#I really think the next game will be in sync with our time

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Even When the Night Changes

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: through injuries, breaks, and time everything changed, but not your love for each other.

Inspired by: One Direction’s Night Changes

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @shikaizer

Final Four Weekend – 2025, Tampa

Time moves fast.

Like, really fast.

One second I’m walking into Hopkins as the new girl after switching schools following my parents’ divorce—the product of my dad screwing his secretary—and the next, I’m lacing up my sneakers in a hotel room in Tampa, Florida, with my girlfriend of nearly a decade lying beside me.

Paige Bueckers.

My Paige.

And we’re here. The 2025 NCAA Championship game. Our final run as teammates.

And I don’t know if I’m ready to say goodbye.

The Night Before – April 5th, 2025 – Hotel Room, Tampa

After we beat UCLA in the Final Four, everything around me felt like static. Cheers, confetti, handshakes—it all blurred. The only thing I remembered clearly was Paige. The way she ran to me on the court, grinning so hard her eyes crinkled.

And now we were back in our room, everyone else out celebrating with staff and family. But us? We needed quiet.

I sat at the edge of the hotel bed, towel still around my neck, staring at my swollen ankle and the scar on my left knee. One ACL gone freshman year. The other, junior year. A broken foot my senior year. Rehab had become a second sport.

Paige sat across from me, still in her warmups. Her hair damp from her postgame shower, skin glowing in the soft lamplight. Her eyes were on me—like they always were.

“Do you realize,” I whispered, “this is our last night before our last game together?”

Her smile dropped slowly. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

I laughed, but it came out shaky. “Feels like we blinked. One second, we’re 15 and sneaking kisses behind the gym. Next, we’re champs bound.”

She crossed the room and knelt between my legs, resting her head against my good knee. “You remember when we said we’d play together in college?”

I nodded. “Everyone thought it was just a pipe dream.”

“But we did it,” she whispered. “Despite the injuries. Despite the breakups. Despite everything.”

My fingers tangled in her hair. “You never gave up on me.”

She looked up at me, blue eyes filled with quiet love. “How could I? You never stopped fighting.”

I didn’t realize I was crying until her thumb wiped a tear from my cheek.

Morning of the Championship Game – April 6th, 2025 – 6:00 a.m.

We woke up two hours before the rest of the team. Maybe it was nerves. Maybe it was fate.

I shifted under the covers, my back pressed to her chest, her arm snug around my waist.

“You awake?” she whispered, her voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah,” I whispered back.

Neither of us moved for a while. Just laid there, hearts syncing.

“Win or lose today…” I started.

“Don’t,” she cut in gently, tightening her grip.

“I need to say it, Paige. Win or lose, this is it. Our last game. Our last warm-up together. Last tunnel walk. Last jump ball.”

She turned me in her arms, forehead resting against mine. “I’ve been trying not to think about that. But yeah. You’re right.”

“I’m gonna miss this,” I admitted. “Us. On the court. In the trenches together.”

Paige nodded, swallowing hard. “But I’m not done being in your corner. This isn’t goodbye.”

We stared at each other. My thumb brushed along her jaw, memorizing her in the golden light.

“I love you,” I said, voice breaking.

She kissed me softly. “I love you more.”

Game Day – 3:23 p.m. Tip-Off

We had warmed up together, same as always. Same as we had since we were 13.

I shot corner threes while she practiced her handles. She passed me a bounce pass, and I flicked it in without thinking. We moved like a machine. Like we were made for this.

Coach Geno’s voice echoed from the bench. “Let’s finish what we started.”

The arena roared. And we locked pinkies for a moment before taking the floor, four our final tip off together.

UConn vs. South Carolina – 2025 NCAA Championship

We destroyed them. 82–59.

Paige was on fire—17 points, 6 rebounds, 3 assists. But more than that, she was locked in. Focused. Fierce. Everything a leader should be.

Me? I gave everything. My body, my mind, my soul. This wasn’t just a game. This was our game.

With 1:32 left in the fourth quarter, Coach Geno called for her.

The crowd rose.

Paige turned toward the bench, chest heaving. She touched her heart, then jogged over. First, she hugged Coach. Then every single one of our teammates.

I stood last in the line.

She looked at me, eyes swimming. I couldn’t breathe.

She pulled me in, arms wrapped so tight I nearly folded.

“I’ll always be proud of you,” she whispered against my neck. “Always.”

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” I whispered back, tears slipping free.

We pulled back just enough to do our special handshake—one we made back in 10th grade. It looked ridiculous, but to us, it meant everything.

Coach Geno held the trophy high. Paige, the team and I stood just behind him, her hands resting lightly on my waists.

The confetti came down like a dream.

“This is what we worked for,” she said into my ear.

“No,” I whispered, brushing her cheek. “This—you and me—that’s what I worked for.”

Cutting the Net

We took turns. Paige climbed the ladder second to last. Snipped a piece, smiled for the cameras. But when she turned, her eyes searched for mine.

I climbed last of the team. Heart pounding.

When I snipped my piece and turned around, she was waiting at the bottom of the ladder, arms open.

I leapt.

Later That Night – Back at the Hotel

The celebration was wild. But Paige and I found ourselves on the balcony again, together.

Stars overhead. The moon lighting up her skin.

“Everything we dreamed of,” I whispered, leaning against her. “It’s real.”

“But it’s disappearing when we wake up,” she said softly.

I glanced at her. “But nothing will change me and you, right?”

Her eyes met mine.

“Never.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[haikyu-mp4]

An Olympic medal in pettiness – Oikawa x reader wc 757 – gn!reader, brother!Kageyama

It took your brother a long time to come to terms with the fact that you married Oikawa Toru. The years you spent rekindling your sibling bond with him were worth it, though, and you were happy to have him visit your family in Argentina. After all, your son was becoming a big fan of his uncle, even though he didn’t visit often.

“Uncle T!” the boy squealed, catapulting himself into the setter’s arms the second he had put his bag down in the hallway.

Tobio grabbed him with an oomf and put him on his hip, and the bright look in his eyes was a marvel to witness. “Hey there, Spiderman.”

You gave him a side hug and a simple greeting, asking about his flight and everything, until Oikawa eventually came through the door. He had picked your brother up from the airport and had to park the car before coming inside.

It would be a lie to say that the tension between those two had dissipated after all these years, but at least they were civil and found interesting conversation topics in their different countries’ leagues and eventual international games.

The first day ended with Kageyama heading to bed almost as early as your son after such a long day of travelling. Before bed, he had spent some time learning about little Oikawa, which came with a promise of playing volleyball in the yard the next day.

That morning, you pulled Oikawa out of bed to make breakfast. “You get the eggs,” you commanded, kissing his cheek and continuing to set the table with everything else. “I need you to be especially mindful of my brother today, love.”

He looked at you like you insulted him, pointer finger pushed into his chest. “Me? I’m being an angel!”

You snorted and shook your head. “You’re being nice, but who knows what happens when you get out there. Please remember that our son might want to bond more with Tobio today, and it’s okay if you lose on purpose now and then.” 

“Forgive me if I think he has more to learn from me, I’m just saying.”

Rolling up a kitchen towel with practiced precision, you flicked it to smack his ass with it. You giggled as he glanced angrily between you and the eggs that he had to keep watching so they wouldn’t burn.

“I’ll get you for that!”

At lunch, they were all jittery at the thought of playing later, your son telling all about his training and how he hoped to become a starter when he went to middle school. He also raved about his other uncle, Shoyo, who visited from Brazil once in a while, admitting that the ninja was his favourite player even though he wasn’t a setter.

When the sun had settled a bit lower in the sky, Oikawa and Kageyama made their way outside, one carrying your son and the other a volleyball. You trailed behind them, smiling at the heartwarming scene but slightly worried for what was to come.

“Uncle T, I saw you setting for Sho at the Olympics. You have to teach me how to set like you!”

Oikawa looked at your son in pure betrayal, then at you for some mental support. You held up one fist and lip-synced ‘stay strong’ for dramatic effect.

“Are there any shrimps like him on your team?” Tobio asked, not catching Oikawa’s emotions at all.

“Not really.”

“Then I don’t think your uncle knows anything I can’t teach you,” Oikawa quickly said with a petty smile, not letting Tobio finish his thought. This time, he didn’t turn to you, already aware that he did exactly what he wasn’t supposed to.

Tobio frowned, stopping as they reached the little net. “So that’s how it is.”

Oikawa put your son down and shrugged. “What can I say? One of us won the Olympics, and it wasn’t Ninja Shoyo.”

While they quarrelled, you decided to cheer for your son instead, as he seemed to ignore both of them to go for a spike serve. You clapped excitedly as he hit it like his dad taught him, then cheered even louder when the ball hit Oikawa square in the head.

As the older man stumbled back from the surprise impact, Tobio turned to your son and gave him a thumbs up. “Good power, but that one was definitely out. I’ll teach you.”

Your son had them both wrapped around his finger and would be getting all the coaching he wanted and more, that’s for sure.

masterlist

requested by @toge-maki for my event, anything for you <3 BIG thanks to @cottonlemonade for helping me with the plot!!

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

You are not poison here (and you never really were)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral, no use of y/n)

length: 1.6k

genre: fluff, comfort for the hurt

warnings: slytherin reader, quidditch player reader, bestie peter is back, good feels all around

a/n: the promised happy ending of Is there hope in us, still? (is there something worth believing in?)

You're already in the Great Hall when they come down for breakfast, Peter chatting animatedly with them while Sirius sulks behind, his hands shoved in his pockets. James and Remus don't have to think about slowing their pace to match his - it's second nature, at this point, to be so in sync.

James stutters to a stop in the entryway though, Peter slamming into him and making some quip about James needing to turn his break lights on if he's going to keep doing that. James isn't really listening to him, though, his eyes trained on where you're sitting at the Slytherin table, shoving Evan Rosier lovingly while he laughs.

"Oh," Peter says when he follows James's gaze. "That's nice, isn't it?" Remus smiles and bumps his shoulder against Pete's. Even Sirius looks towards you, leaning slightly as if he's being pulled in your direction. James puts his hand on Sirius's shoulder gently, slowly, walking with him to the Gryffindor table.

"Maybe they'll come and join us, yea?" He says gently, but he recognizes the long-suffering look in Sirius's eyes. You're getting better. You're getting better but it's not with them. It's not with him. Maybe the only thing you needed was to be somewhere he's not.

Sirius, thankfully, doesn't get much further than that, his spiralling making his legs heavy as he sits down with the others, Peter on his left while James and Remus sit across from them. Peter slides a plate towards him and Sirius wishes desperately that he was a better person.

You're standing up from your table as they sit down, though, clapping Evan on the back as you leave. Sirius finds himself holding his breath as you slide into the seat next to him, ruffling Peter's hair on your way past and letting a small smile grace your lips as he grumbles and smoothes through the mussed strands with his fingers. Sirius thinks maybe if he doesn't move, maybe if he doesn't breathe, you won't notice him - won't notice the damage he does to himself and others, the poison that leaches from him and spills out.

But you just smile at him, a tentative, unpracticed sort of thing, and he exhales deeply and lets his shoulders drop while you turn to greet the others as well. Your leg brushes Sirius's under the table and someone cracks a joke he half hears and he thinks maybe there's something other than venom running through his veins - maybe there has to be for him to have something as good as this.

"Rosie thinks he and I should get some extra practice in before the first game of the season - you know, just to make sure we beat Gryffindor again." Your voice doesn't have quite it's usual haughty, teasing lilt, but getting closer, and James lets out an unflattering sound of betrayal at your words.

"Again?" He says indignantly. "We've beat you lot our fair share of times, alright? And besides, you two cheat." He says it loudly enough that your fellow beater can hear from the Slytherin table, Evan turning to glare at James while you huff out an almost laugh. The sound is enough to make them all soften, Remus smiling at you gently as Sirius stares. Maybe, he thinks, there is hope in me after all.

The steps are slow, after that, but they are steps nonetheless. Another small smile, another quiet laugh - another bit of weight lifted off James's lungs, another whisper of insecurity silenced in Remus's mind. The two of them are lounging in the common room, Remus trying desperately to finish his essay while James talks about god knows what, when you and Sirius come in. He's got a scowl on his face, stomping across the floor as you clamber in after him, talking desperately. 

"You are so wrong about this, Sirius," you say breathlessly, willing yourself to keep up with his long strides as he marches up the stairs to his dorm. "This is a bad idea - You know it is. No, don't look at me like that, just listen -"

The sound trails off as you disappear up the winding staircase and James, now silent, looks at Remus with a pout. Remus just smiles quietly in response - they both know what this is about. 

Sirius comes back downstairs with his arms full of records, thumping the stack down on one of the common room tables and sorting through them. You stand opposite him, arms crossed and nose turned up.

"This party is going to suck because you have horrible taste in music -" Sirius makes a wounded sport of noise at your accusation and places a hand over his heart.

"Horrible taste? That's not what you said when we were in Moony's bed the other -"

"Alright!" You announce. Remus has looked up at the two of you with mild amusement and James doesn't even attempt to hide his laugh. "Not always. But this time, you do - this time, it's music for the first Gryffindor party of the new school year. Is this what you want everyone to remember from it?" You pick up a record, making a bemused face that they all know is just for show. "Your weird music?"

"Snakes don't get opinions on Gryffindor parties, doll," he says as he snatches it back from you. "And just because you insist on playing the Bee Gees at every Slytherin party doesn't mean we have to follow suit."

"Do not say anything about the Bee Gees. I swear to god, I'll…" You watch him sort another record into the yes pile and your mouth drops open. "Anyway, we're together. Your reputation is my reputation. James faceplanted off his broom last week and people have been doubting my quidditch skills ever since."

"Not to mention doubting our taste in partners after seeing it," Remus adds. You smile triumphantly as James slides off the couch and onto the floor dramatically, burying his face into a pillow. Your joy is interrupted, however, by Sirius apparently being finished with his sorting, hauling the no pile into his arms and moving to bring them back upstairs. You make an indignant, panicked noise as you snatch a record off the table and chase after, him, stepping over James so that you can clamber over the back of the couch.

"No, I'm serious -"

"No, I am." Sirius doesn't break stride as he begins up the staircase again.

"I'm just saying - Waterloo? Really? Because Angel Eyes is such a good song and it's obviously better and - what? Don't look at me like that. I mean, if you're going to play ABBA, you might as well play a good one and -" Your voice trails off up the stairs again while James peaks out from under his pillow.

"Come back up here, love." Remus pats the space next to him on the couch, his eyes still focused on his essay. James spends a great deal of time grumbling and whining about the humiliation of it all, insisting that his fall in that quidditch game wasn't even that bad. By the time he's climbing into his lap, disrupting Remus from his studying as he plants himself firmly in the boy's field of vision, you and Sirius are coming back downstairs.

You sit on the other end of the couch, your pout prominent as Sirius dips down to press a kiss to your cheek, one hand raking through his now disheveled hair.

"You forgot to fix your tie after," James says cheerily, his face smushed against Remus's neck.

"You're one to talk," you grumble, reaching up to fix your tie, nonetheless. You don't get very far, though, as Sirius plants himself next to you, rearranging you so that your legs are thrown over his lap before he bats your hands away. 

"We're all finished with classes for the day, lovely, you might as well take it off," he says as he loosens your tie until the knot comes undone, throwing it over one of his shoulders, instead. His one tie is nowhere to be found, the collar of his shirt hanging comfortably with the first two buttons popped open.

"Careful, Sirius." You poke at his cheek and he snaps his teeth at your finger playfully. "Someone might think you're in the wrong house if you go around with those colours on display. They might get the wrong idea about you."

"Well," he sighs, throwing his arm across the back of the couch so that he can smooth a hand over Remus's hair before settling his fingers at the base of his neck. "Your reputation is my reputation, pretty thing. It's probably a little too late to worry about people thinking the wrong things."

He grins as he says it, a pretty sort of look flashing across his face that has you leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek before you let your forehead rest against his shoulder. He smooths the hand that isn't preoccupied with Remus's hair down your back and James reaches forward to trace idle shapes over Sirius's thigh.

There's a silence that overtakes you all then, a comfort that blankets you as you quiet down. Remus, his hand rubbing up and down James's back as he leans his head into Sirius's touch - his hands helping, his soul healing. James, pressed as much as he can against the people he loves - the desperation to make it all right quelled by the love that sits so prominently in his chest.

And then there's Sirius, safe and whole and pressing a kiss to your forehead while you relax against him. There's a peace that overtakes the two of you, something kind and gentle that feels a lot like hope. A stability feels a lot like love.

[euphoricdr3ams]

Untitled (4/?)

A simple game night turns into something deeper when Y/N loses more than just rounds of Smash Bros. With each defeat, the pressure of perfection, family wounds, and fear of being left behind start to unravel her. But Felix sees through it all — past the jokes, past the anger — and refuses to let her spiral alone.

genres: written, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst,unrequited love, senior year (highschool), felix and Y/N are aged up to 17, pre-debut,

Trigger Warning: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Protected Sex, Cursing, Underaged Drinking

Word count: 5,615

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

You set up Smash Bros next. Same old rules — loser takes a shot. Several rounds in, and it's loss after loss. Each one stings more than the last, a sick kind of symbolism that’s hitting a little too close right now. You take a deep breath, aware of Felix watching you quietly, sensing the way your sanity is starting to fray at the edges. But your frustration is peaking — not just with the game, but everything. Your mom. Your future. Your dad. The growing fear that Nana, Gramps, Hana, Faith, your friends — even Felix — might all leave you behind. Just like Kirby flying off-screen in sudden death. Gone. No warning.

It’s all too much. You want to be great, but your fingers aren’t syncing with your mind. You’re here, but you’re not.

And you snap.

You throw your controller and hits the wall with a loud, sharp crack.

“I can’t get anything right. Fuck—of course. The permanent disappointment.”

Felix freezes, wide-eyed. You’ve rage quit before — but this? This was different.

“We should take a break,” he says softly, putting down his controller and turning off the TV.

“No, it’s fine,” you say quickly. You footsteps are heavy as you go to pick up the Gamecube controller on the other side of the room. “It has to be fine. Let’s go again—”

“Y/N,” he interrupts, voice firmer this time. He grabs the controller out of your hands and puts it on the table. “Is that really what you want? Is that really how you feel about yourself?”

You freeze. Your jaw tightens as you struggle to come up with an answer. Truthfully, you don’t think much of yourself at all. Some days, you feel invisible. Other days, you’re convinced you’re too much — too loud, too lost, too messy to be loved the way you need. Today? You just feel like a failure. Ugly, unmotivated, disgusting. A mistake your father never really wanted.

Felix shifts closer.

“Be real with me,” he says, scooting closer. “I know you like to be perfect for everyone. But it’s me. I don’t need you to be perfect. I need you to be you.”

His hand finds yours, thumb tracing soft, steady circles. You don’t even realize how hard you’ve been gripping him until the ache in your fingers sets in. Slowly, the tension in your body begins to release. Your shoulders drop. Your breath evens out.

The shame spiral fades — but in its place comes something quieter. Heavier.

Emptiness.

And something inside you finally breaks.

Maybe it’s the dim lighting. Maybe it’s the drinks. Or maybe it’s just him — the quiet steadiness of him.

Your eyes burn. Tears swell.

“We don’t have time for this,” you whisper, voice cracking. “We won’t have many nights like this anymore. I don’t want all our memories to be about whatever’s falling apart in my life again. So yeah — let’s just have fun.”

But Felix doesn’t move away.

“We won’t have many nights like this anymore,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “where we can be completely open... and trust that the other person actually sees us. Cares without some ulterior motive.”

He squeezes your hand gently.

“I’m leaning into this. Because this? This is precious to me.”

You let the single tear fall.

“I… I’m okay. I promise. Just—today was rough,” you say, trying to hold your breath steady. “You’d think I’d stop expecting something different, but it’s always the same. Every time.”

Felix’s voice cuts through the room like a knife. “What did he say?”

There’s a disgust in his tone that makes your head lift slightly, startled—but not surprised. He already knew.

Of course he did.

Felix had never liked your dad. Not since he bailed on your art show right after your mom passed. Not since he remarried and acted like you were just an awkward footnote in his shiny new family.

Felix never understood why you still cared. Why did you keep trying? Why did you hold out hope that one day, maybe, he'd look at you and see someone worth rooting for.

But he never said much. He held his tongue. For you.

Because he knew that, no matter how broken the man left you feeling, his approval still meant something. Still hurt to go without.

Still mattered.

Felix exhaled, his jaw tense, like he was chewing on the rage behind his teeth. “You know,” he said, quieter now, “you remind me of Jasmine sometimes. From Aladdin.”

You blink at him, confused.

“Because one day,” he continues, “I know you’re gonna look that man in the eye and tell him exactly what he deserves to hear. And when you do? It’s gonna be legendary.”

“I actually have a picture of me and Mom meeting her,” you say softly, your voice thick with the weight of memory. “I wish I could go back. I miss her so much.”

Felix doesn’t respond with words — just inches closer and pulls you into his arms.

His hug is quiet but solid. Grounding. You don’t try to fight it. You just let yourself fall into the stillness. Curled up with him on the couch, the world finally goes quiet. So does your mind.

He plays with your curls — the ones he’s always loved. He wished your wore them out more often — and traces soft lines up and down your arms.

For a moment, nothing exists except the sound of your quiet crying and the unspoken truth sitting heavy in the room.

“I know,” he says gently. “It must’ve been awful. Him being so dismissive of something that was literally made for her. I’m sorry. You deserved better than that. You always will. And no matter what happens—” he hesitates, “I’m not going to leave you.”

“I know,” you whisper. Then, with a watery laugh: “That’s why I didn’t wanna cry, but you did this to me.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, lips twitching at your joke. “Yeah, well. You needed to cry. You can’t keep carrying all this on your own.”

The warmth in his gaze, the closeness of his hand still resting on your back, the soft lighting — everything about this moment feels fragile and fleeting. Like something borrowed from a dream.

So you take the leap.

You lean in, your lips brushing against his, unsure if it’s the comfort, the pain, the alcohol, or just you — finally wanting something for yourself.

Felix doesn’t hesitate. He kisses you back like it’s the only thing that makes sense in the chaos of the moment. Like he’s been waiting.

And for a second, it’s easy to forget everything else.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, brushing your fingers under your eyes. “That was random.”

Felix lets out a soft laugh, but there's something tender in his eyes — something a little sad. He wishes you hadn’t pulled away from the weight of the moment, but he gets it. You’ve always had a habit of diversion. 

“I actually got you something today,” you say quickly, standing up and fumbling with your phone to put some music on the speakers — something easy, something nostalgic.

He tilts his head. “What? You got me something?”

You disappear for a moment and come back with a small box  in your hand. You sit beside him again and carefully place the compass in his palm.

“It’s a compass,” you explain. “And on the back… it has our names, and the coordinates of the game club where we first met.”

Felix’s fingers run over the engraving, his jaw tight. You watch his face shift — the quiet recognition in his eyes, the weight of everything left unsaid crashing into the present.

He doesn’t say anything at first.

You almost speak again, try to fill the silence, but he finally breathes out, voice a little shaky, “This is… this is probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever given me.”

He pulls you into a hug — tight, warm, a little desperate — like he wants to press pause on time.

When he pulls back, he holds your hands in his, thumbs brushing lightly over your knuckles. “I’m serious,” he says, looking straight at you. “I’ll hold onto this forever. And I want you to know… I know a lot’s going to change soon, but I’m not going to leave you behind. I care about you, Y/N. So much.”

Your smile softens, and without even thinking, you lift your pinky and tap his hand twice — the little hand sign you both made back on the playground, years ago, when you promised you’d never stop being friends no matter what.

Felix swallows hard, a flicker of something else in his eyes — like he wants to say more. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he whispers, “You always know how to make me feel like I’m home.”

And silently, he’s screaming at himself for not being brave enough to tell you the truth.

You both switch into your PJs, laughing and joking as you finish your third bottle of soju. Somewhere between the laughter and the warmth of the room, you start to reflect — on Hana’s words, on Felix’s presence, on how he’s always been there. Safe. Supportive. A quiet constant in your life. You’re only just beginning to realize how much that means to you.

Felix slips the compass into his bag while you keep the energy light. Something about getting those feelings out earlier seems to have shifted something. Now you’re giggling over UNO, working through your fourth bottle of soju, and everything feels easy again. Comforting.

Felix can feel the change too. He notices how your once-frozen demeanor has melted into soft laughter, lit up by the spark in his own eyes. It’s all so simple, and the words you said earlier — “we don’t have many more nights like this” — echo in his head. He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure, knowing the next move will end the game. He doesn’t want any of this to end.

You see the draw four card staring back at you. You stick your tongue out and laugh wickedly.

“What?” Felix furrows his brow.

“You see the cards. Pick up the four.” You smirk, already feeling your win coming.

Felix sticks his tongue back out at you, getting ready for his fake victory lap — only for his face to drop as you slam your own draw four on top of his.

“Pick up eight,” you cackle, full-on belly laughing until tears roll down your face.

“I don’t wanna play anymore,” Felix groans, but he’s laughing too. Your chest hurts from how hard you’re laughing. You stumble up and walk toward the room, only to see a text from Faith:

Bestiiiieeee: Hey are y’all coming rrrrrrrrr nahhhhh?

You call out, “Did you still wanna go to that party Faith is hosting?” Secretly hoping he says no.

While Felix usually lives for a good party — any chance to show off his social butterfly charm — he looks up and sees how at ease you are, curls perfectly resting, cheeks flushed from laughter, and the room so warm and familiar. He tosses logic aside and leans into the moment.

“Nah, I’m good. Unless you wanna go… but considering you’re, like, two steps from your room, I don’t think you’re heading in there to change into a backyard party outfit.”

“I mean, I could. We’re young, wild, and free.” You sway a little, tipsy. “Let’s not be boring!”

“It’s 45 degrees outside. And raining.”

“Oh, no. F*** that. I’m putting on my PJs.”

Felix laughs — full, easy laughter. He thought he’d have to convince you to stay in, but of course not. That’s why this works. That’s why you’re close. You know each other.

You grab your phone and reply to Faith:

Y/N: Heyyyy I'm gonna passss, Felix and I are hanging at Nana's for the night. I think he's gonna stayyyy???

Bestiiiieeee: o.000 ohhhhhhh ok. He’s been around a lot more. You sure there’s nothing going on?

Y/N: ewwwwww it’s Lix, don’t play like that

Bestiiiieeee: lmaooooo sureeee. Y’all be safe please 😉 I’ll call you sometime this weekend for the recap.

As you're changing, you can’t help but feel the rush creeping in—first from Faith’s not-so-subtle text, then from your own spiraling thoughts. It’s the same flutter you felt when Hana brought it up weeks ago. Felix is your friend. There's no reason to escalate things… but lately, things with him have felt so much more intense.

You wonder, Is there really ever a right moment? Or a right person? Maybe it’s just about the feeling. And right now, Felix feels like the right guy.

You slip on your nightshirt and shorts and walk back out to hand him the set of clothes he keeps over. Then you duck back into the hallway to give him a little privacy.

While he changes, Felix glances around your room—your real room—and takes in all the things that scream you. Your creativity is on display across every wall: photos, sketches, concert tickets, quotes you scribbled in the corner of a mirror. His eyes land on a picture of the two of you from two summers ago, laughing in the middle of some inside joke. It all feels warmer now. Different.

He tries to keep it together, but it’s getting harder. His feelings for you have been complicated for a while now—something about the way you trust him, how you move through the world together like it’s the most natural thing. Somewhere along the line, he realized he probably has a crush on you. And now, it’s a war in his head: should he say something, or keep pretending it’s nothing?

His thoughts are interrupted when you come back in, slightly tipsy, flopping dramatically onto the bed with a giggle. It’s all so cute. So fucking cute to him.

He slides under the sheets beside you, the air between you growing heavier.

Maybe it’s the drinks. Maybe it’s the silence. But instead of grabbing a pillow, you reach for Felix.

And he lets you.

Your body fits perfectly against his, like a puzzle you’ve both been quietly avoiding. He strokes your curls gently, carefully, like you might shatter if he touched too hard. His gaze lingers—on the crescent shape your eyes make when you laugh, the way your skin glows in the low light, how your lips look soft and impossibly kissable.

He tries to keep his eyes respectful, he really does—but then they drift lower.

The swell of your chest rises and falls, steady and slow. Not too much. Not too little. Just enough to fill his hand.

Or his mouth, a reckless voice whispers in his head.

Felix blinks, trying to shake the thought, but it lingers. Sticky. Dangerous.

The room feels too warm. The R&B music playing through the speaker pulls him back to the present, grounding him just enough to remember: You’re his friend. Not his girlfriend. No matter how blurry things have gotten. No matter how many stolen kisses you’ve shared when the alcohol makes everything feel softer, easier.

He inhales slowly. Tries to focus on the beat. The rhythm of your breath.

But it doesn’t help.

Because in the quiet, everything he’s trying to push down gets louder.

His fingers drift across your arm, careful and slow. And suddenly, something in you clicks. 

“Hey,” you say softly, “do you remember that convo we had the other day?”

He shifts gaze now fully on yours. “What convo?”

“The one about sex.”

Felix sits up slightly, more alert. “Yeah. Not exactly our usual topic, so… yeah, I remember.”

You study his face, the comfort of his presence, the familiar tension that’s grown too obvious to ignore. “Are you still down?”

He blinks. “When?”

You roll your eyes. He knows what you mean. He knows.

“Now.”

Felix swallows, hard. “Seriously?”

You nod, not breaking eye contact. “Yeah. I trust you more than I trust anyone else. And with everything you’ve been for me lately i am, I just… I want it to be with someone I care about deeply, you know?”

He stays quiet for a beat. Then—“Yeah,” he says softly. “I care about you so much. And if you’re okay with it… I want to show you that.”

“I am.”

You lean in, and your lips meet.

The kiss starts soft—sweet, careful, like a question. But this time, you don’t pull away. And this time, Felix doesn’t hold back.

You pause only for breath, eyes fluttering open just long enough to catch the flicker of something in his expression. Like wonder. Like hunger. And then he kisses you again, deeper this time, cupping your face like you might disappear if he lets go.

It builds slowly, deliberately, with every stroke of his thumb and graze of his lips. He’s studying you, adjusting, learning. The room feels warmer—your skin, flushed. His touch, reverent.

You think you open your mouth to take in air, but instead, a soft, involuntary moan slips out—so full, so unfiltered it surprises even you.

And that? That’s when Felix completely loses it. The last shred of self-control he was holding onto vanishes.

“Sorry—” you start, embarrassed.

“Don’t be,” he cuts in, voice low and wrecked. “That was so hot. Let me make you do it again.”

He kisses you again, and your hands find their way under his shirt. His skin is soft, warm, and firm beneath your fingertips—his “idol” body slowly coming in, carved and perfect. Your hands are everywhere at once, chasing sensation, craving closeness.

Your moans get louder, less controlled. Felix has one hand on your cheek, the other somehow slipping under your shirt. You don’t even know when it happened, but you don’t care. Not when he’s making you feel this good.

“Fuck,” you whimper as he begins to kiss your neck, lifting your shirt just enough to see your hardened nipples.

He takes one into his mouth, and your body arches. It’s heaven. He teases one side with his tongue, then circles to the other with slow, calculated movements. Gentle. No biting. Just pressure. Pleasure. He’s clearly done his research—and tonight, he’s praying it works.

Because all he wants to hear is you. Your sweet, broken moans.

He pauses just long enough to flash you a smug little smirk.

You roll your eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs playfully, grinning. “Just nice to know,I know how to make you feel good.”

There’s something about the way he says it. Something about this moment. It feels natural. Meant to be.

“You wanna keep going?” he asks, fingers now tugging lightly at the tie on your shorts. He leans close, whispering the words into your ear—and you can feel just how hard he is under his sweatpants.

A soft kiss lands on your neck, and you let out a breathy, “Yes.”

Felix doesn’t waste time. He undoes the drawstring of your shorts and slips his hand inside. His fingers slide through your slick warmth, and he groans.

“Fuck… you’re so wet.”

“Well,” you whisper, teasing, “whose fault is that?”

You want to keep playing the game—hold onto your cool—but he starts rubbing slow, purposeful circles on your clit, and it’s getting harder to keep up the boss-girl facade he’s already dismantling.

“Mine,” he mutters. “Keep going. I wanna drown in you right now.”

He increases the pressure just slightly, just enough to make your hips buck. You bite your lip, grasping for any sort of release from the overwhelming tension building inside you.

Every inch of you is buzzing, unraveling.

“Fuck. Oh my god.”

You pull his shirt down, needing him closer, needing him to kiss you again. He obliges, lips warm against yours, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“Can I push in now?”

“Please.”

Felix starts with just his index finger, watching your reaction closely. He's tipsy, but his focus is all on you. He doesn't want to mess this up. He knows how important this moment is.

He waits for any sign of discomfort, but instead, you let out a frustrated little moan. “More,” you whine. It's too gentle—it’s not enough.

He chuckles, amused. “No problem.”

At some point, your shorts have disappeared. You didn’t even feel him take them off. Now, he slips two fingers inside you, pumping them slowly. Your wetness is spilling over, coating his fingers, and he’s mesmerized. Your pussy is pulsing in front of him and he just stares, captivated.

It’s one thing to see it in porn. This? This is different. It’s real, and it’s beautiful.

“You sound so sexy,” he murmurs, eyes still fixed on you. “I just wanna see how you taste once. I know it’s gonna be so good.”

“Then don’t have me waiting, Yongbok. Fuck. Oh my god—”

He gives your clit one single, teasing kiss.

“MMMHMMM, God,” you cry out.

You taste like heaven, like sugar and sin, and now it’s all over. Felix goes in with his tongue, licking and sucking like he hasn’t eaten in days. You grab at his hair, pulling it back so you can see him. He’s worshipping you—your pussy, your moans, your body—and it’s so fucking hot you can barely breathe.

He pauses for just a moment, lifting his head for air.

“You okay down there?” you manage between your ragged breaths.

“I’m amazing. How are you?” he says smugly, using his fingers to spread you open again, going right back in like he’s got a mission to finish. And he does: making you cum on his tongue.

You thank the universe that no one else is home. The sounds you're making are downright obscene. But he doesn’t care. It’s perfect.

“Hmm? I didn’t get an answer,” he teases.

“Mhh… Memreurwurbw—”

“What was that?” He grins, still teasing.

“Miehreiheanfemfan—” you mumble again, before he slips his fingers back inside you, cutting your words off completely.

You're grinding down onto his hand, and the noises between your bodies are wet, sticky, loud. His tongue swirls just right, sucking your clit into his mouth at the exact angle that makes your toes curl. You feel your climax coming, fast and overwhelming. Your thighs start to shake.

He doesn’t stop. Not even for a second. And then—you break. Your back arches. Your moans are loud, unfiltered. You come undone completely, pulsing on his tongue, breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a cry.

When you look down at him, he’s got that same smug look again, eyes twinkling with pride.

He chuckles. “I don’t know what that sound was. Is that code for thank you?”

You shoot him a look, still breathless. “Lix… fuck you.”

You try to sound annoyed, but you’re laughing. You don’t want to admit it, but he did exactly what he set out to do.

You sit up slightly, reaching into the drawer beside you and pulling out the condoms Hana left behind. You shake your head with a tiny smile. Of course she knew.

He catches you grinning. “What?”

“Nothing. Just… she’s gonna be so smug.”

Your eyes drift to his sweatpants—and yeah, that’s definitely a tent. Your breath catches when you realize just how big he is. You let out a small, nervous laugh.

He raises an eyebrow. “What? Does my dick look weird?”

“No. I’m just shocked you’re that big.”

He laughs, pulling you closer. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

You hand him the condom, but your fingers linger. Instead of giving it to him right away, you shift, leaning down slightly. You start to play with it in your hands, teasing, before gently wrapping your hand around him. He props himself up on his elbows, eyes fluttering shut as you start to stroke him.

And then—you take him into your mouth.

You gather some extra spit, let it drip, and go even deeper, humming around him.

“Ufrhugjmgri—fuck, babe—aihfiefm—”

Felix’s words are broken, scrambled. He knows he probably shouldn’t be calling you babe… but fuck it. This moment? It’s unreal. You, with that sharp mouth of yours, now using it for the exact opposite of arguing—giving him the kind of pleasure he’s only dreamed about.

His dick is throbbing, hard and alive, pulsing against your tongue. You can feel his heartbeat in it.

You pull back slightly, looking up at him. “Am I doing this right?”You’re nervous. His moans were softer than expected, more fragile than filthy, and you weren’t sure what that meant.

But he reaches out and cups your cheek, his cock still warm in your mouth. “Yes,” he breathes. “You’re doing so good.”

He gathers your curls in his hands, gently pulling them out of the way so he can see your face. “Keep going, babe.”

Something about the praise—his voice, his eyes, his touch—it sends a jolt of confidence through you. You suck him deeper, bobbing your head, working him with your tongue and lips. His moans are getting louder, more desperate. He’s not holding back anymore. They’re raw, animalistic—like he'd give you anything you asked for in this moment.

He grips the sheets with one hand, your hair with the other. His abs tense. His hips jerk slightly forward.

But then, just as he’s getting close, he pulls you off him, breathless. “I’m gonna cum if you keep that up any longer.”

You watch as he tears open the condom wrapper, sliding it down over his length with practiced hands. He climbs over you and gently adjusts your position, making sure you’re comfortable on the bed. A pillow under your head. A kiss on your lips. And then—his fingers again. Just to make sure you’re ready. He stretches you gently, watching you.

When he pulls his fingers out, he looks you dead in the eyes.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. No second-guessing.

Your body, your mind, your soul—everything wants him right now. And nothing's going to stop that.

He slips inside your wet folds, slowly. Your eyes widen. He’s… bigger than the dildo you tried once during a moment of curiosity. But thicker too. It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but his fingers are on your clit, rubbing slowly, easing you into it.

“Fuck—oh my god,” you gasp, clutching the bedsheets. Your moans break up your breath, and before you even realize it, he’s fully inside you.

“You okay?”

“Yes. Move.”

Felix starts with slow thrusts, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. But all he sees is how your body’s reacting—how wet you are, how your moans grow messier, louder, more desperate with every stroke. Your pussy tightens around him, clenching so sweetly he swears he might black out.

You’re sending him. Every little sound you make is burning into his brain. And you look unreal—so beautiful like this, taking him, wanting him.

“F-fuck yes,” he pants. He finds a rhythm that syncs with the beat of the song playing in the background, and it drives him insane.

“Please… more.” He smirks.

You’re slipping around him so easily, soaking the sheets beneath you. The headboard is knocking against the wall. You’re perfect. The way you take him is perfect.

“Shit,” he groans. “You’re so perfect. Tell me—how am I doing? Tell me how you want me. I’ll do anything for this body. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Deeper.”

He pushes in further, slowing his thrusts so you feel everything—every inch, every vein dragging against your walls.

“Like that?”

You try to respond, but it’s just a string of sounds, breathless and broken.

“Huh?” he teases, thrusting deeper. “Use your words. How do you want me to make you cum?”

“it’s so good. Shit.”

“Flip over. I’ll make it even better.”

Before you can process, he’s bent you over the mattress. Your ass in the air, hair gently adjusted by him using the mirror nearby. He slides back in and grabs your waist, thrusting so deep that all you can say is:

“Yes, please. Oh my god. More.”

He lifts your head so you’re looking at your reflection. “Look at yourself. It’s beautiful.” He kisses you again. “My perfect view.”

You can feel it building—your orgasm, rising fast. The music, the bed, the heat, all of it blurring together. That spot he keeps hitting? It’s going to push you over the edge any second now.

“Shit, I’m—” Your words crash into a moan.

Your ass is clapping against him, the bed creaking under the pressure. He could fuck you through the mattress and neither of you would care. The moment’s too hot. Too real.

He pulls out again, flips you onto your back, and stares into your eyes as he sinks back in. This time, his thrusts are fast, erratic—hungry.

“Lix” you gasp. “I think I’m gonna.”

Felix kisses you, shifts his angle just slightly—and that’s it. Your moan rips out of your throat, full of need, full of surrender.

“Fuck yeah, babe,” he groans. “Cum on my dick. I know you can.”

His fingers rub your clit while his lips kiss your neck, dragging you closer and closer.

“Shit—oh my god—”

You come harder than you ever have. Your body trembles, your voice catches, and for a second, nothing else exists.

He’s still moving, still inside you, whispering praises.

“Perfect. You’re so perfect. So wet. So cute. So fucking nasty.”

His thrusts get sloppy, his moans lower, drawn out. You’re touching him everywhere—his hair, his back, his chest—pulling him closer.

Then he grunts, his cock throbbing, and you feel the heat of his release pumping into the condom. He collapses gently against you, both of you breathless.

He pulls out slowly, and you glance at the condom, giggling. It's full.

“Wow.”

“Yeah… You okay?” he asks, eyes soft now.

You nod, still catching your breath. “Yeah. I’m amazing. That was… amazing. Thank you, Felix.”

He grins, brushing your hair from your face. “It was everything I’ve ever wanted. Thank you, Y/N.”

Felix kisses you and walks off to the bathroom. You follow not long after, taking your turn to clean up, still buzzing from the afterglow. When you step back into the room, he’s already back in his sweats, shirtless, hair a little messy from your hands. He’s looking at the starry light display on the ceiling, face soft and unreadable in the dim glow.

You glance around for your clothes.

“It’s here,” he says, quietly, holding up your shirt and shorts.

You chuckle, padding over to him. “Thanks.”

You dress in silence, but it’s not awkward. Just... full. Heavy with something neither of you are quite ready to name. You crawl into bed beside him, both of you lying on your backs now, watching the stars dance across the ceiling. The silence feels sacred. Safe.

“It’s two a.m.,” you murmur. “We should sleep.”

“Yeah,” he says. But he doesn’t close his eyes.

A few beats pass, and then, “Y/N, I won’t ever leave you. Thank you. You mean everything to me.”

You turn toward him, your heart expanding all at once. You smile, a sleepy, emotional sort of grin.

“I know... and thanks. It was perfect. I’m so glad it was you.”

Felix leans over to kiss you — slow, gentle, a promise he can’t put into words. And as he pulls back, his eyes linger on yours like he’s trying to memorize this version of you: soft and safe, curled into his side like it’s where you belong.

At the edge of his tongue is the confession he’s been holding in for weeks. The truth that could shift everything between you.

But it stays there, stuck, buried behind fear and the countdown he can’t ignore. He glances at the clock again. The date. Only two months left until he has to leave. 

His chest tightens.

What if this is the best it ever gets?

What if saying it makes it real—and makes it end?

So instead, he kisses the top of your head. Pretends the ache in his throat is just from being tired. He tells himself this is enough. That even if this doesn't turn into something more, he’ll always have this night. This feeling. You.

You, tangled in his sheets with the galaxy reflecting off your skin.

You, whispering “I’m so glad it was you” like he’s more than just a person in your story—you’re glad it was him.

And you — you’re lying there with the happiest ache in your chest, tracing little shapes on his stomach with your fingers. Your heart feels too full to hold. You don’t even know what you’re holding onto so tightly, but you’ve never felt more wanted. More safe. More understood.

For once, you don’t need to overthink anything.

You just let yourself exist in it. In him.

You don’t know what will happen tomorrow. But right now, the boy beside you is everything, and your last thought before sleep is simple.

______________________________________________________

Author's Note: Lol i hope y'all like <3, Please let me know what u think

[reyesstrand]

wish you would write a fic of tarlos where marjan and joe’s wedding is set about the time carlos is due to go back to work, he’s recovered from his gunshot wound, he’s had his stitches out, he’s been cleared for active duty by his doctor and he’s prepared as much as he can for jonah’s adoption placement with him and tk (right, like it’s a carlos one shot so it focuses entirely on him because we saw literally nothing of him, bar crumbs in the episode)

Carlos can’t sleep.

It feels a little bit like his body’s talking back at him, suddenly a petulant child. A game of mess around and find out, since he spent months pushing himself to the limit even if it cost him sunlight, or nutrition, or something more than a handful of hours of sleep a night. Because here he is, at almost three in the morning, blinking up at the ceiling, tracing the faint veins of the plaster with his eyes.

He goes back to work in two days. It’s been nearly a month of doctor’s appointments and physical therapy; of allowing himself to find joy, again: in the simple pleasures of cooking lavish breakfasts, in getting coffee and scouring flea markets with his mom, in game nights with the friends he’s missed like limbs, in TK. They dance in the kitchen, they make love in their moonlight-drenched bedroom, they talk, sometimes for hours on end, their legs tangled and heartbeats syncing.

And in four days, they have a meeting that could change their lives. Will change their lives. Carlos is ready for it—he wants all of it, wants to give TK’s little brother a home and a life that’s filled with warmth and promise—but it still makes him anxious. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

Next to him, TK stirs, like he knows Carlos is ruminating. His nose pushes into the back of Carlos’ neck, his arm tightening over his middle. They’d fallen into bed in a heap after the reception, both of them sweaty from dancing and latent with desire after being around so much love, and though the blue hours of night leave them encased in shadows Carlos knows exactly where every little mark is on TK’s skin; where his beard left red patches he soothed over with wet kisses.

“What’s up?” TK asks him, though with his sleep-slurred speech it sounds more like whassup.

“Nothing,” Carlos tries, even though it’s futile. “Go back to sleep.”

TK’s pulled more into consciousness, his voice growing stronger. “Not until you tell me what’s bugging you.”

“Nothing, really,” Carlos insists, finding it hard to explain. TK’s thumb finds the fading, yellowed bruise nestled into the curve of Carlos’ ribcage, and strokes over the skin absentmindedly. “I’m just thinking. About you, about work. About Jonah.”

“It’s a lot,” TK murmurs, his touch as gentle as feathers; as soft wool.

“I kept thinking about it tonight. How our family’s going to grow.”

TK’s quiet, letting him slowly talk himself into the point he wants to get to.

“And I’m—I’m scared about it. I think I always will be. But I can’t imagine wanting anything more than I want this.”

TK hums. “Weddings make you a little sappy, huh.”

“Shut up,” Carlos laughs, knowing they’re both thinking of their own big day, and how they’d both cried more times than they could count. “I talked to Joe a little bit, when you guys first pulled Marjan away.”

Visions of it swim in shimmery lights in his mind, as he recalls Nancy and Paul and Mateo and TK, even Tommy and Judd, pulling Marjan away before her so-called glam team arrived at the firehouse. Carlos had been close on their heels to follow and join in on whatever little toast they were going to insist upon with their friend, the heart of the 126, and he did make it to the bunks before the last glass of sparkling cider had been poured. But first he found Joe admiring the space, the decorations that still needed fine-tuning, and appreciated their brief conversation as he always does.

“He said how it happened so quickly because neither of them could bear to wait any longer,” Carlos continues, turning now in his husband’s grip so they can face each other. “And I know we joked about a quick ceremony right after you proposed but I-I feel the same. We never…we never know what tomorrow will bring. I wouldn’t change a thing, TK, and I wouldn’t change a thing about what we’re doing now.”

TK’s eyes glisten. They could blame it on the post-wedding glow, but they both know this is just what they do to each other. “Me neither, baby.”

They’re close enough that their noses brush; they give into the pull, and press them together before exchanging a kiss that says I love you, and another that says forever.

(i wish you would write a fic where…game!)

[tammyjackson50-blog]

Unspoken Attraction\\ S.M

Summary: When your dance partner gets sick right before the biggest competition of the year, you're stuck in a nightmare. Your teacher’s solution? Pair you with the one person you can’t stand. Now you’re forced to rehearse every day with the guy you’ve spent years avoiding. The worst part? He's actually good, and he enjoys it.

Next episode ->

~~

The dance studio buzzed with excitement as the upcoming competition was getting close. It was a 2000's hip-hop couple dance, and everyone was eager to prove themselves. Y/n stood with her friends when her phone rang. Looking at the screen, she saw it was her dance partner, Jake.

"Hey, Jake! What's up, my guy?" she answered, "Y/n, just don't kill me, okay? I... I can't do it," Jake's voice was strained, tinged with guilt. "I've tested positive for COVID. I'm really sick and there's no way I'll be ready by next week." Y/n's heart sank "What? Where the hell did you get covid from?? No, Jake, this can't be happening omg, the competition is next week. We were so ready." "I know, I'm so sorry. You need to find someone else, Y/n. There's no other way."

" I hope that you'll get better, except me coming for you in your dreams." He laughs. " I'm glad to know that I have such a good friend like you." She ended the call, her mind racing "Guys, Jake's out. He somehow got COVID in 2024 and can't compete," she said, feeling stressed.

Nearby, Sam Monroe leaned against the wall, surrounded by his group. His eyes was on Y/n, he heard the conversation. They had always been rivals, their competitiveness simmering with unspoken attraction. He walked passed her, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Trouble in paradise, Y/n?" Sam's tone was teasing, but his eyes held a glint of something more. Y/n glared at him, not in the mood for his games "Oh ,not now, Sam." Their dance teacher, Mr. Bradley overheard the exchange and stepped in. "Sam, you know our policy. We help each other out. Y/n needs a partner, and you're one of our best." Sam crossed his arms, feigning indifference. "I don't do couple dances, Mr. Bradley. You know that. I prefer solo or group routines."

Mr. Bradley sighed, clearly frustrated. "Sam, you have the skills, and you know it. Y/n needs you. Step up." Sam looked at Y/n, who was biting her lip in worry. He could sense her desperation and the weight of the competition pressing down on her.

"Fine," he said rolling his eyes. "But only because I don't want our studio to look bad. Y/n looked up, surprised "Wait, really? You're going to partner with me?" Sam shrugged "Looks like it. Don't think this changes anything between us, I'm still going to outdance you." Her competitive spirit flared "Ha, We'll see about that, Monroe." He looked at you with no expression "we'll do it when we'll be alone" and turned around, leaving you annoyed yet somehow relaxed, knowing that you are not out of the competition.

Later that day, as the sun has set, the studio had emptied out, leaving just Y/n and Sam. Neither of them wanted to stay, but they know that they had to practice together. The silence was very awkward

Sam sighed, breaking the quiet "I can't believe that I need to do that... and with you." Y/n shot him a look, "Yeah, well, I didn't ask for this either, Monroe, but thanks, I guess."

They stood in the middle of the dance floor, the studio dimly lit around them. It was their first time being alone together like this...

"Okay, um, this is our song," Y/n said, her voice a bit softer. She walked over to the sound system and pressed play. The beat of a 2000s hip-hop track filled the room. Sam listened, his face unreadable "Classic choice. Guess you have some taste after all."

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Don't get too cocky. We still have to sync up, and that means actually working together." He smirked. “I hope you can catch up with the dance,” Y/n said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Sam rolled his eyes, a smirk on his lips. “Just show me the moves, Y/n, I’ll manage.” Y/n sighed, stepping into the center of the studio. “Alright, let’s start with the basics. This is the routine Jake and I came up with.”

She began to demonstrate the steps, her movements fluid and precise. Sam watched intently, surprisingly focused. He mimicked her moves, catching on quickly. “Not bad, Monroe,” she admitted reluctantly. “But you’re still not hitting the beats right. Watch my feet.” Sam’s eyes followed her every move, his gaze intense. “Got it.” As they continued, Y/n couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he picked up the dance. It irritated her that he was good at everything, even when he pretended not to care. He was Sam Monroe, after all, always cocky and insufferable.

Then came the part of the routine that made Y/n a bit uncomfy. It was a move that required them to get close. “Okay, this next part is... a bit different,” she said, “We have to be really in sync, just... follow my lead.”

She stepped closer to him, feeling his warmth. Their bodies moved together, the music guiding them. As their hips swayed and their chests brushed against each other, the air between them grew thick with unspoken tension. It was hard to focus on the steps when her heart was racing. Sam’s hands gripped her waist, pulling her slightly closer. His breath was hot against her ear. “Like this?” Y/n swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure. “Y-Yeah, just like that.”

The moment felt electric, a dance of challenge and desire. Their eyes met, and for a brief second, it was as if the rivalry had melted away, leaving only the raw attraction between them. Just then, the moment was interrupted by a knock on the door. her friend, Clara, poked her head in. “Hey, I forgot my water bottle.” Y/n stepped back quickly, her face flushed. “It’s over there on the bench.”

Clara grabbed her bottle, glancing curiously between them. “Thanks.. See you tomorrow.”

As the door closed behind her, Y/n and Sam stood there, the tension still lingering but now mixed with a hint of awkwardness. “We should call it a night,” Y/n said, avoiding his gaze. “We’ve covered enough for today.” Sam nodded, “Sure, same time tomorrow?” “Yeah,” she replied, already heading for the door. “Same time.”

As you hurried towards the bus station, your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "What the fuck was that?" You muttered under your breath, replaying the intense practice session with Sam over and over in your head. Why did Mr. Bradley have to pair us up? I could have found another partner......... I think.

Lost in thoughts, you didn't notice the car pulling up beside you until the window rolled down, revealing Sam's smirking face. "Need a ride?" he asked casually, as if the charged atmosphere from earlier hadn't existed at all. "No thanks, Sam," you replied firmly,as you walked towards the bus station He drove slowly beside you, "Are you sure? I can take you home," he offered. I couldn't help but laugh, though there was a hint of disbelief in it. "I'm good, Sam," I said, shaking my head slightly. He matched my laughter with a smirk, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before he drove away, leaving me with a mix of relief and a bit of confusion.

---- Later that night, as I lay in bed, I remembered that I had promised to show Sam a video of one of my recent practices with Jake. I found the video on my phone and sent it to him, along with a quick message.

-"Forgot to show you this earlier, this is what the dance is supposed to look like"

I was already ready to turn off my phone and go to sleep, but to my surprise, Sam replied almost immediately.

-"Watching it now. Let's see if you and Jake are really that good"

A moment later, another message popped up.

-"Okay, not bad. You two look pretty comfortable together"

um

-"Thanks, I guess? you know, Jake and I have been dancing for a long time now"

-"That part where you guys get really close... looks a bit too comfortable if you ask me"

-"It's called chemistry, Monroe. Something you might want to work on"

-"Oh, I have chemistry, Y/n. Just not with everyone."

-"Maybe you should try being less cocky and more focused then."

-"Maybe I just need the right partner" ouch "Too bad you and Jake were so cozy. Wonder if you'll miss him during that part".

I rolled my eyes, feeling the irritation bubbling up again.

-"We’re just dancing, Sam. Not everything has to be a big deal"

-"Sure, sure. Just seemed like you were enjoying it a bit too much. Can you handle the same with me?"

His comment made my heart skip a beat, and I quickly typed back.

-"I can handle anything, Monroe, just try to keep up."

-"Challenge accepted, Goodnight, Y/n"

-"Goodnight, Sam."

You were really annoyed by him. As if dealing with Sam Monroe in person wasn't enough, now he was getting under your skin through text messages too. You couldn't deny there was something about his cocky attitude that got to you, but you refused to let it show. With a sigh, you turned off your phone and tried to focus on getting some sleep.

-----

The next day, you arrived at the studio and sat down with your friends, glancing around the room. Sam was nowhere to be seen.

"Is he serious?" you muttered under your breath, pulling out your phone. You quickly typed a message to him.

-"Where are you? We're supposed to be practicing."

You tapped your foot impatiently, waiting for a response. A few minutes later, your phone buzzed.

-"Relax, I'm on my way. Traffic."

You rolled your eyes, not buying his excuse.

-"Traffic, huh? Sure you're not just trying to avoid practice?"

~"Why would I do that? I enjoy our little sessions."

-"Well, hurry up. We don’t have all day."

~"Don't worry, I won't leave you hanging."

You put your phone away, still irritated but trying to focus on the routine. Your friends were doing their thing, but your mind was elsewhere, finally, the studio door opened, and Sam walked in, looking as relaxed as ever.

"Morning," he greeted casually, his eyes meeting yours with a familiar glint of mischief. "You're late," you shot back, crossing your arms. "Traffic, remember?" he said with a smirk. "Let's get to work."

It going to be another interesting day.

You played the music and started practicing, diving straight into the routine. The energy of the hip-hop beat drove your movements, pushing you both to sync up despite the tension. You approached the part of the dance you hadn’t practiced yesterday a challenging sequence that required trust and coordination.

“Alright, this is the part where I run and jump into your arms,” you said, already anticipating Sam’s cocky response. “Then I slide under you, between your legs, and get up smoothly. After that, you need to hold my leg around your thigh.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, his signature smirk appearing. “I remember that part, sounds easy enough. Ready when you are.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I know it's very tempting for you not to catch me when I jump, but please, for the sake of the dance, just do it right.”

He chuckled. “I got you, Y/n. Don’t worry.”

The music built up, and you took off, running towards him. With a leap, you trusted Sam to catch you, and to your surprise, he did. You slid under him, moving smoothly between his legs, and then rose gracefully, positioning your leg for him to hold. His hands found their place around your thigh, holding you firmly. The last moment of the dance, your bodies locked in a pose that was both intense and intimate. You could feel his breath, steady and controlled, as he held you in place.

“Not bad, Monroe,” you said, slightly breathless. “Thanks,” he replied, his voice low “You’re not too shabby yourself.” You both stayed in that position for a beat longer than necessary, the music fading out. The air between you was charged, the dance pushing you closer both physically and emotionally.

Finally, you stepped back.

“Let’s run it again,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Okay” Sam replied, his smirk back in place. “Just don’t expect me to always be this nice.” "That's the last thing I expected from you, Monroe" I smiled, feeling a mix of surprise and amusement as we ran through the jump sequence again. This time, when I tried to move away at the end of the routine, Sam didn't release my leg,his grip was firm, teasingly defiant. As his smirk widened, clearly enjoying the moment, I decided to play along. In response to his playful teasing and to assert a bit of control, I lightly tapped his stomach with my knee. It was enough to catch him off guard, making him release his hold with a surprised laugh.

"Touché," Sam chuckled, rubbing his stomach lightly where I had nudged him. "Didn't know you had it in you." I shrugged nonchalantly, masking the flicker of satisfaction at having caught him off balance. "You should know better than annoy me, Monroe."

He grinned, the tension between us easing into a more playful banter. "Noted. But admit it, Y/n, you enjoyed that."

I rolled my eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a direct answer. "Let's just focus on getting this routine right, okay?"

Sam nodded, the competitive glint returning to his eyes. "Deal. But just so you know, I'm not going easy on you." "Good," I replied, a challenge in my tone.

"I wouldn't want it any other way."

--

A few hours later, you and Sam were both exhausted and drenched in sweat. Your shirt clung to your body, and though you didn't notice, Sam's gaze lingered a bit longer, an unfamiliar feeling stirring within him.

"Officer, can I go home already? I'm sick," Sam joked, his voice dripping with mock desperation. You laughed, rolling your eyes. "Just one more time, Monroe. We need to nail this."

He groaned playfully, but there was a hint of admiration in his eyes. "Alright, one more time. But after this, I'm taking a break."

You both took your positions, the music starting up again. Despite the fatigue, you moved through the routine with a renewed sense of purpose. When you reached the jump, Sam caught you effortlessly, and you slid under him smoothly.

As you rose and positioned your leg for him to hold, there was a brief moment where your eyes met. The intensity in his gaze caught you off guard, but you quickly refocused on the dance. His grip on your thigh was firm yet gentle, and you could feel the heat radiating between you two.

When the music faded out, you both stood there, catching your breath. "See? That wasn't so bad," you said, trying to keep your tone light. Sam nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, you did alright." You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress a grin. "Get some rest, Monroe. We'll pick this up tomorrow."

"Sure thing, Y/n," he replied, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to grab his stuff.

-Yo yo, I think that I stared writing this 3 months ago, what do you think?

[keruimi]

His Blessing and Heartbreak

Warning!: Angst and Manga Spoilers

Author's note: Hi Everyone!!! I'm back and sorry for not being active for a year. I lost my motivation and Senior highschool life is really draining. But I hope you enjoy this little sibling angst. No romance for now, just family.

_____________________________

They were born into the same world, with the same face, the same voice, and the same hands that could set and spike with perfect coordination. From the moment they could walk, they were side by side—one never too far from the other. Atsumu, with his insatiable hunger for greatness, and Osamu, with his easygoing smirk, the steady presence that kept him grounded.

They fought like rivals but moved like mirrors, always in sync, always knowing where the other would be without having to look. They threw insults like serves, shoved each other in hallways, stole food off each other’s plates, yet still split the last rice ball in half without thinking. And at the end of the day, no matter how much Atsumu barked orders or how much Osamu rolled his eyes, there was something unshakable between them. A rhythm. A silent understanding. They played best when they played together.

But the game changed.

Osamu saw it first—the difference between talent and passion, between what he was good at and what he truly wanted. Volleyball was fun, but it didn’t set his blood on fire like it did for Atsumu.

"It's just that..."

"You love volleyball a smidge more than I do, Tsumu."

It wasn’t a big speech. It wasn’t a dramatic declaration. Just a simple truth, spoken like it had always been obvious.

But to Atsumu, it wasn’t.

Because volleyball was everything. Because their entire lives had been built around it—waking up early for practice, staying late after school, running drills until their legs ached, pushing each other to be better, faster, stronger. They had always played side by side, from the moment they first held a ball in their tiny hands. It was never just a game. It was them.

And now Osamu was saying he didn’t want it.

Atsumu laughed at first, like it was a joke, like Osamu would wake up the next day and change his mind. Called him stupid, told him he’d regret it. But the first time he saw Osamu looking at something that wasn’t volleyball—watching the steam rise from a fresh batch of rice balls, his hands moving with the same precision they once had on the court—Atsumu felt it. The weight of something breaking.

"When we're on our deathbeds, I'm gonna turn and look you right in yer face! And say I had the happier life!"

He had screamed it in the middle of their worst fight, voice hoarse, hands clenched into fists. The words had come out sharp, like knives thrown in the dark. And Osamu—Osamu, who always met him head-on, who never backed down from a fight—just look at him in anger. Just glare, like Atsumu was the fool for not understanding.

Like happiness wasn’t something you could measure.

Atsumu knew it wasn’t about winning or losing. Knew that Osamu wasn’t choosing against him, wasn’t leaving to hurt him. But knowing didn’t make it easier. Because the moment he let himself accept it, it would become real. It would mean letting go of the version of their future he had clung to so desperately—the one where they played together forever, side by side, just like always.

And he wasn’t ready for that.

If Osamu just knew how much his presence had shaped Atsumu’s life.

If he just knew that Atsumu wasn’t angry because he didn’t understand—but because he did.

Because later, when Atsumu found himself standing on the court alone—really alone—he felt it. The silence. The missing presence that had always been there, the rhythm that had always matched his own. He tossed the ball into the air, set it perfectly, spiked it like it was second nature—but it wasn’t the same. It wasn't just about playing together. It was about knowing, without looking, that someone was always there to catch him.

He had spent his whole life thinking he was the stronger twin. The one who wanted it more, the one who pushed harder, the one who refused to settle for anything less than the best. But for the first time, Atsumu wondered—had he ever been strong on his own, or had Osamu been holding him up all along?

It should’ve been a clean break. It should’ve been as simple as Osamu walking one way and Atsumu walking the other. But it wasn’t.

Because even after Osamu stepped off the court, even after he traded a volleyball for an apron, even after their futures stopped aligning the way they once had, something still tied them together.

Because the next time Atsumu came home late from practice, exhausted and starving, there was a neatly wrapped rice ball waiting for him on the counter. No note. No explanation. Just there, like it had always been.

Because one night, when Atsumu was mindlessly setting a ball against the wall, Osamu walked past and caught it without thinking, tossing it back like it was second nature. Like nothing had changed.

Because even now, when Atsumu stood on the court, tossing the ball into the air, he swore he could still hear it—

The echo of Osamu’s voice, the ghost of their laughter, the rhythm of a game they used to play together.

Maybe his twin wasn’t on the court anymore. Maybe they weren’t walking the same path.

But they were still side by side.

Just like they always had been.

[allthingsfangirl101]

AFTR: Chapter 4 - Let The Interregation Begin

Masterlist

After we got in last night, we were interrogated by my family. They asked Glen about his life and his work. They asked us about our relationship and how we got started.

My mom about had heart palpitations when she heard that we met on a plane and he worked hard to find me again. My sister made a comment about him being a stalker. I immediately corrected her and told her that I found it sweet and romantic.

After several rounds of questions being thrown at us that Glen answered without hesitation, Dad finally cut it off and said it was time for bed.

Glen grabbed my hand and led me upstairs. We closed the door and got ready for bed. It should've felt awkward sleeping next to a complete stranger, but it wasn't. It almost felt natural. We fell asleep within minutes.

I woke up to the sun shining through the window. I rolled over, my heart slightly beating against my chest when I saw Glen asleep. I carefully got out of bed and slipped into the shower. I got out and got dressed before leaving the bathroom. When I left the bathroom, Glen was awake.

"There you are, darling."

"Hey," I smiled as I walked in, running my fingers through my hair.

"What are the plans for today?"

"Nothing," I said, slightly clearing my throat. Glen laughed as he got out of bed and walked over to me.

"Not having a plan bothers you, doesn't it?" He smirked.

"Maybe," I mumbled lol. He laughed as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. In the back of my mind, I realized that the door was closed. He wasn't doing this for my family.

"We can always come up with our own plans," he said, genuinely trying to comfort me.

"Or," I elongated, "we could take it one random activity at a time."

"That's going to kill you," Glen laughed. "Just send me a look and I will make up some plan to escape the nothingness with your family."

"Thank you," I whispered. Glen pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek before walking past me and starting to get ready.

"I have to ask," Glen said as we finished getting ready for the day, "do you like your family calling you by your full name? It seems like every time they say your name, you kind of cringe."

"It makes me sound like a 75-year-old woman," I chuckled awkwardly as I sat on the edge of the bed. Glen laughed as he walked over and sat next to me. "My sisters know how much I hate my name so they purposefully call me by my full name to tease me."

"You know," he smirked as he scooted closer to me, "I think it bothers your older sister when I call you Ellie."

"Guess it's working," I whispered. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. We scooted closer as our lips moved softly in sync.

"Ugh!" We broke apart and turned around to see Kelley in the doorway. "I hate to remind you," she shot at us, "but there are children in the house."

"I know, Kelley," I smiled sweetly. "We'll make sure we close and lock the door tonight."

I stood up and smirked at her as I shut the door on her. I turned around and Glen and I instantly started laughing. He pulled me onto the bed as we slowly stopped laughing.

"I'm really glad that you agreed to come with me," I said softly. "I know we've only been here one night, but you've already helped me."

"I have?" He asked, studying me.

"Yeah," I shrugged. "It's nice knowing I have at least one person on my side."

* * * * *

We walked downstairs to see Mom cooking pancakes. Kelley was drinking coffee while Ian fed their three-year-old daughter, Chloe. Their twin boys, Brandon and Bryson, were playing some video games. I wasn't sure where my dad and Aaiden were.

I smiled when Glen poured a cup of coffee and handed it to me before pouring one for himself. He leaned against the counter and smiled at me as he took a sip.

"Aunt Elle!"

Glen took a step back as Brandon and Bryson ran over to me and almost tackled me.

"When did you get here?" Brandon asked as they let me go.

"We got in last night."

"We?" Bryson asked. It was then that they noticed Glen.

"Who are you?" They asked in sync.

"Boys," I said, with a slight warning in my voice, "this is Glen, my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" They asked in sync again. They looked at each other before beginning to ask Glen questions.

"What do you do?"

"You look like a cowboy."

"Do you ride horses?"

"Do you ride bulls?"

"Are you an actual cowboy?"

"Do you play video games?"

"You look familiar."

"Are you familiar because you killed someone?"

"Are you wanted by the police?"

"Are you going to hurt our Aunt Elle?"

"How'd you meet our Aunt Elle?"

"Do you love her?"

"Boys!" I cut them off. "You know, he'd be able to answer questions if you paused between them."

"Okay," Bryson shrugged. "Let's talk about you and Aunt Elle."

"Let's not," I pleaded.

"What made you zero in on our aunt?" Brandon asked.

"Zero in? Boys. . ."

Glen reached over and gently wrapped his arm around my waist. "It was her eyes," he answered them.

"What do you mean?" Mom asked, joining the interview.

"When I first walked onto the plane, I instantly found Ellie," he said, looking over at me with a smile that made my heart skip a beat. I suddenly wondered if what he was saying was true. "I remember hoping that my seat was the empty one next to her. When I realized it was, I suddenly got really nervous. I sat next to her and she smiled at me. There was something in her eyes that made me want to stare into them all day long."

Mom let out a long "awww". The twins looked at each other before glancing back at Glen. I looked over to see Kelley rolling her eyes.

"Look, boys," Glen said, glancing at me before turning toward them. "I know how much you love your Aunt Elle. I know that you want to make sure that the guy who comes into her life is willing to take care of her and is worthy of her. I promise I will take care of her and I will work every day of my life to show you and her that I am worthy of her."

I held back my laugh when Brandon and Bryson leaned in and had a very intense hushed conversation with each other.

"We're okay with you," Bryson said.

"But," Brandon said quickly, "if you break her heart. . ."

"We will break your face."

They glared at Glen for a second before running back into the other room. We all laughed when we heard their game start back up.

"You should feel honored, babe," I laughed as I leaned my head on his shoulder. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head.

"The boys are very protective of their Aunt Elle," Ian laughed as he picked their daughter up, out of the highchair. "They mean it when they say they'll hurt you."

Ian took their daughter upstairs to wash her up. With Kelley's judgmental eyes on us, I lifted my head and pressed my lips to Glen's. He reached up, gently cupping my face, as he kissed me back. We broke the kiss and Glen quickly kissed my cheek.

"I don't think they'd actually hurt you," I said, making him laugh.

"Well, don't worry," he said, lowering his voice. "I promise that I have no intention of hurting you, darling."

"I appreciate that."

* * * * *

We finished our breakfast, quietly talking to each other with my sister and mom watching us closely. After we finished, Glen grabbed our plates and put them in the sink. He then grabbed my hand and pulled me into the living room where we watched the boys play their games.

"Why don't you help me in the kitchen, Eleanor?" Mom asked in her tone, which meant I shouldn't argue. I glanced worriedly at Glen, who grabbed my hand and smiled.

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek to cover up his whisper, "I'll be fine."

I sent him one more look before following my mom into the kitchen. "I'll wash. You dry."

I stood next to her and we started doing the dishes in silence. Until my mom shattered that.

"Sweetie," Mom said in her voice which usually signals a lecture, "Glen seems great."

"He is," I smiled, hesitant to fully trust this conversation.

"I hope you're spending enough time with him."

"Mom. . ."

"I just mean that you can sometimes get a little. . . too focused on your job," she tried to explain. "I'd hate to see you let something good slip through your fingers."

"You mean, you'd hate to see Glen slip through my fingers," I said slowly.

"Well," she stuttered, "it's just. . . You finally found a guy. I'd hate to see you lose him because you're more focused on your job than you are on him."

"Wow," I scoffed. "Just wow, Mom. I have a boyfriend, something you've wanted me to have for years, and all you can think about is how I'm going to definitely lose him."

"I didn't mean it like that," Mom tried to defend herself.

"But you think it," I nodded. "You think I'm going to ruin things."

"You get over-focused on work, sweetheart. If you worked less. . ."

"Glen also works," I tried to point out. "We both have jobs that ask for a lot, but we make time for each other. It's one of the things we promised. On our first date, we talked about our jobs. I told him that I'd probably end up canceling dates at the last minute because of work. He told me he'd probably end up canceling dates at the last minute because he has to travel for a new movie. We both promised that we'd make time for each other. And we do, Mom. Yes, I've canceled a few dates. But so has he. When he's in town, he steals me away for lunch. When I travel to the same place he's filming, we sneak off set early and spend the night together. We each do as much as we can. We both knew what we were getting into when we first started dating."

"I just want you to be careful," Mom said, clearly not hearing anything I just said. "Glen seems like a really sweet guy. I'd hate for you to lose him because you spend more time on your job than on your relationship."

"Mom. . ."

My heart jumped into my throat when Glen walked into the kitchen. One look at him and I knew he had overheard everything.

"Hey, darling," he said, sending a quick glance toward my mom. He walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist. "You ready for that walk on the beach you promised me?"

Taglist @djs8891

[kyouxa]

Amnesia World: School World (Toma's Sport Festival Hangout)

In terms of the gameplay: Whenever you're given a choice in the game, the translation will lead to the different choices. The name of your MC will be Y/N (your name) in the translation, but in game screenshots it might mention my name.

Toma: Oh, lucky me. I'm teaming up with you, Y/N.

Orion: Ah~! I'm so happy it's Toma. It's way better to be paired up with someone you know than to be with a stranger. 

Toma: I'll tie our ankles together; let me know if it hurts.

Orion: With him, it might be possible to win the race. I'm sure it'll be fun working with Toma. 

Toma: Okay… done. Hey, Y/N. Let's figure out a rhythm together.

This is the order: right foot, left foot, right foot. Alright, let's try it…

Orion: Right, left, right… Toma's completely in sync with us; that's awesome!

Toma: Do you think you can handle the three-legged race? The obstacles will most likely be the issue…

Orion: He's right… It might be a bit tricky because you need to react super fast.

Toma: I'm glad we're paired up at the sports festival, but I'd really like to win this race if we can…

We need to do our best to win. Let’s give it our all together, okay?

Minigame

Minigame Tutorial: Here!

Toma: Let's go! We won! 

Orion: Good job, Y/N! You guys were amazing!

Toma: I feel lucky to have been paired up with you. I hope you feel the same way.

Toma blushes

Toma: …Just kidding. Ah, just so you know, Shin's at the next event.

He probably thought he was sneaky, but I caught him practicing for it. Let's check out his performance together.

Time skip

Orion: Haa… After cheering for Shin, Toma went to help Sawa, and the sports festival is almost over now…

The folk dance will be the final event for you to participate in.

Toma: Umm… Y/N, may I have your hand?

Choices

1) Of course. 

2) If I step on your foot, I'm sorry. ♡ ♡ ♡

— Of course. 

Toma: …That's a formal way to put it. But, well… I look forward to dancing with you.

— If I step on your foot, I'm sorry. ♡

Toma: You haven't been skipping practice, right? If you step on my foot, I'll flick your forehead as a little punishment then. 

…I'm lying, of course. Don't worry about it. I won't get mad if you step on my foot.

end Choices

Toma: Somehow… Dancing with you makes me feel a little embarrassed…

You'll probably find someone else to dance with after we're done, right?

I know it's okay for you to switch partners. I don't like the thought of seeing you dance with another guy, though.

It makes me want to dance with you forever… Haha, that sounds like it could be a bit awkward, doesn't it?

Choices

1) That's…

2) I'd also like to stay like this if we could. ♡ ♡ ♡

— That's…

Toma: Ah, forget it. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bug you with that question.

I just… had this thought pop into my head, nothing more.

— I'd also like to stay like this if we could. ♡

Toma: Eh!? Really… Do you feel the same way about this?

…I see. It makes me very happy to know that. Thank you. 

end Choices

Orion: I know there's nothing new about this... But Toma really does care about you a lot.

I get that you see him like an older brother, but honestly… sometimes he says stuff that doesn’t fit for his age.

Before you forgot everything... How did you act when Toma was around?

Place: School dorms — Heroine's room

Orion: Thanks for all your effort at the sports festival! 

I'm super tired, but it was a blast doing something out of the ordinary today.

I get that there’s a lot on your mind right now, but it would be awesome if you could enjoy school life a little more, like you did today.

We both feel the same way when you're having fun; I can feel your happiness. 

Of course, we can't overlook getting your memories back, but I really think you should enjoy days like today too. 

After all, school is only a one-time thing. It would be a waste not to enjoy it!

I'm not sure how much longer I can stay with you… But I'll share all the ups and downs with you.

Let's keep up the good work… Until you remember everything again!

Study

→ My academics went up by 8!!

→ My health decreased!!

Contact

→ My memory went up by 6!!

→ My health decreased!!

Sport 

→ My physical strength went up by 7!!

→ My health decreased!!

Rest

→ My health has improved!

[z-eel]

i’ve survived work but i was fighting a caffeine headache for like four hours. i hope you like this. i’m going to go pass out in my rat nest

after that night, regulus just doesn’t really … leave. one day they even come home to regulus waiting for them because he claims they locked him out. it’s not that they’re complaining, they’re just confused. regulus has a fancy remote tech job where he makes a ton of money and can afford an ex-boyfriend-less apartment. he just doesn’t get one. he even still has stuff there, but he spends all his time with james and remus. his excuse? james is a great cook, remus makes amazing brownies, their tea selection is amazing, and their shared home library is something to be marveled at. why the hell would he leave?

there’s also one other reason he doesn’t want to. well, two.

the way that they were so protective of him, so understanding, so kind … who could blame regulus if he wanted to climb his brother’s friends like trees. and he wasn’t oblivious. he knew they were watching him. he could see the way remus subtly adjusted himself when he walked past in only a towel. he noticed that any time he laid on the floor reading, james would pause for just a moment before continuing. (this would make even more sense when james later confesses about his free use fantasies)

it’s been a long week. it’s finally saturday, james sleeps in every sunday, the moon isn’t for another week and a half, so they’re passing around a joint. it’s enough to make regulus the lightweight float. on his next pass around the circle, he tells the joint that he wishes they’d pass him around too. and then as he’s taking a hit of it, he realizes that 1. he was just talking to a joint. and 2. he said that out loud. he looks up at remus and james who are both … surprised but not.

in sync as usual, james goes did you just talk to the joint? as remus asks him if he really wants them to pass him around. regulus’s slightly shameful answer is yes to both.

remus takes the joint and takes one last hit off it. before he blows out the smoke, he turns to james and pulls open his mouth to shotgun it. the way james moans into his mouth at the taste and visibly tangles their tongues together… it’s downright pornographic. he stubs the joint out. i think we’ve had enough of that then. regulus do you want to join us in our bed tonight or do you want to just go to bed and listen to me fuck james into the mattress?

and regulus with his typical edges softened by the weed says he’s going to join them. no argument, no debating within himself, just acceptance that, yeah, he’s going to join them tonight. and hopefully other nights. maybe forever. okay, he’s getting ahead of himself. fuck first, romance later.

he ends up naked on all fours in their bed while they quietly argue over… a game of rock paper scissors? regulus isn’t entirely sure, he’s facing away, but that’s kind of what it sounds like.

wait rem best seven out of thirteen – james i think reg is going to go soft if you don’t just accept defeat. i thought you wanted to eat him out anyways – okay but now i’m indecisive. can we do it this way and then switch and make him come again

that’s how remus ends up below regulus, sucking his pretty cock into his mouth. regulus is so eager for it that he accidentally bucks into remus’s mouth. remus can take it, but he wants regulus to have a fighting chance once james gets settled, so he forces him to take a slow pace. it’s barely more than a tease if not for the fact that nothing can be teasing when remus’s mouth feels just that heavenly.

and james deserves an award for how good he is at eating ass. he sucks on regulus’s hole in a way that has him crying out and leaking. james throws himself wholeheartedly into making regulus feel as good as possible. regulus is so responsive it has james leaking all over remus’s stomach below him, and he can’t even be bothered to feel ashamed because… fuck, regulus is one of the best things he’s ever tasted

-💫🐀

aww poor baby, i hope you get all the rest you need.

"fuck first, romance later' is so Regulus Balck oh my god

Remus would go to kiss Regulus, and it's like so messy too because Regulus can taste himself and James is tongue is absolute magic, Regulus can't really mush else but pant and moan into the kiss with Remus. it also doesn’t help that Regulus is still high.

James' goal is to make Regulus come quickly because there are so many other things he wants to do but right he really wants to make Regulus come with his mouth. and Remus is mostly enjoying the view because it's a good fucking view.

and to be completely honest, i don't even think Regulus would come a second time before he'll knock out. like when they switch positions, James would be all enthusiasm, he would not let Regulus rest while Remus is making sure Regulus is still with them because his moans are becoming more breathy and every slight movement has Regulus nearly falling foreword.

(love the idea of Regulus struggling to keep up with James and Remus because he just didn't fuck as often as they did)

[jamminlocks]

Just a Wink - pt 2 {Suna x Reader}

Tags: Flirting, flirting strangers, Fluff, Humor, Semi-Canon Compliant, not beta read, still not beta read, reader is a volleyball player, word count: 4322 Summary: You meet the middle blocker from Inarizaki again in the next national tournament and you still have the mischievous streak to have fun. A/N: the tags here and comments from ao3 were motivating and i still had some ideas in mind so i made another part. may add or change some stuff here are there [ao3] 1 ⪻ ꒰ 2 ꒱⪼ 3

•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°

Your team lost in the finals to Sakura Chuo High. It was a good game, though. The first set was a win for your team. But the next two were won by Sakura Chuo. The last being 23-25. The feeling of defeat comes slowly. You're more relieved that it's over, glad to wipe away the sweat all over your face and to stay dry at the present moment, finally getting the chance to breathe and let your heart beat steady. Competitive as you are, you don’t feel crushed per se. Sad, sure, but not as devastated as some of your teammates seem to be. If anything, what’s has you misty eyed is their sobbing rather than the actual loss. Feeling the pain of all the training, the practices, to only lead you all not crossing the final step to reach the peak. That's what happened last time. Everyone worked so hard to get here. Still you didn’t make it to the top. But that's how it is. Sometimes, you’ve got the ball rolling and it stops at the last moment. 

There’s still pride left in them, you think, that they understand second place is still really good. Some of your teammates will come to that conclusion later. Others, not really. They have their reasons and they're right to believe otherwise. To you, the team has proven that you’ve all come this far. Every other school will see you all as strong opponents for the next nationals. As for you personally, You could say getting up here is a huge confidence boost as a player and you want to play up to here again.

After the game, as you all wipe away the sweat and rehydrate, your captain and half of the team approach you while you drink from your bottle.

“Sorry we made you look bad in such a big game,” your captain starts, saying it with at most exaggerated seriousness that purposely borders on being funny. Paying no mind until one of your middle blockers said, “We promised to do our best after all."

You are confused, raising a brow. Then, they give a half bow to you and apologize in unison, confusing you even more. They were so in sync that it was suspicious, but a soft part of your heart gets the best of you. “Huh? What's this all about?” you exhaustedly cried out to them, worried you scared them at some point into playing better. You are in no position to suddenly have them be like this to you.  

“We said we’d do our best so you can score a date with that one guy from Hyogo,” the team’s second libero states in fake disappointment and the others nod. In an instant, It all clicks.

This is so stupid. “Damn you guys.” You are so done with them. Still you can’t help but laugh out loud. You’re well aware that this is a joke, but the idea that they thought winning nationals will get you a date with an attractive stranger tickles your mind in a way you didn’t think it would and it has you howling in laughter, not caring of passersby or the other team notices. It fills you with pride that, despite the loss, they found humor in it all. Your team laughs along with you and you all banter while readying to leave.

The middle blocker from Hyogo in question, Suna-san, didn't quite leave your mind. After that little chat with him, you did not expect to see him again anytime soon. Most teams don't stay to watch the following days live after they're out of the nationals brackets. Though Inarizaki stayed for another day after they lost, you already assumed they’d be gone the day of the finals. 

There was a part of you that would like to believe they did stay to watch. You already met Suna-san by chance once. Why not a second time? Or even just see other Inarizaki players walking around like before. But it seems they didn’t. You didn’t feel that strange chill when Suna-san had his eyes on you, not before, during or after the match.

However, you’re kind of glad it's likely that he didn’t watch at all. He wished you luck yet you lost. Now that is embarrassing, even when you were playing really well in the match. Therefore, you can move along in peace.

As you walk alongside your teammates, carrying their own respective gym bags, you like to think that the luck Suna-san wished for you will show up at a different time.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Spring came, all of you bid farewell to your seniors and you became a third year yourself. Without your input or by default, the team pretty much chose you as their vice-captain, which is actually much better than being the captain, in your humble opinion. The first years are a handful. They do have a great deal of potential, just guiding in the right direction, and maybe a gentle knuckle to their heads sometimes but they’re mostly fine. 

Oddly for you, some teammates like to gossip in good fun and the little story of you chatting it up with a middle blocker from a powerhouse team gets to the first year players. From what you’ve heard and what the first years were willing to say that they heard, it's not far from what happened. Nonetheless you know that your freshmen, teammates’ active imaginations might have imagined it differently.  Now, they think you're the senior who has the hidden ability to charm attractive boys when in reality it was just a sudden burst of confidence and living in the moment.

Regarding that one guy in question, Suna-san was rarely in your mind unless it was about nationals or the  boys’ side of the nationals. Though the memory of the chat you had with him has been slightly tainted by the fact that more people know about it now and you have to always point out that you really weren’t trying to get it with him– you don’t even know where that assumption came from– whenever the story gets retold, you can still look back at it and feel pleased with yourself that you did not fumble. This is even more so because you winked at him, twice. The first time is the most fun to recall. You don’t know if you could do that again if you end up seeing him in nationals, if you even get there.

And then, the first half of your third year was to your favor. The team does great enough to win your prefecture's Interhigh Preliminaries, setting you to what could probably be the last nationals you'll attend in your school sports career. Perhaps that luck was paying off and you hope it will last you until the end. 

The trip to Tokyo was much like last years, yet the new batch of freshmen brought a new kind of excitement when you got there. Much like the last inter-high tournament, your team waits by the stairs outside of the tokyo gymnasium, under sunnier weather, not to join in the clustered crowd inside. Keeping the team in a good mindset was a job you had with the captain and manager. That's what you were mostly doing. Still, the waiting has you bored and you distract yourself by looking on to the crowd of other players. The teams are a little more lively than they were back in January, it might be because of the brighter, warmer weather. New uniforms also wait alongside your team, new or returning teams from years ago. Plenty of old uniforms from last nationals make their return. They all come with matching banners of their school’s name. You find yourself looking for a particular shade of maroon banners and sports jacket, yet they weren’t there

The tournament brackets are inside the gymnasium, but you have the gut feeling that Inarizaki will be here too. You could do that right now, ask a teammate what team is here for Hyogo. After all, you could also be wrong. However, some of your more teasing members are quick to jump to the conclusion that you're hoping it’s Inarizaki because of, well, a certain someone, rather than assuming you're asking out of genuine curiosity. They’d be right too but you're not really in the mood to feed into their teasing. It's also on the bottom of your list of priorities. So, you spend the rest of the wait checking on your team’s well being while scanning the crowds of colorful volleyball jerseys every now and then to distract yourself.

The thought fades once your team enters the gymnasium and you, along with the rest of the teams present, prepare for the opening ceremony. It was only when you check out the tournament brackets after the ceremony do you see that Inarizaki is present. It’s impressive but no surprise to you or anyone. From what you've gathered, they won't be up to play until much later, same as your team. 

Teams that aren't the first four matches in the main arena of the tournament spend their time being an audience of those matches or wandering around the stadium until it is their turn. That's what your team has been up to. Everyone is in high energy and high spirits, so most of your teammates are walking around either watching the games or checking out the stalls for souvenirs. Some opted out to just sit and preserve their energy for the match, leaving them as the guard of everyone else's bags.

You are one of those that decided to walk around. The excitement was getting to you a bit and you practically could not sit still. Your manager suggests you come along with her, figuring mayhaps getting on your feet will shake it out. She was just going to the vending machines and didn't want to go alone. You join her after snagging money from a pocket of your bag, thinking you could use a box of milk, actually. If they have milk, that is. 

As you walk together, other bright uniforms pass you. You briefly watch the match from each court as you move. The squeaks of rubber shoes on concrete, shuffling feet, the impact of volleyballs on hands and arms, players shouting, audience cheering and playing their teams' cheer music, it all mixes and blends into the festive and energetic atmosphere nationals is known for. You finally reach the hall leading to the exit of the ground floor. It is where some of the vending machines are lined up. From what you can remember, most of them are on the other side, near the entrance.

“Shit”, your manager hisses as she hastily pads her pockets. Concerned but already understanding where this is going, you ask anyway. “What’s wrong?” 

“I forgot my wallet.” As you thought. She then hands you her clipboard, and jogs off to the direction where you both came from. “I’ll be right back,” She called out, leaving you standing alone. You sigh, defeated yet humored. She bought her clipboard with her but not the money to buy anything. 

After watching her disappear from the corner, you scan the options presented to you by the vending machine in front of you. Juices, soft drinks, canned coffees– maybe you’ll get one later– water, no milk. You walk to the next one and it's the same. The one after that is not even drinks. It's cup noodles and is also tempting. You keep walking and hear footsteps of other people but you pay no mind as you read. Probably other players anyway. It was on the third to the last one, a white vending machine like the beverage it is encasing. The milk is packed in small cartons that you find adorable since you were a child. There's the milk you usually drink and other varieties. It had you thinking

Should you buy the usual or be a bit adventurous and get the flavor you haven’t tried before? The pros of the latter is you enjoying milk and having another kind of milk to like. The cons being you might get an upset stomach right before a game or during the game for suddenly trying something new. However, you may regret it if you don’t give it a try.  

Before you make up your mind, you sense it again, the feeling of being watched. Turning to the corner where you last saw your manager, she is still nowhere to be seen. Has she found her wallet and is on her way or still shuffling her bag? You huff impatiently, looking back at the milk cartons behind the vending machine’s glass. Maybe you should just buy your usual plain milk.

After making up your mind, you take the money out of your pocket, slipping the clipboard under your arm. Then, you feel it again, someone's eyes on you. This time, It's different. It’s specific, familiar. It’s the same to the one back in January, that chill. Your awareness heightens. Looking back again, there are other people walking. You half-hope that you would see him. Not because you want to, wanting to be right that it is the same chill as back then. But after scanning the passersby, specifically any person in a volleyball uniform, there wasn’t a single black jersey. It’s somehow disappointing.

Sifting through the money in your hand, there's plenty of 10 yen coins, some 50 yen too. What you need is 100 yen. As you count, someone walks up and stands at a distance from you. 

Unsure if they were waiting for their turn to buy, you took a quick glance, noticing maroon cloth. From the corner of your eye, there you see him, Suna-san of Inarizaki's Volleyball team standing in front of the vending machines, staring at the rows of featured bottles, right beside you. His phone with a bright screen on one hand. The other is in the pocket of his jacket.

Your gut is telling you to say 'hi', like he’s already your friend. Winking at and talking to someone once from a few months ago does not count as friendship. Still pretending to be preoccupied, you observe him. It seems, like you, Suna-san came without a beverage in mind, scanning the selection of drinks behind each glass. He makes careful strides forward while his attention is on the side, not in a hurry. You played with the coins between your fingers. Should you talk to him? Shifting your stance to the other foot. The distance between you gets closer and he stops just far enough for him to notice. You're already here, might as well have your fun again. 

“Hey,” you greet, a little playful at the tail end.

From his focus on the vending machine, his head pirks up, turning to you. Those feline-like eyes are on you again, less unintentionally threatening this time. Just like before, they gape open in mild surprise then they droop back. He smirks at you.

"Hey," Suna-san echoes with the same voice as he did back then–  low, cool, lazy, like having recently woken up. He doesn't appear to have changed much from the last time you saw him. Still having the same haircut. You wager he grew a cm or soThere is a glint in his gaze you can't quite put your finger on. “You made it.”

You softly laugh at his comment. Was he expecting to see you at Nationals? "Yeah. I'm surprised too.”

"Your team did win second place in the last tournament," Suna-san points out. Hearing it from him sounds like a bigger deal. Well, he didn't have to tell you that, tooting your horn for you. He follows up with, "congrats, by the way."

Although smiling in thanks, you try not getting it too big. You said, "don't say that yet, that was the last time. We haven't played our first match today." Your attention is split between the vending machine and talking to him. There is a pause as you do.

“How was it,” he asked. A vague question. It pulls you out from choosing a drink. 

Turning to him, you say, “you mean the finals?” It's still clear to you the feelings during the match, the rush, the exhaustion, the thrill. “Even though we lost, it was great. Manage to score a lot too,” recalling scoring a spike in one particularly long rally. The frustration in the Sakura Chau player's faces still brings you satisfaction. “I wanna get up there again. And, well, actually win.”

He nods. Likely understanding your sentiment. Inarizaki did get to the finals last year. However, losing Itachiyama. He would definitely know what you mean. Suna-san pointing with his phone has you looking down on your torso, "you're the vice-captain now, huh?” it made sense that he is referring to your jersey number.

You shrug one shoulder nonchalantly, though there is still pride in your voice, "yup." 

He slides his phone into one of the jacket’s pockets. "How's that going for you?"

"Better than I thought. I’m not the one holding the sign, standing front all the time, nor the one doing all the talking for the team when the sports media has questions,” you said with a grin. A grin of someone who has tactically dodged a bullet. “Most of the time, all I do is keep the team in good shape and rally them up when they’re too energetic."

Suna-san’s head tilted up slightly. “You’re not overshadowed by your first years, are you?”, a subtle challenge. Not out of doubt, more like tempting a cat with a stick out of curiosity. You take it, though, just to play along. 

“HAH! No.” you assert. “They work hard and play well, but I won’t let myself fall behind, even if the team’s winning a game.” A humble brag, really, one that you're willing to make. To your surprise, the expression of his eyes changes to something you can only assume being pleased at your answer. “And you, Suna-san?” Throwing the question to him, crossing your arms, expecting to be impressed. “I heard that the twins are quite a menace in court.” 

Suna-san lets out a light, humored scoff, glancing to the side. “Compared to our old captain and vice-captain, they are. But, they’re-” he trails off a little, thinking of what word to use for them. “…manageable.” You nearly burst out a laugh.

It's time for you to lightly challenge him. “That's not stopping you from playing well, does it”

Only Suna-san’s gaze of his sharp eyes returns to you. His irises are in shades of murky yellow complemented by the light of the vending machine. They stay on you as his stance shifts- straight posture yet laid back- in brief seconds of finger twitching anticipation. 

 “No”, he said, calm and cool, a simple answer delivered in unwavering, unobvious confidence. There’s nothing for you to deny and you don't try. Impressive, very impressive.

It's cut short when you realize Suna-san hasn’t been choosing anything from the vending machines. Were you making him wait? You sway a hand to the display. "Do you wanna buy something? I'll get it for you if you want."

“You first,” he insisted. Both of you choose in silence for your beverage. Returning back to your self debate, the usual or something new? Scheming uppermost row, a carton of chocolate milk you always wanted to try but always put off. Given the situation, you are feeling adventurous today.

After selecting the chocolate milk, the payment was inserted and the machine began processing it. “Chocolate, huh?” Suna-san said, somewhat impling if it's a favorite of yours. 

“Never got to try it. I heard it's good, though.”

Taking the cold carton out of the opening, you ask the other player, “So, which is it?” Wanting to follow through your offer to do it for him. A finger hovers over the buttons in preparation.

“Same as yours, actually” A stretched out arm hands you his money. You find it nice you're both drinking the same thing.

As you punch in his request, Another person approaches behind Suna-san, also a member of Inarizaki’s team. Speaking of one of the devils, a Miya, wearing number 2 as well. You were about to tell Suna-san of him. But the moment he sees you, the guy quickly makes a 180 degree turn– somehow not squeaking his shoes– and rushes back where he came from. Whether you scared him off or he had to go back for his own reasons is beyond you. You leave it be. If had something to say to his teammate, he wouldn’t have left. You insert the coins for the machine to process.

Mere second after Miya left, your manager came running from the other side. “SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG! IT GOT LOST IN MY BAG!” She stops beside you, huffing and a sweaty forehead. Seeing the middle blocker, then at you, She smiles wide.

“Oh!” she said, the suggestive tune goes unhidden. It takes one particular look from you to convey that your warning her to not start anything. “This is Suna-san. He’s a player for Inarizaki. Suna-san, she’s one of our managers,” you said.

She greets him well and he politely responds, beginning with small talk. You don’t participate, letting them be and listening in. Suna-san makes your manager look lively in comparison to him. He is very nice to her and you can't really blame him. The manager has that effect on everyone. 

You don’t let yourself gleefully observe the interaction for too long, nearly forgetting his drink. No one noticed it has dropped, so you took it out of the machine. The pen attached to the clipboard you’ve been holding fell and you picked that up too. Holding the pen, an idea pops up. You wipe the moisture of the box with the hem of your jersey and write something on an area of the box where the letters can fit in.

After you are done, you pat your manager’s shoulder. “Hey, buy something already,” gladly reminded her of why she had to run back for money. She does, moving to the different vending machine, leaving you and Suna to talk again. You handed him the chocolate milk carton. He hasn’t noticed yet.

“When’s your match?” you questioned. 

“Don’t know. Haven’t asked our captain yet.” there’s a spark of interest in his eyes. “Are you gonna watch us?”

“I’d like to, honestly. I didn’t get to see much last year.” your manager is still choosing, but you know you're running out of time. So, you’ll slip in one more, little, not-so-consequential challenge to him.

As you take the provided straw and carefully tear off its plastic, you ask, “Do you think you’ll win today's game?”

Suna-san sees it too, that you're playing with fire with light touches. 

He indulges you, “Yeah. We will.” a hand slips to his pocket phone to take it out.

“You?” the same question from earlier, mixed with a serious note by an accompanied raise brow.

“I’d like to think we will, just like last tournament,” you said while you inserted the straw. “Plus, I believe I still have the luck you wished for me last time, but… “stopping to take a sip of the milk. It's sweet and creamy, the chocolate comes a little late.

You return your attention  to Suna. his eyes' impression changed in a blink to something so close to…enticing. Chillingly so, It's almost flustering. However, you’re not backing down in whatever this is happening between the two of you. 

Cocking your head to the side, you coyly say “you’ll still wish me luck, won’t you?” 

A short, quiet and breathy laugh escapes his lips. There’s a new warmth in his eyes too.

“Good luck.” such few words, given in cool, yet sincere confidence. The luck he wishes you may as well be tangible.

Just when you were about to speak, your manager held you by your elbow. Her other hand was holding her bottled drink. “C’mon let's head back.”

You turn to her, not without you grinning back at him, “See you again, Suna-san.” Taking the tip of the straw between your teeth. 

You bid him your farewell with a drown out gaze long enough to feel captivating. Then, you give him a gentle wink before you head off. 

After your manager waves him a goodbye, you and her walk off as you take sips again. No words were exchanged until turning to the corner, where boys were out of sight.

“At it again, are we? Don’t you think it’s a bit too early for you to be flirting with boys?

You don’t really like how she puts it. To you, a little bit of teasing back there doesn’t count as full blown flirting.

“It’s nothing like that.”

“Hehe, once the other’s hears about this–”

“Haha, Don’t” you cut her off with a threatening smile. She cheekily smiles back and rolls her eyes. Not pushing it. Likely understanding that you’ve grown tired of the boy charmer jokes about you.

Navigating through the busy halls of the gymnasium, you drink. It tastes a lot better now, more of the chocolate flavor dancing around. You wonder if you overdid it by the end, that you may have had too much fun. Such a shame you did not see his full reaction. The most you got was seeing Suna-san’s expression slightly falter with a smirk from your periphery. You suppose that will be enough proof you got to him somehow.

With each passing sip, the chocolate milk becomes sweeter from your own satisfaction.

•~•~•~•~•~•

As Suna inserts the straw that comes with the box, he sees something written with pen’s ink

‘Good luck in your matches,’ signed with the kanji of your name.

He lets out a gratified sigh to himself. Your wink is still replaying in his mind.

“Damn it.”

•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°

A/N: jokes on me, guess i can post another fic before the year ends lol I sorta feel bad that their interaction took 2k words to happen lucky for everyone, there is a next chapter! i can hardly wait to finish writing it hahaha happy holidays everyone!!

[simp999]

A New Home Ch. 37

Various! Splatoon Manga x Skilled! Isekai'd! Reader

Wc: 1.2k

Back to the start! Previous Next

"If you are, then tell us what part, hm? Name us two idols that are known from there." He didn't let you answer.

You stood frozen. What was up with this all of a sudden?

He tugged at your arm harshly.

"Answer me!"

"It's-it's not what it seems-"

"Then what is it?! How do you know us so well? Are you a stalker? Are you an otherworldly being? I've seen you lip-syncing some things some of us have said. You couldn't possibly know us that well."

Rider refused to let go of your arm as you attempted to wriggle out of his grasp, terrified. What were they going to do to you? Where was your team?

"I'm-" You took a breath in. In a fit of panic for your safety, you breathed out: "You're right, I'm- I'm from another world."

They held their weapons up, they were afraid of you. But more than you were of them, you weren't too sure at the moment.

"SPIT IT OUT!"

You began to tear up.

Mask is the only slightly understanding one. "Weeeapons down, iiidiotss. They're unarmed. Chill a biiiit. Why does this change anything anywaaay? You all respected theeem without issuesss before Rider brought anything uuuup."

You shook in fear as tears fell freely. You never expected this from your idols. From characters you grew to love so much, even more after meeting them.

Rider let go of you.

"...How do you know us?"

You took a breath in and rubbed your arm where he had held it previously.

"You're from a manga in my world."

"We're... characters?"

You nodded your head, beginning to regret everything.

"You're very real to me, though! And many other fans. I...care a lot about you guys. That's, ah, how I know you so well."

From behind you, you heard the clatter of a weapon against the ground. You quickly spun around, taking on a slight offensive stance- almost a protective one in front of the S4 without so much as a second thought. You froze when you recognized your family.

Now from behind you, Aloha spoke:

"... you made us like you on purpose."

You do a double-take between your family and Aloha. You really didn't want to involve them, but you were panicked and not thinking straight.

"No- I,, actually did my best to avoid you guys as much as possible when I first got here, not wanting to mess with the story."

"What changed?" Army spoke.

"I grew comfortable. I felt safe around you guys...until now."

Army's shoulders slumped a bit at the statement, while Skull's frown faltered. Rider's eyes grew wide, and Aloha's jaw hung open a bit. That broke their hearts. Your family? - No. Your... team, stood frozen.

Leo's voice cracked as he spoke:

"You.. were just using us? Because you wanted to be some main character?"

"NO! .. no, I'm. Cod, no. Absolutely not. You're my family- and you.. mmm,, there's a lot to discuss right now, huh.. well, to put it simply- I never knew you guys existed before our first meeting. I promise you."

"But you just said-"

"You- Tasha, Milo, and Leo- weren't a part of the original story. I have no idea where you came from, in all honesty."

"Is that why you were so nervous about certain battles?"

"...Yes. Goggles was supposed to be in our place, winning against Emperor."

Leo chuckles.

"Hah, sounds like him."

He smiles.

Rider speaks up:

"So you cheated in all your battles?"

"I'm.. not sure what you consider cheating. Here, I should probably explain everything, huh..."

You explain how none of your battles were 'canon'. Obviously, since you and your... team, aren't a part of the original story. You explained everything as best as you could, hands still shaking. You attempted to soothe yourself by toying with the hem of your top.

"..then your skill, where did it come from? Everyone knows that you came outta nowhere."

"That's... something I don't quite understand either. Back in my world there were a few video games that gave me my quick reaction time- but being so good with my main gear specifically? No idea how it worked out that way. Maybe from analyzing your guys' play styles? Just like we did together," You gestured towards your team.

... It would be too much to explain that they were from a game, too. This was the best you could do.

It didn't quite add up, but Rider let it slide once he caught the way your hands were shaking.

"Soooo, what you're saaayiiing is that you've been... isekai'd?"

You chuckle lightheartedly at the idea. You nod, you suppose so.

Everyone has questions on their mind, but nobody dares speak up.

Will your family ditch you now? Does anyone still not believe you? The silence was deadly.

"No matter where you came from, your skill is still impressive." Skull was the first to speak up. As surprised as you should be, he was the first you'd assume would be so nonchalant, with that air-headedness of his.

You sighed out. That was two of them that seemed to at least partially be on your side.

Rider stood silent, while the others began calmly asking you questions.

"We're...characters?"

You freeze in place, attempting to script what you'll say next. Rider looked defeated.

"This world is very real. To you, and everyone else here. Including me. My world-back home almost feels... fake, for me to think about it. Like it no longer exists."

That seemed to relax him a little.

"Don't'chya miss your family?"

"I'm with my favorite characters ever, Leo. You think I miss my family? I mean yeah but..." You gesture towards the S4.

"Oh.. yeah, I guess, huh? Man, meeting them for the first time must've been totally wack compared to how it was for us meeting them. Like...woah. That'd be like meeting Squidsune Miku or some idol like that."

You giggle at the comparison, and nod. Something like that.

"What was the most difficult thing to adapt to?"

Army with the technological questions, of course.

"No taking notes, 'kay? But...cod the texture of the tentacles sure are weird. And why are they so sensitive! Hair shouldn't be like that!"

You do your best to keep everything you say calculated and lighthearted, noticing how they're still not completely certain on you.

Aloha finally speaks up.

"I...think I need to think this over."

His tone was one you never thought you'd hear from the eccentric squid. Thanks to it, the S4 members thought over the reality of the situation. Army's brows furrowed, Rider's shoulders slumped, Skull glanced away when you looked at him, and Mask looked between each of his teammates with an indistinguishable expression. It's almost as if they all realized how completely insane you sound. Since when are they this trustworthy? They're the S4. Nothing should get past them. They then backed away from you, one at a time, leaving you with your team.

They stood stuck in place too. You really did sound insane, didn't you? Were you trying to gaslight them? What if they are just characters, then what? Do their lives even matter?

Why didn't you tell your fam-team, anything? Have you been cheating this whole time?

"I think we need some time alone, too." Milo barely appeared apologetic.

You messed up, haven't you?

Looks like you were back to sleeping on that damned bench.

.

.

.

Next Part

May. 23, 24

[ali-anne-undertale-stoof]

And here's the second half!

First half

Chapter 16: Once Every Sentry

Grillby's was about as warm and welcoming as Papyrus remembered. At the same time, the smell of grease still lingered, but that's to be expected in a restaurant. Papyrus only wished he thought to bring his sniffer cloth.

As soon as the brothers stepped in, there was only a two second gap between their entrance and the sound of a bark directed at them.

"Hey, it's the brothers!"

"(Come sit with us!)"

Just like last time, Papyrus stilled at the amount of coolness he had been presented with. Sans was right. He is with the Royal Guard now, despite not actually being one yet. After a brief moment of realisation, he took Sans by the hand and rushed over, pulling the laid-back skeleton behind him.

"whoa! heh. excited, much?" Sans jokingly protested as they sat at the Royal Guards' table. It was like they were being accepted into the popular group. A dream come true for Papyrus!

"(Aww, tell us about it! Tell me, what have you two been up to lately?)" The Dogi leaned in, almost in sync. If they weren't married, then one could assume they were twins, in a stereotypical sense.

"W-WELL, I'M SURE YOU HAVE HEARD THAT I'M A SENTRY NOW!!!" Okay, okay, showing off to make yourself look better. Okay, Papyrus. "AND I'M REALLY GREAT AT IT!!! I MEAN, YES, IT'S MY FIRST DAY, BUT I THINK..."

"Bork!"

Papyrus' head whipped round to see both Lesser and Greater Dog sitting at the table. Lesser sat next to Sans, passing out cards to herself... and only herself. All the while, Sans peered over curiously to see what she was doing. Skeletons and dog monsters didn't get along so well in ancient times, Papyrus knew that. Dogs were natural predators to beings made out of bones. Of course, there's no animosity between the two species nowadays, but still, Papyrus couldn't help but feel those old, more feral instincts kick in whenever he saw his brother get a little too close to the large dog.

"WHOA WHOA!!!"

"Hey, shh..." Dogamy put up a hand to placate him. "It's okay. Lesser's pretty calm, she won't hurt a fly."

Papyrus felt himself blush at the description. So he was running away for nothing? "O-OH. UM... OKAY! SORRY, THEN!"

How was he ever going to befriend the Royal Guard at this rate?

Meanwhile, Sans quickly found himself zoning out during the conversation. Focus was rough when there's a billion little sounds flying into his skull all at once. At least the sounds were pleasant. That's only one reason why Sans loves Grillby's so much. The crackling of Grillby's fire, the sizzling burgers on the grill, the quiet conversations happening around him, the music... What was Papyrus saying? What were the dogs saying? It didn't matter right now. They weren't focused on him anyway. This whole trip was for Papyrus' sake, after all.

In his absent-minded state, Sans turned to Lesser Dog and found nothing but fluff. Huh. How much work did she have to do to maintain her fluffiness, he wondered? Would she mind if he just...

Trying to be subtle enough so she wouldn't notice, he gently brushed his cheek against the softness of Lesser's fur. Wow, now that WAS soft. Maybe he could put his finger to it? His hand? Both of them?

Now, that got her to notice.

Registering the pets, Lesser Dog's neck began to extend as her tail wagged in delight. The reaction briefly surprised Sans, but it didn't knock him out of his dissociation. Not completely, anyway. But even in his stimulated state, one coherent thought entered Sans' mind.

that was so cool.

"SO HOW DOES ONE PLACATE A DOG MONSTER WHILE YOU'RE TRYING TO MAKE AMAZING PUZZLES?"

The confused to-be Royal Guard slammed his fist on the table for emphasis, not frustration.

"(Well, sticks usually do the trick.)"

"Sticks do the trick for all of us, honey."

"(Yes, it's a guilty pleasure of mine.)"

Sticks, huh? Sticks for tricks...

"We also really enjoy the feeling of being pet. It's one of the most amazing things in the whole world."

And THAT, everyone, was what clicked inside Papyrus.

"YOU LIKE BEING PET TOO?!?!" He slammed both hands on the table and stood up enthusiastically. "OH MY GOD!!! I TOO LOVE BEING PET!!!! PETS ARE SUCH AN AMAZING SOURCE OF COMFORT, IT'S JUST... WELL... PETS!!! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!!!! PETS!!!!!!!!"

Doggo, who had been quiet this entire time, was startled out of his bored state, and immediately started barking. "What?! Pet?! PET! PAT! PET! POT! PAT! PET! POT! PET! PET! PAT!"

Startled by the sudden barks that this dog was releasing, Papyrus quickly turned to check on his emotional support brother to see if they needed to switch the roles. Sans' hearing holes were always super sensitive, after all. Why he didn't bring his ear defenders to Grillby's was beyond Papyrus' comprehension.

Instead, he found Sans frantically petting Lesser Dog's ever expanding giraffe neck at, ironically, the speed of sound. He didn't get it. Was it self-soothing, was it distractibility? A little dumbfounded, Papyrus' eye sockets followed the neck, only to find that it's not only bent at an awkward 90° angle when it hit the ceiling, but it's also on a few of the other tables, on the floor, and stopped on top of the bar. But it didn't mean that it wasn't ever expanding the longer Sans pet Lesser.

Now that has GOT to be a health and safety violation. And the other dogs agreed as Lesser's neck continued expanding, all the way to the other tables, and coming up to their table in turn.

"Wait, Sans! Stop!" One customer called out. And more were sure to follow.

"STOP STOP STOP STOP!"

"Lesser, get out of my chair!"

"Sans, stop petting Lesser!!!"

"Somebody stop him!"

"Is he even listening?!"

It was the combined shouts of all the Royal Guards and Papyrus' quick act of grabbing Sans' wrists and pulling him away, as well as Lesser's head coming into view just in front of Sans, that finally got him to-

"STOP!!!!"

The previously absent skeleton finally jolted out of his overstimulated headspace, only to find out that his pets caused Lesser's neck to literally go... everywhere. What was this? A jungle?

"...shoot."

"SANS!!! LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID!!!"

"Bork!"

Realising what his actions did, Sans sank into his chair and started laughing. Maybe if he sunk in his chair enough, it would swallow him up and he wouldn't have to live with the shame.

Oh, and of course Grillby had to come over. With the bill.

"...just put it on my tab."

--------

"i'm sorry."

"YOU'RE SORRY? THAT WAS A DISASTER, SANS!!!"

"i'm sorry."

"I MEAN, WHY WOULD YOU PET A DOG WITH AN ABILITY LIKE THAT INSIDE A RESTAURANT?!?!"

"i'm an animal lover, i can't help myself."

"UGH..."

The twins strolled on their patrol in the cold in the... other word that rhymes with stroll and patrol. Eh, even cold was a bit of a stretch, to be fair. It didn't take their cold stroll very long to take them to a different sentry station up the road, anyhow. And the one running it was one of the dogs from earlier, taking a dog treat in the one way one should never take a dog treat.

Papyrus eyed the smoker thoughtfully. "HMM... WELL, I DID GET ONE THING FROM THAT EXPERIENCE. OUR COWORKERS ARE QUITE NICE."

"yeah? well, let's go say hi."

"YES!!!" And there he went!

"wait, careful, pap. doggo has a disorder. he can't see-"

Nope nope nope, too late! Papyrus was always coming up behind Doggo. And in true Papyrus fashion, he popped up loudly and suddenly.

"HI!!!"

Doggo's immediate reaction was calm and collected.

"BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK! DANGER DANGER BARK BARK WOOF BARK BARK BARK BARK!"

So... loud...

And Sans was gone.

"SANS!!! WAIT!!!" Papyrus frantically called out after his fleeing brother. "WHAT DID I DO WRONG?!?!"

About a mile or so away did Sans stop running and practically collapse on the ground, wheezing and spluttering as Papyrus caught up to him.

"SANS, WHAT WAS THAT?" Papyrus wasn't angry at the whole ordeal, far from it. Inside, he knew that it was his fault Sans ran away. If he hadn't been so overeager... Wait, no! Don't focus on that! He needed to help his brother, not waste away in self-pity!

Speaking of his brother, Sans was... really exaggerating this, gosh.

He barely wheezed out a sentence. "hhhh... hhhh... i can't run that much, bro. hhhh..."

"OH, SHUSH, SANS! YOU TALK LIKE I'M THE ONE WHO FORCED YOU TO RUN!"

He supposed in a way, he did.

"sorry about that... hhh... hhh..."

"NO, IT'S FINE! I'M SORRY FOR TRIGGERING THAT! WHAT WAS THAT, ANYWAY?"

Sans wheezed out yet another sentence. "doggo can't... see things that aren't moving... hhh... hhh..."

Huh. Is that so? Then that means...

"SANS, DON'T YOU GET IT??? THAT MEANS I HAVE A CHANCE!!! IF UNDYNE IS WILLING TO HIRE SOMEONE WITH A DISABILITY LIKE THAT, THEN I CAN BE A ROYAL GUARD TOO!!! OH, THIS IS AMAZING!!! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!!"

Sans miraculously recovered out of confusion and shock. "what?"

"AHH, YOU'RE BETTER!!! NOW, LET'S GO GET TO KNOW THE OTHER SENTRIES!!!"

"hm. nah. i'm still incapacitated."

"OH MY GOD, SANS, YOU'RE FINE! GET UP!"

"nope. still dying."

That smug look on his face said otherwise. Fine. If that was how he was going to play. Papyrus took Sans by the ankle and dragged him along like one of those holiday bags.

"wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..."

What were they called again? Suitcases?

"wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..."

They had a handle and go on wheels.

"wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..."

You see them all the time at airports.

"wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..."

Wait, what's an airport?

Papyrus stopped in his tracks when he saw a sign planted into the ground. It was situated right next to a giant snowball and a floor of ice. Two sentry stations sat on the other side. So, what did the sign say?

Warning: Dog Marriage.

Terrifying.

"what's so scary about a dog marriage?"

It's called sarcasm- Never mind.

"WELL, JUST IMAGINE IT!!! TWO DOGS ARE MARRIED, WHICH MEANS DOUBLE THE DOGGY TROUBLE!!!"

"and double the doggy dung."

"SANS!!!"

"what? it's true."

"UGH, AT LEAST ANTHROPOMORPHIC DOGS ARE MORE SOPHISTICATED THAN A CERTAIN DOG I KNOW!" With that sentence, Papyrus whipped his head around so fast, he snapped his neck. But that didn't affect him at all as he stared directly into a suspicious-looking bush. The little white dog that was hiding in there silently wondered how Papyrus was instantly able to find it, and slunk back into the bushes.

"COME TO THINK OF IT, AREN'T THEY SUPPOSED TO BE AT THEIR STATION?! PFFT, THEY'RE JUST AS BAD AS YOU."

"hey, don't sweat it, bro. i'm sure they're nearby. we just gotta sniff 'em out."

"YES, LIKE DOGS DO!!! THAT'S A BRILLIANT IDEA, BROTHER!!!" Dropping Sans' ankle, Papyrus got on all fours and started simultaneously sniffing and crawling around on the snowy ground until somehow, he got a 'scent'. Once he did, he stiffened up, pointing his non-existent nose in the exact direction of the bush between the sentry stations with a SPROING!!!

"AHA!!! FOLLOW MY LEAD, SANS!!! BARK BARK!!! BARK BARK!!! BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK!!!" With the energy of a golden retriever, Papyrus dashed on all fours in a circle before finally galloping to his destination.

Sans groaned, silently lamenting the fact that he's gonna have to WALK now. Reluctantly, he got off the comfortable snow and followed his golden retriever brother as he flipped and somersaulted like he just entered some kind of ninja-acrobat tournament.

With one final frontflip-backflip-triple-combo-supreme, Papyrus landed on his own two feet and sprinted towards the bush, and opened it like he just found his friend in hide-and-seek.

"AHA!!!"

Papyrus confident smile shifted into a surprised expression as he saw the Dogi passionately making out in the bushes. On duty. In their uniforms. And they looked just as surprised as Papyrus was.

With a gasp, Papyrus' eyes began to sparkle.

"AWW, THAT'S SO CUTE!!!"

And of course, Sans wasn't far behind him. "aww, that's disgusting."

Dogaressa shot up first, surprised, not embarrassed. "(What are you two doing?)"

Papyrus remained oblivious as ever. "OH, WE JUST WANTED TO GET TO KNOW OUR VERY COOL COWORKERS!!! AND PERHAPS SEE YOUR COOL AND AWESOME PUZZLES?"

Sans blinked. Puzzles? When did that come up? Of course, Papyrus is OBSESSED with puzzles. He couldn't help but smile fondly.

Dogamy stood up and chuckled. "Well, you're in luck. We have one just close by. Follow us."

It took all the puzzle lover's willpower to not squeal in front of the Royal Guard. What could he do? Flap his hands? Stomp his feet? Yes yes. He did that. Run after them because they're walking away and he had to follow them? Yep, yep, Papyrus was on that.

The brief chase quickly came to a halt when he saw his brother and the Dogi standing over a large ice rink, right next to a snowball.

"SO, WHERE'S THE PUZZLE?"

Dogamy chuckled. "This is the puzzle, Papyrus."

"WAIT, WHAT?" Papyrus gazed suspiciously at the ice rink. Surely they're joking. Surely THIS wasn't the puzzle they were talking about. Where's the spikes? Where's the flames?! Well, Papyrus didn't have any flames with his puzzle, but at least he had something to stop the human with! This is just a game!

As Dogaressa was setting up the snowball for Sans, Papyrus decided to speak up about the puzzle.

"WELL, FORGIVE ME IF I COME OFF AS A LITTLE RUDE, BUT AREN'T PUZZLES SUPPOSED TO HALT HUMANS? HOW IS THIS GOING TO STOP ANYONE?"

"(We'll demonstrate. Go ahead, Sans.)" Dogaressa pat Sans' back before stepping out of the way.

"sure thing."

One step, two step, three- SPLAT!

The slippered skeleton slipped slippingly on the slippery ice sliperringingingly. Due to the impact of the fall, the snowball was practically snow-mush. A squeaky creak (or was it a creaky squeak?) emitted from the dastardly ice as Sans slowly, slowly slid across it, flat on his face.

And he didn't move.

"SANS!!!" The worried skeleton instinctively stepped forward to get a better look at Sans' condition.

Welp. Sans shall live in the ice now.

"hehehehehehehehehehe..."

Now everything was crystal clear... or, well, ice clear. This game... It was a trap. A devious puzzle hidden under the guise of an innocent golf game. Yes... Papyrus understood now.

"INCREDIBLE!!! YOU DEVIOUS DOGS!!! YOU MUTTLEY MASTERMINDS!!! YOU PUZZLING POOCHES!!! YOU TOOK AN INNOCENT GAME AND TURNED IT ON ITS HEAD!!! YOU TRULY ARE WORTHY OF BEING ROYAL GUARDS!!!"

The married couple snickered and wheezed to themselves, covering their snoots so Papyrus couldn't hear their snorts.

"IT'S REMARKABLE..." Papyrus steeled himself and huffed. "YOU HAVE EARNED MY RESPECT, DOGI!" Little did they know, they earned his respect long ago. "BUT YOU DON'T KNOW THAT YOU ARE TALKING TO A TRUE PUZZLE MASTER!!!"

"more like puzzle nerd."

"SHUT UP, SANS!!! I'M TRYING TO MAKE A DRAMATIC SPEECH!!! GO BACK TO BEING A DUMMY!!!"

Sans did just that.

"I CAN BEAT YOUR PUZZLE, NO PROBLEM!!! AND I CAN PROVE IT TO YOU!!! PASS ME THE BALL!!!"

Smiling, the Dogi gave Papyrus a tennis ball that was... covered in dog drool.

"WHAT THE?! EW, NO!!!" Freaked out, Papyrus tossed the ball into the bushes. "I MEANT A SNOWBALL!!!"

"Oh, right!"

"(Our bad, Papyrus.)"

Wagging their tails, panting, and kissing each other constantly, the Dogi set up an extra large snowball for Papyrus.

"THANK YOU!!! NOW... WATCH THE GREAT PAPYRUS IN ALL HIS GLORY AS HE COMPLETES THE PUZZLE IN LESS THAN FIFTEEN SECONDS!!! AAAAAAND GO!!!"

Papyrus propelled himself on his feet as he skid around Sans, rolling the snowball with one hand.

The puzzle had minimal obstacles. A tight space, a patch of snow... It was easy peasy!

At the 10 second mark, Papyrus could see the goal in sight!

"I'M GONNA MAKE IT!!!" Papyrus beamed brightly! It was right there! He should make it under five seconds!!!

But alas...

"Bork bork!" A certain little white dog had returned to ruin his day, with the very ball the skeleton had thrown not too long ago.

"YOU!!!!" Unprepared, Papyrus proceeded to trip over the dog, just short of the goal. He slid across the ice with a squeaky squeak, or was it a creaky creak? "CURSES!!!!"

To add insult to injury, the ball just missed the goal.

Now, in usual circumstances, Papyrus would get up immediately and start chasing the dog for its insolence. But considering the fact that the Royal Guard were right there, who were also dogs, and he humiliated himself in front of them?

Yeah. Papyrus shall live in ice now.

And of course, Dogaressa was practically howling with laughter.

"(Oh goodness, you two are too silly! Here, let me show you how it's done.)"

Of course! If anyone could finish this puzzle, it was the creators!

And of paws, Dogaressa's attempt went a lot better than the brothers'.

Dogamy howled in support of his darling. "You got this, honey bun sugar plum!"

"(Never call me that again.)"

"I'll take your fleas for you!"

"(Okay, you can call me that!)"

"Bork bork!"

"(Wait, is that my ball?)"

And that, dear audience, is where Dogaressa's finest hour came to a sharp end.

"(WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF-)"

Squeak! Crash!

Having a heavy, armoured Royal Guard dog on top of him wasn't in Papyrus' plans, but he supposed he could fit it into his schedule. If only he could get Sans to access his... Wait, was he sleeping?!?!

At least one thing came out of this.

A chiptune jingle played as the insolent pup nudged Papyrus' snowball into the goal. A cyan flag slowly raised before the bone-and-dog pile, its attempt at assuring them backfiring into mockery.

And to top it all off, Sans was still giggling at the whole thing.

Yup. This was a disaster.

--------

"you did great, bro."

"YOU REALLY THINK SO?"

"yeah, you got further than me."

"THAT DOESN'T SAY MUCH, SANS."

"yeah, but out of everyone, you got the closest to your goal. if that dog didn't come, you would've done it."

"I KNOW! THAT STUPID DOG!!!"

"hey, take it easy. no need to be so ruff on yourself."

"...SANS."

"come on, you're smiling."

"NO, I'M NOT!!!"

"you are! come on, you can't hide it from me."

"SANS, I SWEAR TO THE DELTA RUNE, DON'T DO THAT!!!"

"come on, where's my happy papy?"

"SANS, NO!!!"

"wheeeeere's my happy papy?"

"SAHAHAHAHAHANS!!!!"

Just the exchange the brothers needed after a game of humiliation and denial of triumph. Papyrus didn't want Sans to know that he was cheering him up. Unspoken brotherly law. But the light tickles Sans was giving his spine made it super difficult for him to stay grumpy.

"SAHAHAHANS! WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE WOHORKING!!!" With that, Papyrus gently pushed his mischievous brother to the snowy ground. "STOP IT!!!"

Sans was too amused to care about being knocked down. "looks like i found him."

A reluctant smile slipped onto the taller skeleton's face. Emotional support brother, indeed.

It's been a while since they were able to have this. This was it. The reason why Papyrus set Sans up to be on the same job as him. And judging by Sans' behaviour, it was a good decision on his part. Just one more victory for the Great Papyrus!

Unfortunately, the moment was interrupted by a strong stench. A strong, cheesy, meaty stench that overwhelmed Papyrus' senses and sent him into a coughing, spluttering fit.

"EUGH!!! SA-*COUGH COUGH COUGH* WHAT IS THA-*COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH*" Papyrus fell to his knees as tears welled up in his eye sockets. Spotting the signs of an instant shutdown, Sans rushed to Papyrus and grabbed his scarf. He gently pressed the scarf against his suffering brothers' nasal cavity, all the while he resisted his own overwhelming urge to protect himself from the stench.

"hey, it's okay. it's okay, bro. hold me."

Still coughing a little, Papyrus placed one arm under Sans' femurs and lifted him off the ground. Given their height difference, it made it much easier for Sans to block Papyrus' ever so sensitive nasal cavity while his brother recovered.

"cheese, that's bad."

With a final cough, Papyrus quickly recovered. "I'D LIKE TO MEAT THIS DISGUSTING PUPETRATOR!!!"

"okay, just keep holding onto me. we'll figure out the sauce."

The worst smelling sauce stench the brothers had ever known. And they were going in together, as they always would.

Using Sans' not-as-sensitive sniffer, the brothers followed the stench to a stench-try station. Doggo's sentry station. And there he was, puffing up dog treats like a factory pumps out harmful chemicals. Not that anyone in the underground ever had access to that. And these chemicals were only harmful to the soul and Papyrus' senses.

Doggo's back was turned and his eyes were closed, which had set his chances of seeing the twins as very low. Which was perfect, as Sans had a bright idea.

He whispered into Papyrus' hearing hole, "take me to the bell."

And surprisingly, Papyrus was quite quiet. Despite being so close to the source that even the scarf didn't help all that much, he was just as determined as Sans was to make it go away. Sans' hand reached for the bell.

Ding!

Doggo's ears perked up and he dropped the treat, scrambling around as the brothers ducked and hid.

"Who was that?! Where was that?! Who's there?! Are you a human?!" Doggo's head whipped back and forth so frantically it was giving him whiplash.

Behind the nearest tree, the brothers slowly peeked out to watch the dog... To watchdog the watchdog? Anyway, Doggo continued his momentary freak out until he realised that no one was there.

An idea struck Sans as Doggo sighed in relief. As soon as he got back to lighting those stinkbombs they call dog treats...

DING!

"Who?! What?! Where?! Who?! Where?! Where?! Who?! What?!"

Well, Papyrus thought. Lowercasers are notorious for being sneaky.

Covering his mouth and nasal cavity with his scarf, the ball of energy snickered as he watched his brother mess with Doggo. Of course, this only served to encourage Sans even more.

Every time Doggo went back to those treats, Sans had a new way to ring the bell.

With his foot.

With a bone attack.

Even his own nasal cavity.

Unfortunately, there was one setback for Sans...

"BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK!!!!"

Papyrus, who quickly sensed his brother's distress, pulled him away from the loud barks and covered his ossicles behind the tree. Now that his nasal cavity had been freed from sensory hell, it was Sans' turn to be pulled out.

"SANS, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!"

Doggo's barks stopped at the sound of Papyrus' voice. A deep breath... A heavy sigh...

"...Skeletons."

"...HELLO."

"...If you ring my bell like that again... I'm going to lose it."

Papyrus nodded sheepishly. "UNDERSTOOD."

"Thank you."

That glint in Sans' eyelights... Oh dear. Papyrus knew what was going to happen.

Papyrus gave Sans a look. SANS, THAT IS NOT AN INVITATION. DON'T DO IT.

Sans gave Papyrus the biggest grin ever. i'm gonna do it.

NOOOO, DON'T YOU DO IT!

c'mon, you know you wanna.

OH, I DO, BUT I DON'T WANT TO GET IN TROUBLE!

when have we ever not gotten in trouble?

Ding!

"Okay, that's enough!"

Suddenly, the world around them began to lose all its colour, and the brothers alongside Doggo felt more pixelated. Oh boy.

"OH, NOW LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE!!!"

"hhhhhhhhhh..."

Papyrus, who was never adverse to a spar or two, knew what this was. He's no stranger to the ENCOUNTER. Sans, on the other hand, was a lot more pacifistic and rarely got into fights. Papyrus knew that. And he could tell Sans was trying to make sense of what was going on. Despite all that, though, Papyrus wasn't worried. Sans is a quick learner, he should get it in about- HOLY MACARONI!!!!!

A giant blue sword flew their way.

"SANS, WATCH OUT!!!"

Acting on instinct, Papyrus dived after his brother and glomped him, holding him close to his chest. What he didn't think about was the fact that Sans was a good dodger and was literally just about to dodge the sword.

"what the? pap, let go!"

"NO, I'M SAVING YOUR LIFE!"

"by pinning me here???"

"YES!!!!"

"oh my god..."

"HOLD ON TIGHT!!!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..."

The brothers froze on the spot as the blue sword went straight through them. Absolutely no damage. None. Blue stop signs and all that.

When the twins opened their eye sockets, they could see that the world went back to normal.

"Hmph. That should teach you two."

...

"WAIT, WHAT?!"

"that was it?"

"I can hear you two shaking!"

It was true. It was hard to muffle rattling sounds once they started. And Sans and Papyrus were definitely shaken up from the false alarm. Or could you say they were rattled?

"Y-YEAH... W-WELL... I DIDN'T PRESS THE BELL, SO THERE!"

"It was more of a lesson for your brother than anything. Don't ring my bell unless you really need me."

Sans stared at the bell. From the look in his eyelights, Papyrus could tell. Sans didn't learn a thing.

"SANS, DON'T DO IT."

...

Ding!

Sans only had time to give off one last mischievous grin before Doggo tackled him to the ground.

"NYEH HEH HEH!!! KARMA!!!"

--------

Snowdin Town looked wonderful when the daylights were in the "dusk" process. The way the golden light reflected off the fresh, white snow was a sight to behold. Too bad that most of it was covered in footprints from various residents, including the two skeleton brothers.

One of them proceeded to brag to the other about his upcoming training.

"SO, SINCE I'M OBVIOUSLY A TOP TIER FIGHTER, SHE'S GOING TO GIVE ME TRAINING THAT FOCUSES ON... OTHER ASPECTS OF BEING A ROYAL GUARD."

"what? like first aid?"

"NO."

"law? boring."

"NO!!! COOKING!!!"

"...cooking."

"YES!!! SHE SAID ALL GOOD ROYAL GUARDS NEED TO KNOW HOW TO COOK!"

Something about this felt... off. But then again... "i mean, i guess it's good in case of an emergency."

"EXACTLY!!! THAT'S WHY SHE'S GIVING ME COOKING LESSONS!!! UH, I THINK SO, ANYWAY." Papyrus smiled down proudly at his tiny brother. "SAY, YOU COULD COME ALONG IF YOU LIKE! YOU COULD LEARN HOW TO BAKE WITHOUT USING VINEGAR AS A SUBSTITUTE!"

To Sans, cooking lessons sounded wonderful. But... Would he even have the time for that? Sure, he has a stable job now, but... There's also his shows... and his project. A project he's currently procrastinating on, but it was still very important. And of course, there's the hotdog stand. There's too much of a demand for him not to run it. Three jobs and a project... That didn't leave him much time.

"nah, sorry, bro. i guess i'll have to skip the lessons. too much work."

"...OH.

Sans was no idiot (most of the time) and Papyrus was not good at hiding his emotions. He noticed how his shoulders fell slightly.

Quickly responding, Sans smiled and placed a hand on Papyrus' shoulder. "hey, at least we get to work together now. we can hang out all the time now. doesn't that sound cool?"

Papyrus hummed. Even if Sans didn't come to train with him, having a job together, living together... just being together is more than enough. With that thought, Papy perked up once more.

"YEAH!!! IT SOUNDS AMAZING!!!"

"and i cut back on my little jobs too, so i could read you bedtime stories anytime you want."

Now THAT got Papyrus' eyes sparking! "REALLY?!"

Sans' only response was a chuckle, but that's all Papyrus needed to hear before he glomped him.

"OH, SANS, I'M SO HAPPY I DID THIS!!!"

"...heh." As if on autopilot, Sans wrapped his arms around Papyrus' shoulders tightly. It's as if he could just melt right here, in this spot. If he did, well, he would've melted as the happiest skeleton in the world.

The hug lasted for a while. How long? Ten seconds? Twenty seconds? It didn't matter. Not a single second was awkward, it was all just bliss.

Even when the brothers finally released each other, they still didn't let go. Sans kept his hand on Papyrus' back, and Papyrus kept his on the back of Sans' head. They walked together like this, their house in plain sight.

Just Sans and Papyrus, against the world. It's how it's always been, and how it'll always be.

"me too, papyrus. me too."

[lilacella]

So, Sirius didn't like being touched. And James liked touching. A recipe for desaster, one would think, but with James everything was different. When James had hugged him in the bathroom in first year, it hadn't felt overwhelming, restricting or otherwise unpleasant. It had felt safe. When James grabbed his arm to excitedly pull him towards the Quidditch field on game days it felt nice. When James casually wrapped an arm around him when they sat together, Sirius melted into his touch, reveling in the warmth of James' body. So maybe he liked being touched, but only by James.

Reindeer Games

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Chapter 2/5: Third Year

"Can you two tone it down a little, please? I'm really tired," Remus mumbled in his pillow. It was already past midnight but Sirius and James weren't ready for sleep yet. There was so much to do, so much to plan!

They had just gotten the map to finally work! Well, at least it was moving now. The accuracy of the marker positions still had room for improvement - people seemed to be walking straight through the walls, sometimes at unreasonable speeds - but overall it was syncing with the castle. It had taken them two years and many late night trips into the forbidden section to do this and they were very proud of themselves. Of course Remus and Peter had helped, but the intricate magic at the core of the map had been their work.

"Oh come on Remus..." James complained.

"Sorry but I really need to rest. Can't you just continue this tomorrow?"

That wasn't an option at all. So instead Sirius decided to pull James from the floor over to his bed:

"Just come over, James. We can close the curtains and use a muffling spell."

There they were laying now, on their stomachs, shoulder on shoulder peering onto the map. Sirius chewed absentmindedly on his lip.

"We should protect it somehow. What if someone catches us with it and takes it? We'd loose all our work!"

James nodded in agreement.

"We need a password. Like the Portals to the houses. It should stay obscured until you say it."

"Hmmm...what should we take though? It would be an issue if we forgot it."

"It should have a meaning for us." James leaned a little against Sirius, eliciting the familiar tingle on his skin that he always felt when they were touching. It was nice being so close to James.

James squinted his eyes.

"Maybe an oath? Like...I solemnly swear that I..."

"Am up to no good," completed Sirius with a giggle that James joined immediately.

"Yes, that's perfect, let's go with that. If the others have a better idea we can always change it. Let me do it."

James pulled the map towards himself and started casting charms onto the thick paper. Sirius put his head onto his crossed arms and watched him. He liked watching James practice magic. He was good at it. Something about the way he uttered the words and how his face looked when he concentrated made Sirius feel warm and fuzzy. James really was his best friend.

They spend some more time tinkering with the map but, as time passed, both of them became more quiet. Sirius was awfully tired. But he didn't want James to go yet, didn't want to give up the casual intimacy of sharing a bed, a space where it was just the two of them.

Both of them had now fully laid down, sharing Sirius' pillow and duvet. It was starting to get a little chilly with the December air permeating the walls of the castle. They weren't really talking anymore, just looking at each other, every once in a while one of them would crack a stupid joke, making the other break out into a sleepy giggle.

"I'm so tired," James mumbled. "But I don't want to leave. It's so comfortable."

Sirius smiled into the pillow.

"I mean, if you want, you can just stay here."

"You sure?" James asked, eyes already closed. Sirius reached out to remove his glasses.

"Sure. Bed's big enough for both of us 'innit?"

James made an affirmative noise and soon his breathing evened out and he was fast asleep.

Sirius wanted to do nothing more than join him in his peaceful slumber, but he couldn't. It wasn't because he wasn't comfortable. He really was. James was warm and he smelled good and Sirius didn't mind that they were touching a little. It was rather that his heart just wouldn't calm down. Maybe he had gotten too excited about the map? Or maybe he was freaked out by the dark. That happened sometimes, although he didn't really feel scared right now. Still, he shuffled a little closer to James, just in case it helped. It didn't really. But being close to James was nice. It was really nice. Sirius caught himself wishing that James would always sleep next to him.

And, from now on, James did. Not every night, but often enough, the two of them fell asleep sharing one of their four-posters. It was just more convenient like that, they told the others: They could stay up and talk as long as they wanted, without getting on Remus nerves and it was more comfortable than their usual corner on the dorm room floor. Wrapped up in the same duvet, and sometimes in each others arms - in a small bed you had to somehow organize yourselves - talking and snickering until they both drifted off to sleep. Sirius secretely loved it when James threw an arm around him in his sleep or moved his head onto his chest. He liked touching him. And there was nothing wrong with that. They were just good friends sharing a bed.

In general, Sirius wasn't much of a fan of other people touching him. He despised people that tapped his back with their finger to gain his attention. He didn't like it, when someone randomly put their hand on his shoulder while they talked. He didn't appreciate people hugging him when he was upset - it only made things worse.

Touch had always been something he viewed as a massive breach of boundaries. At home, there was none of it. Sirius couldn't remember that his parents had ever hugged him. He wasn't even sure if they had carried him as a baby since he remembered that his younger brother Regulus had always been either pushed around in his cradle or carried by their houself Kreacher. When his parents touched him, it was about control. His father would put a hand on his shoulder to steer him into the direction he wanted him to go. His mother would grab his arm to keep him into place, grab his chin to force him to look at her.

So, Sirius didn't like being touched. And James liked touching. A recipe for desaster, one would think, but with James everything was different. When James had hugged him in the bathroom in first year, it hadn't felt overwhelming, restricting or otherwise unpleasant. It had felt safe. When James grabbed his arm to excitedly pull him towards the Quidditch field on game days it felt nice. When James casually wrapped an arm around him when they sat together, Sirius melted into his touch, reveling in the warmth of James' body. So maybe he liked being touched, but only by James.

And with their new co-sleeping habit further normalizing their physical closeness, James reached out for Sirius more and more.

"There aren't any more seats," James says as he squeezes with Sirius onto a single armchair in the common room ending up almost sitting on his lap.

"I just need something to figet with," James explains to Remus, who watches questioningly how James is playing with Sirius hand while they are talking, absentmindedly brushing his fingers over his or pushing his hand up Sirius' sleeves, touching his arm.

"I'm just tired," Sirius says as he drops his head onto James shoulder when they sit together in the library.

"All the girls do this too," James says, when some of his Quidditch teammates give him weird looks for holding Sirius' hand on the way to class.

"It's cold!" Sirius says when James and him snuggle up together under a blanket, while they plot the next prank with the other two.

"Do you think this is weird," James asked as they both lounged on Sirius bed again. James head was resting on Sirius chest, looking up to him, Sirius was drawing circles on James arm with his finger.

"Why? Do you think it is?" Sirius tried to hide the uncertainty in his voice.

"No. I think...I think were just friends. And there is nothing wrong with friends...well we're just hanging out aren't we?"

Sirius nodded.

"Yeah. Why would there be something wrong with that?"

James smiled and sighed comfortably. Then he reached out for Sirius hand and intertwined their fingers. Sirius wondered whether James could hear his heartbeat speed up. But if he did, he didn't say anything.

When summer rolled around, Sirius had gotten so used to constantly touching James that the thought of spending two whole months without him seemed much more daunting than it usually had been anyways. On the last night before the ride home they were laying in James four-poster, tightly snuggled up against each other. James had tucked Sirius in his arms and was playing with his fingers.

"I will miss you," Sirius said quietly, feeling awfully heavy. James squeezed his hand.

"I will miss you too. It really sucks that your parents won't let us meet."

Sirius sighed and pressed his cheek against James' shoulder. He could feel tears burn in his eyes. He really didn't want to go home. He wanted to stay here with James. He also didn't want to cry, but with James it was so easy.

James immediately picked up on his sadness and hugged him tighter.

"It's okay. We'll just talk through the mirrors!"

Sirius sniffled and nodded. The mirrors. At least they would be able to see each other this time.

"I just hope my parents won't catch me with it. They'll definitely take it away."

"But couldn't you just make a new one? You made these yourself, didn't you?"

"Yes but I'm not sure how long it would take. It's a pretty finicky spell. And I would have to make a new pair. So I wouldn't be able to call you until I'd given you the other..." His voice trailed off at the thought. A tear trickled down his cheek. He needed James.

**

"We have to talk quietly," Sirius whispered into the mirror. "Otherwise Regulus might hear and then he certainly will tell mother."

"Okay," James responded with a hushed voice. Sirius smiled. These little talks with James every night, hidden underneath the covers in case someone came in, the only light coming from his wand, were the only thing that kept him afloat during the long days at Grimmauld Place 13. He hated this house. It was dark and narrow and always felt cold despite the many fireplaces. From everywhere the portraits were watching you. Sirius had long stopped feeling at home here. Sometimes he just wanted to run away.

"What did you do today," he asked James. James detailed reports about his fun summer activities always cheered him up. The more James talked, the more it felt like he had been with him. When James had finished he leaned his head onto his hands.

"And you? What did you do today?"

Sirius sighed heavily.

"Not much. Hid in the library most of the day. Regulus had his awful friends over."

"Crouch and Rosier? Can't you just hex them?"

Sirius shook his head.

"I mean...I could, but this is isn't Hogwarts. There is only one person who could have done it in this house and...I just want to get through this bloody summer." Sirius dropped his head onto his arms. He missed James painfully.

"Right. Get it. But it's just five more weeks," James tried to cheer him up unsuccessfully.

"That's so long! I wish I could just drink a potion and sleep through it."

"I don't think that would be healthy."

Sirius shrugged. He didn't care about that.

"I just wish you were here. Or I was with you."

"Yeah that would be nice. I miss...I miss you. Maybe we should have exchanged sweaters or something, so we'd have something of each other."

Sirius heart skipped a beat at James' words.

"We could do that next summer." He paused and rubbed his eyes. "Merlin, I'm so tired."

"Do you want to stop talking?"

Sirius hesitated for a moment.

"Can you...Can you maybe just stay a little. Until I have fallen asleep? Just tell me something. About Quidditch or whatever you want..."

"Yes. Sure I can do that. Sooo...brooms! Did you know they are making a new Cloudsweeper? It's supposed to be twice as fast as the Dragoncatcher 79 Pro..."

Sirius leaned the mirror against a book, still under the blanket and got cozy. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off, the comforting sound of James voice lulling him to sleep. He couldn't wait for September.

[starmocha]

i cannot fucking believe we actually got a wedding banner

i mean sure it wasn't a wedding and the dresses were only "gowns".

but like the most important part of a wedding, I'd say, are the vows and we got that.

i cannot fucking believe I sent you an ask saying it wouldn't surprise me if zaynemc did it at the library after the wedding

turns out it's very much implied they did it on the bed of the foreseer's tower while living in there for a few days

seeing zayne being rendered into a panting mess by mc was so good

NOW

was i really that shocked to find out zayne will do you in public if the opportunity presents itself? not really, he's always been pretty freaky

but I swear to god I was shocked SHOCKED to hear him ask "isn't that why you fell in love me?"

shocked in the best way possible STILL

he knows he's smart, he knows he's handsome, he knows he's funny, he knows we love him 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

AND HOW CUTE

OH MY LORD

HOW CUTE WAS HIM GETTING A BLANKET AND SITTING NEXT TO MC JUST BECAUSE HE WANTED TO SPEND TIME WITH HER

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

And how lovely it was that she watched him perform a surgery for 9 hours 🥹

AND THE DR FROM THE HOSPITAL THEY WERE

THIS DR THAT WAS FROM ANOTHER CITY

WHO LOOKED AT MC AND SAID "AH YOU'RE DR ZAYNE'S SIGNIFICANT OTHER"

HOLY COW 😭😭😭

I don't know if I was more afraid of reading the wedding banner card or the 5th intercostal space one because one involved the tower and the art for the other one had him looking exhausted and it had a bit if a gloomy feeling

And this was literally his first cards after main story update

I tried to prepare myself for all the hurt and little comfort these cards would give me

BUT THEY WERE SO WHOLESOME AND BEAUTIFUL

My babies supporting each other, getting married

i love that zaynemc had to go an extra mile and literally ressonate into their wedding clothes too like they were in a fairy tale

I was not expecting something so moving and so cute 💕💕💕🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 i'm blown away by the entire thing

🥹 They're exchanging vows and affirming their commitment to one another and their relationship. All of this is "witnessed by Deepspace," so I say it's a wedding! It's very private and intimate, like an elopement! I think it's a very creative way of writing a "wedding" story to show their relationship deepening instead of how other otome games would do "wedding" banners by just having them dressed up for photoshoots or other fake scenarios.

slalksklsslk I love how public sex + Zayne is such a normal and accepted topic in this fandom, like, yes, that is our big snowman 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

I LOVED THAT LINE. I WAS GRINNING LIKE A FOOL. Also pretty sure my brain short-circuited for a full ten seconds before I processed that, because it was so cute and unexpected of him to say that. 🥹

HONESTLY, THAT WHOLE 4* CARD WAS SO WHOLESOME IN A SWEET WAY. God, I was fearing the worst, like maybe he had lost another patient in surgery. Like, just something horrendous happened during surgery out of his control, but thank god it didn't go that route.

The little silent exchange he and MC had while he was exhausted. The way he could only just mouth his words to her and motioned the time his shift would end 🥹

I'm loving the way Zayne and MC's relationship is developing. They've come so far since a year ago when things were still awkward and there was some misunderstanding between them. Now, they feel so in sync and their relationship is so healthy and kinky and beautiful and 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[strawheart-pirate]

Discount

Blackleg Sanji x gn!Reader

December 15th 2023 Words: 1177 CW: SFW / Modern AU / no/pre relationship / mentions of alcohol, but no drinking / flirting / very suggestive talk / a kiss / Sanji may be a bit ooc, but he’s precious

You met up with Sanji to go Christmas shopping and got more than you bargained for.

You waited outside the mall to meet Sanji. The traffic was much lighter than you expected, so you arrived a little early. Sanji was on time and complained that you hadn't told him. He felt bad that you had to wait. You shrugged it off and assured him that it wasn't a big deal before you both entered the mall.

"Are you ready for our big Christmas gift hunt? What do you have on your list?" Sanji asked with a determined smile.

"I have to get something for my father. He discovered his love for whisky this year. So, I thought maybe you could recommend something?" I asked Sanji. "What do you need?"

"I want to buy a new suit for myself and something for my sister, but I don't know exactly what. Could you help me with that?"

"Of course, Sanji. Let's go!"

It took you three stops to find the perfect gift for Reiju: a white headset with cat ears, neon lights and pink details. You'd been to Sanji's house many times, and you'd seen her in online games often enough. You were sure she would like it. Sanji was pleased that you were so attentive, and the two of you made your way to the next shop.

"So, what kind of whisky has your father tried so far?" asked Sanji as he slowly walked down the aisle, looking at the variety of fine whiskies.

"He had one of those classic bourbons and one with a strong, smoky aroma. The ones where you open the bottle and the whole room smells like you're sitting in the smoke of a bonfire." You wrinkled your nose.

"I see. And which did he like better?" asked Sanji, scratching his short goatee thoughtlessly.

"I think it was the smoky one." You looked at the bottles. Some were fancy, others simple.

"Then maybe we should go for something in between. Smooth, but with a nice smoky flavor. Let's see... Ah, this would be good." He took the bottle from the shelf and handed it to you. "It's not too expensive either. What do you think of it?"

"Looks good," you said, looking at the bottle and reading the text on it. It sounded very appropriate for your father and you smelled it. The smell of smoke made you wrinkle your nose, but it was a much more pleasant smell than the last one your father had.

"Yes, I like this one. We'll take it with us. Thanks, Sanji." You gave him a grateful smile.

"The pleasure was all mine." He said gently as you paid and you both left with another gift inside the bag.

Jolly Christmas music played as you entered the next shop. It was a suit shop and Sanji was a regular customer here. He knew exactly where to look. But before he decided if he wanted to try on an item, he showed it to you to get your approval. Soon he had three different suits in his arms and you walked over to the dressing rooms. Mariah Carey's "All I Want For Christmas Is You" was playing as you sat on one of the chairs and waited for Sanij to change and show you the first suit. You bobbed your head to the music.

The song was coming to an end when the curtain was pulled aside with a flourish and Sanji appeared. His lips moved in sync with the music and he pointed his finger at you as he sang "All I want for christmas iiiiiis - youuuuuu", moving his hips to the rhythm. You giggled and so did he, this little playful banter really lightened the mood. When you regained your composure, you gave him your honest opinion about the suit and the other two he tried on. He then chose the first one, which had been both your and his favorite from the start.

Sanji put on his own clothes again. He put away the things he didn't want to take with him and the two of them went to the cashier with the suit he wanted to buy. The cashier looked like a bodybuilder and went to work. When he told Sanji the price, his jaw dropped. He had completely forgotten to look at the price... He regained his composure and looked at the man angrily. He had been shopping with Nami often enough to know all her tricks, so he tried his best.

"There's no way that suit is worth that much money. Look at the quality. Did you see the stitching on the seams? I want at least 70% off!" said Sanji loudly and overdramatically.

The cashier looked unimpressed. "You don't have to buy it, sir."

Sanji's expression changed from anger to surprise and he had to think of another way to get a discount quickly. He swallowed. There was one last thing he could try... .... He swallowed his pride and decided to try one last time because he really wanted this suit and most of all he wanted to impress you.

"You know, I want it. It just fits this masterpiece of a body perfectly. You'd be impressed." He said in a deep, flirtatious voice, his eyes half-lidded with a fiery gaze.

You coughed to keep from choking on his performance. You could tell how uncomfortable he was by the way he pressed his foot to the ground. The muscles in his thigh were tense and showing through his pants. But you had to admit, he was pretty damn tempting right now, so you distracted yourself with the socks and belts that were on a rack near the cash register.

"Oh, do you think your special someone over there would be okay with that? Because I'd like to see your body underneath me, blondie." The cashier purred and leaned over the counter to get closer to Sanji.

"Oh, don't worry about them, they are not what I want. But you, my dear, are an amuse-gueule I’d like to taste." Sanji leaned over and whispered the last words into the cashier's ear.

You had to avert your eyes because the way the two men looked at each other was steaming hot and had you blushing. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw that Sanji had paid and gotten a big discount as well as the receipt with the cashier's number on it. You were about to go over to him and leave the store when the cashier pulled him back by his tie and gave him a passionate kiss across the counter. Sanji didn't even have time to react as he let go of him and blew him another kiss as we hurried out of the store.

"Sanji, oh my..."

"Don't. I'm not going to talk about it. I have to rinse my mouth out with mouthwash or even sanitizer first..." said Sanji. His face was full of disgust, but the blush on it was sweet. You giggled and took him to the nearest drugstore. At least he got a 40% discount on the suit.

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