s maybe not so diligent about making sure the bird-feeder doesn’t also become a squirrel-feeder, so there’s a few of them around, too. He has a bad habit of leaving food out for neighborhood strays—cats—and every now and again he’ll catch one and get it fixed, but the food’s also lured in a few other critters it wasn’t meant for. He shoos away the raccoons and possums and (on a couple occasions) foxes that end up on his doorstep, but he likes seeing them so he probably won’t ever really stop. There’s a local murder of crows who bring him offerings of bottle caps and buttons and other junk, and he’s half-convinced they worship him as a god but that’s definitely not going to his head or anything, don’t worry.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus):

He likes to meditate. That’s perhaps an understatement, he needs to meditate—even after abdicating his throne and resuming a civilian life, on the Surface with food and safety and funds aplenty, he has a lot of stress and on any given day, he’s wound tight as a spring. Old habits die hard, and old guilt and pain and fear die harder, and he has a tough time relaxing naturally. Having a set time and routine to sit and breathe and clear his mind, deliberately, is crucial for him. He’s got a room set aside just for it with only related paraphernalia—meditation music, incense holder, a zen garden—inside, a space empty of distractions where he can just relax and let everything else go. It’s either that or be more open and vulnerable in therapy and the latter’s not happening any time soon, so his meditation room is the only thing standing between him and a mental breakdown.

That’s a humorous exaggeration, of course. He also has his bonsai trees, which serve a similar function. He got his first around the same time he took up meditation, thinking it might just be a nice plant to set the ambiance, but as he started caring for it and cultivating it, it grew (pun not intended, how dare you?) into its own thing. He’s got lots of bonsais now and takes great deliberate care in their soil, their water, and meticulous pruning to keep them all growing healthy and strong and in exactly the way they should. There might be something to be said there about power and control and healthy, positive outlets to explore those needs, but for him they’re just his trees—his responsibility, his to keep alive, his to keep in line… And it’s nice to have plants in the house, they really add something to a space, don’t you think?

Something else he’s into that’s slightly more social is chess. He learned a lot about tactics and strategy during and in the lead-up to his reign, both from books and hard experience, and chess is a strategist’s game—all about studying the field of play and your opponent and thinking ahead to achieve your desired outcome. He started by playing against his brother, learning the game and gaining confidence, and then later against Toriel while he conspired to overthrow Undyne, which taught him more about thinking like a warrior monarch and how to strategize against one. Ever since, chess has been his preferred way to get to know someone and he finds the insight into a person’s thoughts (through their choices and idle conversation during the game) to be an invaluable asset. …It’s also somewhat fun, enriching he supposes, or else he probably wouldn’t keep so many chess sets in the house, or regularly go to the park to seek opponents at the public boards. But what business is that of yours?

Merc (Horrorswap Sans):

His physical…situation…is complicated. Until he gets his DT under control, he starts literally melting down whenever his emotions are too high which means that most of the things he would’ve done before for fun and exercise are out. His solution to that is yoga, a low-stress, low-impact way to stretch and move and keep his body functional, without the risk of upsetting himself and others by turning into a puddle! Going through the forms helps him focus his mind and ground him in his body at the same time, which he loves, and it’s something he can do solo or in a group, which is also great depending on his mood and need. He attends a studio at least semi-regularly, whenever there’s a class going on, and he loves it as a way to meet new people and socialize in a low-key way. Even after his melting problem gets sorted, he keeps the yoga as a part of his life and routine—it works for him, even when a lot of other things didn’t!

Escapism has also always been there for him: the sci-fi flavored genre specifically. He’s been in pretty dire need for distractions to take his mind off his condition and his frustratingly slow-going research, and fiction was a great fit, depictions of far-future times when technology is advanced but people are still people and the problems of today are all solved and done with—just the problems of tomorrow left to solve and there’s always hope somewhere out there in the universe. Yeah…he can use a little bit of that. Back Underground, he’d seen a few popular sci-fi series that managed to fall down—Star Trek, Star Wars, and a few others—but he falls back into it hard on the Surface when he discovers that the full collections are available, usually remastered and listed out in chronological order, and so many other fans to talk to about it, wow! And oh, the merch, so much merch… He’s only a mortal man, how is he meant to resist a phone case designed to look like a communicator from The Original Series? Or a replica of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s lightsaber? Or… Okay maybe he’s just enough of a nerd for it verge on a financial problem but he’s having fun, let him have this.

It's not like he’s not bringing in a paycheck, with his little home bakery business. He’s gotten serious about his baking and really ramped up his technical skill, and good flavor and texture is surely a way to keep a customer base, but he wanted to draw in the new customers and for that, he had to get good at decorating. As an amateur, he didn’t care so much if his frosting was a little messy, or really try to do anything at all beyond maybe some food coloring and sprinkles here and there, but in the interest of trying to elevate his business to the next level, he started experimenting more with design techniques—and he discovered he loves it! It takes a lot of skill and precision to execute on top-notch cake décor and he likes the challenge of learning something new and perfecting it until he’s ready to offer it as a technique to his customers. He’s the king of drip cakes, master of mirror glazes, and has the cleanest foil and luster work you will ever see. He’ll tackle geode cakes next, just you wait!

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus):

He used to hate spooky shit. Horror movies, ghost stories, creepy stuff meant to send a shiver up your spine and make your heart (if you have one) skip a couple beats—he couldn’t handle it and any hubris otherwise would leave him looking at pictures of kittens trying to forget about it so he could sleep. But then… Wouldn’t you know it, then he lived through a horror: a terrible creature from another world came to his sleepy little town and killed seemingly everybody they could find, and he survived but the world changed, and everyone went hungry, his best friend disappeared, his brother started melting and he almost died and then came back wrong… And now the fake spooky stuff doesn’t seem so bad. Actually it’s…kinda fun? Scary stories and creepypastas still freak him out, a little, but his tolerance for it has gone up considerably and now he seeks out the genre on purpose, to create and consume, because it feels a little good to get scared by something fake instead of all too real.

His new interest in horror turned him on to movies in general. Not that he didn’t like watching movies before, but being especially invested in a specific genre got him reading about analyses of themes and filming techniques, lighting and staging and all the behind-the-scenes choices made in casting and shooting, and he loves being able to point those things out. Watching a movie with him, any movie, will probably trigger a film-buff monologue about something—‘oh see that’s a long shot, they do that when they’re trying to…’, ‘that’s not cg by the way, it’s actually a matte painting and…’, ‘y’know that scene when he kicked the helmet, it turns out he…’ et cetera, et cetera. He’s not trying to be a bore or a know-it-all, he’s actually just really interested in the way all these things, choices or accidents, come together to make a movie and he can talk about it for ages…or complain about it, if it happens to be a crappy movie. He does so love to complain…

Throughout all of this, if his attention isn’t split by his laptop, he’s usually keeping his hands busy another way—with origami. He’s almost always got a lot of scrap paper lying around in reach and for lack of anything better to do, he’ll grab a piece and start folding it. He started screwing around with those notebook edges left over after you tear out a page, but those are messy and ran out of folds real quick, so eventually he looked up some deliberate things to make out of paper and even bought some origami paper specifically for practice and nicer looking results. He’s pretty good at hopping frogs and flapping cranes, and who can’t make a boat, but his go-to is definitely the little stars you make out of the long strips. He’s got a big jar of the stars and keeps making more to add to it, not for any reason, really, but…it’s fun to make ‘em and they look pretty so why not?

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans):

He’s a thrill-seeker. Not necessarily the death-defying stunt kind—though he cheated death once already and might be a bit cockier about his odds the next time around than he ought to be—but any thrill, even the cheap ones. He spent a lot of time Before hedging his bets and prioritizing just about everything but himself, and now he’s decided to spend the rest of his time doing the opposite, chasing excitements and novelties and things he was too cautious or restrained or just too spartan to go after. He seeks out new restaurants, trendy bars, relationships, activities, anything that catches his fancy at the moment. A lot of the things he tries out don’t stick, falling by the wayside after the luster of ‘exciting and new’ wears off—you really only need to try a PB&J burger the once, and if you’ve ridden one mechanical bull, you’ve ridden them all—but some things make an impression.

Boxing is one of the things that stuck for him. He always worked out to stay in good condition and it was a habit he kept up on the Surface, joining a local gym as soon as possible for access to the weights and the punching bag. Fisticuffs was a last resort for him when dealing with actual problems, but hitting things was a great way to blow off steam—and as repressed as he was, he had a lot of steam to blow off, so his form and footwork was always top-notch. He got noticed for it, invited to spar in the ring, and to keep a short story short, he loved it. It’s a challenge being blind in a fistfight, but in a very positive way for him, giving him a chance to use his reflexes and his soul-sense to take on his opponents and most of the time, win. It’s a visceral, almost primal pleasure for him to get to fight in a reasonably safe arena, with people who are also fighting for love of the sport and no aim to seriously injure or kill, like a dance but with someone who wants to knock you out and vice versa.

And speaking of dancing, he’s very fond of that as well for similar, yet less violent reasons. He doesn’t really dance solo, simply for joy of the music—his enjoyment is almost exclusively in the partnered activity, when he has someone to match steps and mirror movement with and combine his awareness of his body and theirs into a cohesive picture. He likes the give and take of it, the way that he can have a physical experience with someone, a conversation without a single word being spoken, all from movement and synchronicity with whoever’s signed his dance card. He knows a few formal dances already and hasn’t forgotten the steps so he’s well-prepared for a polite ballroom experience… but he’s also learned how to let his metaphorical hair down lately, and a bit of dirty dancing is hardly off the table, should his partner for the evening (or afternoon, morning, midnight) be so inclined.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus):

What happened Underground sent him into probably the worst art-block of his life. Even picking up a pen got hard to do with anything more than the intent to jot down a note for himself and he spent entirely too long with utterly dry wells of inspiration, not creating anything at all. In a desperate attempt to rekindle something creative, he ended up searching ‘art ideas’ online and discovered the vast world of craft projects. It was easier for him to actually make something when he had step-by-step guides and didn’t have to draw on his own (lacking) inspiration, and he quickly gained a liking for what he could make out of things he already had lying around the house and art supplies that were collecting dust—coffee-filter peonies, paper-straw wreaths, tin-can organizers, et cetera. He likes upcycling and getting to find use in things that might otherwise be discarded, and he really enjoys getting to put his own personal touch into crafts inspired from the internet.

He's proud enough of his works, in fact, that he wanted to show them off and—lacking real-life friends—he started posting photos of his crafts online. The response was positive but eventually, he started getting dissatisfied with the quality of the pictures he was taking, fuzzing details or altering colors, and he began looking into ways to improve the shots he was taking, lighting techniques, camera settings, angles and framing… By the time he invested in his own high-quality camera (and read the manual, front to back), he was seeing art everywhere, not just in the things he made but in the light through trees on a misty morning, in the waft of a curtain by an open window, in the people walking along the sidewalk out in front of the house. He has an eye-socket for it now and he’s always considering The Perfect Shot, how to capture the beautiful moments happening all the time with his photography. He’s good and getting better all the time, the more he practices his staging and editing.

He definitely wants to diversify his portfolio, though. Of course, he’s great at capturing domestic scenes, being a shut-in and all, but there’s more out there in the world, to see and photograph and be part of. It takes him awhile to get there but once he does, he’s very passionate about traveling. He spent such a long time stuck—first Underground, and then in his home on the Surface—and his scenery and his experiences were limited, but once he’s free there’s so much new and beautiful and exciting that he can access and he loves being able to pack up and go to it, right where it is. He wants to fill a passport and see unique vistas all over the globe, learn about cultures there, and make meaningful memories attached to every picture he takes.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans):

He likes stories, not the kind that come from a book, necessarily, but the stories people tell. The subject doesn’t matter to him much—folklore, local legends, big fish tales, ‘you’ll never believe what happened to me last week’s and more—it’s really the telling of it that he likes, how people describe what happened for an audience of their friends, family, or even strangers. He especially likes hearing the same story from different people to see how they tell it differently with their own perspectives or details that were unique to the version they heard. He’s always got a metaphorical ear open for a good yarn and a great memory for the stories people tell him, to the point that he can dispense them on cue whenever conversation’s slow, but he’s got plenty of his own experiences to make tales out of too, and the charisma and flair to make the telling entertaining.

This is a skill that comes majorly in handy for one of his other favorite hobbies, tabletop gaming. Whether he’s setting the scene for a D&D party he’s DMing for or keeping conversation going while he shuffles a deck for rummy, he loves having a table of people together to talk and play a game (or two, or three) with. It’s hard to get schedules to line up so he almost always has a few different game nights going on at any given time, in rotation depending on who can make what—and luckily, he’s a social butterfly so if someone cancels, getting substitutes to hang and make friends with over a game of something or other is never too difficult for him. He’ll go anywhere but his preference is hosting himself, he just loves having people over and showing them a good old fashioned time!

And speaking of old fashioned, his fashion is a little bit that as well. He’s a tad all over the place with it but nonetheless very interested in vintage and retro styles—the bold neon windbreakers of the 80s, the dated digital graphic tees of the 90s, the vinyl of the 00s, and even the holographics of the 10s. He tends to get a little confused about what was popular when and maybe that’s why he meshes it all together, but regardless, he loves his very eclectic wardrobe and adding to it. He makes a lot of trips to thrift stores and checks often on resale sites and gets very excited whenever he stumbles across a good find. Jackets are his favorite and he definitely has too many, but they spark joy and he’s probably not going to get rid of any or quit shopping around for more of the old school stuff anytime soon.

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus):

He likes scrapbooking! Maybe not too surprising, but as someone who mysteriously came into existence one day with no memory of his past, he doesn’t like the idea of losing memories—at least, not any more memories than he’s already apparently lost. He likes keeping records of things he does and that happen in his life as a tangible proof of his existence in and impact on the world. He stores things digitally as well but having the physical album feels weightier and more permanent, so he takes great care assembling and arranging everything in it. He keeps photos of outings with friends and coworkers, fliers from lectures he attends, even receipts from restaurants and movie ticket stubs. It’s all extremely well organized and annotated to the point that it almost reads like a scientific article, but he has fun with the cutting and pasting and aesthetic arrangement of it all—a neat and tidy accounting of (as much of) his life (as he can remember).

It's probably no coincidence that his scrapbook resembles a science journal, though, because he reads a lot of them. He also attends lectures and conferences when available and open to the public because, though he doesn’t have a career in any field of science, he’s still quite passionate about it! He loves learning about new advancements and discoveries, and when he comes across something he doesn’t know or only knows a bit about, he tends to do his own research into relevant readings on the topic until he’s better informed. He loathes misinformation and willful ignorance though, and as a result he’s ended up in a few small scale social media wars where he arrives on a post with thorough corrections, arguments, and sources cited and continues to present the accurate information until he’s respectfully acknowledged or blocked. It’s…usually the latter, but he doesn’t mind a good argument and ad hominem attacks slide right off him, so…as long as he’s having fun, what does it matter?

However…for all his love of truth and fact, he is also—regrettably—truly, madly, deeply compelled by the paranormal. If asked directly, he would say that of course he doesn’t believe in (non-monster) ghosts or aliens or the supernatural, there’s no evidence of such things! At least…nothing credible. He’s read the first and second-hand accounts, reviewed the blurry inconclusive photos, entertained hypotheticals of what could have really caused the sighting or scenario in question, accounting for variables and probing with his own questions to determine more information. He may occasionally be inclined to physically visit some ‘hot spots’ or sites of infamy, just to get a better understanding of the location and potential factors in what’s been claimed… But! Obviously, he’s a devil’s advocate in this only, as intriguing as some of these concepts are, that’s all they are—concepts. The fact that he spends so much time and thought on such things does not at all validate them and it simply means that he is a man of both integrity and science, the real kind!

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans):

He likes swimming! Er…well…maybe that’s not the right word for it. It’s not diving either, really, it’s… He likes going to bodies of water, walking in, and staying under for awhile, there, that’s a more accurate description of it. He’s waterproof and he doesn’t need to breathe, so ducking under the surface for a good few hours is not only possible, but a great way to get near-total peace and quiet for however long he wants it. He wasn’t much of a swimmer when he had an organic body, so it’s a bit of a novelty as well—seeing the way things look underwater, the way sounds change, the way animals swim around him in their natural habitat. He finds being in the water to be very relaxing and pleasant, almost meditative in nature, and whenever he’s feeling especially tense or in need of some space to think (or not think), he’ll head to the nearest body of water and go right in. It would be better if he actually took his clothes off before he did this, but he usually doesn’t and has weirded many clothes with lake or sea water.

He’s also into urban exploration. Not that he specifically calls it that, but he’s a wanderer and he likes to keep a low profile so sometimes, when he happens to be in the heart of a big city and there’s nowhere anonymous enough for him to blend in, he disappears into closed, abandoned, or condemned buildings. He likes the quiet of places like these and the reduced likelihood of running into anyone trying to interact with him because nobody else is supposed to be there. Obviously sometimes people are there anyway, but usually it’s people who mind their own business or actively avoid him, which he’s completely fine with. He does also enjoy having a look around when there’s time and he can, getting to see the remnants of the people who used the building before, what they left behind and imagining what it would be like if it were actively in use. A lot of the places he gets into have nice views of the city outside, too, and it’s pleasant to find a ledge or some rebar to sit on and enjoy it.

Jewelry making came out of his preferred hangout spots, as well. There’s a lot of junk lying around in abandoned or in-construction buildings—chain-link fences, washers, nuts and bolts—and when one is sitting around in an empty spot in the early morning, waiting for the city to wake up so he can slip through the masses undetected again, one gets to fiddling with nearby things in reach. He’s no master jeweler, his creations tend to be very simple, metal bent and twisted by hand in loops and curls, maybe a shape if he’s feeling ambitious, but he likes making them regardless. Sometimes he’ll keep an eye out for interesting stones and hold onto them to incorporate them into one of his pieces, or pick up a bit of nicer wire to work with if he’s going to be passing through a more rural area where it won’t be so easily available. He never keeps the rings and necklaces and bracelets he makes, though, just leaving them on tables and benches and railings for someone else to find later. It’s the making that’s the important part to him, he doesn’t need the thing.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus):

He’s a proud and passionate DJ for partiers everywhere! He kind of fell into it, or at least into the idea of it when figuring out how to approach humanity and be a part of it, and he learned that it’s quite common for musical artists to have gimmicks that hide their real faces and identities. It seemed like it’d be easy to blend in, in a crowd like that, and when he found out about vocaloids and holographic performers he was all but sold on giving it a go. It didn’t take him long to learn how to mix songs and with a theoretically infinite track list to draw on, he’s a natural talent at playing the crowd and keeping the energy in a room high. He loves DJing for nightclubs and raves the most, but he’s starting to gain a bit of fame and notoriety for both his talent and his very advanced ‘avatar’ and might end up dropping some of his own music and playing to larger venues sooner than later.

In his spare time, of which he has a lot, he likes the challenge of hunting down lost media. He has full access to the internet as well as several archives he probably should not have access to, but it’s very hard to keep him out of anywhere he wants to be—luckily, he chooses to use his nigh unfathomable power for good, digging around here, there, and everywhere for things deleted, destroyed, or locked off from the public. It’s like a treasure hunt, following leads and connecting clues until he finds the impossible thing he’s looking for…or doesn’t. Sometimes things that are gone really are gone, but other times it’s just that no one else had the spare time and resources to try and excavate a mention of a grandmother’s VHS copy of an obscure, out of circulation film on a deleted forum post from ten years ago, track down the user, ask after the tape and offer to purchase it to convert to a digital format…and if that doesn’t pan out, the search begins anew! How exciting!

His do-gooding doesn’t end at tracking and restoring old tapes, though, and he likes to spare some time for bigger acts of justice now and again. He’s a part-time hacktivist—he takes note of ongoing crime and corruption in human society and when he can, he shines a light on it. Leaking emails, posting blacklisted videos, releasing incriminating financial records, he has little respect for the privacy of crooked CEOs and corrupt politicians and feels it’s only right that their customers and constituents know these things about the people they’re supporting. His intervention tends to lead to a lot of resignations and restructuring and legal action being pursued, so he tries not to overstep too much with the business of humans, especially not for any old small-fry in the pond…but the big fish, the guys in the news with allegations that don’t stick because of money lack of evidence… Well, he doesn’t mind digging up that evidence, if the proper authorities really lack the time for it—you’re welcome!

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans):

He’s very into spiritualism and all things mystical. His brush with the cosmically unknowable really expanded his perception and sense of things around him and he’s freshly fascinated by the things in this world beyond mortal comprehension, things he’s only glimpsed and felt more than he clearly understood. He loves reading or hearing about other peoples’ spiritual experiences—near-deaths, out-of-body’s, energies sensed and presences felt and many more—being let into the perspective of others who have been through things not easily explained and maybe getting a chance to share his own oddities in the process. He collects a lot of paraphernalia from the people and places he goes for these things, chakra bracelets, dreamcatchers, crystal pyramids and the like. He freely admits some of his items have stronger energies than others and theorizes that belief and intention in the creation of the object has an effect, you see the aura of this one feels—you get the idea, he could talk about it for hours.

He's also a very big fan of riddles! He knew a few before but has really gotten into them since, diving down the rabbit hole of riddles and tricky word puzzles. He finds the construction of them incredibly interesting, how specific words are chosen and phrases are structured to talk around the answer, carefully ringing around it to imply only and make the listener deduce the truth around its absence—just like how black holes are discovered by observing the warping of space around it! He has lots of riddle books and knows the answers to most of the basic ones out there, and he’s always open to hearing new ones, as well as coming up with some of his own from time to time. He takes his riddling quite seriously and will never look up the answer or allow anyone to tell him before he guesses—he wants to reason it out for himself, even if it takes him days to do it. If you manage to stump him, expect a call later on with the solution and exuberant praise for the gift you gave him!

A far more pedestrian and down-to-earth hobby of his, however, is pottery. Riddling and talking about the cosmos is all well and good, but it’s difficult actually meeting people to do those with—they don’t really have meet-ups for those sorts of things. But! They do have pottery classes, all over the place, welcoming beginners who are generally also open to making friends there, and he decided to go where the people were. It’s probably not something he would’ve been as happy doing before…Everything, reining in the urge to be great at it first try and do clean, neat work to impress people… but he doesn’t really think that way anymore, so he likes it! It's messy and mistakes are easy to make, both on the wheel and in the kiln, but that’s life and he’s learning same as everyone else. He gets to socialize, he gets to make stuff out of clay, and he gets so very many pots and mugs and bowls to give his friends and loved ones—a win-win-win!

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus):

He never used to put much effort into his wardrobe. He was anxious and introverted and never wanted to stand out too much, so he always aimed for under, rather than over-dressed. …But things changed. He’s more confident, he wants to stand out, he wants to look his best and dress himself in all the nice clothes he always thought he wasn’t cool enough to wear—so now, he does. He keeps his eye-socket on modern fashion trends, subscribing to magazines and tuning in to designer runways so he always knows what’s in and can coordinate his wardrobe accordingly. He's not necessarily a brand snob, he doesn’t subscribe to the idea that clothes (and accessories) need a label to look good, but at the same time, he won’t compromise on quality and sometimes that means paying for it. Still, he has a lot of fun keeping in style and taking more care in how he presents himself, and it turns into something of a confidence feedback loop—feeling good because he looks good because he feels good because…

With his newfound confidence, he’s also gotten into the habit of singing out loud. He hums tunes every now and again, surely everyone does, but now he sings, sometimes softly and sometimes belting out lyrics at full volume to whatever song floats through his head. What can he say? He’s started to like the sound of his own voice and it makes him feel good to hear how he sounds, and to feel how freely and beautifully the notes come out. Maybe it’s a little prideful but he doesn’t see the harm in making music and feeling good about it, so he sings when he’s occupied, when he’s idle, when he’s asked to—no special occasion necessary save for the joy of sound.

Of course, this also gives him something in common with some of his favorite creatures on the planet: birds. He likes animals and tends to be great with them—especially if he happens to use his ‘trick’—but he’s particularly fond of the feathered ones and the pretty sounds they make. He started learning how to mimic bird-calls (now that he’s not too self-conscious to feel stupid about it) and found he has a talent for it, getting all kinds of flighted friends to stop by and sing back when he chirps. He knows a lot of calls and can identify most local bird species by sound and sight, and it’s a favored party trick of his to push a little intent into his whistles and get wild birds to land on his finger like they were trained. He’s actually looking to break into falconry too, so he can keep and train a raptor someday, but there’s a lot of training and regulation involved in that sport and he’s not in any special kind of hurry. Plenty of birds to watch and sing to and play with in the meantime!

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans):

He’s been on his own for quite awhile. Granted, most of that time was unconscious in a semi-lucid dream-state, but that still left him pretty bereft of any meaningful company for a long damn time. He’s a social guy, he’s gotta make some connections with people at some point or it’s just gonna feed into his main character syndrome, so he starts getting involved in competitive team activities pretty much as soon as possible. At first it’s gaming—multiplayers, with mic enabled of course—when he’s still building his physical health back up, but once he’s clear for it he’s joining up with just about every team sport he can find. The Surface has plenty of options for him to choose from. Paintball? Definitely, get ready to meet your maker. Go-karting? Can’t believe it took so long to ask, let’s go. Axe-throwing? Oh hell yes, you know it! He’s competitive but a mostly good loser and hardly sore winner, so whatever the game he’s all in, just happy to be able to play.

When he’s solo and not actively burning energy, he…probably should be. He overproduces magic like a sonuvabitch, and if he’s not using it, that’s a problem—for him and everyone and everything around him. If he’s lacking something to do with his energy, and no other ways to expend it, the easiest thing to do is make a bunch of bullets. This, naturally, solves one problem while creating another and out of the abundance of bones lying around the place came the elegant solution of building with them. He uses his bone bullets like some (frat house) people use beer cans, stacking them together to make thrones chairs, tables, and towers. Sometimes he’ll jenga these structures, knock ‘em down to reuse the bullets for something else, but sometimes, if he's managed to stack up something particularly impressive, he’ll put in the extra effort to make them structurally sound and keep them as-is.

For all that he’s good at building things up, he takes just as much pleasure in taking them apart. He likes working with his hands, always has, opening something up and poking around inside to figure out what goes on in there. Unfortunately, and he’ll never admit as much out loud, he is…not very strong, physically—the big stuff, heavy duty machinery that takes a decent amount of elbow grease to get into is…a little bit beyond his ability, at least comfortably. By default, that leaves him with the little stuff to tinker with, clocks and watches, TVs and blenders, anything he can get his hands on and pop open without too much work. Clockwork mechanisms are his favorites to work with, the very tangible cause and effect of motion inside, but he’s no slouch with a soldering iron and more fiddly electronics are hardly any trouble. He likes fixing stuff that’s broken but it doesn’t have to be for him to want to disassemble something in working order, just for a quick look. Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing, he’ll put it right back—possibly in better condition than when he found it!

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus):

He has difficulty finding hobbies for himself, at first. Doing things he enjoys—much less expressing that he enjoyed them—was both forbidden and dangerous, so he’s in unexplored territory without explicit orders to do or not do something. Undyne gets him started with puzzles after noticing that he seemed to like solving them for her on patrols. A jigsaw seems as good as anything to start with, right? Well… yes, very much so, because he loves the medium instantly. One obvious solution (to assemble the pieces into a picture), no time constraint, and no way to do it incorrectly? It’s perfect! He graduates quickly from small, simple jigsaws to large, complex ones and loves being able to sit down with a few thousand pieces and slowly, steadily arrange them the way they’re supposed to be. He was given a massive, single-color monolith of a jigsaw once, as a joke…which completely didn’t land because it only took him a bit longer than usual and he loved it just as much. Go figure.

His brother gave him another hobby, upon remembering that he used to (as a toddler) like scribbling on paper, and gifted him a color-by-number book. It was a little juvenile, involved considerably less problem-solving than puzzles, but that’s really not a bad thing for him, giving him a task to do by rote that appeals to his creative side rather than the militaristic orders he got until that point. Eventually, as he gains independence and starts to feel more comfortable making choices of his own, he ditches the ‘by-number’ part but sticks with coloring, using watercolors and colored pencils to fill in pages of designs with whatever he wants. He finds it very relaxing and satisfying to do, and with encouragement even frames some of the pieces he’s proudest of. Friends and family may expect to receive them as gifts, especially if they’ve complimented one in particular—it’ll be theirs in short order without a second thought.

His most consuming hobby, however, is one he came to on his own: the care and keeping of fish. His first was a betta, a bright red fighting fish, drooping and still in a tiny little cup on a shelf—an impulse purchase he’d be hard-pressed to explain, especially with no animal experience whatsoever, much less specifically fish. But, he did it, and after that it was his responsibility to care for it, so he put in the research to determine its needs, the size of the tank, the pH balance of the water, the food and feeding schedule, environmental enrichment… It was a lot of work getting everything together but the reward in seeing the sad lifeless betta turn bright and active, thriving in the home he’d built for it, that was an addictive feeling. It wasn’t long until he was setting up more tanks, and buying lots more aquatic critters—tetras, cichlids, snails, guppies—to fill them with. He’s an extremely diligent and dedicated fish-dad and likes to sit and watch them swim the way some people watch TV.

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans):

He knows his way around a needle and thread. He learned to sew out of pride necessity, learning to mend ripped and worn garments rather than having to beg for new on his or his brother’s behalf. It started as the lesser of two evils for him, but eventually he grew to enjoy it—work, of course, to have to close holes and hem and take in this and that, but work that he was generally left alone to do and not bothered for other things. It’s still that, but now that he doesn’t have a panopticon of a mocking prick judging his every action, he’s branching out into a bit more personal flair. He tried felting, with…poor results…but embroidery and needlepoint is working out considerably better. He’s still not especially creative so he prefers to work off patterns rather than freehand anything, and most of the things he stitches aren’t exactly to his own personal style, so a lot of his work gets donated but some things end up on the wall, others as patches for bags and jackets… It’s something to do.

…Making booze is also something to do. He didn’t exactly see it coming, something he kind of fell into. Per his brother’s preference, they’ve made their home in a wooded, mountainous area, and per his own preference, it’s secluded, a ways away from the town proper. Grocery runs every time there’s no more alcohol in the house (because somebody had company over and left a thimble in the bottle without telling anyone) is irritating, especially if he’s just getting home late and nowhere nearby is even open. A lot of locals get around the problem by simply brewing, fermenting, or distilling their own, and after looking into the process, he decided it was more than doable. He’s not much of a beer-drinker and never bothered with that, but he makes some damn good fruit wines if he says so himself, and a moonshine that’ll knock you on your ass if you’re not careful. His little operation is technically illegal—his favorite kind of illegal—but it's all for private use and he keeps to himself when he’s in town so he’s flying pretty low beneath the radar.

He is out of town a lot, mostly for work purposes, and passing through unfamiliar towns on the regular exposed him to quite a lot of postcard kiosks. He would look at them, think about his semi-estranged brother back home and how weird it would be, with their relationship being what it is, to call or text just to say ‘hey’ and… Well, eventually he bought one, scribbled a curt (coded) message on it, and sent it home before he could think better of it. Neither of them ever said anything about it, but he found it later on his desk when he got home with a scrawled reply back to what he’d written, and it kind of just spiraled into a thing from there. Anytime he goes somewhere, he finds a place to pick up a postcard to mail back, and when he gets home he tucks it (and the inevitable addition onto it) away in a binder for safekeeping. He takes a lot of care in the choosing and preservation of these cards and has a sizeable, growing collection.

Hunter (Swapfell Fruition Papyrus):

He’s a runner. There’s almost nothing he likes more than getting outside and taking off, jogging full speed to nowhere in particular until he’s out of breath and covered in sweat. He was cooped up for a long time in between specific missions and keeping pace on a treadmill just can’t compare to the free feeling he gets when he’s completely off-leash and can just go, as fast and as far as he wants to. Sometimes he’ll spice up his runs with a bit of parkour, clearing obstacles or scaling trees to take the branches for awhile, but he’s happy as long as he gets to let loose—sky above him, earth below, and nothing to call him back but his own limitations when he’s totally exhausted or he decides to be done.

For similar reasons, he’s interested in foraging. He likes nature and the outdoors, prefers it to anything indoors bar none, and the longer he can spend out in it without having to make his way back to civilization, the better. So, he started learning about the plants he sees—what’s edible, what’s not, what’s poisonous versus medicinal and so on. A lot of the info about it is geared towards humans rather than bioengineered skeletons so there’s still a learning curve, and a lot of things he's taken it upon himself to test out. He was built with a high metabolism and some natural poison resistance so he’s too cocky to be stopped from doing it, really, no matter how many times he’s called a reckless idiot for touching and ingesting possibly harmful substances. He's made a lot of interesting discoveries with regards to the local flora and only hardly gotten sick about it, so he counts it as a win.

He keeps track of said discoveries in his journal, which he takes out with him whenever he leaves the house for a nature walk (or run). He likes having it handy to note down things he does throughout the day, places he goes, things he sees… He never really got into art, not the way he could’ve, if things had been different, but he can scratch out some decent sketches to fill in the margins of his journal—the path down to the stream he found, the deer that only shed one antler, that berry that definitely did not agree with his metaphorical stomach, do not try again… His memory isn’t bad, exactly, but his mind and feet are both prone to wandering so it’s nice to have a log of his activities to look over later and put together things he missed at the time, or be reminded of stuff he wants to revisit. Most of his journaling is done halfway up a tree, sprawled along a branch with half an eye-socket on the view from up high.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans):

He wasn’t especially interested in plants or flowers, at least not until one started altering him—and the rest of monsterkind—in mind and body. That’s when he got interested and started studying. First the echo flower, its strange properties nearest and dearest to him, but gradually branching out to golden flowers, forevergreens, water sausages, any magical plant he can get his hands on to examine. Non-magical plants are equally fascinating, especially in their potential effects on humans—he knows probably an unsettling amount of flowers and greenery that are toxic to humans, the symptoms caused by contact or ingestion and how long it takes them to appear. Thankfully, he’s not much for the care and keeping of plants as keeping things alive seems like an awful lot of work. Still, he finds them interesting and has lots of botany and anthology books lying around, with leaves and petals dried and pressed between their pages. Did you know that the echo flower’s bioluminescence remains for up to three years after the bloom’s been clipped? Fascinating stuff.

Less of a passion but still at least an idle hobby, he can play a bit of piano. He’s self-taught—plunking out keys on the piano in Waterfall while passing through to entertain himself (and a little bit to annoy Undyne)—but though he can’t read sheet music or play any full length songs, he can tickle out a short tune by sound once he’s heard it at least once. He’s got a good ear for notes, despite not having any actual ears. It may actually be some kind of perfect pitch thing going on in his head but he should not be informed of this ever because he will hang on the word ‘perfect’ and be utterly insufferable about it. Mostly, he just uses this to play a few random notes whenever he comes across a keyed instrument, or to abruptly switch to an impromptu recreation of iconic horror scores to catch people by surprise. The theme from Halloween or the tubular bells from The Exorcist are favorites, but he’s unpredictable enough to learn more if you turn your back on him too long.

What he probably spends the most time on, however, is quilting. Perhaps a bit surprising, with his…everything else about him, but he’s a skeleton who values his creature comforts quite a bit, many of which have been made considerably more difficult for him to enjoy due to the ways his body has changed. In this particular case, it’s his reduced physical sensation making it nearly impossible to feel warm. He’s never cold anymore, not really, but he’s never warm either and he takes that quite personally, almost offended by the uselessness of thin clothing and scraps that dare to call themselves blankets. If there are no blankets thick enough and heavy enough get him warm, he’ll just have to make them himself…and so that’s what he does. Any passingly usable cloth in his possession tends to end up part of a quilt, with little care for patterning or overall design—his only priority is thick and heavy and warm, and if he doesn’t feel like he’s in a panini press by the time he’s finished, then it’s back to the drawing board.

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus):

He maybe went a little bit nuts for awhile there after the human first left. Some might argue that he’s still a little bit nuts but he would agree he was pretty embarrassingly desperate in the first few years after. They were gone and they weren’t answering their phone and for everything they’d done, they had been his friend so…he was worried! But of course, monsters were trapped, with hope of leaving anytime soon soundly dashed, so he couldn’t just go look for them. He wanted to reach them, or just someone on the Surface who could relay a message. That’s how he started experimenting with radio, out of a misguided and impossible attempt to communicate out of the Underground with someone up there. He never reached anyone from down there, of course, but he found some comfort in trying—and eventually, enjoyment too! He likes fiddling with the equipment to tune into different frequencies, and the sound of empty static is soothing to him. It’s a lot more fun now that he’s aboveground and can actually hear other people, and he hopes to get his license to transmit himself soon!

Before the Surface, though, things were a little lonelier for him. Colder, darker. Too dark entirely—of course a dark environment was necessary to promote the growth of their staple crop and the artificial day-cycles were only making monsters waste more time sleeping than they already were, he understood the need for the dark…but surely, it didn’t have to be so complete? How was anyone to know that he was at home and available to host company if there were no warm, inviting lights in the window? Candles seemed the perfect solution, natural light from flickering fires that wasn’t too harsh, still a bit dim but plenty to see by! He started just collecting them so he would always have them on hand if needed, but eventually started making them himself with wax on the stove. Scent or color don’t matter much to him, but he really likes being able to customize the size and shape to his needs. And his needs…aren’t so much anymore, now that there’s regular sunlight, but candles are still great for when there isn’t, and when electric lights are little too intense. It never hurts to have more candles around, for emergencies!

He's also exploring a new hobby up on the surface, inspired by his and his brother’s new careers—bone collecting! Now, it’s not what you’re thinking, he’s not after human bones. Those are still very much in use by the deceased, and he's sure surviving loved ones would be very cross if tried to just take them! But his job was how he learned that humans and other organic, non-magical creatures all contain skeletons of their own and when they die everything but the bone rots away. He thinks it’s very cool and obviously humans are off the table to inspect more closely, but animals don’t mind. He takes note of any dead creatures he happens to find—mostly birds and squirrels—and after allowing the other local wildlife to have first pick at it, he collects the remains to take home. He isn’t overly fond of the smells and textures of rot and asked for his brother to help with the de-fleshing and degreasing with the first few things he brought back, but he's got a handle on it now and loves to artfully display his cleaned finds all around the house. Skulls are his favorite, but he has some lovely wishbones and plenty of vertebrae that he’s equally proud of showing off!

[thisisxli]

are you able to write gojo x elsa? Their a cross-ship i rlly like. Scenario can be anything you think would fit for them (ex. sparring (fluff), coffee dates, first date, first kiss, etc.) their just some stupid silly ship I enjoy ‼️

Of course! Those two are a FAV, they give off the same vibe tbh, literally untouchable. Super cute! I didn't really know what to write so I came up with headcannons that I think would suit them! I hope that's okay and that you or anyone enjoys this!

Also here's a cute/funny picture I found:

Gojo Satoru x Elsa headcannons

Rs: Satoru Gojo x Elsa Arendelle

Warnings: none but slight mentions of drowning and shares of traumatic experiences

wc: 1.1k

First impressions

Attractive in each other's eyes.

Gojo was absolutely appalled when he sensed zero cursed energy from Elsa. He even thought she was a curse herself, considering her ice powers. So he was almost very cautious around her at first.

They met each other on the day after Thanksgiving when he took his first and second year students to go ice-skating.(he did not know Elsa caused the lake to be ice.) Ice-skating was kind of his thing, he liked the cold. So when he saw the lake frozen of ice, he had to go on it. It wasn't like he couldn't feel the cold, but he withstands it without any complaints.

Elsa's first impression was that she thought he was a threat too. She was sort of surprised when Gojo easily made his way past through her ice powers. She was internally freaking out- he was untouchable! And not the 'untouchable' energy that she holds, he was literally quite untouchable.

How they got together

Give them a couple of months to warm up and they were practically besties. Except Gojo always seemed like he was flirting; obviously, Elsa is quick to play the same game. He's the one who catches feelings first, Elsa was quite literally very hard to sway. Gojo was lucky they were pretty similar and attractive.

First Date

Their first date was taken place at the same frozen lake, except this time she wasn't the one that froze it.

He even had her(willingly) make a snow-cone for him. He didn't have one of those flavor squirting things so he just ate it with nothing, just pure snow. Elsa had one of the hardest laughs at that.

How they connect emotionally

They both almost share the same situation. They both held such immense power that it scared others and that others relied on.

Gojo tells Elsa about the time he had to kill his best friend. Elsa tells Gojo about the time her sister completely turned into ice because of her magic-doings. They spoil each other with soft kisses and cold cuddles for their past traumatic experiences.

Elsa can tell when Gojo is upset, when somebody says a back-handed comment or says anything offensively about her or his students. His smile drops sometimes or he tries his best to prevent anything bad happening to Elsa or his students.

Gojo can tell Elsa gets upset when she doesn't have her way or somebody hurts the people she loves. She desperately tries to help and save everybody; they both have a mutual understanding of what it means to be the 'strongest.'

Kisses

Gojo gets every moment and chance to kiss Elsa, especially on her cold cheeks against his warm lips.

He's a gentleman, for goodness sakes. He kisses her hands and the crown of her head. He immediately bowed and almost started kissing her feet when she told him she was royalty.

She's not super open about kissing, but from time to time, she does leave lingering kisses on his cheek or letting frost cross over to his lips a little bit. She laughs every time his lips get stuck together.

First Kiss/First 'I love you'

Kissing for the first time, Elsa was pretty nervous. Gojo wasn't sure how to feel because even he himself never kissed before.(as attractive as he was, he doesn't associate himself around many woman despite posing for them in public. At least that was before he met Elsa.)

They were both coming from a date that had them walking around in the park and drinking warm coffee with a tint of mint. Spring was soon to be near and the snow was melting but the cold air still lingered. They were on a bridge, staring at the slowly setting sun. "We better get back," Elsa chuckles, turning her back on Gojo before nearly spilling her drink when he grasps onto her arm abruptly. She cocks a brow at him, her arm reaching behind her head to move her braid over her shoulder. "I love you, Elsa," Gojo mutters, a smokey puff of gas leaving past his lips. Elsa stares at him in bewilderment before shaking her head lightly, "where is all this coming from? Satoru?" He inched closer to her until they were barely a feet apart. Elsa's heart was pounding in her chest. Even in the cold, her cheeks felt hot and so did Gojo's. Hesitantly, she murmurs as she reaches for his lips, his own meeting her halfway, "I love you too."

Meeting each other's family members

Anna didn't really know what to think of Gojo at first; just that he was any other pretty boy with a weird personality that shared unfunny dad jokes. Almost like Hans. So she was welcoming, but rather awkward and careful. So Elsa could only assume Anna didn't really approve of him at first. Anna was very persistent on her opinion until she saw how happy Gojo made Elsa and decided that she was going to treat him like a brother from now on. (Soon-to-be brother-in law very soon, Anna thinks.)

Gojo didn't really want Elsa to meet his actual family members. It wasn't like he was on bad terms with them. But it felt abnormal to even be associated with them.

So he had Elsa meet Yuuta! Yuuta was shy at first but he openly greeted her kindly. Yuuta immediately accepted her and was very fond of her, he liked how someone was able to bear and surround themselves with Gojo's antics. And he was happy Gojo met someone he could confide in, that she wasn't some sorcerer that relied on him because 'he was the strongest.'

Hugs/cuddles

Gojo is very clingy when it comes to Elsa. He loved how her skin felt nice amongst his own. His body radiated a warmth that everyone craved when it was cold and Elsa radiated the coldness that everyone craved when it was hot. It was like they were made for each other(quite literally.)

Gojo loves to come up to her from behind and slide his arms around her waist. Elsa would get caught off guard, blushing but she wouldn't mind or do anything about it. Elsa loves to wrap her arms around his waist, feeling his arms go over her body made her feel safe and secure.

Their limbs will literally tangle themselves together in bed. They were always asleep when they cuddled. Someone would always catch them in any position that involved cuddling, it would always touch their hearts because how cute they utterly were.

Things they like about each other

Gojo loves Elsa's hair. He's either playing with it or putting it up in a hairstyle, none in between.

Loves to hold his hands. Elsa knows about his infinity and one night in deep thought, she realized he turns it off around her. (He's just really comfortable with her so sometimes he doesn't even realize it.) She thinks it's super sweet, it makes her feel warm so she holds his hands every chance she gets.

Fun Fact

Her magical horse: the water element, does not like Gojo and once tried to drown him in the same ocean it nearly drowned Elsa in.

In the future, they do in fact, get married.

Was very fun to write. -thisisxliᰔᩚ