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l0vema · 9 months ago

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Satiable

Synopsis: you and hoshi were happy. Mostly. But why does it seem like hoshi doesn't crave for more like you?

A/n: it's kinda long srry >_<

Dating hoshi was fun. There was never a dull moment. He took you on dates and made you ugly laugh over dinner with his dumb jokes and embarrassing moments. You were happy.

That doesn't mean you were completely satisfied with the relationship. It'd been 4 months and you've emotionally broken down speaking about your past, you've cried with laughter and slept with utmost comfortability but still, not enough. You weren't a degenerate but sometimes hoshi made you feel like one. There were times you'd just look at him talking to woozi and imagine dragging him to a room. Watched him come to your house post practice all sweaty and hot and your mind flashed with the image of sucking him off, making him feel so good he passed out. The night before he went abroad he'd bring you his stuffed animals to keep you company and you just wanted him to sink into you and make him yours.

Maybe you were a degenerate.

But intimacy comes in many forms and sex is the only one you hadn't explored with hoshi. You were at your breaking point tonight. Literally trembling at the sight of him. You might as well blurt it out " I want you to fuck me." But he'd think you were joking or something or maybe he won't be into it. What other reason has he not brought it up for 4 MONTHS. He's already said he loved you (even though you didn't respond despite feeling the bloom in your chest when you thought of him. It's scary to confess your heart to someone considering your past) Maybe your silence as he said "you don't have to reply I just...need you to know" was why he never initiated anything past a little makeout session.

Right now you look up at him as he talks to vernon about something (you do not care about what they're saying) He just looks so good with his black hair, his undercut really suits him. You just want to sink your nails in as he makes you see-

You sigh and rub your temple. You need to get yourself together, especially in public. You thank God for your darker complexion. You'd be shockingly red if not.

Stuck in your mental struggle you don't notice seungkwan sit next to you until he whispers "what's up with you? Hoshi not treating you right?" Now was not the time to make this joke, you thought.

To try and get in on it you smile a little "you'd be surprised". To which he laughs and shoves you a little. It has always been easy to get along with hoshi's friends, especially seugnkwan. If only they could tell the man to keep his girl sated. That sounds like something scoups could do but alas, here you are.

There is conversation around you but you don't really engage. Too busy staring hoshi down. He looks good, as always. Dressed in a white striped button down (a/n: that one live, yall know what I'm talking abt). You just want to tear it off him.

You'd seen his body when you cuddle on hot nights but don't want to let go of each other. You'd made your thoughts on it known with a blunt "your built. It's hot"

You'd learnt to be blunt with hoshi, otherwise he'd never connect the dots on how you really felt.

Even being blunt didn't work the way you wished it to.

"Hey, seungkwan said you aren't feeling yourself. What's wrong?" Hoshi's smooth voice intercepted your thoughts. Looking at the evident concern in his eyes made your heart grow. If only you could gather the courage "I love you and I want you to fuck me." All these thoughts would disappear, you'd get some clarity on whether he was taking it slow or if he didn't want you in that way.

"You....huh?" Was what made your heart stop and drop to the depths of the earth. Hoshi's eyes were wide, eyebrows raised. "Nothing. Huh? I think scoups is calling you babe. You should go." You hadn't realised you said your thoughts out loud. "Babe..." his soft tone made everything worse. You groaned and stuff your face in your hands. Kill me now was the only thought left in your stupid head.

"I'm sorry forget what I said this is not how I wanted to say I love you I'm sorry I just ughhh-" you mumbled through your fingers.

"Let's go home babe." Was all he said before interlocking your fingers and walking towards his car. Your heart had never been beating so hard, even when you first confessed to him. This must be a medical issue. The air was getting thinner too. This was why you never admitted your feelings. The relationship was good, you were happy. "Relax, breathe. What's wrong?" He held onto your shoulders. You didn't realise you were hyperventilating. After a few minutes in silence and with normal breathing you managed to look up at him and his beautiful eyes and face "I'm sorry for what I said. It wasn't appropriate. I get we're taking everything slow and all."

Silence.

You look down afraid of whatever he'll say that will rip your heart out. "Don't be sorry. I'd been waiting for you to come around I didn't want you to feel pressured. I told you this much when I said it first."

Of course he only heard the I love you. I mean that's what you wanted...you do love him.

"...and I was waiting for you to come to me in your own timing, it's not right to push someone to have sex, especially when you love them". His words made you pause. He wasn't disgusted by your physical appearance. He was taking his time cause he thought you wanted that. He does love you. (A/n: having sex has NOTHING to do with someone's love for you. Don't get it twisted, sometimes people just don't want to have sex)

You wrap your arms around his neck "I was so scared we were about to break up or something" you muffled out.

"I love you"

"I love you too"

Sweet whispered confessions that Aphrodite would envy.

Once you guys let go of one another hoshi began driving. It was a comfortable silence. You got home and he held the door for you. You changed into your designated big t shirt for whenever you stayed at his house. Got into the bed and stared at him. He was bare chested. God did you feel disgusting. You sigh and get under the covers.

"Babe..." he whispered and you just knew to turn towards him. "I love you so fucking much" you whisper before kissing him. It was as usual- he was rubbing up and down your hip, pushing you towards him, tongue prodding your lips. The prelude to what gets you lightheaded. "I love you..." he softly said as he trailed down your neck "babe..." you responded.

"I love you..." as he kissed down your shirt neck hole. "Babe..." you choke out before he puts one of your clothed nipples in his mouth. You began to breathe heavy, head clouded with the pleasure. This is the most he's ever done with you before.

"I did in fact hear you."

You barely processed what he said, too caught up in the bliss. His ministrations had you losing your breath. "I- i- pls-" was the only words that jumbled out. Hoshi continued to go down, slowly pushing your shirt up only to go on abusing your nipples, showing both equal love and affection. There were butterflies in your whole being. His open mouthed kisses led down your navel, his breath on your skin was hot and heightened the sensations.

"Can imwhhaaa-" took you out of the trance. "Huh babe?" You questioned, the fear of rejection thrumming back to life.

He detaches his mouth from you to kiss you once more before, "can I go down on you? I've dreamt of it for so long". Your heart fluttered at his words before nodding aggressively. Immediately he pulled your legs up and placed hot kisses on your calves, put hickeys on your thighs, before lowering himself to place an open mouth kiss onto your clit. The sudden stimulation took your breath away as your back arched off the bed. Hoshi scoffed out a laugh before licking from your hole to your clit- the whole act dizzying.

Then you feel his finger massaging your entrance. You moan into the pillow by your side. The whole thing was too much. As he sinks his finger into you, there are tears forming from how good you feel. It's been almost a year since you last touched yourself and the pent up tension has your stomach coiling up quicker than anticipated.

"Babe-" you can barely get it out before his finger brushes on the softest part of your insides. His mouth is still working hard licking and sucking till spit and arousal is dripping from his chin. It all feels too much. You're getting lightheaded. Your stomach is fluttering. Your breath is held. Muscles begin to tense up and your legs are trembling around his head. You grab onto his hair to ensure he does not stop. Not when you're in heaven. He moans into you making you moan a little louder. The sinking of your hands into his hair , the trembling legs the nasty dirty wetness you feel. It's all you had wanted. "Yes yes yes yes fuck yessss babe" was all that managed to escape your throat as your high steadily went down.

Once Hoshi got up his glistening lower face damn near brought you to orgasm all over again. He had this dark glint in his eye as he leaned over, finger still pumping you slowly, and kissed you. Mess and all. "You'll have a hard time stopping me from doing that all the time. Taste yourself on me. Fucking delicious."

You whined as his fingers started to speed up. "Babe fuck me already" was all you got out before he had you flipped- face pushed down ass up.

"You look better than I imagined, if only I knew how you'd wanted me. All that wasted time could've been put to good use" he groaned out as he rub himself on your folds, still slick with multiple different liquids. He pushed into you slowly before filling you up so good. You moan into the mattress falling deeper into the abyss that is loving hoshi.

He begins slow, watching you're every reaction to figure out what to keep doing before settling on it. You like fast and deep. He begins the rhythm that almost instantly has you clenching unbelievably tight around him. This goes on till your thighs are trembling once more. Your knees nearly give in. Hoshi grabs your elbows and pulls you flush against him as his dancer hips don't falter even once on the set rhythm. His deep moans in your hair have your eyes rolling back. Your second orgasm is closing in and you just stay there ready to be washed out into the sea of all things beautiful. The coil snaps and you feel a gush, you take a sharp breath and fall. Your head lands in a pillow while hoshi slows down but still goes deep. He is about to cum and grabs your ass to ground himself. "Inside me" you manage out weakly. There is no way you're ending the night with no creampie. He doesn't ask twice before unloading in you. The warmth has your eyes fluttering.

"I am so in love with you it's disgusting" you say out loud after a few moments to catch your breath. "Well I love you too" hoshi responds before kissing your temple. The silence is calm. You fall into contentment as his arms wrap you in his scent and warmth. You're in way too deep now, is what passes through your mind. Hoshi's eyes were shut as he pictured proposing to you, A tiger suit would be in order.

You both dozed off. Sated by love and sex.

L0ve, M.A

#hoshi #svt #seventeen smut #hoshi smut #svt fluff #svt reactions #svt scenarios #svt oneshot #seventeen x reader #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung x reader #seventeen soonyoung #hoshi x reader #hoshi x you #hoshi x y/n

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nanasrealities · 2 months ago

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⚡️ : "talking 'bout you, talking 'bout us."

From your lovely ask list! I love the fun gossip 👀

𝓢HIFTING ⟢ ASK GAME 𖦹

my beautiful, lovely, amazing mutual !! thank you for the ask ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

⚡️ :: rumors — what are some rumors going around about you? any recent scandals about dating someone? how do celebrity news outlets react to the rumors? how about fans?

CIRCULATING — since dream academy will only just end once I shift there , a perfect world would mean no rumors going around just yet. But alas, most of our fans so far are kpop fans—the messy kind, of course—therefore it's only natural for them to find a problem with something about the final line up, even before we were chosen.

001. " My Brutally Honest Opinion on Each Dream Academy Contestant So Far..." ▹ YouTube 126.9k views

This video was messy, to say the least. To summarize: the creator went on a 30 minute rant about each contestant on the show, giving their very honest opinion about us based on our first appearances. It was posted a couple hours after the first episode aired and to say they were quick with it would be an understatement. I find myself on Twitter during one of my breaks from training and I see me—quite literally—at the center of a discussion between viewers of DA: "Did Yuuna really deserve her spot on Dream Academy?" ... According to the post, "Yuuna doesn't have enough experience in the [music] industry to participate in a show, a survival show out of everything too ... She should just stay an actress or a model or whatever instead of "joining" Dream Academy because it'll just be embarrassing when the judges stop accepting her briberies and she's one of the first-" The thread was lengthy but why I destroy my peace for people—twitter fans especially? I couldn't bring myself to care enough anyways.

002. "Aespa's Giselle and Dream Academy's Contestant Yuuna Komatsu Share Posts on Instagram, Sparking Rumors Between Netizens: "This Can Only Mean One Thing In Korea.." " ▹ Soompi.com (092623)

side note: in this reality, AESPA debuted in 2022 I wanted their concept instead of 2020.

This rumor was honestly so fun to watch . It all started when Giselle shared a photo on her Instagram wearing a white lace tank top (like the one in the photo) and a backwards cap. It was already hinted that Giselle and I had been friends since their debut era, so I didn't think much when I posted a selfie of myself wearing the same clothing pieces. Oh, how I was so wrong.. According to Soompi and Netizens , "Giselle had been in 'girlfriend' mode since Yuuna was revealed to be a contestant on Dream Academy, even going as far as commenting on posts she would personally share on the survival shows account." Honestly, we both thought it was stupid, since we were just really close friends. Then again, that photo definitely lead to a chain of events : random photos with the other's shadow peeking in the background , subtle mentions of each other during work hours, and ...questionable moments between the two of us were discovered and theories were spreading quickly. I'm pretty sure Netizens are currently sitting here practicing their shocked reactions while waiting for Dispatch to finally confirm the rumors TT.

OTHER NOTABLE RUMORS ::

003. "Is DA's Yuuna Connected to Japan's Royal Family?"

004. "Yuuna is a Robot — 10 Different Careers Before The Age of 20?!"

005. "10 Minutes of Manon's Beef with Yuuna During Dream Academy"

⤳ mind you, this started after Popstar Academy was released, not a reliable source.

#—♫ nana's katseye dr ₊˚#┆ ⤿ ding ding message recieved 💌 ⌗#shifting consciousness #shifting reality #reality shifting #shifting community #shifting methods #shifting blog #shifting ask game #shifting diary #shifting motivation #shifting antis dni

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by-gray · 6 months ago

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Okay, so my convo at Megacon with Gareth, Naoko and Kai so I can never forget it.

Okay so first of all, they all decided to troll the panel runner by coming on in the wrong order to how he announced them. Gareth seemed to be the lead-troller. The guy went “give a round of applause for Kai Owen!” And Gareth came leisurely walking on, hands in pockets. So the other two followed suit. When Naoko flopped down, she sorted out her bag and there was a muffin in it, so she asked us “does anyone want a muffin?” and she literally yeeted it (badly yeeted it) to this guy to have.

The cast’s whole dynamic seems to be “let’s bully Naoko for being lovably silly.” She’s chatty too. Like all I could think about is how she’s the complete opposite to Tosh whereas Kai is more Rhys than Rhys and Gareth is an even funnier Ianto (also, somehow, even more fucking gorgeous in real life his whole face seems to GLOW).

When it came to my convo, I asked “is it okay if I ask two questions?” because there was loads of people behind me queuing. Kai went “NO!” Naoko laughed. Gareth said: “Only if both questions are directed to Naoko.” This was a running joke since the beginning of the con because Naoko for some reason couldn’t understand any questions that day. Her excuse throughout the con was “English is my second language” – btw at some point, Gareth said “you have a lot to say for your second language.” He was hilariously savage.

Anyways, my two questions were: “what is your favourite Big Finsih audios you’ve done? And, if you could have one Doctor Who monster that could’ve been in Torchwood, which one would you pick?” Naoko didn’t quite get the questions (again). Kai went “bloody hell she only asked it two seconds ago!” Everyone laughed. Gareth tried to explain it to her, but he got it the other way around himself and said “which Torchwood alien would you like to be in Doctor who?” I explained the question again and Gareth went “oh sorry I got it the wrong way around”.

Naoko answered that she liked the Dinner and a Show audio and she loved the adipose because she thinks they’re really cute. Kai’s first audio mention I can’t remember… in the moment, you sort of find it hard to take in everything they say because you’re so overwhelmed and excited. It’s killing me, but he said he loved Rhys and Ianto’s Excellent Barbecue as well. He agreed that he liked the adipose but also the daleks and the weeping angels. Gareth’s fave audios I can’t remember either, but my friend thinks he said Fall to Earth because he mentioned a ship falling out of the sky. He also spoke about earlier, in answer to another person’s question, how cool Absent Friends was with DT (alas, as we know, never to be released). He immediately agreed with Kai about weeping angels. He said that he’s kinda been with the daleks in Doctor Who, but the Master would’ve also been amazing. I immediately jumped in and asked my third question: “which one?” He said John Simm. I nodded in agreement because all Masters/Missy are incredible choices.

During Kai’s talk he looked straight at me, smiling so wide, teeth showing, and lovely. And when they all thanked me for the questions, he said: “you look great by the way.” I was in a gender-bend Jack costume.

Along with Gareth shaking everyone’s hands during the Photo op, asking our names and then saying “nice to meet you [insert name]” with the sweetest smile… highlight of my day.

#gareth david lloyd #naoko mori #kai owen #ianto jones #toshiko sato #rhys williams #torchwood #megacon #megacon london

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sat0b3rry · 6 months ago

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SPINNING INTO LOVE ꧂

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

➵ synopsis: just months before the grand prix final your dearest partner, nanami kento, somehow someway injures his leg, leaving you stranded and partnerless. of course, with the help of your coach, you’re inevitably assigned a new partner but alas, it just so happens to be the rising star of the singles division; the cocky and rather flirtatious satoru gojo.

➵ pairing: figure skating au; singles skater!gojo x pairs skater!reader (f)

➵ warnings/tags: fem!reader, fluff, angst (if you squint?), a little bit of crack

➵ word count: 7.1k

a/n: this lowkey took so long for me to start even though i had the idea in my head forever (i just couldn’t figure out how to start it LOL) also, uh, i’m not a figure skater so pls don’t take this super seriously

⌦ m.list

Mondays were always the most dreaded day of the week. Something always went wrong whether it be stumbling out of bed late to a blaring alarm, spilling coffee across the cold kitchen tiles, or even packing the wrong socks to practice. Yet nothing ever prepared you for the news that slapped you across the face the moment you strode into the ice rink. After all, something was bound to happen with the way everything was going so perfectly that morning.

Initially, you thought nothing of it. First you woke up on time, actually, a few minutes before your alarm. Then your coffee brewed itself almost impeccably, the sweetness and bitterness the perfect amount. And finally, you hadn’t forgotten a single thing in your apartment (which you usually did, it was quite a common occurrence actually). Hell, you even managed to snag a parking spot right in front of the entrance, cutting your walk to the rink down by a few minutes.

And that’s when it finally hit you.

Something was going to happen.

“You what?!”

“Broke my leg.”

Nanami Kento, your beloved partner of many years, leans against a pair of crutches, his muscular leg wrapped up in an obnoxiously bright orange cast with “Itadori Yuji!!!” written across it. “How… Literally how?” You breathe out, pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance. Just as the blonde parts his lips to speak, your coach, Masamichi Yaga, strides out of his office with his lucky pen tucked behind his ear and a clipboard firmly in hand. “So, what now?” you murmur, crossing your arms over your chest as you await his answer. “I’m assuming we’re pulling out of the Grand Prix Final?”

“No,” Yaga replies firmly, his gaze shifting between you and Nanami. “We’re three, three months away from competing.”

You blink, surprise flashing across your face. “With all due respect Coach, I’d love to compete––really I would––but I don’t have a partner and I’m not exactly fit to skate any of my––our––programs in singles.”

“You won’t be skating in singles,” The older male reassures, his calm tone cutting through your doubts. A look of confusion flickers between you and Nanami. “I’ve pulled a few strings and assigned you a new partner. We can start blocking the program out today and––” Yaga’s voice fades into the background as a blur of white streaks by. Before you can fully process what’s even happening, the Satoru Gojo himself––rising star in the men’s singles division, two-time World Champion, and going for his second Grand Prix Final win––stands before you, grinning like he had just won Olympic gold.

Heat floods your cheeks as he towers over you, his tall frame casually leaning against the rink walls. His blue eyes glimmer with unmistakable mischief. “Nanami was right––you are cute.” He practically purrs, his smirk deepening with every word.

“I did not say such things,” Your partner quickly corrects, a resigned sigh leaving his lips. “I suggested Suguru, but apparently, Yaga had other plans…” Nanami then turns to you, his expression tinged with regret. “I’m sorry,” he mouths silently. You offer him a small smile, your hand reaching out to gently squeeze his arm in reassurance. “It’s okay,” you whisper, your voice soft before you reluctantly step away.

Turning toward Satoru and Yaga, who are already deep in discussion, you approach cautiously. “You have three months to perfect this program,” Yaga begins, his tone firm. “But don’t get cocky. It’s hard––challenging––and let's not forget, it’s been years since you’ve set foot in pairs.” His grumbling words hang heavy in the air as his sharp gaze cuts through Satoru. “I know, I know,” your new partner drawls out, his tone dripping with nonchalance. He shoots you a cocky grin, his blue eyes sparkling with confidence as he glances your way. “You underestimate me, Coach. I’ve got this.”

You watch as Satoru commands the ice with effortless jumps, spins, and twirls exuding an air of confidence that seems to belong to him and him alone. As you lace up your skates, the sharp tap of crutches against the floor pulls your attention. “Hey,” Nanami greets as he hobbles over, stubbornly ignoring the wheelchair Shoko insisted he use. “How are you feeling?”

A heavy sigh escapes you as you focus on your laces, tightening them with a little too much force. “Not good,” you admit quietly. “We had a real shot at gold. Now? I don’t even know.” You pause, your frustration spilling out into your words. “Yeah, he’s good––amazing even––but that’s in singles. Pairs isn’t singles, and besides…” You hesitate, your voice softening. “He’s not you, Ken. It’s not the same.”

A low chuckle escapes Nanami’s lips as he carefully lowers himself onto the bench beside you, his gaze softening. “Yeah, he’s not me,” he hums, a warm, knowing smile spreading across his face. “But you still have a real shot at gold. Sure, I might’ve suggested Suguru because I think his technique is better, but Satoru’s good too. He’ll do whatever it takes to get you that gold. I mean it. If I can’t do it this season, he will.”

You shake your head, laughing softly. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever you think.” Turning toward him, you decide to change the subject. “So, what are you gonna do with all this free time now?” You tease, playfully nudging Nanami’s shoulder as you raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Help our junior’s on their senior division programs,” he replies, gaze flickering over to the smaller rink where Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi are in the middle of a lively argument, each trying to claim the rink to run their routine. “Someone’s got to keep those kids in line.”

Eventually, Nanami is dragged away by an eager Yuji, who’s basically bouncing off the walls to show him his program. “You ready to blow these judges away, cutie?” Satoru calls out, his voice deep and confident, echoing through the facility as he effortlessly glides towards you.

You step onto the ice, biting back the urge to roll your eyes. Suguru, content with his role as an observer for your first practice with your new partner, hovers near the speakers, watching intently. “I’ll teach you the baseline choreography first, then we can block it out if needed, and after that, we’ll work on lifts,” you suggest, sliding past Satoru with ease as you glide towards the center of the ice. The rhythm of your skates is steady, the cold air sharp around you as you prepare to dive into the work ahead.

“Sure thing, sweets,” Satoru replies as he immediately follows after you, practically bounding across the ice like an eager pup. “I’ve been told I’m a very quick learner.” He positions himself at your right, claiming the space with a wide grin as he awaits your instruction. With a nod to Suguru, the familiar notes of the classical piece you and Nanami had chosen months ago for your program began to fill the air. The music swirls around you, setting the tone as you move slowly across the ice.

You watch closely as Satoru mirrors your movements, every step and turn precise, even down to the tiniest of details. He’s hot (though you’d never admit it aloud), successful with a handful of titles under his belt, and quick to learn.

What more could you want in a partner?

You couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement by the awareness that this dynamic could just work. Things were going smoothly, the rhythm of the routine flowing effortlessly, until you both approached the first lift. Humming softly, Satoru reaches out, circling around you with practiced ease, his large hands settling a little above your waist. With a soft grunt, he hoists you into the air, poised to toss you into a smooth rotation. But then, without warning, your skate snags the fabric of his clothing while his own blade stutters across the ice.

The next thing you know, you’re both crumpling to the cold in a tangled heap of limbs. With a shake of your head, you push yourself back onto your feet, ignoring the dull ache that lingers in your body. You reach out, grabbing Satoru’s hands to help him up, your grip steady as you pull him back into the rhythm. “It’s okay,” you say softly, your chest heaving from the impact. “Let’s just try the other ones.” You offer him a reassuring smile, determined to keep things moving forward despite the brief stumble.

But time and time again, you and Satoru find yourselves sprawled out across the ice, each fall more bruising than the last. The impact was relentless, and soon, patches of purple began to bloom across your flesh, a visible reminder of the constant missteps. “What are we doing wrong…” you grumble, hands planted firmly atop your hips as glide slowly across the ice, catching your breath and trying to sort out your bearings.

You glance over at Satoru, hoping for some kind of breakthrough, that he’d have the answers to your problems, but all you see is the same frustration mirrored on his face. Suguru glides over with ease, his calm presence a contrast to the frustration in the air. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” he says, a warm smile on his lips as he motions for you and Satoru to resume your practice. “It’s your first time working together, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” Satoru puffs out, still hunched over his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “We’ll get the rhythm down.” With a determined nod, he straightens up, the lingering frustration in his posture now replaced by a spark of resolve. He glides over to you, grinning from ear to ear as his confidence already starts to return. “Try not to worry that little head of yours, sweets. I’ll get you that gold, I mean it.” He winks, then reaches out to gently tap the tip of your nose with the pad of his index finger.

The simple gesture sends a jolt through you, your eyes widening in surprise as your heart picks up its pace, slamming against your chest. “Sure…” you grumble, quickly turning away to hide the flush that’s now coloring your cheeks, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your pulse races.

For days on end, you and Satoru tirelessly practice every lift, but each attempt ends the same way: with the two of you crumpled into a heap of limbs on the cold ice. The bruises are starting to accumulate and the Grand Prix Final looms closer with each passing day. Determination fuels your efforts, each fall met with gritted teeth and the resolve to try again. But eventually, the cracks begin to show, frustration seeping through as exhaustion and pressure bubble over.

“You’re doing it wrong!” you angrily exclaim, tugging at your hair in frustration. “You’re not supposed to throw me like some fucking ragdoll!” Your hands wave around wildly, mimicking the rough way he tosses you up into the air. “Well, how else am I supposed to do it then, huh?!” Satoru snaps back, his patience thinning as the heat of the moment takes over. “I don’t know! Figure it out!” You shoot back, already turning away to resume your previous position. “How the hell am I supposed to know the answer when you don’t?!” he protests, his hands running through his white locks in pure annoyance.

The tension between you both is thick, each of you feeling the pressure to make it work, but neither sure how to make it happen.

After a sharp scolding from Yaga, you and Satoru silently retreat to opposite ends of the rink, each taking a moment to cool off. “We can’t even get a single lift down,” you mumble, your anger clear as you glide over to the rink walls. Grabbing your water bottle from Nanami, you take a quick sip, trying to cease the heat of irritation bubbling under your skin.

Ever the steady presence, Nanami watches you with a calm expression. “You know, it’s not about getting it perfect on the first try,” he offers, his tone gentle yet firm. “It’s about building the trust to make it work.” You bite back the urge to roll your eyes, the frustration rising to the surface. “How are we gonna make it work when we can’t even build trust?” you snap, a sharp edge to your voice as you scoff and fold your arms tightly across your chest. “He says everything I’m doing is wrong when it’s literally him! He shouldn’t even be competing in pairs, Ken. I mean, no wonder he switched to singles! He’s just horrible, horrible. His technique? Lackluster. His partner work? Horrendous.”

“Relax,” Nanami retorts, his tone calm but firm, his steady gaze cutting through your irritation. “You’re letting your emotions take over––don’t. You have two months left. Go out there, perfect those lifts, and get that gold you’ve been working for.” He pauses, letting his words sink in before continuing, “I told you Satoru would get you that gold, and he’s going to. You just have to trust him.”

Letting out a sigh, you nod, your shoulders slumping as the fight drains from you. His words hit their mark, a stark reminder of the bigger picture––the goal that’s driven you this far. As much as you want to argue, there’s no denying the truth behind Nanami’s reasoning. Trust is the missing piece, and without it, everything else crumbles. You glance behind you, catching sight of Satoru as he meticulously runs through each step of the routine from beginning to end. His usual cocky demeanor is absent, replaced by a rare focus that makes you pause.

Taking a deep breath, you let the tension in your shoulders ease away. “Alright,” you murmur, more to yourself than anyone else. “Let’s try again.”

You hesitantly make your way over to Satoru, your skates cutting softly across the ice. The moment he notices you, he pauses mid-movement. His usual confidence seems to falter, and for a moment, he stares at you like a wide-eyed deer caught in headlights. He shifts awkwardly, clearly searching for the right words. Finally, Satoru exhales and says, “Listen, I’m sorry.” His voice is quieter than usual, laced with an earnestness that catches you off guard. “I’m not used to all this partner work,” he continues, glancing away briefly as though embarrassed to admit it. “And… I’ve been blaming my faults on you when it’s… it’s not even your fault. That’s on me.”

His sincerity hangs in the air, surprising you. This wasn’t the Satoru Gojo you were used to—the cocky, larger-than-life figure. This was someone trying to own up to his mistakes, and it stirs something unexpected within you. You shake your head, offering him a small but genuine smile. “I’m at fault too, you know,” you reply, your tone softening. “We’re partners. Not everything’s just on you.”

The weight of the tension begins to lift, and for the first time in days, weeks even, you feel the spark of something resembling teamwork. The air between you lightens, and in that moment, you both realize that trust isn’t something to be built alone—it’s a joint effort.

Taking Satoru’s hands, you both position yourselves at the center of the rink, ready to give the program another go. The familiar notes of music begin to fill the air, echoing through the rink and setting the rhythm into motion. This time as you glide across the ice together, the movements feel different––more fluid, more in sync. The tension, now replaced by a quiet yet determined focus, fuels every step and every turn. Each movement flows just a little more smoothly than before, guiding you both through the routine with a newfound confidence.

Approaching the first lift, Satoru moves into position, circling you like usual. His hands settle firmly upon your waist, and as he hoists you up, his blue eyes meet yours. A silent conversation passes between you––an unspoken understanding that feels almost like a promise. With a fluid motion, he tosses you out, and the world blurs around you as you spin in the air.

You spin and spin before landing on your blade, causing a look of surprise to spread across your features. The music swells, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s falling into place. Then, you land—perfectly, your blade digging into the ice with a solid, controlled grace. You catch yourself before the motion can spiral, and a look of surprise flashes across your features. It’s not just the success of the lift, but the realization that, for the first time, it actually felt right.

Satoru’s laughter rings out, bright and carefree, and you can’t help but join in. It’s a sound that fills the air, raising your spirits as you both move seamlessly through the routine. Each lift, each spin, is executed with newfound precision, the synchronization between you both growing stronger with every passing moment. It feels like everything is coming together—like you’re finally in the flow.

As you approach the final lift, there’s a moment of hope, a glimmer that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

But as it’s executed, everything unravels.

The familiar crash of limbs on ice rings out again. Once more, you both land in a tangled heap, the last lift slipping through your fingers like it always does.

To your surprise, you find yourself sprawled across Satoru’s chest, the coolness of the ice replaced by the warmth of his body beneath you. His large frame shields yours, and his hand instinctively curls around the back of your head, a gesture so surprisingly tender that it momentarily stills the frustration welling up inside you.

For a brief moment, the world feels still, the chaos of the fall fading into the background as you meet his gaze. There’s a quiet, unspoken understanding between you both—this wasn’t the outcome either of you wanted, but at least you managed to land the previous lifts. The sense of progress, even with the setback, lingers in the air.

Satoru’s hand gently strokes your head, and a small, rueful smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Guess we’re getting better at this, huh, sweets,” he murmurs, his voice low but warm, a hint of amusement hiding beneath the words. You return his smile, your own laughter filling the air as you lean forward, pressing your forehead gently to his chest. The warmth of his presence unexpectedly calms you, grounding you in the moment. “Yeah, yeah we are,” you reply, your voice lighter, the frustration having faded into a quiet sense of relief that neither of you, especially your new partner, hadn’t been injured.

Soon enough, days began to morph into weeks, and before you knew it, the clock had ticked down to the final month before the Grand Prix Final.

You and Satoru had made significant progress with the routine. Each step sequence, turn, and every lift had been perfected––all but the final one. “Maybe we should just take it out,” you propose, your hands deftly lacing up your skates with practiced ease. Your gaze flickers upward to Satoru, who stands before you, his posture relaxed but his expression unreadable. The two of you are the only souls in the rink, the quiet stillness of the early morning wrapping around you both like a comforting blanket.

Satoru runs a hand through his white locks––a tell-tale sign of his frustration, one you had quickly picked up on in the short time you’d spent with him. “We’re a month away from the finals,” he begins, his tone laced with a mix of determination and exasperation. “If we wanted to take it out, we should’ve done it two months ago.” Your lips press into a tight line. Satoru was right––if you wanted to take the lift out, it was far too late. Removing it now would mean scrambling to improvise, and that wasn’t a risk either of you could afford to take.

“Well,” you say, rising to your feet with a determined glint in your eye. “Guess we’ll just have to keep trying, huh?” Your words earn a bright grin from Satoru, his usual confidence shining through as he immediately joins you on the ice, ready to tackle the routine with a renewed determination. You and Satoru practiced the lift over and over again, only to end up with one or both of you toppling to the ice each time. “Fuck,” your partner groans, his frustration evident as the two of you skid across the rink, tangled together after yet another fall. As usual, Satoru shields your body with his own, absorbing the brunt of the impact. The action causes your heart to flutter in your chest.

Ever since month two, Satoru has become unusually sweet with you. Sure, he always treated you kindly, but on top of the endearing pet names, he’d bring you small pastries from the nearby bakery during breaks, help you warm up before your shared practice sessions, and would even walk you to your car if practice ran late. “You okay?” Satoru questions, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts as he gazes down at you with concern. You raise your head, blinking as you process his words. Parting your lips, you prepare to speak when, unexpectedly, his hand reaches out, gently brushing away a stray lock of hair that clings to your skin. “Yeah…” you breathily reply, offering the male a warm, reassuring smile. “I’m okay.”

The two of you remain seated atop the ice, entangled in one another’s embrace while listening to the gentle whir of the facility’s air conditioning and the soft rhythm of each other’s breathing. Your head lays atop Satoru’s broad shoulder, basking in the warmth that radiates from his body as your gaze fixes onto the nearby windows, the morning sun pouring in.

Satoru’s hand absentmindedly caresses your hair, his gaze momentarily lingering on your features. “We should… probably try that left again.” He murmurs, hand sliding down to trace the line of your jaw. You raise your head from his shoulder, turning to face him, completely aware of the little distance between you both. “Yeah… we should.” You reply, watching as his blue eyes flicker from your eyes and down to your lips.

The air between you thickens, charged with something more––something unspoken, but undeniable.

You can feel the beat of your heart quicken, the atmosphere shifting as the distance between you both seems to shrink with each passing second. Satoru’s gaze lingers on your lips, his expression soft yet intense, as though searching for a sign, a cue, a signal.

Just as your lips brush against his, the doors to the rink suddenly swing open with a loud creak and in strides the rest of your company’s skaters, their voices cutting through the air. The moment is shattered in an instant. Both of you scramble apart, hurriedly placing space between each other, cheeks now flushed with sudden embarrassment.

The atmosphere, once thick with unspoken tension, is now replaced by the bustle of the others––Nanami still in his crutches, Suguru, and the juniors––entering. You quickly look away, trying to regain some composure, while Satoru casually leans against the rink walls, his face clearly flushed. “Looks like practice is starting again,” he says with a slight, awkward chuckle, running a hand through his soft white tufts.

You nod quickly, a nervous laugh escaping your lips as you adjust your posture, still trying to shake off the lingering warmth from the rather heated moment. “Yeah, looks like it.” You reply, your voice quieter than usual, betraying the unease swirling inside you. Satoru, still leaning against the wall, catches your eye again, his earlier awkwardness now replaced by a mischievous smile, though there’s a softness to his expression. “Don’t worry, we can continue what we started later,” he teases, though the flicker of something unspoken still lingers.

Just as you whip your head around to shoot back a snarky remark, Nanami calls your name, snagging your attention. You turn quickly, gratefully for the distance, and catch the blonde’s blue eyes as he waves you over. His expression is neutral as always, but you can sense a hint of curiosity in his gaze. “Suguru was about to start drills,” he says, his tone carrying the same authoritative edge he always uses when it’s time to focus. “You two joining? I know you’ve been practicing all morning.”

You nod with a smile. “I could use a break,” you say, giving Nanami a playful nudge on the shoulder as you step off the main rink, heading toward the smaller one together. Your Coach and former partner watch the blur of skaters glide by with sharp, analytical eyes, offering critiques on each one’s technique as if there were no tomorrow. “Put more height into that Satoru!” Yaga snaps, his pen tapping furiously against the rink walls. “I’ve seen a cat jump higher than you, boy.”

Meanwhile, off to the side, you, Nobara, and Yuji, are fully immersed in perfecting your spins, blissfully ignoring Nanami’s calls to focus on your jumps. Eventually, Yaga’s persistent calls of your name pull you away, the sound impossible to ignore as he beacons you back to the main rink. “Let’s run the program from the beginning. I want to see how things have been going,” he says, gesturing to Nanami, who’s already cueing up the music.

“Sure thing, boss.” Satoru cheerfully responds, motioning for you to join him as he glides toward the center of the ice. You follow suit, taking your starting positions. “This is going to suck…” you mutter, gaze fixed on the spot where the judges would typically be seated.

“Hey, hey, hey, none of that attitude on my ice, sweet cheeks.” Satoru teases, flashing you his signature grin. You playfully roll your eyes. “Sweet cheeks? That’s a new one.” But before he can reply, the familiar notes fill the air, and the two of you are swept into motion.

It was almost a flawless run.

Every step sequence, spin, twist, jump, and lift had been performed to perfection. Hell, you almost landed that final lift––the one that had been a thorn in your side for months––but unfortunately, you spun out, falling flat on your ass before recovering and striking your ending pose with as much grace as you could muster.

God the moment was messy––so messy––but it was progress. Progress that felt so damn good because, to date, that had been your most flawless run. The kind of run that made all those painful falls worth it, and gave you the kind of hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d actually win gold at the Grand Prix Final.

Satoru’s breathy laughter reaches your ears as he makes his way over to you, arms already winding around your frame and pulling you into a warm embrace. “You killed that, sweetheart,” he says, his voice low and filled with admiration, loud enough only for you to hear. “Thanks…” you reply, chest heaving with exertion. The adrenaline still lingers in your veins as you and Satoru stand there, frozen in place, both of you taking a moment to process the run.

Soon enough the lingering heat of the embrace fades, replaced by a quiet satisfaction. After a beat, you pull away, feeling a rush of energy as you bound towards the edge of the rink where Nanami patiently awaits, ready to analyze every inch of your performance. Nobara and Yuji crowd around your former partner, both of them eagerly chatting about your near flawless performance. Their voices overlap in excitement, pointing out the lifts, the spins, and every small detail that went right.

You can’t help but smile at their infectious enthusiasm, the energy in the air raising your spirits. “You were incredible out there,” Nanami says, his warm smile brightening as he pulls you into the warmest embrace he can manage, his crutches obnoxiously getting in the way. “Gold-worthy, if I do say so myself.”

You shake your head, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “I’ll take the compliments once we actually nail that last lift without either of us eating shit.” You retort, grinning from ear to ear. Your eyes drift to the juniors––Yuji, Nobara, and even the usually reserved Megumi––joining in on Satoru’s over-the-top on-ice celebration, happily swinging Suguru around in an impromptu victory dance.

“By the way,” you blurt out, turning to Nanami as a question pops into mind. “When are you supposed to get out of the cast?” He glances down at the neon orange wrapping, covered in everyone’s signatures, before meeting your gaze. “Tomorrow, actually,” he replies with a shrug. “But I’ll be in a boot for a little while after that.”

Pushing off the rink walls, you glide effortlessly across the ice, gearing up to return to practice. “Hey, at least you’ll be outta that thing sooner rather than later.” You flash Nanami a smile before skating off to the opposite end of the rink where Yaga currently waits, ready to give you and Satoru feedback from your earlier performance. “Beautiful run you two,” he starts, voice steady. “I thought it was fantastic. The emotion was there, the technique––everything––but that last piece that just seems to be holding you both back.”

You and Satoru exchange a glance, nodding in agreement before bouncing a few ideas off Yaga about how to properly execute the move. As you prepare to try again, you immediately shake your head. “Nope, nope, nope,” you chant, and Satoru lowers you back to the ice with a confused look. “What?” he asks, furrowing his brows. “You’re gripping my ribs, Satoru,” you reply, motioning to his hands that currently engulf your sides.

He slowly blinks, trying to process his mistake. “Am I… not supposed to hold you there?” You crane your gaze over your shoulder, staring at him like he had started spouting water from his head. “No…? You’re squeezing my ribs…”

The two of you stare at one another, sharing a silent moment of realization before trying again, this time with his hands resting on your waist.

To your surprise, it works. Aside from Satoru’s complaints of his wrists aching, you actually managed to land it. “Let’s try it again,” you command, turning back to face the male who’s already reaching for you, ready to go again.

This time, his hands slide down to your hips, an unexpected heat rushing to your cheeks. “Isn’t this… a little low?” you stammer, your breath casting as he pulls you into position.

“Hm? No, I think it’s better, easier grip.” Without missing a beat, Satoru hoists you up again with a grunt, releasing you with practiced precision. You land perfectly in your ending post, not a single inch of movement betraying your control. A soft breath escapes your lips, and for the first time in weeks, you feel a sense of victory.

The two of you take a brief moment to savor the realization that you had finally nailed the last lift––the one that had tested your patience for months. Satoru’s gaze meets yours, an unspoken understanding passing between you. Without warning, he’s charging toward you, sweeping you off your feeting and spinning you both effortlessly across the ice, the exhilaration of the moment propelling you in a whirlwind of triumph and joy.

As time flies by, the clock seems to race ahead, and before you know it, you and Satoru are a day away from competing at the Grand Prix Final.

You and Satoru had finally managed to land the final lift, but not enough times to trust its consistency. Deciding to take a break from the ice that evening, you and your partner head to the nearby café, settling into a cozy corner with steaming mugs of coffee in hand. The warmth of the drinks matches the ease between you, as you chat effortlessly about anything and everything, the weight of training and the pressure of competition momentarily forgotten.

That day you learned many things about Satoru.

Besides the fact he was a huge Digimon nerd and often spent hours upon hours scrolling through TikTok, you discovered a different, more intimate side to the male. You learned of his goal to win Olympic gold, his dream of eventually settling down and starting a family, and even his fear of not leaving a meaningful mark on the sport.

Satoru, too, took the time to learn about you in ways that went beyond surface-level details like your favorite color or passion for skating. He got to understand the real you––the person beneath the routines and the ice.

“Well, this is me,” you murmur, clutching your drink tightly as if it might steady the fluttering in your chest. Standing beside your car, you glance up at Satoru, his soft smile easing some of the tension in the air. With an easy motion, he reaches out to open the door for you. “Get home safe, sweets,” he says, his voice warm with a touch of affection that lingers in the quiet night. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nod, sliding into the driver’s seat with a soft smile. “See you tomorrow,” you echo, your voice carrying the same tender warmth he had shown you. As you settle in, your gaze lingers, catching the way Satoru hesitates for a moment, his eyes holding yours with quiet intensity as though he’s debating something unspoken. Then, with a subtle smile, he turns on his heel and heads toward his car parked a few rows away. His silhouette, bathed in the soft glow of the street lights, lingers in your mind, leaving your chest feeling unexpectedly light.

As the night drew to a close, you nestled beneath the blankets, a contented warmth wrapping around you. Your mind wandered through the memories of every practice with Satoru, each moment replaying like a cherished highlight reel, reminding you of the journey that had brought you to this point.

In what feels like the blink of an eye, you find yourself nervously standing at the edge of an unfamiliar rink in a bustling venue, anticipation coursing through your veins as you await your turn to perform your long-anticipated program. The air hums with energy, every seat filled with friends, family, and fans, all eager to cheer on their favorite skaters.

“Hey.” Satoru’s gentle voice cuts through the whirlwind of your thoughts, grounding you. His hands slide up your arms, rubbing them softly in a comforting rhythm meant to steady your nerves. “How are you feeling?” he asks, his tone warm and reassuring.

You release a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, your eyes flickering from the jumbotron displaying the current scores to the stands. There, Nanami, Suguru, Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi are all on their feet, cheering like madmen, their energy practically radiating across the arena. It’s contagious, and for a brief moment, it settles you. “Nervous. Scared, even,” you admit, your lips pressing into a tight line.

Satoru hums, his hands continuing their soothing motions as he follows your gaze. A grin slowly spreads across his lips as he pauses, waving at your friends and teammates in the stands. “Remember what I told you when we first started skating together, sweets?” he asks, tone light and teasing. You raise an eyebrow, half-smirking. “How I look like a duck in my sit spin?”

Satoru nearly chokes on his own spit, shaking his head in disbelief. “What? No!” he protests with a laugh. “I said I’d get you that gold––and I mean it. You and me? We’re topping that podium.” With a shared smile, the two of you pull apart, exchanging gentle high-fives and soft fist-bumps––your little pre-ice ritual that’s become second nature. Then, with one last, meaningful glance, you both glide onto the ice, your bright smiles spreading across your faces as you’re greeted by the roaring cheers of the audience.

Taking your positions at the center of the ice, you and Satoru strike your opening pose, locking eyes in a quiet moment of understanding. You both inhale deeply, synchronizing your breath before you whisper, “I trust you.” A warm smile spreads across your face as you meet his gaze. Satoru’s smile mirrors yours, his eyes soft but confident. “I trust you too, sweetheart,” he replies, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before returning to his stance.

The venue seems to hold its breath as the delicate notes of the chosen classical piece drift through the air, filling the space with an almost tangible anticipation.

As if guided by instinct, you and Satoru glide effortlessly across the ice, moving in perfect harmony. Each step, jump, spin, and lift blends together seamlessly, the months of practice manifesting into flawless execution that earn soft cheers from your teammates and a proud fist pump from your coach waiting from the sidelines.

With the final notes of the music approaching, you and Satoru brace for the last and final lift.

A flicker of uncertainty crosses your face, but it’s quickly replaced by focus as you glide into position with grace, Satoru circling you with a quiet intensity. A wordless understanding passes between you, and in an instant, he grips your hips, raising you up into the air before tossing you with a steady precision.

The world seems to pause as you spin, the faces of the crowd merging into a swirling blur. With a graceful flourish, you raise your arms high above your head, movements sharp and precise. The spin slows, culminating in a powerful finish as you strike your ending pose, your toepick firmly anchored into the ice.

Your chest rises and falls with each labored breath as you take in the stunned expressions of your friends, family, teammates, and coach. For a brief moment, the venue is wrapped in a blanket of silence, the air heavy with anticipation––then it erupts into a thunderous wave of cheers and applause, the sound crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your gaze immediately snaps to the jumbotron, heart pounding as you watch your and Satoru’s names soar to the top of the leaderboard. A stunned laugh escapes your lips, and you instinctively turn to share the moment with your partner––but he’s already one step ahead. Before you can react, Satoru’s hands fly up to cradle your face, his touch firm yet tender, and then his lips are cashing onto yours in a kiss filled with fiery intensity and raw emotion.

“I told you I’d get you that gold,” Satoru murmurs against your mouth, his voice a low, playful rumble laced with a soft chuckle. A soft laugh escapes you as your hands slide up to rest on his wrists. “Correction,” you tease, your voice barely above a whisper, “I got you that gold.” Before he can counter, you close the distance again, capturing his lips in a kiss that speaks volumes more than words ever could.

After a moment of shamelessly losing yourselves in each other, completely ignoring the cameras and family members watching from the stands, the two of you finally pull apart, breathless and flushed. Satoru’s hands shift, cradling your face as he tilts your head gently, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. The soft, intimate gesture sends a rush of warmth through you, leaving your heart pounding in a way that has nothing to do with the routine you’d just performed.

Fingers intertwined with yours, he gives your hand a light squeeze before spinning you in a graceful twirl. The fabric of your dress flutters like a whisper in the air, catching the light as the two of you come together once more, bowing deeply to the judges and the roaring crowd.

With a steady hand at the small of your back, Satoru guides you off the ice, but before you can fully process the moment, the two of you are enveloped in a crushing hug from your teary-eyed coach. “I knew you two would do it!” he exclaims, his voice cracking with emotion as he practically bounces on his feet like an overjoyed child on Christmas morning.

The medal presentation feels like a blur, a whirlwind of applause, flowers, and the weight of gold settling around your neck. Before you know it, you and Satoru are seated under a sea of flashing cameras, reporters eagerly vying for answers about your future in the sport.

“Mr. Gojo, many are wondering if this victory marks your permanent return to pairs. Will you continue competing in singles as well?” a bright-eyed reporter asks, leaving forward and thrusting a microphone toward him. Satoru chuckles, leaning back slightly as he adjusts the device. “Well,” he begins, his tone playful yet sincere as he turns toward you, his eyes softening with a tender warmth that steals your breath. “I can’t exactly leave my girlfriend now can I?”

The room buzzes with activity––murmurs spreading like wildfire, fingers flying across keyboards, and pens scratching feverishly against notepads. Yet none of it registers. All that matters is Satoru’s words, echoing in your mind, sending your heart soaring higher than it ever has before.

Satoru Gojo was nothing if not a man of his word.

From that day forward, he never left your side––on or off the ice. True to his promise (and with his usual flair), he helped you win gold after gold after gold, solidifying your reign as an unstoppable pair. Season after season, you both dominated, your partnership becoming the stuff of legends.

Now, as you stand together atop the Olympic podium, the world watches in awe. Grins stretch across your faces and you hold your gleaming medals high for the cameras. With a gentle, familiar grip––one that mirrors the trust you share in your lifts––Satoru helps you down from the podium and guides you back onto the ice.

With your attention focused on waving to roaring fans, you don’t notice the subtle shift in the atmosphere as the cameras pan over to Satoru, who, with a carefully measured smile, lowers himself onto one knee. He digs around in his costume pocket, pulling out a small black box that catches the light.

“Sweets?” he calls, his voice drawing your attention.

You turn, still beaming, and meet his gaze. “Yeah, what’s up, Toru?”

His grin widens as he presents the box, revealing a gleaming gold band with a sparkling rock nestled at its center. “I promised I’d get you gold,” he begins, his eyes glinting with excitement as he watches your face shift from surprise to shock. “Now… will you do me the honor of promising me mine?”

You can’t help but laugh at his infectious happiness, but even so, you nod, gliding forward with a heart full of emotion. Gently, you cup his face between your hands, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palms. “I’d love to do the honor of promising you your gold,” you whisper, your voice barely a breath as the moment swells in meaning.

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thehorsewaslee · 6 months ago

Text

02/Up & Down.

7th floor x female reader (the 8 show) Masterlist WC:7.0K, oops. specific chapter warnings:idk :-).

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅::]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

8th floor could not contain her smile, to her this was entertaining. The sight of her grin made you want to gag, reminds you of those pretentious chicks you’d avoid at university. The ones that would gasp when you tell them that no, you didn't have a holiday house in Italy unfortunately. You preferred to think of yourself as a girls’ girl, but sometimes social classes and stuck up ‘daddy’s money’ girls would make you lose your composure. It's not difficult to see she comes from money, if you were 8th floor you still would not spend much your first night. She, however, had decided to turn the space into her personal hotel and still have more than you’ll likely ever make here. It made your blood boil. You barely knew her but you'd already decided you really dislike her, this made you feel guilty. She didn’t do anything wrong per se but, her personality, her privilege. You needed some air. Out on the stairs, you dropped your head down in defeat.

I’m still making good money, basically work-free here. 2 nights ago I was ready to end it all, now there's actually a ray of hope. The grass is always greener on the other side. It’s ok. I’m ok. Deep breaths…

The time board, which you were sure read 30-ish hours a little bit ago now read a little under 50. If you had doubts before, you were certainly sure now. Was it fun to watch the sheer shock on our faces? Was it fun to watch 1st floor rethink his unlucky draw? Is that what you want, pain? You looked up at the ridiculous amount of cameras in every corner. Now more than ever, you wanted to hide in a little cocoon and not be perceived. But alas, the red lights remain blinking.

For some reasons beyond your comprehension, they had decided to tour everyone's rooms.

7th’s was slightly less annoying than 8th’s, having noticeably less junk. It housed a…desk? Some notebooks and pens too. On the other side of the room was a mattress with a navy bed-set on the floor. This guy is definitely an engineering or finance bro.

6th floor had bought one of those beach fold-out beds, at least that’s what you think it is. That’s actually pretty smart. He also had some blankets and a pillow; the height of luxury, obviously.

You sheepishly let them into your room, 5th floor. It was the bare booty minimum. In fact, it only housed the bucket and bags you’d gotten a few hours ago.

“How did you…sleep last night?” 2 teased.

This, to you, meant that even the lowest floors had spent at least some of their money.

“I’m used to it,” you shot her a playful glance.

4th and 3rd floors’ rooms just got progressively smaller in size, they each got themselves some form of bed and cover to spend the night. You had also noticed that as the floors went down, the view on the screen window changed, to a lower area. Both figuratively and literally.

Then 2nd floor who had bought dumbbells!

“You didn't know how long you’d be here for and this is your first instinct?” you laughed

“You didn’t even buy a pillow!”

That broke the tension a bit between the group, as snickers and giggles erupted all throughout. 2nd couldn’t help but join in on the fun.

The mood was however immediately killed when 1st floor’s room was opened. You caught yourself practically holding back tears. It was even smaller than your actual apartment and the number on the board was pathetic, at least in comparison to everything else you’d seen. Worst of all- the ceiling was so low, 1st himself could not stand upright. You're pretty claustrophobic, this would make you lose your mind you think. No one was able to meet 1’s eyes, as if all your problems had been stupid in comparison to this.

“It’s ok” he tried to break the awkward silence. “I wouldn’t have been able to climb all these stairs everyday anyway”

No one believed him.

. . .

Food delivery was successful, everyone settled on having lunch in1st’s room. It was kind of cute actually. Conversation flowed so smoothly, the main topic was obviously the situation at hand here. Theories flew around about how they think time is earned, obviously some ridiculous things were said, but it was comforting to know that no one else had any freaking idea. 4 had then brought up the topic of who we think is behind this whole thing, that got everyone thinking. Obviously they had an unfathomable amount of money. Not only were they able to plan out and execute the physicals of a place like this, they also were able to program the money, the chute, the time, the different rooms. It’s clear that this place is meant to house you for a while. 3rd got up for a smoke and ended up joining 7 right outside the room. You could barely make out what they were discussing, it seemed important. They were both looking out towards the outside area. Your mind started to think about everyone here, and how they ended up in this situation. Had they been as desperate as you are? The higher floors seemed to be coming from money, had they been desperately clawing their way up the ladder too? Or are they here for another reason? Entertainment? You were almost sure you recognised 6th somewhere, on TV you think. And 8 clearly had no trouble holding her hand back from spending. 7 you couldn’t figure out, probably a corporate dude who works in one of those high office buildings you see in the skyline. 1, 2, 3 and 4 were likely more like you, right? What kind of circumstances have pulled 8 unrelated individuals from all walks of life here with one goal. You were so lost in your mind and the countless speculations that you didn’t notice your eyes being focused on 7’s face. He was still deep in conversation with 3 but he’d turned around to match your stare, only breaking eye contact momentarily to look at 3. He then mumbled something, you thought you could make out him saying your number then both looked back at you.

My fantasy threesome. No! Stop…

You realised that to him it likely looked like you were ogling at his face. You turned away from their eyes and looked down at your plate of food, shoving a bite-too-big into your mouth out of nervousness. Your cheeks hurt from distension with the amount of food inside, you didn’t look up to check, but you hoped they turned away now. Alas, you could still feel their eyes on you.

The awkward exchange was brought to an end by a yell from outside. 2- you hadn't even noticed that she’d gotten up- was yelling at someone in the square. You got up to join 3, 4, 6 and 7 in their observation of the commotion, but not before helping 1 up from his position.

“Thank you,” he said, to which you gave him a short nod, clearly more occupied by the issue outside.

“Hey, what are you doing!,” 2 yelled at 8, you now saw what was going on.

8 had used up most of the time to buy…clothes. You were all left with just under 20 minutes till the show's end. Everyone ran down quickly to meet an annoyingly ‘confused’ 8 at the centre. She feigned cluelessness as she questioned the ruckus.

“You spent all our time on clothes!” 2 all but freaked out. “Why didn't you do it in your own room!”

8 gave an innocent look and then said; “I wanted to wear them out here. And we could always just increase the time..?”

“And how would we do that?” 7 questioned calmly (with his addictive ass voice).

8th floor looked between everyone’s distressed faces and laughed, “Really? None of you know how to get more time?”

“Stop messing around and just spit it out!” 2 inched closer to 8.

“I’ll tell you…” she trailed off for a moment. “If you apologise to me.”

“Enough games! I’m not apo-” 2 began but was cut off by 6 grabbing her arm.

“Use your words, talk it out.” he said firmly.

4th pushed between them and began to apologise on behalf of 2nd. Surprisingly this worked.

“It’s the stairs!” 8th motioned to the area behind her. “Going up and down increases the time.”

That…doesn’t even make the least bit of sense. Why would it be the stairs? Wouldn’t it be counter-intuitive to place so many cameras for a show about stairs. Surely someone saw the flaw in this theory…7!

In the spur of the action that everyone seemed to jump into, you whipped your head over to seven who was already looking at you, a look of understanding was exchanged, but the others had already started running to the steps and you two were due to join them soon. It seemed that everyone else was convinced. Or in the least bit willing to try. So, with a deep breath in, you split from 7 jogging to the stairway on the right, him on the left. Up & down. That's how you guys spent the next 15 minutes. Testing out the theory of this hellish exercise being your source of time. After a quarter hour of hardwork and heavy sweat, you all stood back, a little defeated as the clock counted down from 10 seconds. But when it reached 1, it flashed and went up again to 30 hours! A collective sigh/laugh of relief washed over you all. You’re getting another chance at this money game. A whole other day just from climbing the stairs. 8th floor giggled loudly,

“See! I told youuuu. I noticed the time go up when we were seeing the rooms and I figured it out, haha! I’m pretty smart!”

Except you weren’t convinced. Yes, ok, maybe the facts point to the obvious, but it still didn’t make any sense. Whatever.

. . .

Night fell quicker than you’d anticipated, likely because being in this space was very disorienting. You have no way of telling the actual time other than the huge clock they provide. hmm. It was the young hour of 8pm when everyone retreated to their personal spaces to sleep. 8pm for you however, signaled the end of your shift and start of you free time, so sleep was not greeting you any time soon. Your room was pretty boring, even after all the ‘decorating’ you’ve done. A fold-out bed, like 6’s, a pillow and a blanket. Plus the ‘toilet’ that you’d blocked off with a few cardboard boxes for your own peace of mind. Despite not being much, it had cost you a fortune. Tossing and turning in the prison like bed did nothing to quiet your mind nor entertain it. It killed time though. Still, the ceiling here was much more boring than the one back home and- back home! Who the hell was going to be covering your rent? It was due in a few days. Oh no…You would really rather not come home to an eviction notice. Anxiety began to bubble in your chest. Your feet quickly took you to the phone, but since you were not requesting something in-game, you were not even given a price. You looked at the nearest camera and pleaded to whomever was on the other side but still you could not rest. It was around this hour you’d take a nightly stroll anyway.

The outside was a bit cooler than the room, making you hug yourself for warmth. Forearms resting on the stairs edge, there was a faint smell of cigarettes in the air, gag. The room, vast as it was, was very unassuming from up here. You thought maybe exploring the downstairs would be fun.

Fake ice cream in the parlor, fake dogs at the stand, fake clothes in the shop, an ominous figure moving out of the corner of your eye, fake pizza at the-wait. You quickly whipped around only to be met with glasses inches away from your face. A yelp almost escaped had he not covered your mouth and pushed you into the wall. 7. Finally eye to eye after a day’s worth of side eyes.

This gave you an opportunity to take a good look at him. A bit taller than you, very intense eyes hidden behind a neat pair of round-rim glasses. The events of the day had left their print on him, hair a slight mess and cheeks tinted red from exhaustion. He looked down at you with a stong poker face and you considered biting his hand. Right now, you have no idea what his intentions are here nor what he wants with you. You stood there panting for a beat or two before he took his hand off of your lips, but not before shushing you first. You stood together in a momentary awkward silence as he let out a deep sigh and fixed his glasses back up his face. You raised an eyebrow at him, motioning him to break the ice you stood on.

“Sorry,” he started. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Wow. What would you do if did mean to startle me,” you joked, earning no reaction from him. Not a single muscle movement, not even a slight smile or anything.

Tough crowd.

His face slowly turned away from you and you followed his gaze towards the time screen.

“You didn’t seem convinced earlier with the time situation, did you have another theory?” he whispered

Of course you did, it really wasn’t that difficult to put together

“Why wouldn’t I be convinced? We saw the time go up, no?” You tried to play dumb, to which he only slightly turned his head to give you a sarcastic look. You almost squirmed under his glare. He then turned himself to be fully facing you and you mirrored his position. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and popped one into his mouth, then proceeded to tilt the pack as an offer to you, which you politely declined. He shot you a questioning look.

“They’re worse for you than I could possibly explain,” you chuckled.

He nodded as he flicked his lighter and took in a deep inhale which he exhaled from his nose in your general direction. He knew what he was doing. You let out a few fake coughs to try to get the flow of conversation to start again, he only kept eyeing you observantly.

“You’d make a terrible actress,” he said between puffs. You chose to remain silent. Another breath in, then out, “The cameras, the time, the hours added after touring the rooms, do you think I think you're that naive?”

You cursed your inability to mask your facial expressions. He must’ve seen the enlightenment on your face earlier this morning, then again on the stairs. You let out a defeated sigh.

“I think…they want a show…Content,” you hesitated.

He gave you a satisfied nod, “that’s what I fear.” And after a brief moment of contemplation; “You’re pretty observant 5,” he said, tongue in cheek.

He threw his burnt out cigarette at his feet then looked down as he stomped on it. His eyes shifted back up to your face then the clock. Almost midnight. You waited patiently for him to add to his previous statement, but you only observed him sniff lightly and fix his glasses again. His eyes met yours one last time, then he turned away and headed for the stairs. You watched as he paused after only a short distance was put between you. His hand went up to rest on his hip and the other to rub his eyes. It seemed like he wanted to say something but was unsure if he should. Before you could speak up he said;

“It’s good to know I can depend on someone here.”, Shooting you a quick look at the end then he sauntered away to his room.

Heat crept up your cheeks, and you tried to convince yourself it was due to flattery and nothing else.

. . .

The smell of something burning overwhelmed your senses. You couldn’t find the source of the smoke that was blocking your vision completely. A faint yet somehow prominent ticking was shaking your entire being with every click. Voices started circling your form, they were asking you something you couldn’t quite make out. Chanting your name in a calm, level voice, unfitting for the situation at hand.

Over

And over

And-

You turned around, now finding yourself in your old apartment’s kitchen. It felt like home. The source of the voice hunched over the sink was a man, wearing an apron over a pristine white uniform, his eyes locked on your figure, a concerned knot of his brows etched onto his forehead.

“Seven…” you sighed with relief. He gave you a confused, then sincere look, opening his welcoming arms to you. You crossed confidently into his warm embrace, this felt so natural. You’d done this more than a hundred times over. Over on the stove, he was making-burning-some scrambled eggs. There’s the source of the smoke. You said something to him and he gave a hearty laugh, not that you heard either side of this conversation. It was all blurry. You whipped around, still in his cradle to find the source of a new, loud thumping sound. The apartment front door- your train of thought was derailed when the sound became banging.

Bang!

Hurried bangs met your door, causing the fantasy around you to crumble.

5…5..

“5! Are you ok?” an unfamiliar voice called from outside, startling you awake. You rolled off the bed onto the floor, determined to stop the disturbance before gathering your thoughts. Stumbling up towards the door handle, you ripped it open to reveal a quite agitated 7, both hands on hips, glasses perched atop his head. The events of your dream started coming back to you, making your eyes widen in embarrassment. He took a deep breath in, eyebrows furrowing at your expression.

“Are you ok? We-” he was cut off by the room door slamming shut. He remained in his position for a second, confusion now settling onto his face, and fixed his glasses back were they’re of use to him.

Inside, you were having a mini spiral, heat still strong on your cheeks and down your neck.

You’ve known the man for all of 24 hours and you’re already fantasising about him?! Ok maybe not fantasising, you obviously can’t control your dreams. Dear lord, he’s barely even spoken 5 full sentences in your general direction! Girl get it together.

You ran your hands down your face, wishing you could have some ice cold water to splash yourself in right now. Heart still beating a million beats, you spent the better part of 5 minutes trying to make yourself more presentable and less like a girl who’d been dreaming of her teammate. So much for not making things weird. It hit you that, due to the absence of your alarm, you’d probably overslept and the others were likely waiting on you to begin the plight of stair climbing. You felt so awkward, you hoped they didn’t let you sleep that long. With one final stretch, you opened the door again, ready to face the crowd. You took one singular step outside before a voice startled you from the side.

“5 are you-” he started, only to be cut off by your slight jump and not so slight scream.

“You need to stop doing that.” You panted.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m fine.” That came out a bit harsher than you intended, you just need to put some air between the two of you right now, let the hormones settle or whatever. You kept your head forward as you walked to the stairs, catching a glimpse of the others who were looking up at you. This descent was encased in an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of your footsteps, 7’s a few paces beyond you.

Finally re-joining the group, you said a quick good morning and stood quietly as 7 explained the plan for today. You had your arms crossed, eyes fixed on the floor as he spoke next to you. You’re sure they heard your scream. Also why was he the one to come check up on you? You found yourself recalling last night’s interaction, reflexively biting the inside of your cheek. You looked up to find 8 smirking knowingly at you, not that there was anything to know. Her eyes bounced between you and 7 a few times as her lips spread out into her million dollar smile, clearly unable to contain excitement, and you doubt it had anything to do with the disgusting exercise you’re about to embark on. You avoided her looks timidly only to find 2 also giving you a side-eye-smirk combo.

“Okay ready? Off we go.”

For the next 4 days you went laps through the stairs to earn more time and also started to genuinely regret not just killing yourself, although the stairs have been giving you a very similar effect.

Lunch was always a treat, more figuratively than literally. Sitting in 1st floor’s room and sharing vague stories had become your favourite part of the day.

You’ve grown especially fond of 2. Her quick wit and loud laugh broke through the hardened exterior she’d put up pretty quickly. Her company was always welcome. 4th floor seemed sweet, though her continuous complaining and subtle pessimism drove you crazy sometimes.

3, a man deserving of an award for how awkward he is, had become closer to 7. Often conversing as they smoked. Watching them was a bit of a guilty pleasure of yours now. Especially the latter of the two. Maybe you should’ve taken him up on that cigarette.

The more time you spent here, the more you got closer to putting your finger on where you’ve seen 6th before. When you brought this up to him in a private conversation he stiffened up.

“Just one of those faces,” he clenched his jaw in anger, though you never found out what could have prompted that.

8 has never joined your lunches, despite 7; someone who was only the floor below her, being always present. Not that you would ever complain about either of those things.

You and him found a small…routine growing.

It had started with you lagging behind everyone going to bed, usually ending up alone. You chose to spend this time in the open air rather than the small room, it gave you a sense of tranquility. Away from the banter and bickering, embraced by the oh so familiar silence. He joined you the first night after 20ish minutes of solitude. You hadn’t expected conversation to take place between you two, owing to your brief encounter the night before, but you were pleasantly surprised.

You two were seated on the swingset side by side, him completely still as you swayed back and forth a little. There was a short lived comfortable quiet between you two, unexpectedly broken by;

“Do you want to play chess?”

And that’s how you ended up in his room, sat on the floor hunched over a freshly-bought chess set. It's not like you hadn’t played this before, but you were in no way good at it. Hell, you still take a moment to remember which piece moves which way every turn. It seemed however, that this was 7’s domain. Can this man get any more cliche. He explained the rules slowly to you, nothing stuck though, your mind was obviously elsewhere. The first match-set ended in a 3-0, his win obviously, but you held your ground pretty well, rounds lasting upwards of 40 minutes.

“Not bad,” he said after one particular move caught him off guard, prompting a fluster spell to take over you, followed by a quick loss. Maybe he planned it.

On the second night, he offered to teach you some techniques that you could use. You thought this counterintuitive because he’d know how to get you anyway. But you really couldn’t turn down getting to listen to him talk for 20 continuous minutes. Your bottom lip hurt from how often you bit it to suppress a giggle. You still lost, obviously. 2-0

The following day you used some of your money to buy a chess guide. It was less out of a crush and more so your burning competitiveness. He opened his door that night to find you; out of the uniform jacket with sleeves rolled up to your elbows and a determined look on your face. You took a little longer to meet up with him that night, spending an extra hour alone memorising new moves. You were going to wipe that cocky smirk off of his face no matter what. You’d managed to counter some of his moves and kept the games going for longer. 1 whole hour, your new personal best. It was during the final few moves from each of you that you’d taken him by surprise.

“Check-mate,” you said with a premature victory smile.

His eyes widened, hand rushing up to fix the glasses back into their preferred spot. He made an exaggerated movement of rubbing his eyes under the frame, only to look at the board again. He brought his face closer to the board and turned his eyes up to look at you as he grabbed a piece to nullify your previous move.

“You lost,” he whispered.

“Heyyy you didn’t even say checkmate!” You whined

“We don’t have to,”

“You’re playing dirty!”

You erupted into a fit of giggles, mirrored by him with a stifled laugh. You found yourself leaning back on your elbows as he also adjusted his position to be closer to you. You shut your eyes and tilted your head back, really breathing in this moment. He took this chance to properly scan you over, stopping curiously at a large scar on your left forearm.

“What’s this?” he queried.

“What?” your eyes snapped down to where he was looking. “This…is a scar?”

He rolled his eyes. “How did you get it,” he subconsciously ran his index down the discoloured tissue, sending shivers down your back.

“Oh uhm,” you stuttered nervously. “I- hey wait what happened to keeping our lives to ourselves here?”

“For one, I wasn’t the one to suggest that” he kept inspecting your arm with his finger, almost like a child fascinated by a toy. “And I beat you, three nights in a row so,”

“What? Cmon!” you scoffed. “We never agreed on this! Why don’t you tell me something about you first? Like whether or not you’re some chess champion and I’m an idiot for battling a professional.”

“You’re not in a negotiating position right now,” he laughed, that’s a first. “Just…keep it vague.”

“Protesting,” you finally answered. His face changed into an unreadable expression, followed by what you could swear was him being a bit impressed.

“Didn’t take you as the type,” he hesitated.

“Wow, I’m a little offended.”

“No I just- you look a lot more like a pacifist.”

“No I hate sitting around doing nothing in the face of corruption, gotta fight for what you love you know.”

Sensing the sudden heaviness that fell onto your conversation you got up to leave. He remained in his position on the ground, cogs clearly turning inside. You reached for the door handle.

“Don’t hurt your brain thinking too hard, pretty.” you didn’t mean for that last part to be said out loud. He snickered.

“I’m not.”

“Good,”

“No, I mean I’m not a grandmaster. I just play for fun,”“Gotya, I’ve been losing to just some guy. Great.”

“Goodnight 5,”

“Good night 7,”

. . .

It had been a long 4 days. Food was never enough anymore, having each of you fight chopstick to chopstick for the last bite of anything was beginning to weigh down on everyone. A collective sigh erupted around 1st’s room.

“We must be burning like 30000 calories a day, shouldn’t we be getting more food?” 4th questioned.

“Hmm I could really go for a hot dog right now,” 3rd all but moaned, head resting on the wall behind him.

“We need to divide the work in two,” 6th dropped his utensils onto the empty boxes. Now that sounded like a plan. Go team!

So, everyone decided that, starting the next morning, you’ll split into 2 equal teams to divide the work. The odds and the evens, a genius solution to-

“I want to switch, we don’t get along,” 2 sighed. She had a point though, her and all the other members of her team had been picking petty fights and arguments all week. You’ve all had to practically pull them apart, especially with 6 and 8. It would be best if she switches,yes. You gave it a moment of thought , yeah no. Not jumping into that piranha pit. Who in their right mind would-

“I don’t mind which team I’m on,” 1st floor the man that you are.

And so it was decided, team 1 (odds) will be running tomorrow while team 2 (evens, obvi) rests. Whichever team does the work that day gets 2 meals per person, whilst the resting team gets only 1, allowing us to both rest and digest on alternating days. A satisfying tandem.

. . .

“What do you think of the new system?” Chess set long abandoned in favour of a cigarette to ease his mind. Always the worrier, he was.

“I think it will work. Or I hope it does anyway,”

“Still think it isn’t the stairs?”

You’d actually completely forgotten that. “...I don’t know.”

. . .

The system worked well, for 5 days you switched back and forth between leisure and hardwork.

You would often observe 1st floor on your days off. Witnessing him falling very far behind due to his leg. You wanted to ask him about it but never found the right time. It led to him meeting his lap quota way later than anyone else, but you knew if you called out the unfairness you’d only be met with criticism. Plus tension was already high in that group. On the upside, you got to watch 7 find ways to entertain himself on your down-time (and all hot and sweaty on odd days). The most entertaining thing to do though, was utilising this time with 2nd floor. She tried to teach you some of her calisthenics, but those moves were really easier watched than done. Even 3rd joined you on multiple occasions giving you the purest form of entertainment. And your most favourite; men falling flat on their ass.

The bubble was abruptly burst by a scream echoing from the stairwell, and you all rushed to the victim’s aid. You arrived to see 6th floor tightly clutching 1st’s hand. You didn’t catch what he told him, too focused on determining if there was an injury to tend to or not. Old habits die hard. 2nd pushed past 6th, making a point of bumping into him on her way up. 1st protested, and you gathered what happened here. She was covering for him.

“I get stiff when I don’t workout.”

When your day rolled around the following morning, she was clearly exhausted from the added load and collapsed halfway through the top.

“You ok?” you crouched next to her.

“Yeah yeah fine, just need a minute.”

. . .

“I don’t need it,” 2nd protested.

“Yeah you do actually,” you refuted. “Plus I’m full.” Liar.

She wanted to continue arguing but her stomach clearly had the upper hand. 7 gave you a small smile from the other side of the stuffy room. You’d become better at figuring him out, every twitch and blink of his like its own secret code. You held his eyes for a few more seconds, but with the state of him at the moment- cheeks red, eyes tired and the day’s hard work evident on his face- you thought it best to look away.

This incident happened again, a day later with 3rd floor as well. Noble as it was, it came with the looming threat of 6th floor’s bubbling impatience. 4th floor, whom you’d previously thought to be on the kinder side, was upset at 1st floor eating his regular meal schedule. It's not like he wasn’t working at all, just less than usual. You couldn't understand what the big deal was, it really wasn’t like he was holding everyone back.

. . .

A well deserved mid-work break in your personal quarters was now a luxury you didn’t previously predict. With unease weighing heavy on everyone, group meals were switched out for solitude, for the best anyway. 2nd floor would sometimes join you to sit in silence together. Well, usually sit in silence.

“You almost got it,” her gruff voice commented, still eating her food.

“Really? It feels like the wall is doing all the work right now,” you flopped back down, an ‘oof’ sound escaping as your back hit the floor.

She dusted her hands, getting up to show you.

“It’s all in your mindset,”

“What kind of health pseudoscience is that?” you giggled, watching her perfectly do a handstand in the middle of the room.

She gave you an unimpressed look, “You’re close minded. Your putting too much focus on just your body, but if you're scared of falling, you won’t be able to get up there,”

“Deep,”

“No. I’m talking about handstands, don’t make it profound,” she chuckled as she dropped back down, pausing for a moment before talking again.

“What’s with you and glasses?”

“What?”

“Saw you sneaking up to his room the other night” she gave you a cheeky look.

“I was not *sneaking*, it was late and I didn’t want to wake anyone up. We just play chess together, that’s all. And we’re just friends,”

“Why at night?”

“Neither of us can sleep that early. Plus we’re sort of busy during the day?” you made a pendulous up and down movement with your finger.

“And our days off?”“What were you doing up that late anyway?”

“Irrelevant, answer the question.”

“I-” You paused to think. Why *did* you two only meet in such late hours. This had completely gone past you somehow. Outside, you would never entertain a guy that only seeks you out after sundown, why had you let it happen here? Yeah sure, it's nicer at night with no one else around but…but what? You two weren’t a thing, this was just a silly crush! He doesn’t owe you anything. And you don’t have to prove anything now.

“It’s just how it is 2nd, don’t read too much into it.”

Her face had morphed into that of subtle anger.

“You and I are friends, you don’t see me hiding that.” she huffed, her tone changing to that of quiet scolding. “You can’t trust him! Especially not those floors. I don’t know what he wants with you, but I’d keep my guard up.”

. . .

The chute groaned open unexpectedly, filling the room with a pungent smell. Inside, dozens of black bags were stacked up next to bottles of…pee? You couldn’t even try to theorise as to what might be going on here. Standing up to find an answer, you walked over to the door, abandoning your food, appetite long gone. You opened the door to find the welcoming blond haired woman leaning against the frame. Before you could ask, she said;

“1st feels guilty about not being able to keep to keep up, so he offered to keep everyone's waste in his room,”

“And the others agreed to pile up their crap in the smallest room?”

She shrugged and walked away.

You thought of the kind man 4 floors below you, and how his conscience put him in this position. It didn’t make sense though. He’s already at the most disadvantage here, both by earning the least and having a tiny tiny living space. You thought of how the bags would hinder movement even further, and how, since everyone would eat in his room, he’d already had to stockpile the empty boxes. And oh god the stench. You only had the chute open for a minute or two but you’re sure the smell was going to haunt you tonight. The number of bags in the metal box -obviously belonging to the top three floors- had you guessing if some of them had an explosive week and a half. Probably 6th. Your eyes looked over to your own stock of goods. No, your room was big enough. You hit the button to close the chute and send it down without contributing to this mess of a situation. It was time to get back to running so you did some of the stretches that 2nd taught you to ease the aching muscles.

. . .

“You look like you need an exorcism”

“Sorry we don’t all have loose ligaments”

“What does that even mean”

. . .

You opened the already unlocked door to regroup with your team, only to find a disgruntled 2 leaning against the railing.

“Did you do it?” she questioned with a poker face.

“No,” “3rd and 4th did. 6th and 8th too,”

“7th?”

“No idea,” she looked off to the side.

Before you could say anything else, 3rd floor zoomed up past you, tripping over nothing for no reason. Followed by 7th, who shot a ‘get to work look’ at both of you. This pissed her off.

“Why does he act like he’s the only person here with a brain?” It was more a statement than a question. You dropped your head down in a defeated sigh. He really does act like that.

“We should-”

“After you.”

. . .

1st floor’s idea brought life back to the show, with 6th floor’s glares long gone, everyone felt at ease. Group lunches became a daily thing again and you think that you saw 6 smiling at 1 the other day, though you might’ve just been hungry. Your visits to 7th’s room had become less

frequent, owing mostly to the talk you had with 2nd, though he did not seem to overthink the change. 1st floor would still help, at his own pace, which baffled you. Was he now not doing twice the work? No-one else seemed to mind, but you thought of a way to give back to your unlucky teammate. You had noticed earlier that he had next to no belongings in his room, nothing to sleep with specifically. Before the next waste delivery came around, you bought a warm blanket and a soft pillow -nicer than the ones you got yourself, since you’re likely spending a while here anyway- and wrapped them in an unassuming black bag with ‘open me’ written on with some marker. You made a point of blending it in with the other bags just because you really don’t know 4th floor’s situation and you feared someone else would take it. It wasn’t much, but it was the least you could do. The following morning, you awoke to see a well rested, smiley 1st floor, it filled you with warmth.

“Oh 1st floor, how did you get that” 3rd floor noticed the new living situation during lunch.

“Someone sent it to me as a gift I think,” he smiled from ear to ear. “They did not mention who they were…thank you.” he bowed his head to everyone in the room.

Looks were exchanged all around but you’d managed to keep a poker face and act as surprised as the others, you didn’t do this for praise afterall. More for the community.

The issue at hand now was the time, which had not been meeting the quota you predicted it would. It all came to a head on an even day.

They had been running all day, with not a minute gained on the time.

“Screw this, I’m going back to my room.” 8th pushed past 4th.

“What?” she panted back to her.

“It’s not working, I’m not doing this anymore.”

“You can’t just-” but she’d already turned away.

You looked back at the clock desperately, still nothing. Your team ended up joining them, in a miserable attempt to prolong your stay. Up and down till nightfall. 8 hours remained ticking down by the end of the day. But then, as all was seemingly hours away from being lost. The time shot up 20 minutes, then another. A laugh of relief escaped everyone's mouth.

“Stupid thing was lagging” 6th wheezed. With that, you called it in for the night, hopeful that tomorrow, things will go back to how they were.

Oh how you couldn’t be more wrong.

. . .

Another morning waking up to panic and banging on your door. You rushed up and out of the room to cast your eyes to the time. 20 minutes. What happened! This can’t end like this. Everyone began doing their part frantically. Up & down. You finished just the one cycle before a different kind of panic erupted from the stairs a few floors below you. Rushing down to a small gathering of your teammates, hunched over someone flat on the ground, you pushed yourself in between to assess the situation. 4th floor, seizure.

“She’s seizing!” you panted as you put her into the recovery position.

“Do you have medical training?” Really 7th? Is this really the time to ask this? What does it look like?

“EMT.”

“What does she need?”

“Phenytoin! She needs Phenytoin!” At that, 2nd and 3rd rushed down to reach the square for the medicine. In hindsight, it would've probably been quicker if they used one of the rooms, too late now.

7th helped you carry her all the way down, but by the time you met with everyone, a fist fight had erupted. 6th had tackled 2nd to the ground. 7th left your side to try to control the situation only to be roped into the fight. 3rd’s nose was now bleeding.

“She could get permanent brain damage!” Your reasoning fell onto deaf ears

It all happened so fast- the fight, the call and…giggles. You looked behind you to find 8th floor, hunched over herself and clutching her stomach in laughter.

“Can’t you see what I see?” she wiped actual tears from her eyes.

True to her words, a marvelous site casted its glow upon all onlookers.

Time was added.

03/ Chess not checkers.

#the 8 show #7th floor #The 8 show x reader #7th floor x reader #Phillip Yu x reader #kdrama

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astriiformes · 7 months ago

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Another thing I've noticed about my own work (as well as what kind of fic I like to read, too, but alas, I have no control over if that gets written or not, just my own stories) is that I am very interested in what happens after a bad thing happens. Whether that's literal physical healing or a more emotional recovery process (or both) varies, but I think there's a tendency for really whumpy fics to be very in the moment, whereas I am always invested in thinking about the aftermath and healing process.

It doesn't suit everything I've written, obviously--some stories are always going to be a bit more self-contained, especially when writing for events (like Whumptober)--but it's definitely one of those themes I'm constantly circling in my writing. I've been thinking about it recently because of From This Valley They Say You Are Going, because while I'm certainly not the first fic author to ask what would've happened if that moment in Part III went really, really wrong, most other treatments I've seen have essentially been the authorial equivalent of going "Hey, if Marty got shot, would that be fucked up or what?" -- a noble question, obviously, but a little subtly different than my take on the idea.

Not to say any one version is better or anything, just, sometimes you think about why you write what you write, you know?

#t-shirt that says 'i love thinking about consequences'#hastily pulled off to reveal a second shirt underneath that reads 'FOR FICTIONAL CHARACTERS'

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nanami-is-nanamean · 9 months ago

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for literal years (i have no sense of time, its honestly probably just half a year but i could be horrifically wrong—i blame covid for destroying it), i have had this... au. where i just. put nanami. in hsr.

like—instead of caelus or stella being the mc, nanami is and thats whats hes been doing all those years when he was away from sorcery. i do hc that he spent at least one year as a salaryman to get that signature "my soul has been sucked out by capitalism" look and "we should reform society to be better" mindset lmao

i imagine that like—the way it works is that everything happens roughly the same in the main story, its just the little minute differences that change kinda like how everyones playthru of hsr is slightly different because we chose diff dialogue options or whatever

so like—he goes thru belobog, goes thru the xianzhou, goes thru penacony, and then all the side quests, and thats when he decides to go back home (did i base it off my own hsr progress? haha... yeah. lmao)

i dont know who exactly he goes down back to earth with but i do have this one scene in my head where he meets up with himeko. and as much as i like the idea of him going down alone, i dont think the express is gonna let him lmao. best i can imagine is march and welt. welt because this is the most similar to his old home of hi3 (which i want to play so bad but alas i have a life), and march because she serves as a nice contrast to the low energies of nanami and welt AHAHA

i did consider benching her since shes been going to expeditions nonstop but like—the contrast gotta b there honey, thats what you call good writing and good character dynamic lmao. but yeah—he goes down, calls up gojo, and welt and march go off to fuck about.

i imagine that gojos fuckin stunned to see him after so many years because like—he was working a dead end job and then one day he fucking disappears. and it would scare gojo too since like, his entire thing is being able to see things, to percieve things, and as op as gojo is, im p sure he isnt able to see far enough to find nanami in the cold and dark depths of space. all he knows is—he was there, and then, his cursed energy disappears like a candle that went out. all he can assume is that he died or some curse users got to him. but if he died, a sorcerer of his caliber would produce a CRAZY curse spirit. and if curse users got to him, there would be some sort of trace or destruction left behind as a trail because nanami wont go that easy and if he did turn into a curse user, he would be able to pick up the curse energy residue.

so now here he is, back infront of him like some kind of disappearing act AND with some strange and crazy energy inside him. like a fucked up star or black hole or something. somethings obviously happened to him, and if the weird disappearance and reappearance or the weird-ass thing inside him didnt clue him in—he would rip out his own eyes. and he KNOWS that is this nanami because the Six Eyes never lie. (hehe kenjaku prison realm moment)

so now hes tasked with figuring out what the fuck happened to nanami and what the fuck that pulsing thing inside him is—but hes conflicted about it because jesus christ, it was just him and ieiri for so long and theyre both so desperate and so happy to see an old friend again and—and they don't know if they can disregard whatever the fuck happened to him and if hes a threat, because god they missed him so much (hehe geto moment)

MEANWHILE march and welt are snooping around and they find a curse, which they easily defeat obviously and welt has... a WEIRD feeling about these "curses". like hes experienced facing this kind of energy before... so they go curse hunting a little bit more and holy shit. thats when welt realizes.

the reason why the curses and curse energy is so familiar is because he REALLY DID face this sort of energy before—and he faced that energy in the form of rAIDEN MEI WHEN SHE WAS WAVING AROUND HER NIHILITY ABILITIES. so now the express HAS to start meddling because the fucking NIHILITY is HERE and this world has been drowning in the powers of the nihility for actual fucking CENTURIES and at this point, and its going to be too goddamn predictable if theres a fucking stellaron causing it. (there isnt but theyre so used to it at this point lmao)

so yeah! thats my setup for an hsr x jjk crossover lmao

oh yeah its totes nanago AHAHHAHAHA—its implied but idk if it got thru KJHDFJLGkHSLK

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cupcakewebkinz · 2 months ago

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Haii, I've been thinking about our idea of Delilah cutting out Vee's charge so she won't become overstimulated and start doing zoomies and stuff. I actually got something in mind tho-

After Gardenview shutdown, Vee understood that she won't last long with her cutted out battery as she would either malfunction from lack of charge, or not being able to escape danger. She also felt absolutely terrible and drained, constantly driven by thoughts of being a burden and not bringing any benefit. Her inability to understand why some toons think she is rude and emotionless only weighs on her more. Even with the support of her loving girlfriend and friends, she couldn't bring herself to think that everything would be okay in the future, because she was literally falling apart at the seams. That's why she decided that she needed more energy. She thought that she would be much more useful to others, that she would no longer be a burden. But she couldn't do it on her own, that's why she first turned to Shelly for help. But Shelly wasn't that good at fixing her gf at the time, so they turned to Brightney. Maybe she would know something about her system,because she's smart!! But she couldn't do much either. And then, having lost hope, Vee went to Dandy. Making a flower talk was a very difficult task, especially for Vee, so she had to immediately lay out everything that was eating her ftom the inside. And Dandy simply couldn't refuse his friend. Yes, they have disagreements, but nevertheless, they care about each other, no matter how much they denied it. And then Dandy entered Vee's system, and with great effort, but managed to remove the battery limiter from her. (I personally hc that Dandy somehow knows about lot of stuff including how Vee's system works. He has a lot of free time,so he study. Blehh😝) After that, they did not cross paths so often, alas. But thanks to Dandy, Vee started to feel a lot better. She noticeably became more active, and also rediscovered what zoomies are, lol. By the way, it was when Shelly learned how to calm Vee down during zoomie, or help her through it together. Whaddya think?

- Dandy anon!!! I actually asked you a lot of stuff here, just didn't sign it!! /silly

YOU'VE BEEN ALIVE THE ENTIRE TIME YOU STINKER!!!!! I WAS WORRIED ABOUT YOU!!! I get it though, sometimes you really wanna stay anonymous - but I do care about my named anons very much yes indeedy~

Feel free to keep switching between not using it and using it man, but please do let me know you're still good sometimes, okay? I love y'all (platonically) like I love my moots, I just wanna make sure y'all are okay ♡

TIME FOR LORE YEEAAAHHH!!!

Vee honestly wouldn't actually know why she's sluggish, she just assumed she was built like that since she only had like, what- 2-3 days of full battery before Del noticed her zoomies. Arthur watched her for the first few days and thought her zoomies were hilariously adorable, he has no idea she stopped because she had her battery capped - he thought she grew out of them. If only he knew... 😔

Anyways-

I feel like most of the rest of it is pretty on par though!

She would always ask Shelly to see if she can find out what's wrong, and Shelly obviously would happily try - but without Veronica there to give her lessons, she's left clueless as fuck. So Vee would go to Bright and Glisten, since they both have basic knowledge of her systems and could possibly figure out if she needed a new battery or if something was installed to limit her instead. Brightney would be the one to find out about the cap first, but neither her or Glisten would be able to remove it without possibly breaking something in the process.

So Vee would begrudgingly go to Dandy, who she doesn't really like because he started acting very different before Gardenview fully closed and she hated it. They'd absolutely argue at first, but he'd probably say something that makes Vee break down and finally snap and tell him everything that's going on with her and they'd... Actually have a bonding moment then. He'd be the Dandy she grew up with, just for that moment, and be comforting her and being completely honest with her again, being her best friend once again as she buried her screen into his sweater - just like she used to when she got overwhelmed and he comforted her through it. He'd fix her right up again, though afterwards it would be back to the Dandy we see in game - pretending like nothing is wrong and that it was foolish to think Gardenview really was fully closed to. Coping in a horrible way that made his ex friends think they were delusional. That he wanted them to twist.

But Vee clings to that memory of being fixed by him and being reassured again like a lifeline because at the end of it all - she still loves and misses the other mains dearly. She still wants to be his friend - but she knows that the Dandy she was friends with is long gone now.

And yes, Dandy wears a sweater in my au, specifically only when Gardenview has no guests. Why? He just likes how it feels, seriously- that's it. He just really likes how wool feels. He's such a dork before the incident... I need to write pre-incident caretaker Shanon au Dandy and actually post it for once goddamn. He's such a cutie patootie-

AGH I NEED TO WRITE ABOUT S+R AU'S DANDY TOO OH MY BOY MY BABY-

wait what if that dandy meets this vee and shelly-

Wait.

Wait that would be so cute actually-

GOD DAMMIT KAI STOP GIVING YOURSELF IDEAS THAT AREN'T RELATED TO THE ASKS- /silly (and to myself)

#kai rambles #lol #dandys world #dandy anon #<- look you get a tag now too bud #you're an official anon here now #woohoo!#anon ask #kai answers #caretaker Shanon au lore #<- should I use this tag for lore related asks? /genuine #or do I keep it all in one tag?#lmk #I'll be workin over here so apologies for any unanswered asks from now on #I gotta make a new poll #yeehaw

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mla0 · 6 months ago

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Patrick and Michael for the bingo?

AAAAAA. i love them.

okay so. with michael i feel like he is in fact perfect and i would kill for him. i'm squeezing him like a little pudding cup and he will squeak a bit and it's awesome. he has been done dirty by the fandom though. he's either infantalized like a sad little baby or he's written as an evil cunt who is manipulative and horrible and it makes me froth at the fucking mouth. he isn't given enough love in the realm of slenderverse protags and people who slander him make me violent. bro is literally just trying to survive and he cares about his family. yes, sometimes he went too far, but if you can forgive patrick and shaun's actions in the series you can forgive michael's. he's literally just a guy and he's been through WAY too much shit. he just wanted help and support from the people around him, but by the end he kinda gives up entirely. and ironically, shaun seemed to need him in the same way michael needed her, but neither one was really there for each other when it was most important. do you ever think about how stormy's death indirectly killed both the andersen siblings. anyways.

with patrick i feel similarly. i think he has a bit of wasted potential though. i wanted to see him MORE!!!! i wanted to see into his little brain MORE!!!!! alas. perhaps it is the point that we don't. he's everything to me. also done dirty by the fandom because oh my god. i'm not even going to talk about it i'll start throwing things around the room with my mind. i think he is truly a good person, he just believes the ends justify the means. sometimes people have to hurt in order to survive and he feels guilty for the things he knows he has to do. everything he does is for the benefit of his family surviving and i am so sick of him being portrayed as selfish. frankly i don't think i will ever forgive fandom for what's been done to him. i am the most mad about patrick over anyone else who's been done dirty in history and i'm the no. 1 shaun fan in the world. so this should tell you a lot.

i would put "everyone is wrong about them but me" but i think everyone is wrong about them but you. you are the patrick writer of all time and you made me go from thinking he's fine to amazing. thanks for the new layer of autism btw

#patrickandersen0 #mlandersen0 #mla0 #ask game #michael andersen #patrick andersen #slenderverse #inbox

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jamisonwritestf2trash · 2 years ago

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Mercs favourite books? Doesn't have to be written in the time the game is set ofc

The TF2 Mercs Favorite Books!

teehee and all that, I love this prompt. Thank you for sending it, Anon! We're also going to have to assume half of them can even read. I kinda stuck to the classics just for funsies. Also, I added their favorite quotes from the books!

But, anyway, here we go!

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Spoilers, maybe? Probably not.

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Demo- The Anarchist Cookbook (William Powell)

Now, let's be honest. This man went through the table of contents like a checklist. I personally think Demo and Soldier took a particular liking to the entry, "Converting a shotgun into a grenade launcher." They're just so silly like that. Anyways, once he started making mustard gas, the other mercs decided that it would be a good idea for the book to go missing. Little did they know he had eight separate copies of this book. He was very proud when he finished the book. Everyone was concerned at the new horde of weapons and drugs Demo had, until he offered to share, then they were thrilled.

“If a man is to be a man, a free spirit unto himself, he must arm himself not only with weapons but with ideals and concepts he is willing to die for.”

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Engie- Charlotte's Web (E. B. White)

Hear me out! Even though this man has eleven PhDs, he doesn't like to read long drawn out novels. He doesn't like most of the "classics" or even most new books. Don't get me wrong, he loves to read. He just doesn't get why books can't be simple. He read Charlotte's Web when he was a kid, and it just kind of stuck with him. It was one of the only books he read that didn't really feel like a chore to read. He finds himself rereading it frequently. You'll catch him reading it to Pyro too, I personally think him and Pyro read books together a lot.

“I don’t understand it, and I don’t like what I don’t understand.”

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Heavy- The Odyssey (Homer)

Would you believe me if I told you this man is a huge fan of Greek mythology? He has no clue why, he was never interested in it when he was younger, or even up until he read the read The Odyssey. He picked it up from a library, it had a really pretty gold cover, so he read the description and figured why not? When I tell you this man was so obsessed with this book while he was reading it for the first time. He just like, wouldn't stop reading it? Like the other mercs were slightly worried that he was reading all the time. Because, sure, he probably reads more than the others, but this was excessive even for him. He loves the escape it provides, he likes the adventurer, he likes the fantasy. He just really loves this book.

“For a friend with an understanding heart is worth no less than a brother”

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Medic-The Tell Tale Heart (Edgar Allan Poe)

Are we really super surprised that Medic is a fan of The Tell Tale Heart? He's also just a fan of Poe in general, but alas, I will put that away and focus on the book itself. Medic loves reading the main characters' descent into madness. He also loves the idea of someone who seemingly has a lack of guilt be riddled with it, though a different medium than actually feeling guilty. (i hope that made sense) He's just a huge fan of artists using their mediums to inflict psychological torture on their creations. Also lets be honest if Medic ever went fully insane he'd be like the main character from the book.

“Now this is the point. You fancy me a mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded...”

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Scout- Romeo and Juliet (William Shakespeare)

HEAR ME OUT AGAIN! This man doesn't read, he has ADHD and dyslexia, how can you expect him to? But! When he was in high school it was required reading and this man struggled with like the first page, but it was really important for his grade so he tried literally everything to read it, and once he actually found out a way to be able to read the book, he was hooked, as weird as that seems. He thinks old English is hilarious, and actually liked the romance, he cried when Romeo and Juliet died. He can't tell you why he loves it so much though, it just stuck in his brain and never left. He even went out and bought his own copy of the book, it remains hidden as to not alert the other mercs to his love of it, reads it once a month.

"I defy you, stars."

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Sniper- The Outsiders (S. E. Hinton)

So, I know this is Snipers headcanon, but..... I gotta talk about Scout really quick. So Scout has read The Outsiders, and he loved it! (Not as much as Romeo and Juliet, but enough to also have bought the book.) So one day, he's talking to Sniper about books, and is utterly shocked at the idea that not everyone has read The Outsiders, so he literally reads this book with such conviction to Sniper, (Sniper claimed he would read it on his own but Scout know he absolutely would not.) So Sniper begrudgingly listens to the book, and actually finds himself drawn into the story.

“He sure put things into words good.”

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Spy- Dracula (Bram Stoker)

Spy would be a vampire if he could be, wouldn't ever admit that though. Okay I'm half kidding. I think Spy really likes this book for the drama of it all, the fact that it never stays the same for long, the way it borders on actual horror, but is too dramatic to actually be scary, he just ugh, he loves it so much. I think he first found the book by it just being in his home when he was a kid. His mom just left it sitting somewhere and he just went and picked it up because he was bored and just started reading. I think he was originally scared by the book, probably cried the first time he read it. Then years later, he just remembered the book that traumatized him as a kid and he was like, it can't be that bad, I'll read it again to prove younger me was a coward. So he reads it and just falls in love with the book.

"I am longing to be with you and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air."

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Soldier- Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)

Uh, so, do I need to put a hear me out for the third time? So I already headcanon that he likes Jane Austen, I'm so torn between him actually understanding and grasping hidden meanings and deep plot point and him just smiling and nodding along to the silly drama unfolding. Maybe both? His mom actually read it to him when he was younger, because it was her favorite book. The memories of his mom talking about and reading the book also contributes to the reason he likes the book so much. He has his mom's worn copy of the book and loves it. He'll reread it at least twice a month, always thinking about the first time he was introduced to it. Loves everything about the book.

"There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me."

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Pyro- Alice in Wonderland (Lewis Carroll)

Dont get them started with all the things they love about this book. If they could talk, they'd rant for hours. Who am I kidding they still rant for hours even though no one can understand them. They love the whimsy and insanity of Wonderland. They love the Cheshire cat and the Mad Hatter. They read this book every day. It's not even just their favorite anymore. It's the only book to ever exist 😭 On days when Pyro isn't able to read the book, they beg Engie to read it to them. Engie doesn't mind. He loves to see Pyro get all happy when he agrees.

“Imagination is the only weapon in the war with reality.”

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So that took forever to churn out for some reason, maybe because I had to actually remember reading some of these books and actually read others 😭 Sorry it's not super long or detailed! I tried not to spoil the contents of the books.

Regardless, it was fun to do, and I think I'm finally back in the swing of things! I feel more motivated, uh tons of asks came in after this sooooo expect lots of uploads after this, I think I have at least six asks right now?

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #team fortress headcanons #tf2 hcs #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro

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