#anyway i hope you enjoy this ms tori

[perfectlywrongformend3s]

Fingers Crossed-Miguel Diaz

A/n: All right Miguel is my favorite character from the show even though I do like other ones, but he's my first favorite. Anyway I honestly just thought of this idea from listening to this song. So I hope you enjoy it, and I also hope it's not confusing. If it is, let me know and I'll do some editing.

Song: Fingers Crossed

Written: Lauren Spencer-Smith

-Samantha

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Introduced me to your family, Watched my favorite shows on your TV, Made me breakfast in the mornin', When I got home from work'

I was walking hand and hand with Miguel to go over to his house. I was super nervous to meet his mom and grandmother even though he told me that his mom would love me and his grandmother already adores me.

" Babe, you all right?" he asked

I turned to him and smiled. " Yeah, I'm great."

He didn't look at all convinced, but went with it. He gave my hand a squeeze when we were getting closer to his house. I took a breath before he opened the door of his house.

" Mom, I'm home. I brought over Y/n." he announced

All I could do was stand by the door which made Miguel chuckle before pulling me gently over to his mother. She gave me a smile. " Oh my. You're  so beautiful. I'm so glad Miguel found someone like you." She gushed

I let out a small giggle at Miguel's face due to what his mother said. " Thank you Ms. Diaz. Miguel is so wonderful. You've raised him to be a perfect gentleman." I said

She smiled and looked over at him before back over to me. " Oh, honey, just call me Carmen."

I just nodded, I was about to ask where Mrs. Diaz was, but she came over and smiled. She then patted Miguel on the arm and said, " Elegiste uno bueno Miggy."

Miguel just smiled and looked over at me. She then came over to me, and stated..." Eres preciosa."

I smiled and told her " Gracias"

Miguel then told them..." Well we're going to go to my room."

They smiled and Carmen said..." Be safe Miggy and the door stays open."

All he did was pull me away from them. I just laughed at how red he got. We both then got comfy on his bed with his laptop to watch y/f/s.

'Makin' plans to travel 'round the world, Said we'd always put each other first, Old love songs we used to play to funny, now I hate you'

I was sitting at home thinking of all the plans Miguel missed. We were supposed to go to the movies tonight, but he called and said something came up. I couldn't respond to him because I didn't know what to say. I just want to go out with my boyfriend, but I don't even think we're together anymore. I mean we're not physically broken up, but I feel like we should be. All I could think of was hating him and hating this whole relationship.

'Shoulda paid attention to my friends, Tellin' me how bad it's gonna end, Always giving' their opinions, Now I wish I would have listened'

"I told you he was gonna go back to that bitch Sam." Tory said

I could feel my eyes get watery. I then felt a warm arm wrap around me. I could tell it was Robby due to his cologne he wears.

"We're here for you Y/n/n. We won't let him near you okay. We promise." he said

I saw Tory nod her head and then she wrapped her arm around my waist from the other side. I'm so happy to be in my best friend's arms. " Thanks guys. I don't know what I would die without you."

They both let out a chuckle. " You probably wouldn't survive one minute." Tory said

I let out a small laugh which made them both smile. I then just spent the rest of the day curled up next to them.

'I could say I'm sorry, but I'm not, You don't deserve the one thing that you lost'

I was watching Miguel and Sam from inside my car practicing their karate. I really wish I could apologize for whatever made him want to cheat, but Tory told me that there's nothing I should be sorry for.

Miguel's POV

I saw Y/n's car out of the corner of my eye. I couldn't help, but feel bad for the things I'm doing. I just never got over Sam and it was probably a mistake to cheat and not break up with her. " Sam, one second."

She  looked over to see what my attention was on and grinned. " Just text her and say it's over."

I know I shouldn't have listened, but all I could think was Sam. Once I shot the text we got back to our sparring.

Your POV

I heard my phone ding and the words on my screen broke my heart. I didn't respond. All I did was throw my phone in the back seat and let out a frustrated scream. I then drove off to Tory's job just to be close with her, since I don't want to be alone right now.

'Now, I...                                                                                                                                                                                             Remember when you'd call me late a night, And I gave you my hours and advice just tryna fix you, And all you daddy issues, But now, I don't even miss you anymore'

I heard my phone ring, so I picked it up and smiled. " Hey Miggy."

I could tell he was smiling. " Hey babe."  

I asked " So, what advice do you need this time?"

He let out a gasp. " How do you know I don't just want to hear your voice?"

I let out a giggle, " Cause Miggy, I know you."

" Okay you caught me. I just need some comfort tonight."

I sighed " Why? What happened? Did Kyler come at you again or did something happen with Johnny?"  

He just chuckled. " Slow down Y/n. Breath,  it's just that Johnny is working us so much that I'm physically tired all the time."

" Awe babe. Why not just have a sit down conversion with him and explain to him how it makes you feel. I don't want you to get too stressed out from doing too much."

He let out a sigh. " Thanks babe."

'So, I...                                                                                                                                                                                                           I want all the tears back that I cried, All the hours spent given advice on how to write your songs, All you did was prove me wrong, When you said you love me, Well, you must've had your fingers crossed.'

All I could think about was helping Miguel with hours of karate moves. I helped him by telling him how to improve and he would always smile at me.

" Thanks babe."

I nodded and gave him a small side hug and he added a small kiss to the side of my head. " I love you. " he whispered in my right ear

I smiled and whispered in his left ear, " I love you too."

But now I know the truth he never really loved me I think. Was it all an act to make Sam jealous?

'(Oh-oh, oh-oh) Your fingers crossed, (Oh-oh, oh-oh) Your fingers crossed, (Oh-oh, oh-oh) Oh, when you said you loved me, Well, you must've had your fingers crossed.'

I was hanging out with Tory and Robby at the roller rink having a blast. I then thought I saw Miguel, but then when I looked again he was gone. I felt a hand make contact with my shoulder. " Y/n, you all right?" Tory asked

I turned to face them and smiled. " Yea, all good." I paused for a second before starting..." You know what I'm going to get closer."

They both looked shocked, but also supportive.

" Yes,You go girl. You tell him." Tory said

Robby just smiled, " Go get him and put him in his place."

I let out a soft chuckle while waving and headed for the door.

'Oh, I...                                                                                                                                                                                         I want all the tears back that I cried, All the hours spent giving advice on how to write your songs, All you did was prove me wrong, Wish you said you loved me, When you didn't have your fingers crossed.'

I was preparing to knock on Miguel's door when I heard another door open. I spun around to find Johnny. I gave him a friendly smile. He smiled back and walked over to his car.

" Hey, Don't be afraid, I know what he did was very wrong and he deserves what's coming to him, but you were my favorite out of all the girls he's gone out with." he said with a wink

I let out a small giggle, " Thanks Johnny." I smiled

He just nodded and went in his car. I took one last breath and then knocked on the door. It opened and he was standing right there. I gave him a small smile.

" Um...I just wanted you to know that I always loved you Miggy. I don't know about you, but that's how I feel and I don't think I can ever stop loving you. Miggy, I really wish you the best and really hope she makes you happy. That's basically all I wanted to say, so I guess see you around Miggy."

He opened his mouth, but then closed it and gave me a small sad smile. " See you around Y/n/n." he whispered

I gave him one more glance before heading to the direction I parked.

Miguel's POV

All I could do was watch her walk away. I know what I did was wrong and I wish I could take everything back, but I have to suffer the consequences. Once her car left my site I gently closed the door and put my head against it.

" Oh Miggy, everything will get better I promise." I heard my mom say. I then turned to lean into her warm embrace. " Thanks mom." I whispered into her shoulder

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you all love this one. I know I do, I think it's definitely different and I'm proud of it. Again I really hope it's not confusing.

-Samantha

[something-tofightfor]

Firelight

Pairing: Sam Adams x Reader

Word Count: 4107

Rating: M; there’s some suggestion when it comes to relations with your husband, but it’s pretty tame. 

Summary: Snowed in with Sam Adams. That’s it. That’s the plot. 

Author’s Note: Takes place in the Rebel in Love universe, and as always is for Mrs. Adams - none other than @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​.

Ask me to add or remove you from any portion of this tag list at ANY time. Please. 

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@the-blind-assassin-12 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @obscurilicious @sweetybuzz25 @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @gollyderek @poindexted @ificouldhelpyouforget @elanor-of-imladris @thesandbeneathmytoes @luminex3 @geeksareunique @weallhaveadestiny @mfackenthal @thesumofmychoices @yannii04 @beautiful-thinking @drinix​ @agentlingerie  @blah-blah-fuckit-shit​  @dreams-with-thoughts​  @wangmangagavroche​ @traeumerinwitzhelden​ @jigsawlover10​ @malionnes​

Sam Adams:

@damalseer​ @chibiyanai​

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The weather had turned drastically overnight; your yard was completely covered in a thin layer of white flakes, the shutters on the windows frozen in position. Sam had been out to the barn early that morning with Rogue and Tory, giving the dogs a chance to sprint around the yard while he tended to the two horses and few chickens you kept, but even he had complained as soon as he reentered the house, black monmouth hat pulled low to cover his ears and a thick scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face, letting a large armful of wood clatter to the floor next to the back door. “That wind,” he groaned, shaking his head as he unfastened his cloak after pulling off the woolen gloves that covered his hands. “It’s changed, this is going to be a bad storm.” You were standing in front of the stove, stirring a pot of beans and waiting for bread to finish baking, but you put the spoon down, turning to face your husband as he spoke. 

 “Abigial said -” You bit back a smile as he pulled his hat off, hair sticking out in a few places before he could run his fingers through it to tame it. “She said that she believes it’ll pass quickly, just a day or two, and -”

 “I’ve got news for her… and for you,” Sam said as he stepped toward you, unwinding the scarf. One eyebrow was raised as he lifted his hand to point at the window above the sink. “This isn’t going to be gone in a day.” He shook his head. “Probably not even two days.” Sam was only a few steps away from you, one finger still pointing at the window. “Maybe not even three.” You watched as a gleam entered his eyes, though he never lost focus on you. “I think we’re going to be snowed in, Mrs. Adams.” He wound an arm around your waist, lowering his head to kiss you, the still-chilled surface of his lips surprising you - but not enough for you to pull back. 

 “It is cold out, Sam.” You sighed, turning your head so that you could press your cheek against his chest. “Do you have to go back out?” Both of his arms went around you, and neither of you spoke for a few moments, listening to the wind whip around the edges of the house and the sounds of the dogs from the adjacent room. 

 “No, I made sure the animals had extra feed, so I won’t have to go back out until tomorrow.” He pulled away from you, looking around the room, and let his eyes land on the stove. “Do we have -”

 “We do.” Unwillingly, you turned and stepped away from your husband, walking back over to the stove and picking up the long-handled spoon. “I went into the city yesterday for supplies, while you met with John and the other men. That’s where I spoke with Abigail.” Sam stepped behind you, hands settling in at your waist, and you continued to stir - and to talk.  “Even if this storm lasts for a week, Samuel Adams, I promise you I won’t let you starve.” He laughed quietly, lips close to your ear and his words sending a different type of chill throughout your body. 

 “Are you prepared to keep that promise?” He kissed you, hands squeezing gently and then stepped away. “I brought extra firewood up to the house, too, so I promise you that you won’t freeze to death.” Grinning at the pot of beans and giving it one final stir, you cleared your throat. 

 “Good. But I’d rather you keep me warm, anyway.” He whistled and said your name under his breath, walking toward the doorway and into the front room, where you knew that he’d settle into his favorite chair with a book, waiting for the meal to be done. 

 “You’re feeling very bold today, aren’t you?” His voice carrying back to you, the tone made you laugh. But you knew that he was teasing you, and despite the fact that it had been years since you’d experienced a true Boston blizzard, you looked forward to the quiet that would come with the storm, even though it was likely to be unpredictable. No one would call on you, no one would expect you to be anywhere, no one would bother you or your husband. It’s about damn time. 

 --- 

 Throughout the day, though it remained light enough for you to watch the storm through the windows of your home, you knew that Sam was right. The wind continued and the snowfall intensified, coating the ground in a thick white blanket. While it was still light out, you pulled extra quilts out of one of the chests you’d brought from your childhood home, spreading them over the bed in preparation for that evening. Sam offered to help, following you up the stairs, and you accepted, wanting to finish quickly in order to have free time to read before bed. 

 By the time the two of you were ready to sleep - the dogs let out the back door, both of them doing their business and returning to you in record time - there was nearly a foot of snow, the drifts higher against the sides of the barn and the back of the house. Sam lit the lantern in the kitchen, telling both dogs to stay, and then followed you closely up the stairway holding it high, the light from it splashing against the walls. The air in your bedroom was chilly, but Sam still waited until you’d changed clothes, replacing your dress with a thick pair of knit stockings and a clumsily knitted sweater that had been meant for him to pull the chair to the center of the room, just beyond the foot of the bed. You smiled at him, bracing yourself with one hand on his shoulder and climbed onto the chair, Sam’s hands firmly holding your thighs to steady them. “Careful.” He spoke quietly, reaching over to the tabletop for the lantern before passing it up to you. 

 This happened nightly - you used the lantern to light the candle that was enclosed in glass and hanging from the ceiling, Sam supervising to make sure that you didn’t fall from the chair. Though the lantern itself was brighter, neither of you wanted to waste the fuel, and candles were a simpler solution; the melting wax collecting in a second jar beneath the first, able to be reused. You and Sam enjoyed the candlelight bouncing off of the ceiling and walls, creating patterns that filled the room with a soft glow. You’d been worried about the safety of it - an open flame, burning all night while you slept - but Sam assured you that it was safe as could be, the glass keeping the flame from escaping, the hot wax unable to cause harm to anything other than the floor if it dripped. So you’d started lighting it before bed, using the tiny flame for a few extra minutes (or hours, in some cases) of time to watch each other as you laid in bed, waiting for sleep. 

 It had become a ritual for you - but you only lit the candle on nights when Sam was home and with you - the nights when he was in Philadelphia or traveling to other cities, you slept in the dark, relying on the comfort that both dogs, curled against each other on the small rug in the corner, provided to you. “It might not make it through the night, Sam.” You handed him the lantern, waiting until he’d put it into place on the dresser and extinguished it before climbing back down, his arm firmly around your waist the moment your feet hit the ground. “It’s very drafty up there.” He smiled at you - a wide one that rounded his cheeks - and shrugged before using his chin to gesture toward the bed. 

 “Won’t matter. We’ll both be under the covers all night tonight.” He raised a hand to touch your cheek, the smile still on his face. “Just need it for a few minutes.” You ducked your head, nodding, and as you and Sam moved to opposite sides of the bed, pulling the blankets back only enough to climb in. Even without discussing it, both of you ended up with the same number of blankets atop you, bodies seeking each other out in the semi-darkness. “Are you cold?” He spoke with his face nestled against you from behind, one arm wrapped around you and his knees bent to match yours - keeping you as close as possible. 

 “No, not right now, Sam.” You sighed happily, and even though you could feel the chill on your cheeks, you were comfortable. “I love you.” He replied with the same and you turned your head slowly toward him, hoping for another kiss before sleep claimed you. You got your wish, his lips meeting yours for long moments before you separated and settled against the pillows, both of you falling asleep to the sound of the wind - and the steady drumming of each others’ heartbeats. 

 --- 

That was the first night. The candle had still been burning when you woke up because of the howling wind just a few hours after falling asleep, but after blinking slowly at the tiny, dancing flame a few times, you’d simply pulled a blanket over your head and then turned your body to face Sam’s, moving closer to him before falling back asleep. It had been burned out when both of you woke in the morning, slow moving but well rested, stepping in front of the window with blankets wrapped around your shoulders. “Told you.” He spoke quietly, nudging you with his arm. “Still snowing.” 

 It was - and it was snowing hard, the flakes large and heavy. Not bothering to change from your stockings and sweater because you wouldn’t be leaving or seeing anyone, you followed your husband down the stairs, carefully tending to the fire in the kitchen stove as well as the large fireplace in the living room to bring some warmth back into the house. While he let the dogs out and went to check on the horses, you prepared breakfast, holding your hands over the kettle as it heated, waiting for warmth. Sam came back, carrying more wood, but although you heard it being set down against the back wall of the house, he didn’t come in - and you realized that he’d gone back to the woodpile. Makes sense. Your husband was a lot of things, but in the few years that you’d known him, he’d become much more practical and prepared, settling into the new life that he’d chosen for himself a little at a time. You grounded him, you knew, giving him something to focus on that had nothing to do with politics, but it was more than that, too. Sam had always lived for others - though he made decisions that seemed selfish on the surface, someone else always seemed to benefit in the end from Sam’s choices, and it was one of the things you first admired about him. That and his damn smile. He was still somewhat rebellious, still focused on his own desires at times, willing to skirt tradition and look past what was acceptable to get the job done, but that was your Sam, and if it hadn’t been the case, you would have been worried. 

 By the time Sam reentered the house, you had his meal waiting at the table and the two of you ate quietly, Sam filling you in on the status of the animals, the amount of snow outside and his general disdain for winter weather and the cold. You listened with a smile on your face, hands clasped around your oversized teacup, and that quickly became your routine as the storm raged on around you. Sam would care for the animals and you the house, but you frequently made time for each other, too. 

 By day four, when you’d only had one respite from the weather that had lasted a few hours, you and Sam were growing restless, confined within the walls of your home. You’d used the time between squalls to join him outside for some fresh air, you tending to the animals while Sam quickly cleared a path from the house to the barn and  the woodpile, making it simpler for him to get between locations when necessary. You’d played cards, read to each other, worked on sewing - you and Sam had spent hours talking, learning more about each other than you ever thought possible after nearly two years of marriage. But you’d also found out that unfortunately, the roof on the upper floor of the house was leaking, rendering your bedroom useless until the weather cleared and Sam could climb atop the roof to fix it. “Storm probably knocked some shingles loose,” Sam mused as he stood on the bed in his socks, fingers trailing over the ceiling. “We can’t sleep here, we’ll get wet.” He glanced down, frowning. “The mattress is already damp.” 

 With difficulty, you and Sam unmade the bed, pulling the mattress from the frame to lean it against the wall and carrying the blankets and pillows down the stairs. Your sofa was large enough for both you and Sam to sit on, but you realized that with the addition of the extra blankets and quilts, it would be next to impossible for both of you to sleep on it, no matter how close you were. “You’re very tall, Samuel Adams.” You sighed as you leaned against his body, one arm wrapped around his neck to trail your fingers through his hair, the fire crackling a few feet in front of you. “You take up a lot of space on the furniture.” He laughed at that, but you knew that he was thinking hard about where you’d sleep, too. 

 The floor in front of the fireplace seemed like the best option, though you both knew it would be cold and uncomfortable, even wrapped up in each other. “We … I  could drag the mattress from the bed down the stairs, the heat from the fire might just help it dry out, and then… we wouldn’t need to leave these two rooms until the storm breaks.” It was a good solution, and you told him as much, but when you also told him that you didn’t want to cause him trouble, and that you thought you could make yourselves comfortable with just the quilts and blankets, he took your face in his hands, shaking his head. “My wife won’t be sleeping on the floor in her own home.” He leaned in, kissing you on the mouth and then on the cheek before trailing his lips up to your temple, taking a deep breath. “What kind of man would allow that?” Not you, Sam Adams. 

 So you’d compromised; Sam allowing you to pull the sofa and chair out of the way, clearing a space in front of the fireplace large enough for the mattress while he went back upstairs to get it. You’d seen Sam in many ways - dressed to impress other members of Congress, speaking animatedly in front of large groups of people, relaxed with his friends and family members, drunk in the tavern… but you’d never seen him as frustrated as he was while trying to drag the overstuffed feather mattress down the narrow stairwell. Lips pressed together to conceal your laughter, you stood in the kitchen doorway - well out of the way, one hand on each of the dogs’ collars to keep them from running to investigate. Oh, Sam. 

 He swore loudly, cursing the mattress, cursing the staircase, cursing himself for having the idea in the first place, and when you saw the edge of the thick mattress peeking through the wooden railing’s posts, you couldn’t stand idle any longer, using your most commanding voice on the dogs to order them to stay in place before crossing the room. Standing at the bottom of the staircase, you bent over and looked up the steps, seeing Sam sitting on the top step, chin in his hands and his sock-covered foot halfheartedly kicking at the end of the mattress closest to him. “Would you like some help, Sam?” He wrinkled his nose, sighing. “It will be easier if I pull from this end, and -”

 “Yes. Please.” You were surprised that he’d agreed so quickly, but instead of letting it stop you, you grinned up at him, nodding, and grabbed the material with both hands. It only took a few tugs and some leverage courtesy of your husband’s legs before the overstuffed mattress slid down the stairs and onto the wooden floor of your main room, Sam following quickly. “Thank you.” He helped you drag it in front of the fireplace, ensuring that the placement was close enough to the opening so that you could feel the heat, but far enough that wayward embers wouldn’t scorch anything - including you - and you piled the sheets and blankets onto it, already looking forward to the end of the day, when you and Sam could climb into bed together. 

 After the dogs had been let out one final time and the kitchen stove turned down for the night, Sam turned to you, a gleam in his eye. “What are you thinking, Samuel?” You were perched on your favorite chair, a blanket tucked around you and a cup of tea in your hands, but at the expression on his face, you set it down on the table next to you, leaning forward. “I know that look.” And you did - it was the look he gave you when he wanted something, when he had an idea in his head that couldn’t be dissuaded. 

 “We’ll be much warmer tonight.” You nodded, head tilted to the side. “And we’ll have more light than usual.” You nodded again, biting down on the inside of your cheek. I know where this is headed. “And it’s like we’ve got our -”

 “Samuel Adams, are you saying that you want to -”

 “Yes.” He didn’t let you finish speaking, crossing the room and putting his hands on the arms of the chair you sat in, leaning in so that his face was close to yours, eyes wide and eager. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He kissed you, the movement taking you by surprise, but you kissed him back, eyes closing and a sigh escaping your lips as you heard the wooden arms of the chair creak beneath his grip. “We won’t be interrupted. We won’t be rushed. We won’t be… chilled…” He bit down on your lower lip before pulling back so that you could look into his eyes again. “And you did say that you’d rather I keep you warm than the fire, right?” All you could do was nod, heart rate increasing by the second. “Well, tonight you’ll get both.”

 You had to admit that the upper floor of the house was quite cold, and even though it was still early, the room you were in seemed to be a great deal warmer than your bedroom had been, even with the fire smaller than usual. “Alright.” You nodded, uncovering one arm to reach up for him, fingers closing around the loose-hanging material of his shirt. “That sounds satisfactory, Sam.” He looked surprised at your choice of words, but when you winked at him, he laughed out loud, straightening up and turning away from you, hands pulling away from the chair. 

 There was no candle to light that night - no chair that needed to be pulled out for balance. There was no rush to get into bed and under the covers in order to stay warm, and there was no mind paid to the storm that continued to rage on the other side of the walls just a few feet away from you. Instead, Sam’s hands wandered your body, ridding you of the warm clothing that you wore piece by piece, his eyes drinking you in by the firelight before he allowed you to return the favor. 

 Maybe it was the proximity to the fire that kept you warm that night, or perhaps it was the attention paid to you by your husband - hands and mouth and words meant for only you to hear, declarations made in the flickering light that you’d already heard hundreds of times but would never tire of. Whatever the actual answer was, you didn’t care, because all that mattered was you and Sam and how you felt about each other, especially in private. “I need to add a log or two to the fire.” His words gravelly, Sam spoke into your ear, pausing the journey of his fingers against your back. “If we’re going to stay warm…” You groaned, nodding as you pulled away from him and gathered the quilt against your chest. “Be right back.” Sam sat up, pulling a separate quilt around himself before he stood, pale legs peeking out from beneath the bottom of it as he disappeared into the kitchen and to the small woodpile you knew was next to the back door. 

 As you propped yourself up on one elbow, you smiled at the sound of the low whimpers of one of the dogs - likely Tory - and the quiet response by Sam, who reappeared in the doorway with a few pieces of wood in his arms. “Did Tory wake up?” He nodded and you saw a tiny smile on his lips before he knelt in front of the fire, carefully placing two of the logs so that they’d catch. “Those should burn for a few hours, plenty of time for us to sleep.” He looked back over his shoulder at you, and even in the low light, you saw the look in his eyes, heart rate increasing almost immediately. 

 “You’re ready for sleep?” Logs in place, Sam spun around to face you, letting go of the quilt with one hand, the material falling away to expose some of his chest, which drew your gaze. “If that’s what you want, I -”

 “No.” You shook your head, using one hand to pat the space next to you that Sam had occupied. “I was just trying to be polite and considerate of you.” He laughed, climbing back onto the mattress next to you and covering both of you with the quilt he’d been wearing, resting his weight against your upper half, nose rubbing against your cheek. “But I’m suddenly wide awake.” 

 “Good.” He kissed your jaw, lingering there for a few seconds before moving lower, lips skating over the skin of your throat and then against your chest, just above your heart. “Because what I’m thinking about right now requires you to be wide awake… and it’s not at all polite.” Gasping out his name as he bit down on your skin, your hands went into Sam’s hair, body turning toward his. We should have moved the bed down here the first night. When he pulled back to breathe, you said his name quietly, drawing his attention as you pulled your hands away from his head. Staring up at your husband as long, twisted locks of his hair hung in his face, you couldn’t help smiling. “What? Hmm?” 

 “We should…” You cleared your throat sighing. “We should build our next home with a fireplace in the bedroom.” You paused, your hand moving between your bodies, short nails dragging against his skin. “I could get used to this.” He widened his eyes but you could tell that he liked the idea, his head descending back toward you so that he could kiss you again, even as he maneuvered himself on top of you, hip to hip… for the most part. Sam’s kiss was slow, igniting a fire in you second by second, and even as he teased your lips apart with his tongue, you were focused on his patience, on the way he gave all of his attention to you. 

 Touches slow and deliberate, you and Sam spent the next hour entwined with each other, bodies illuminated in the warm glow of the firelight. When you finally parted, Sam rolling onto his back and pulling you to his chest, you knew that you’d never smell a burning log again without thinking of your husband or the way he touched you. How has it taken us this long to...? “A fireplace in the bedroom is a necessity now.” He sighed, linking his fingers with yours and squeezing, both hands resting high on his chest. “I’m already used to this.” 

---

[theoceanswaves0]

SPOILERS AHOY (ISH)

It’s been like four years since I did a post like this, so here’s me dumping my thoughts on various, random things I’ve been into/thinking about lately.

I’ll be covering Miraculous Ladybug S3, Fire Emblem Three Houses, My Hero Academia, The MCU, Chocolate/Zen: Warrior Within, Pokemon SwSh, Victorious, BtVS/Angel, and Star Wars: RoS so just a warning for potential spoilers. Also, there will be salt and gushing, so proceed with caution.

Victorious

--> Ok, so this show came out when I was already in high school, so I think some of my opinions and takes on the show are going to contrast with the general consensus.

--> But I’m firmly in the pro-Tori Vega camp. Do I agree with her kissing Beck in the pilot? No. But considering that Jade humiliated her in front of her class for a small misunderstanding that could have been easily cleared up if Jade took five seconds to hear Tori out, I find it difficult to feel bad for Jade. Plus, Tori gets called out for this a couple of times in later episodes anyway. 

--> As for Cat’s BF, yeah, that was shitty too but A. He was originally Tori’s BF and they only broke up a year prior to the episode and B. Not only does Tori feel immediate remorse for what she does (spraying Cat with cheese and then kissing her bf in front of her), but she apologizes and never does anything like it again for the rest of the show. BTW, these are both season one incidents, so clearly Tori grows out of this.

--> Plus, I can relate to some of Tori’s awkward traits, like being kind of annoying, not having the best verbal comebacks and feeling pretty average.

--> On the other hand, I can’t stand Jade. Her attitude reminds me of a girl I used to be on and off friends with in middle school. She ended up embarrassing me in front of the cast of our fall play in eighth grade and never apologized for it. Plus she would say or do things that, in hindsight, made it clear she didn’t want me around.

--> But I mean, at least that girl didn’t steal a pint of my blood meant to be used in a mutual friend’s operation, so...

--> Although clearly, Rex the Puppet is the worst character on this show. Jade at least does stuff, why do we need to have Rex around...?

--> My ships are Tandre (Tori/Andre) and Catrina (Cat/Trina)! Tori and Andre always look like they have fun performing together or just hanging out, and their friendship is just so precious. I wish Cat and Trina had more scenes together, because I loved their road trip in “Tori the Zombie” and they’re both dysfunctional in their own ways, but trying their best!! 

BtVS/Angel

--> Nothing new really. But my Tandre feels reminded me how much I also loved Gunn/Fred and wished that they stayed together. Even their ship name, Funn, is precious and gahhhhhhh breaking them up was a mistake!

My Hero Academia

--> It took me like 3-4 years after watching the first episode, but I finally watched it.

--> I’m surprised by how much I really like Izuku. Like, I normally like the protagonist fine, but Izuku just really stood out to me. He’s socially awkward, but in a pretty understandable way, intelligent and passionate without using any of it to put other people down, and ofc he cares about his friends and saving other people because what shonen protagonist doesn’t? The only thing I don’t like about him is his hero worship of Bakugo, but that’s just my bias.

--> Oh, yeah, I don’t like Bakugo. 

--> Relating to Aizawa the most, and realizing that it’s because I’m getting older hukjdshfaskdnfj 

--> I don’t have a ship I’m the most invested in, but I like Izuku with both Todoroki and Uraraka, and I also like Uraraka with Tsuyu. Erasermic is also really good.

--> Not a fan of Eraserjoke. I don’t like the way she continues to ask Aizawa out and then plays it off as a joke when he rejects her like. Like, it’s such a high school thing to do, it’s so weird seeing two grown adults do it. Just take the L and move on, Ms. Joke. Not only is it creepy to continue asking someone out when they say no, it’s annoying to pretend that you didn’t really mean it because it makes it difficult to read you in future scenarios. 

Fire Emblem Three Houses

--> Love it love it love it.

--> Like Fire Emblem has always been more of my brother’s thing, but with Awakening, Fates and Three Houses introducing easier difficulty options, I’ve found it much easier to get into the series. Like, I’m a pretty casual gamer so I’m not looking for anything too challenging most of the time.

--> Ofc I knew going in I was picking Golden Deer, and I was not disappointed. I love everyone every single student in there. The atmosphere was so chaotic, that I just knew recruiting everyone that I could to make it more so just had to be done.

--> Claude and Hilda are the best lord and “retainer” respectively, don’t @ me.

MCU

--> Uh, I haven’t really kept up with MCU stuff since Endgame (which I didn’t care for tbh). I just wanted to remind everyone that I hate Tony Stark :)

Miraculous Ladybug S3

(me @ this entire season tbh)

--> I don’t really post much about ML on this blog anymore because I ended up making a side blog (for salt mostly tbh). But in case anyone doesn’t keep up with what happens over there, I basically hated this entire season lol.

--> Ok, I loved Silencer. Best episode in the season period, no questions asked. I also really liked Kwamibuster and Startrain. Desperada grew on me over time, while Bakerix was... okay, I guess. And Felix was entertaining, even if I felt that the message that they were trying to get across was forced and meant to shut the fandom up. Oblivio was good until that ending, and once Silencer came along, I quickly learned I had no use for it anyway. It being an amnesia episode did it no favors, either.

--> Just as I feared, the season revolved more around humiliating or putting Marinette in really embarrassing situations for the same of “drama”. The Puppeteer 2 is a really good example of this. And it’s upsetting, because none of this actually does anything for Marinette’s character. She’s not even allowed to breakdown or be upset about anything that goes wrong for her until the end of “Heart Hunter” and even that only lasts, like, ten seconds.

--> Also, I don’t ship the Love Square anymore. Lukanette all the way, baby.

--> Let’s be real, Marinette/Happiness should be the real OTP of the show.

--> The fact that every episode of season 4 is supposed to be as dramatic as Chat Blanc does not leave me hopeful for the future. Like, really, you’re going to use an episode in which an entire timeline’s worth of events gets erased and leaves everyone with no memories of it as the basis of your emotional impact going forward? Um, thank you, next.

Rise of Skywalker

--> Haven’t seen it and after seeing the spoilers, I don’t plan to. I really liked TFA, and was excited to see what they did with the Rey-Poe-Finn dynamic. I was not here for Kylo Ren or Reylo. I guess Finn/Rey is joining Tandre and Funn in my “missed opportunity OTPs” corner. D:

Chocolate/Zen: Warrior Within

--> OMG one of my fave movies of all time. Like I appreciate it more and more with age. It’s basically everything I want in a movie.

--> The scene where Zen discovers that her mom’s hair is falling out and she blames herself for it always gets me. Like I always forget about it, so when I see it again, I can’t help but nearly breakdown myself, because I know exactly what Zen’s thought process is without her even having to say anything. I feel just as overwhelmed as she does in the moment and nearly cry every time watching it.

--> One of the few movies that I wish actually got a sequel. Like I have so many questions that could be answered. How do Zen and Moom adjust to living in Japan? How does Zen’s father try to relate to her and Moom? Do they make any other friends? Will Zen get access to resources that will help her? Will they be further ostracized because of their status as outsiders? As someone who already struggles verbally, how will Zen adapt to living in a country that primarily speaks another language? 

Pokemon SwSh

--> Multiplayer is so much fun and wayyyy more accessible than in the past imo. A bunch of people at my martial arts school would do raid battles before classes, so I would always leave to get there early and play with them. 10/10 experience, and it makes me excited to get Animal Crosssing to do the same thing.

--> But on the other hand, I feel like this game has a lot less going for it than SuMo. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it feels like too much is missing. Like I still enjoy it, but it’s more for the gameplay and less for the story. I’m also not nearly as invested in my team like I was last time (I loved my Sun team so much, I basically kept it the same for US, minus one or two changes). I’m trying to change it fits a “Psychedelic Ocean” vibe (Water/Psychic), and then do an “Earth” themed team for my Shield run but I just haven’t picked it back up since beating the game.

--> The characters were alright. I wasn’t as attached to any of the rivals like I was in SuMo. Leon is my bro though.

[beanplague-moved]

my @aphsecretsanta gift for @reyeslala! happy slightly belated holidays, i’m not sure I captured the best of them here—i have a kind of particular characterization of bela and i’ve never written spain extensively until this project, but i had a lot of fun. i kinda pictured him as a very fumbling romantic.

all that aside, i really hope you enjoy it! i tried to touch on all the prompts without being heavyhanded, and there’s unrequited lietbel in there for the sake of a sort of compare/contrast thing.

read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13198962

There’s some kid sitting at Natalya’s bus stop. She tries not to pay him any mind, but he’s just so happy. It’s incredibly distressing.

Natalya has been taking this same bus to work almost every day for the last five years or so, and she has never encountered this unfamiliar entity. He sits at the other end of the bench, humming contentedly—probably to some music playing over his headphones, it sounds far too cheery for Natalya’s taste—as he waits for the bus.

Natalya tries not to pay him any mind. He probably won’t be here tomorrow, anyway.

He’s there tomorrow. And the day after that.

He’s becoming quite the regular to public transport, and Natalya would usually assume that two or three days of taking the bus and likely the subway would chase away any semblance of joy related to the experience. Yet still, he keeps on smiling when sitting at the stop.

He waves at Natalya when she arrives at the stop today, and she raises her eyebrows at him.

She takes a good look at this kid. He’s relatively normal looking. He doesn’t seem to be a rampant serial killer, though Natalya isn’t known for her ability to read others.

(That might be evidenced by the fact that she believes one must be a serial killer to enjoy riding the bus, or wave to strangers.)

He isn’t bad looking—he’s kind of cute, in an objective sense. Natalya thinks he’s a bit too handsome for her taste. All her partners in the past have had pretty obvious flaws, which Natalya appreciated. This guy seems a bit too unreal for her. Sun-kissed skin and messy but not too messy hair. He’s like someone lifted directly from a magazine her sister might’ve read when they were younger.

He wears an apron, so Natalya assumes he’s heading to a workplace of some kind. Probably a Starbucks or something. He’s been wearing the same headphones since his first day at the bus stop.

Natalya figures he’s a new regular, and pays him no mind. If he wants to be disproportionately happy with public transportation, who is she to stop him?

He says, “hi!” when Natalya passes him on an early morning. It isn’t the best decision he could’ve made. Natalya has barely slept for the past few days.

There’s this meeting coming up, and Natalya’s boss—who she would usually describe as, “an American asshole who’s never known hardship a day in his life,” but for the sake of her sanity, she refers to as Mr. Jones—says she’s up for a promotion. So all this weekend she’s been preparing for this meeting, and she’s going to be preparing for it until the day it comes around, because like hell is she going to be here, riding the bus to work everyday, only so she can sit in a cubicle and file everyone else’s cases.

So yeah, she’s a bit on edge today, and she glares at the new bus regular. He looks confused—like he’s not sure what he’s done wrong, which, yeah, is to be expected—and then quickly tilts his head curiously at Natalya.

She keeps her chin up and ignores him. There’s no point in caring about how a stranger might perceive her. Hell, Natalya barely cares about how people she knows and talks to regularly perceive her.

Natalya looks like shit, and she realizes it as soon as she gets home and looks in the mirror. Her eyes are sunken and tired-looking. Her hair is a mess.

She has a face that was often described as delicate when she was younger. Fair-skinned and free of blemishes. Long, shining blonde hair and simple, thin features. Nowadays she does little to keep up that image. Fuck that, she’d rather be this than continue that reputation of some angelic, perfectly kept young lady.

It is better to be unbroken than it is to be fragile. It is better to be rough around the edges and clearly visible than it is to be blurry, hard to comprehend. And she’d do anything nowadays to prevent that softness from creeping into her.

Her hardness is an immunity to the outside world and its effects. If there is one chink in her armor, it flies by unnoticed, because the world can’t attack Natalya. No one can.

It’s best, that way.

That same guy who’s been riding her bus everyday stands up when Natalya approaches the stop, and honest to God, he bows.

He bows, and holds out a hand to her. Natalya raises an eyebrow. She’s almost entirely sure that they’re at a bus stop in Queens, not some kind of renaissance faire where it's commonly accepted that one bows to those they’ve wronged.

She should be clear, it’s not a full on bow. He doesn’t bend at the waist and declare his subservience. Nor does he fall to the knee at the sight of her. He simply lowers himself a bit and holds out a hand.

“I, uh,” He laughs, “I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to do this. I’m sorry?” He tries, and he keeps talking, “I said hi to you when you came to the stop the other day, but you kind of glared at me, and that got me thinking, is it not protocol to say hi to people here? And then I started overthinking and I wanted to apologize, if you’d let me.”

Natalya is a little bit shorter than him. She glances at his green apron to see that his name tag says Antonio C. She glances back up at his hopeful eyes, and denying his apology now would be kind of a cheap shot, like kicking a sick puppy or something.

She shrugs, “It doesn’t matter,” She says, “I’ve been having a bad week, you’re a stranger. Seemed an easy solution.” She speaks in the same level tone that she always does.

“Ah, okay,” He seems sort of relieved, still sort of confused, “thank you, miss…?”

“It doesn’t matter,” She repeats.

“Miss It Doesn’t Matter, then,” He smiles, and Natalya isn’t the best at reading people, but he sounds amused, “I’m looking forward to riding the same bus with you.”

“You shouldn't be.” She says, deadpan. “I’m not.”

It’s quiet from then on, but the silence is less confrontational. Maybe that’s an improvement.

At work, there’s this guy. He likes Natalya, and it’s all very sweet aside from the fact that she couldn’t be bothered to feign interest in him.

Toris is nice—far too nice, in Natalya’s opinion. One really should use discretion with those they are kind to—and he isn’t bad looking. Quite the opposite, but he isn’t Natalya’s type. Not even Natalya really knows what “Natalya’s type” is.

He stutters when he talks to her and smiles when he thinks of her, and it’s nice. It’s nice to be liked by someone, she can admit that much, but aside from the ego-boost, it does little for her. She avoids him, most of the time.

“Ms. Arlovskaya,” He refers to her, and he goes pink in the face when she looks at him, “I have some cases you should look over.”

“Toris,” She returns, and he hands her the files, and it’s over. Natalya thinks little of the interaction, because she thinks little of Toris.

Antonio thinks of Natalya as a friend, or so it seems. He smiles when he sees her and he exudes this warmth that just gets warmer when she’s nearby. She thinks, maybe, in a way, he might like her. More than other people do, anyway. It feels good, being liked by Antonio. It makes her question what “her type” might be.

“Miss It Doesn’t Matter,” Antonio greets her at the bus stop. It’s a Friday, today, and he’s been greeting her like this all week, “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Did you hear something?” She says to no one, “I swear, there’s something insignificant flying near my ears, making noises,” She pauses dramatically, and there’s this primal amusement that’s hard to suppress, “Oh, it’s just you.” She turns to Antonio.

“Very funny,” He smiles, and she thinks he means it. It’s kind of weird, how genuine he is. Natalya can’t imagine being so happy in public, but she is smiling a bit when she talks to him.

The non-confrontational silence is getting very friendly as of late, and Natalya thinks more about it. She’s been thinking a lot more about Antonio, lately.

Natalya’s sister wants to visit. Natalya’s boss wants her to do some overtime shifts. Natalya’s brother wants her to come home for the holidays. Natalya’s friends—if she had any—would probably want to steal her time if they could.

Natalya takes her boss’s offer. It’s the best decision, if she wants that promotion.

Antonio thinks Natalya looks very unhappy lately.

“You seem very independent. Are you a scorpio?” He asks, and Natalya raises an eyebrow. Their bus is late. “I’m an aquarius.”

“A virgo, actually.” She says, and she doubts he’d expect her to be superstitious. Still, she researches the signs, and so she asks, “I don’t see much of an aquarius in you.”

He looks surprised, and then a smile creeps onto his face and he scratches the back of his neck. “Well, you’d have to get to know me better.”

Natalya might like to get to know him better. Maybe.

It rains during her overtime shift, and it’s all very depressing, watching the rain hit the windows as it slowly gets darker, but she always packs an umbrella. She’ll be fine, if a little less motivated.

By the time she clocks out, it’s absolutely pouring outside. She catches the bus without a drop of rainwater on her. Her heavy utility umbrella is good for something, at least.

When she gets to her bus stop—the one she catches in the mornings and gets off at in the evening—she’s surprised to see Antonio there, shivering on the bench. He’s soaking wet.

He looks up at her, before smiling that stupid smile. “You might not believe it, but I didn’t actually know it was going to rain today.”

“I believe it.” Natalya says, holding her umbrella over her. It’s black, and it’s made for the rainiest of days. It kind of looks like she’s heading to a funeral, honestly.

He scratches the back of his neck and coughs, “I thought it’d be better to wait here so I could get dry before trying to walk back and get more, you know, soaked.”

“I see,” Natalya says, and that’s kind of the dumbest thing she’s ever heard. It’s cold out here. He’s certainly going to get a cold. “And how’s that working out?”

“Bad,” He’s still laughing. He’s so happy, all the time. It’s like it’s effortless for him, and Natalya has a lot of feelings geared towards that particular facet of his personality. They’re all very confusing emotions, most of the time.

(And when they aren’t confusing, they’re crystal clear. Envy and anger and frustration, but also a sort of hope that she’ll catch it from him one day.)

And Natalya analyzes the situation, and she’s completely dry save for her shoes, which are touching the wet pavement and are therefore getting wetter by the minute. Usually she’d hurry to her apartment to lessen the damage, but instead she contemplates her actions before handing him her umbrella.

“Pay it forward,” She says, and he looks up at her like she’s doing something very generous and very stupid. She agrees. “I’ll be fine.” He takes the umbrella silently, nodding at her.

She walks home in the pouring rain. It’s cold and annoying and she feels awful, but there’s something warm and unidentifiable in her chest that has grown slowly since she gave him the umbrella.

Whatever. She takes a hot shower and goes to bed in dry clothes. Sleep-wise, it’s one of the best nights she’s had in ages.

The morning greets Natalya with a particularly powerful case of the sniffles. Antonio greets her with the umbrella and a bouquet of flowers.

“I thought repayment might be in order,” He smiles, and there must be some dial inside of him that allows him to turn up the charm on a whim. Natalya certainly feels the effects of it. “Thank you, you did me a favor, Miss It Doesn’t Matter.”

“Natalya.” She says, and he tilts his head, “My name. It’s Natalya. You’ve been calling me by that nickname the whole time.”

“Natalya,” He says, testing the sounds in his mouth. “It suits you. I love it. Are you sick?”

A lot to take in there. Natalya focuses on the last one, “It’s only the sniffles, it’s fine.” She says, and he places the flowers and the umbrella on the bench.

“Can I take your hand? This works best if I get to hold your hand,” He says, and it’s kind of adorably kind that he asked, so Natalya says yes. He takes her hand, “You got sick on my behalf! I demand that I be able to right this past wrong, and take you out to lunch, if that’s okay.” He adds if that’s okay, and Natalya likes Antonio.

She likes that he makes her smile. She likes that silence with him is no longer confrontational. She likes that he respects her boundaries in every regard.

“Okay.” She says, and she doesn’t smile, but she hopes he can tell. He adds his number to his phone and saves himself as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo with a heart at the end.

She goes to the meeting and presents perfectly, and it’s boring as hell and it’s long as hell but at the end of it Mr. Jones announces that she’s due for a promotion, and Natalya takes that time to ask if she can get an extra hour added to her lunch.

Mr. Jones—Alfred, he tells her. He’d like it if she’d consider him a friend, but Natalya never could—is surprised. Natallya has never expressed a desire for added benefits, but he’s more than happy to give her this one. He tells her that, if she wants, she can be free for the day.

She texts Antonio to tell him she’s free for the rest of the day. He sends something back that is full of emojis and happy emoticons. He tells her to meet him at the bus stop.

She walks with little urgency, he arrives out of breath, like he ran to get there.

“I ran to get here,” He says, “I convinced my boss to let me out of there so I could hang out with a beautiful woman, and maybe get lunch.”

“You lied to your boss?” Natalya raises an eyebrow.

He grins, “Hardly.”

Lunch is nice, Antonio makes it better. Natalya isn’t in love with him or anything, but snow falls outside of the restaurant windows and Antonio makes a comment about the weather being all over the place lately and she wants to laugh even though it isn’t funny at all. He makes it funny, what with all his softness and all his happiness.

She thinks, in her heart of hearts, that she may have caught some of it.

[lliinnkk]

Love And Laughter - Dinner With A Skeleton

"Wow! Amazing! I-I wish I could d-draw like you!" Alphys exclaimed, staring in awe at the sight. "If you stick around long enough, you may even get to see the finished product as it's being made!" beamed Kirsty. "As much as I'd love Alphys to stay, she better not be too long; me and Kirsty are going-" Frisk said. Kirsty intervened at once, informing her that "it's not 'me and Kirsty'. It's Kirsty and I." "... Yeah. Right. Kirsty and I are going for dinner at the MTT Resort." "Yeah, I'm gettin' kinda bored, sitting around, watching Mettaton. Let's go home, Alphys. I'm gettin' hungry!" Undyne moaned, pulling her lizard lover out of the house. "Oh. I guess I don't really have a choice. B-bye, Kirsty! I hope I s-see you again soon!" Alphys yelled. "Bye, Alphys! Bye, Undyne!" shouted Kirsty, waving goodbye as the door closed with a bang.

"Alright, Ms Kirsty Poppy, we better get ready, 'cause we're not just going for dinner at the Mettaton Resort; we're going with Papyrus and Sans." said Frisk, pulling Kirsty onto her feet. "Oh, cool. I like Papyrus. He's really nice." smiled the girl, letting down her hair and brushing it thoroughly. "I'm glad you like him. You'll probably like Sans, too. He's real funny." the almost teen grinned. "Really? Cool! I like funny people." Kirsty commented. "Well, in that case, let's not waste time talking!"

Soon enough, the humans were in a more formal state, ready for dinner with skeletons. They smelled like lovely lavender, owned two sets each of pearly white gnashers and and had low, tied-back, brown hair.

Frisk took Kirsty through the snow, past several houses, to a nearby river. Hovering on the water was a small boat, just big enough for five people, and on it sat a hooded figure, who spoke, "Tralala. Where to today, humans?" "Hotlands, please." Frisk said, sitting on the boat with Kirsty. "Tralala. Hotlands it is then." the figure replied. The boat took off at a satisfactory speed, right away. "Hotlands?" asked Kirsty. "Yeah. There's the Ruins (where humans fall), Snowdin (where we live), Waterfall (where Undyne lives), Hotlands (where the MTT Resort is) and Tori's Castle (where the queen lives, of course). Hotlands is, obviously, very hot - so you might wanna take off that massive coat - and there lava - try not to fall in." Frisk explained, taking off Kirsty's winter coat. "Alright. Sounds fun."

Soft, tepid waves slowed to a stop as the boat ride shortly ended. Frisk and Kirsty climbed out and thanked the figure kindly. The abrupt change in atmosphere caught Kirsty off guard. She had gone from being so cold that her breath came out in great clouds of smoke like a dragon, shivering as she took each step and watching as she turned into Kirsty The Red-nosed Human to being so hot that she had the sudden urge to strip off completely - which she would have, had there not've been people strolling along the sweltering streets. Kirsty now started to sweat and she took off her GEEK jacket, tying it around her waist.

"Haha!" laughed Frisk. "I told you it was hot!" "I don't think I like this heat." the teen chuckled. "I hope it's not this hot in the resort." "Oh, nah. They're kind enough to have air conditioning." Frisk clarified, giggling happily as her friend breathed a sigh of relief.

The two of them walked along the rocky path, chatting about people and places, dodging the bursts and bubbles of lava that the pools shot at them, making their way towards the hotel - a large, blue building, which read 'MTT' above the glass door. Unprecedented changes in the air became frequent to Kirsty; she made a mental not to always expect the unexpected. The cool breeze from Snowdin had followed her to the resort like a dog to it's caring owner and this fact lifted their spirits (and their coats onto the trustworthy coat hanger near the entrance). Wet from the overflowing Mettaton fountain, the floor they danced over was a perfect, brilliant gold. The only thing terrible about the place was the staff; an orange cat cashier could be seen stealing money from the till, not even trying to be subtle or secretive about it.

Frisk took Kirsty to him, asking if he'd seen two skeletons pass through. He replied with, "Yeah. A tall one and a short one. You with them, little buddy?" "Yeah, we are. Thanks, BP." said Frisk, dragging Kirsty away. "Any time, little buddy." he nodded. "'BP'?" asked the teen. "It stands for Burger Pants. That's what everybody calls 'im. Don't ask why." Frisk chortled. "Well, what's his real name?" "Er... Dunno."

The restaurant had a stage at one wall and a multitude of round tables in a range of sizes. Neat tablecloths were thrown onto them, cutlery set out tidily, chairs tucked in, a single candle on every surface - 'This is certainly a place worth admiring.' thought Kirsty. "There they are!" Frisk pointed out. What with there being only a few people in the room and the monsters in question were having trouble with not standing out, there was really no need to point them out, 'but, whatever floats your boat, I guess.' shrugged Kirsty. "Hey, Papyrus! Hey, Sans!" There, right in front of the stage, sitting next to each other at a table for four, was Papyrus and his brother, Sans.

Papyrus was still in his 'battle body' - a red scarf, red gloves and red boots - a kind of formal outfit. His brother, on the other hand, was quite the opposite - everything-wise, apart from the fact that they're both skeletons, of course. Sans was short and wore a blue hoodie, a white sweater, a pair of black and white, striped shorts and sneakers. He leaned back in his chair, half-asleep, while Papyrus sat politely upright.

When they heard the humans coming, Papyrus waved excitedly. Sans lifted an eyelid, then the other. His eyes - if he had any - widened. "Papyrus," he whispered. "you said she was pretty, but I had no idea she was this...beautiful." "She is, isn't she? Quite a pretty picture." Papyrus nodded in agreement.

The humans took their seats at the table, Kirsty shuffling the cutlery about until she saw it fit her liking. She looked Sans up and down, deciding that he was just another person to add to the Crowd Of Gawping People. "Hello, humans!" grinned Papyrus. "I was wondering when you were going to come." "Sorry if we were late." Frisk apologised. "Actually, I think it was just that they were a bit early." explained Kirsty. "Ah." said Frisk. "Well, in that case, not sorry." "Oh... Um... I didn't... Okay." Kirsty stammered. "Hehe. It's okay. It was a joke, yeah?" said Frisk. "Uh... Yeah." replied Kirsty.

"So, anyway, Kirsty, this is Sans. Sans, this is Kirsty. She's the newest human, but you probably already knew that. Go ahead, Kirsty, shake his hand." urged Frisk, grinning at the skeleton. Sans offered the girl his hand, but she was quick enough to uncover the prank, pointing out a hidden whoopie cushion. "Heh. You're pretty observant, huh?" he laughed, stuffing the failed joke in his pocket and properly shaking her hand, forgetting to let go. "Thanks... Can I have my hand back now?" asked Kirsty, shyly. His grip was firm, yet kind. She almost enjoyed it. "What...? Er... Oh. Yeah, sure." Sans let go, faintly blushing. "Sans!" Papyrus hissed. "Don't embarrass yourself in front of the human! At least try to make a good first impression!" Sans shrugged, staring at his hand.

"Yeah, Sans is pretty good at the jokes. Do you know any good ones?" asked Frisk. "Um... Knock knock." said Kirsty. "Oh, God! Please, don't!" cried Papyrus. "Who's there?" Sans asked, ignoring Papyrus' begging. "To." Kirsty replied. "To who?" "No, it's 'to whom', actually." Frisk and Sans chuckled; Papyrus rolled his eyes, scowling. "That was a good one!" Frisk cheered. "I'm not as good at telling jokes as Sans is. Why don't you tell one?" "Uh... Erm... I..." stuttered Sans, at a loss for words.

However, before he could say anything, his younger brother called to a waiter and ordered the staff to surprise them. He said, crossing his arms, that he "just had to put an end to the disgusting topic", as it was making him more and more uncomfortable.

Papyrus and Frisk then began talking non-stop about food and the cooking lessons with Undyne. Apparently, Undyne and Frisk - but mostly Undyne - had set her whole house ablaze when they were cooking spaghetti together (turns out, the final product wasn't actually half bad). She then had to live with Papyrus and Sans until her house was put back together again. They had a lot of fun. At this point, Kirsty chose to switch off again. She allowed herself to daydream as she waited for an MTT Meal. The imaginative cogs in her brain whirred into motion, running as quick as a nice cube in Hell.

The images of future sleepovers with her future besties, Alphys and Frisk, roamed the vast complexity of her mind. They attacked each other with playful pillow fights, toyed with subjects not to be messed about with, roasted marshmallows over the fire in the lounge, played truth or dare, and talked about cute boys (or girls) they took an interest in, all whilst having a whale of a time - and whales do make some noise, so, of course, they did too. Bang! Slam! Boom! Clap! No one got rest on the nights they spent together (not even them). Was there any better way to have a sleepover with your possible BFFs? Ah, yes! Movies! Now this was a practically perfect party. And, if it wasn't, Kirsty was filled with perseverance to make sure it was.

As her mind wandered, so did her eyes - they, themselves, seemed to have a mind of their own. They drifted about the room, travelling from the ceiling to the floor, from the cutlery to the door, and from one person to the other. Soon, Kirsty found herself staring blankly at Sans, who sat opposite her, staring back. It felt as if they were having a staring contest, but neither really cared for winning. They stayed like this for almost a minute, before Kirsty managed to shake herself out of the magic spell, without stopping to wonder if their moment meant anything.

Frisk found Kirsty sitting on the cream sofa, looking into the fire in her pyjamas. The evening had gone smoothly. The food was delicious and she hadn't spoken much, but how could she when others kept babbling about somewhat unrelated subjects? Sans held her hand on the way to Snowdin, but she no one ever thought anything of it. Papyrus and Frisk held hands, so why couldn't they? Her hair was freely falling down her shoulders, her fringe persistent to veil her sleepy, emerald green eyes. She hugged her knees, mesmerised by the dancing flames, letting out a tired yawn as Frisk sat beside her.

"So, what do you think?" asked the twelve year old. "Of the Underground, I mean." "Good." Kirsty replied. "I'll explore it tomorrow. It seems interesting, all these different places. I bet there'll be different people there... They're all really different...really confident...not afraid to be who they are... That's my favourite part..."

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