#moments. but because he's only on my silly little screen i can also find him funny on occasion

[mixtapedoh]

the amazing, showstopping, incredible @musicallisto enables me daily <3333

for your consideration <3; you may now rest soundly in the knowledge that i am, in all things, correct.

[amazinglyashy]

hi hi~ i have a silly request if you're interested (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) can i request the lads men's (pre-relationship) reaction to the reader introducing them to their boyfriend? but plot twist... its a fictional virtual boyfriend! just like the game love and deepspace LOL who would get jealous? who would have beef with a fictional man?? /JK

PS: im not sure how to say this properly but u like, write them so attractively 😵 if that makes sense, like the little quirks u give them and the dialogue, whoo weeeee 100/10!

This made me laugh because I still remember introducing my bf to my Obey Me boyfriends and kept trying to figure out which one was the most like him so he could buy me merch of them and push his personal agenda. Sadly none of them are like him, but now that I play LDS, Rafayel sure is! Thank you for the request! I had fun with this one! (And oh my gosh, that's such a compliment!! Thank you so so much, it means a lot!!)

Pre-relationship LaDS men react to your fictional game partner

Rafayel -

Who would have beef with a fictional man?

Rafayel would have beef with a fictional man.

He did not wait centuries for you, searching high and low for his lost love in every dark alley and bad idea that came across him- to lose to a bunch of pixels on a tech screen.

Truthfully, he knows it's all in good fun, and he's not completely jealous. He's actually pretty glad you found a nice outlet that helps you with relieving stress from you day to day. He knows you need it.

He's just... going to be now competing secretly with a fictional figure.

He thinks its secret.

You know what he's doing.

Why else would he be asking you what the latest event is in your game with your fictional partner, and then miraculously a week later you're receiving the very same things or experiences in reality on your day off?

He's not slick at all, and honestly, you find it pretty endearing.

But also, something you won't ever consider- is maybe he's doing those things for you, not only to make you happy, but to show you just how much attention he pays to the things you tell him about.

That's okay.

You don't need to know that part.

Zayne -

Zayne is not at all threatened by whoever this 'Jumim Hen' guy is.

Yes he is mispronouncing it on purpose. No he will not correct himself until he's gotten enough humor out of it and frustrated you enough about it.

Once that happens, he'll start pronouncing it correctly and if confronted about his change in pronunciation, he will pretend you need a wellness check and request you make an appointment with his secretary.

Smooth way to spend more time with you while subtlety calling you crazy.

He mostly does just think it's cute, though.

He will buy you food from places that might be having game events that get you special merchandise or in-game prizes, even if you don't realize there's a surprise event happening because it wasn't advertised in your game.

No, he's not weird and expects you to stop playing once the two of you start dating. He realizes it's something you enjoy a lot, and he actually finds a lot of pleasure in listening to you ramble about situations that are happening in your game.

He finds most things you do endearing.

Sylus -

You're giggling over it, that's all the matters to him.

He is rubbing the bridge of his nose though, because you had been building up to this moment for over a week and he was convinced you were going to show him an actual psychopath or something and he was going to have to figure out a way to make the man disappear without you realizing it was Sylus's doing.

He probably won't make any vague comments about how your fictional boyfriend is strangely similar to himself and that maybe you have a type.

Probably.

(He will make one per day.)

(At least.)

Once you're dating him, he has some access to your device and the game, simply so that he can reload your currency whenever you go to sleep. He doesn't want you to run out, and he knows you love playing. What else is his money good for if not for making you smile?

Doesn't understand it, but he does make mental notes of your current progress in the storyline and which characters you like. But sometimes he'll pretend to forget an important detail.

He loves hearing you babble about anything, after all.

Xavier -

He was a bit confused at first, but figured out what was going on rather quickly.

He thinks it's adorable, like when he first found out how much you love claw machines and the plushies inside of them. He doesn't see it as much different- the love interests are your plushies in the game, and your fictional partner is your favorite "plushie".

Easy.

Xavier has lowkey cosplayed your game boyfriend at least once, acting innocent about it and as if it was completely unintentional.

If you're dating by then, he lets you 'borrow' the clothes, so now you have an article from your game, but it also smells like he does. He's only allowed them back once they lose their scent.

He only accepts gratitude and payment for the favor of wearing them again in the form of snuggling with him on the couch, his arms wrapped up around you as he nuzzles into your neck.

He needs your "help" for a little bit.

It's the least you can do.

[fairyhaos]

◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions

warnings: light swearing

summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.

It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek. 

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”

He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes. 

“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”

“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”

Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”

You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”

“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”

There’s a pause.

“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”

Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come. 

“You know me so well.”

“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not two in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.

“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”

───────────── 🌘

Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.

Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have. 

It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved. 

So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent. 

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.

But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.

“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face. 

It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs. 

“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”

“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”

“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”

“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow. 

“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”

You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”

“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”

It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you. 

He isn't. 

“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”

“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”

“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”

You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.

 Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile. 

“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”

Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself. 

He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you. 

“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.

Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.

“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.

“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”

“Um, lies.”

“No lies. You literally love me so much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”

Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.

“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”

“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”

“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.

And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.

Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.

It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.

“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”

There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.

“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.

You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.

Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.

It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.

More.

These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.

“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”

Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

[harrywavycurly]

The Almost Bumble Fumble: A Harry Styles One Shot

CW: None

Tag List: @georgiarose94

A/N: This is just some fun fluffy goodness that popped into my head the other day! I have a part 2 in mind if y’all want it? Enjoy!

Summary: Harry Styles shows up on your dating app and you’re convinced it’s not really him✨

Harry only has one reason why he finally caved and downloaded the bright yellow dating app, he likes the fact he can’t be the one to message anyone he matches with first. It takes some of the pressure off of him because it’s hard to think of an opening line that is catchy and engaging enough to actually make the other person respond, and while he may be a talented songwriter he is absolutely horrible at trying to be witty and flirty through a screen and over texts. So not having to worry about reaching out first allows him to just sit and wait to see if anyone is actually interested enough in him to send him a message and so far, much to his disappointment and only a slight blow to his ego he hasn’t gotten more than a few random hellos.

Even though he hasn’t gotten the kind of response he thought he would since he downloaded the app just a few days ago, he still finds himself checking it a few times a day and that’s exactly what he’s doing now as he gets comfortable on his couch with a glass of wine in his hand. He scrolls through a few profiles and doesn’t swipe right or hit the heart button on any of them until he lands on one that seems interesting. Your profile picture is of you grinning as you stare at a piece of what he thinks is cake that’s on a plate in front of you that has a candle in it, there’s a little caption under it that says “if you can make me smile the way this cake did, you’re a keeper” and he chuckles to himself as he continues further down your profile. The most important thing he likes to look at on people’s profile is what they’re looking for on the app, because Harry knows he’s ready for a relationship and he isn’t trying to have his time wasted nor waste anyone else’s if he knows they aren’t looking for the same thing in the end.

He feels a smile tug at the corners of his mouth when he sees your response to that prompt if the exact same as his, looking for something long term. Harry takes a sip of his wine as he looks through the photos you posted on your profile, enjoying the tiny look at what you do for fun since you have a few photos at concerts and other events such as the classic group photo during a girls night out but the one that sticks with Harry the most is of you sitting on a couch with a glass of wine and a book in your hand that someone took while you weren’t looking or at least that’s how it appears. When he reaches the end of your profile he doesn’t give himself a moment to overthink it he simply swipes right and continues on his scroll through the app trying not to get too anxious as he waits to see if you’ll match with him and find him interesting enough to message.

After a few more minutes of scrolling he lets out a sigh before he takes a rather large sip of wine, just when he’s ready to call it a night and leave the silly little dating app he sees that he has a new message. He quirks an eyebrow as he goes to his messages and he can’t help the grin that takes over his face when he sees it’s from you, meaning you have to be online now since he just swiped on you not even ten minutes ago and you’ve already sent him a message.

Now what Harry isn’t prepared for is what your message says, having only gotten the different variations of Hello so far as opening lines so when he opens your message the laugh that escapes him is genuine and he feels as if you just sent him a one liner you’d possibly use on him if you saw him at a bar and wanted to start a conversation with him. He reads the message again and shakes his head as he chuckles to himself while also feeling a bit of an inflation to his ego because your opening line is tailored to him, it’s something that you wouldn’t be able to use on just anyone. Because even if they were an obvious One Direction fan it would be very risky because they might not know the lyrics to the song and be extremely confused.

“If the room was burning, would you really not notice?”

He finds himself instantly replying and when he hits send he suddenly starts to get nervous that maybe he should’ve waited a bit to reply so he doesn’t seem too eager and possibly scare you off before he can even really get to know you. But it’s too late now, so he just sips his wine and stares at the small screen in his hand.

“Honestly I don’t think I would. My mind would be too preoccupied by someone and their ability to tell little fibs.”

When he sees a new message appear beneath his he lets out a small sigh of relief because already this is the longest conversation he’s had on this app so far.

“Right well thank goodness you’re fireproof.”

He quickly replies to you and waits with a new feeling of excitement brewing in his tummy to see what you’re going to say next. But he can’t help but wonder how long you can keep this up, he will happily play along because he doesn’t want to be the one to change the subject and possibly ruin the mood.

“Exactly. I’m also very good at finding my way through dark places as well.”

Luckily for him he doesn’t have to wait very long and your response has him laughing and he’s grateful that he lives alone so no one can walk into his living room and ask him what he’s laughing at while cuddled up in the corner of his couch.

“Oh does that mean you’re not scared of the dark? Because if you are that’s okay I won’t let anything get to you and drag you down.”

He is typing out his reply and hitting send before he can even fully lean over and put his empty wine glass down on the table.

“That’s lovely of you to say but no I’m not scared of the dark. Not even a little bit. The only thing I get a little unsettled about is how quickly the night can change.”

As Harry waits to see what you’ll say he can’t stop his mind from wondering if there’s a possibility you’re doing something similar right now, sitting comfortably on your couch or maybe in bed smiling and laughing at your phone like an idiot. Because surely it can’t just be him that’s enjoying how easy the conversation is flowing, regardless of how silly it may be.

You read the latest message from this “Harry” person and laugh at how he goes about avoiding the exact lyrics of the song night changes, you quickly type out a reply so you don’t have to keep him waiting for too long.

“It does change fast doesn’t it? I’ve always thought it was a bit rude how everything you’re dreaming about is just is gone in the morning.”

After hitting send you reach over to your nightstand and grab your glass of wine and take a sip as you go back to visit his profile. You narrow your eyes as you bring the screen a little closer to your face as you scroll down to the few photos he’s chosen, most of which are also on his Instagram so you don’t let the thought that you’re talking to the actual Harry Styles cross your mind. Especially since a lot of the information needed to make a profile on the dating app the two of you are currently messaging on is very accessible, it’s just a simple scroll through Google. The only thing that makes you quirk a brow is one photo he has at the very end of his profile, it’s a photo of him sitting at a table with a smile on his face while holding a glass of wine and it’s one you’ve never seen before but that also doesn’t mean anything because there’s tons of photos and videos of Harry you haven’t seen.

When you saw you matched with him you couldn’t stop yourself from instantly messaging him, because even though you know it’s just someone using Harry’s photos to get attention you figure you might as well have some harmless fun. You know eventually you’ll decide to move on and maybe report his account depending on how weird he gets. You’re brought back to the moment when you see you have a new message, you take another sip of your wine as you read what he wrote.

“It’s very rude but there is something that even the night can’t change. Do you know what that is?”

You bite down on your bottom lip as you read the message and you get an odd feeling this person might be trying to flirt with you because the next line of the song he’s talking about is a rather romantic one, but then again you can’t really be sure. You take this moment to test the waters a bit as you type out your reply and hit send before you can second guess yourself and delete it.

“It’s you and I right? Because nothing can separate us?”

You know you’re going to have to casually change the subject soon but you can’t help but want to see just how long the two of you can keep indirectly quoting One Direction songs in a way that has ended up with the two of you in a rather pointless conversation. You feel your cheeks get warm when you read his reply, of course this Harry impersonator would send you lyrics to Stockholm Syndrome.

“Precisely. It’s safe to say you’ve got me tied down.”

You finish off your wine and place the empty glass on your nightstand before figuring out how exactly you want to reply. There’s a few ways you could go about this, but instead of going the obvious flirty route you choose to go for the comedic approach instead because that’s more of who you are anyway.

“I mean I can’t have you trying to escape the city and follow the sun now can I? Because that would just break my heart and I don’t even know where I’d go if that happened.”

You giggle to yourself as you scroll to the top of your messages and reread them, well aware that if anyone were to read them they’d be extremely confused. You also have to admit that this person is very well educated on their One Direction lyrics and you’re a bit impressed. When you get to the bottom you see “Harry” has replied and what he says makes you lean your head back and laugh as you drop your phone into your lap as you try to get yourself under control.

“I’d never try to escape because if your heart is broken and you’re just wondering around that makes me worry people will try to steal you away from me and I can’t have that. Not to mention I also have no clue where’d you go with a broken heart and I’m honestly so shit with directions so I’d be left with no choice but to walk around shouting your name.”

After a few moments you quickly type out a response and double tap his last message letting a red heart appear next to it so he knows you really enjoyed that creative use of lyrics from two songs.

“Walking around shouting my name? Absolutely not. Don’t embarrass me.”

Harry doesn’t even bother trying to hide his amusement at your message, enjoying how you managed to give him an easy way to go along with your subtle change of conversation since he notices a very obvious lack of song lyrics in your reply. And Harry being the romantic that he is finds this a great opportunity to ask something, and your answer will be one he might possibly tuck away in his mind to remember at a later date.

“Not one for big declarations of love then?”

As he waits for your reply Harry takes a moment to process the fact that even though the two of you haven’t even really had a true conversation he already can tell by your sense of humor that he’s going to enjoy getting to know you more, if you let him that is. When he sees your response he laughs and runs a hand through his hair with his hand that’s not holding his phone.

“I’ve never had anyone do a big declaration of love for me before so I’m not sure how I feel about them. What about you? Do you need a Jumbotron proposal during a sporting event or a billboard dedicated to how much I love your hands?”

Harry looks at his free hand and wonders if you’re being serious about loving his hands or if that’s just an example you picked to show him what you would be willing to write on a billboard about him. As he types out his reply his mind begins to think of things that could be considered big declarations of love or feelings that maybe you’d like, because even though he doesn’t know you he figures having some ideas on the back burner can’t hurt and who doesn’t like coming home to an outrageous amount of flowers or a maybe even having the radio play nothing but your favorite songs for a whole day.

“I am open to all types of declarations of love. Big, small, handwritten or painted on a billboard. I’m not picky.”

Now only part of that statement is a lie, Harry truly does enjoy any type of declaration of love that his significant other is willing to give him but he is a tiny bit picky. But that’s something to discuss at a later date, because it doesn’t really have anything to do with what the two of you are discussing now, he’s picky about other things but not how someone is willing to tell him their feelings about him. As Harry is getting up and grabbing his empty wine glass off his coffee table and heading into the kitchen he gets an odd notification at the bottom of the message thread between the two of you.

*accept video chat*

But before he can even hit accept or decline the message is gone and he sees you’ve typed out a quick little explanation.

“Oh god I’m sorry! Finger slipped and hit the video chat button! Sorry!”

He quirks a brow as he scrolls to the top of the messages and sees what looks like a FaceTime icon near the corner. Having not noticed it before he becomes curious and maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s just that he’s interested in you and thinks this is a smart way to “meet” for the first time to get a better feeling of if the two of you actually can hold a conversation or not but either way Harry is typing out a quick message and hitting send before entering his kitchen.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know it was an option, I’m fine with a video chat if you are?”

You stare at his message for a solid thirty seconds before you even blink, not knowing why on earth this person would want to video chat with you when you know they aren’t Harry Styles. It’s going to be awkward and embarrassing, for them of course not for you because you already know you haven’t been talking to the tall tattooed international superstar but maybe this is for the best so you can tell whoever it is how impressed with their One Direction song lyric knowledge you are. And maybe, just maybe you’ll still find whoever it is attractive and it won’t be a total bummer of a Friday night. So against your better judgement you send him a simple response before you climb out of bed and head for the kitchen to refill your wine.

“Sure!”

You catch your reflection in the door of your microwave and instantly place your phone on the counter next to your fridge so you can adjust the monstrosity that is your messy bun. Once that’s as good as it’s going to get you look down at your faded band t shirt and decide that it’s good enough for whoever it is that’s about to video chat you, it’s after nine at night on a Friday after all so in your mind them seeing you like this is just preparing them for what they can expect in the future. As you’re reaching for your bottle of wine you see a new notification appear on your screen and you feel nervous as you pick your phone up.

*Accept video chat from Harry Styles*

You hit accept and the screen goes black before suddenly you’re looking at someone’s ceiling and you squint your eyes and bring the phone closer to your face as what appears to be half a forearm comes into view.

“Sorry love it seems I’ve dropped you.” You feel your heart begin to beat so fast you’re afraid it’s going to explode as a British accent comes from the phone, you swear it sounds exactly like Harry’s but you simply shake your head at that idea because there’s no way he’s on the other end of this call.

“Oh wow you sound just like-”

“I sound just like who?” Harry asks as he finally comes into view after he picks the phone up from where he accidentally dropped it on his counter while trying to open his wine bottle one handed. Your eyes go a bit wide as you move your phone away from your face, you feel your cheeks get hot and out of pure panic you place your phone against your wine bottle and put both hands over your face making Harry raise an eyebrow at you.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re Harry Styles.” You mumble into your hands but Harry hears you just fine making him chuckle as he pours some wine into his glass. “You weren’t supposed to actually be Harry Styles.” You explain as you spread your fingers allowing you to get a small look at Harry through the gaps, it’s almost unfair how much better he looks while taking up your phone screen than he does in his photos.

“Who was I supposed to be?” He questions as he grabs his phone and his wine glass and heads back into his living room.

“Some weirdo just acting like you to get attention on a dating app.” Harry doesn’t quite like that answer, he doesn’t like the idea of someone pretending to be him just to get attention and possibly hurt people in the process.

“Do people really do that? Pretend to be me on things like this?” You just shrug as you slowly lower your hands from your face and Harry is glad he’s already sitting down because even with your pink cheeks and distraught look in your still slightly wide eyes he can’t get over how pretty you are.

“I’m not sure? You’re actually the first Harry Styles I’ve ever come across but I mean I just-I didn’t think it was really you.” You admit with a laugh as you reach and grab your phone so you can get to your wine bottle, deciding you now more than ever need to refill your glass.

“Are you disappointed it’s really me and not some random weirdo?” He watches you raise an eyebrow and make a humming noise as if you really have to think about it before answering him.

“Honestly I’m relieved it’s actually you because if it wasn’t then I would’ve had to tell a random person how impressed I was with their One Direction knowledge.” You answer after you fill your glass up with wine, Harry chuckles as you make a face of disgust at the mention of telling someone you were impressed with them. “But since it’s you-”

“Oh are you saying you’re not impressed with my One Direction knowledge?” He says in mock offense as he watches you walk through what he can only assume is your kitchen based on the oven he sees in the background.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” You answer without any hesitation and Harry’s face breaks out into a wide grin because the look you give him is one that tells him he should’ve known that was going to be your answer.

“Well I’m quite impressed with your knowledge and your opening message was-”

“Oh god.” You say with a groan as you head into the living room, your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you take a seat on your couch making Harry give you a soft smile to try to help ease your clear embarrassment of what you sent him because he thought it was great.

“Don’t feel embarrassed love.” He quietly clears his throat and takes a sip of his wine after the petname accidentally slips out of his mouth. “I thought it was brilliant that’s why I responded and kept it going.” He explains making you smile and it’s not until this very moment do the two of you really sit and look each other in the eyes and Harry feels his own cheeks get a little warm as you stare at him through the phone.

“You’re really pretty.” Harry laughs and runs a hand through his hair as you blink a few times and realize what you just said out loud.

“You’re really pretty as well.” He says with only a small hint of nervousness evident in his voice because he doesn’t want to come across overly flirty but he also doesn’t see the harm in telling you the truth, you are very pretty.

“Thank you.” You smile and get comfortable on your couch. “I guess it’s good to get all this embarrassing and awkwardness out of the way now right?” Harry just nods and smiles at your choice of words, giving him some hope that you’ll want to maybe do this again or possibly meet up in person if you feel comfortable enough.

“Exactly.” Is all he says with a grin making you return his smile as you sink into your couch and toss a blanket over your legs to get comfortable because something tells you that you’re about to be on the phone with Harry for a while and you don’t mind. You silently thank your lucky stars that you decided to message him when you saw he matched with you because you can’t imagine the level of regret you’d feel if you somehow found out you fumbled the opportunity to talk and possibly get to know Harry just because you thought it was a fake profile.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: You can put your first meeting with Eita Otoya down to coincidence; the second, too, and maybe even the third. But as your paths keep crossing again and again, you’re forced to realize that it may not be such a coincidence after all — that maybe, despite your fervent wishes for it to be otherwise, he’s the one you’ve been hoping to find all along. A spin-off of Five Ways to Kill a Crow!

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Otoya x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 26.7k

Content Warnings: crack fic, reader is so dramatic for 0 reason, reader has a lot of insecurities, otoya is…otoya?? so a red flag but in a goofy way, mentions of reader’s bff dating karasu (she’s the y/n from fwtkac!!), i cannot stress enough that this is just NOT that serious, reader is in love with everyone BUT otoya, aiku mentioned (derogatorily by reader but affectionately by me), lots of swearing, dumbass situations, enemies to lovers except they have 0 reasons to be enemies, generally simplistic writing style because this is meant to be a silly piece, so much otoya slander like bro gets called every name in the book

A/N: hello everyone i’m finally back with new writing LMAOAO i’m sorry it’s not an official request or anything but a lot of people have mentioned wanting to see fwtkac y/n’s best friend and otoya getting together so here is something along those lines!! i didn’t really lock in for this one tbh so if the writing seems worse than usual that’s why but anyways here’s a little something to tide you guys over until i get back on my typical grind. also for anyone who is wondering — no you don’t actually have to read fwtkac to understand this (i don’t think) but there are references to it scattered throughout the story!! so if something seems weirdly unexplained it’s probably something like that

It was cold out, cold and more than a little rainy, but inside of the movie theater where you and your cousins were sitting, it was warm to the point of discomfort. You had long ago shrugged off your jacket and unzipped your sweater, but whoever was in charge of the temperature must’ve decided they wanted to simulate the boiling climate of the Sahara, because your cheeks were hot and your throat was scratchy from the dry air blowing in your face.

By itself, that was bad enough. But to make matters worse, sitting directly in front of you was a boy on a date, who was clearly enthused to prove to the world that that was what he was doing. His fingers were tangled in his companion’s hair as he tugged her face impossibly closer to his, and the soft sounds of their kissing only made you burn hotter with shame. All you could do was slink down in your seat and try to pretend like you were anywhere but in that theater, at that moment, sitting beside your twelve year old cousin who, by some miracle, hadn’t said something immature about the situation yet. You had already given up on seeing the movie; no matter which way you craned your neck, the screen was always partially obstructed by the couple in front of you, so you just sat there and hoped for it to be over as fast as possible.

As soon as the movie ended, you shot to your feet, leaving your cousins behind as you raced into the lobby, your simmering frustration boiling over as you caught sight of the boy, who had been ditched by his date and was standing by a vending machine, punching in the code for a soft drink.

“Hey,” you snapped, standing behind him with your arms crossed. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

“What?” he said, turning around, his brow furrowed. The can of soda in his fist was weeping with condensation, droplets trickling down his long fingers onto his pale wrist, and for some reason, watching the slow seeping of water onto the sleeves of his sweatshirt was particularly enraging, exacerbating your already foul mood. Shouldering past him, you glared at the options in the machine, finding that the mixture of the salty popcorn and the parched air had left you thirsty but entirely unwilling to pay the exorbitant fees for literally every drink that was being offered.

“I sat behind you for the entire movie,” you said.

“Oh,” he said, obviously confused why you were bringing it up. Rolling your eyes, you decided on a bottle of water, typing in the code and presenting your card when prompted. 

“I couldn’t see the screen the entire time because of you, you fucking dimwit,” you said. “Seriously, you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself for even a minute or two? Even plays have intermissions!”

“What are you talking about? Do you need help or something? I don’t have money, if that’s what you want,” he said, obviously lost. You narrowed your eyes, wondering if you had somehow gotten the wrong person before deciding that no, it was definitely him.

He was a distinct sort of person now that you looked at him more closely, even though he had seemed so nondescript at first. Most of his hair was a pale, silvery color, although it was streaked through with a green that fell in his pear-colored eyes, and his face had a delicate sort of handsomeness which might’ve made you swoon, were you the kind of person that was easily swayed by something so superficial. 

“I don’t need money. I’m talking about how you and that girlfriend of yours were so busy—”

“Y/N!” Before you could launch into a full-blown tirade, you were interrupted by your youngest cousin, who was only nine, throwing his arms around your waist in a hug. “We were looking for you everywhere!”

“Oh!” you said. You rarely ever saw your cousins, but you remembered holding the youngest when he was only a baby, so you always felt particularly gentle around him, even if he wasn’t really anything close to a baby anymore. “I’m sorry, I was just thirsty, so I came to get some water.”

Bending over to retrieve your bottle of water, you unscrewed the cap, tilting your head back and pouring it down your throat before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and putting the lid back on. Shooting one last glare at the boy, who was still standing there, you placed one hand on your cousin’s head, steering him towards the door, though when you were certain he wasn’t looking at you, you allowed your scowl to reappear.

The boy was lucky your cousins had shown up; you would’ve said something rude to him then and there, but as it was, all you did was mouth the word jackass over your shoulder before you rounded the corner and left him behind for good.

The next Monday, you found your attitude hadn’t improved any. You were still irritated by that stupid boy and his stupid girlfriend and that stupid movie that you had stupidly wanted to watch. Maybe it was a little ridiculous that you were holding a grudge even now, but you had a sense that it wouldn’t go away until you got to complain to your best friend, who was the only person you knew would support you no matter what.

You didn’t have any classes together in the morning, which meant you had to wait to rant to her until lunch — this was a good thing, because it meant you wouldn’t be interrupted, but it was also a bad thing, because it meant she would be with her new boyfriend.

By the time you sat down, she was already done eating, leaning against Karasu’s arm as she played on his phone, although she did smile at you in greeting when you slammed your tray filled with your disgusting, school-provided lunch across from her.

“I hate couples,” you announced as a preamble, wanting her to know what the topic of your whining would be about today.

“Hm,” she said.

“I’m serious!” you said.

“You’re just mad because you’re single,” she said. “I told you I’m working on it, didn’t I? It’s not my fault all of Tabito’s friends are losers!”

You sighed, because you realized how your words could’ve been misconstrued. It wasn’t that you were upset she was with Karasu — if anything, it was kind of a relief, given how much drama the two of them had caused you for years — but you could see how your words could be interpreted in that way.

“I know,” you said, both as a concession and because she was right; Karasu’s friends really were, by and large, losers. “Actually, you two aren’t the ones that prompted me to say that this time, oddly enough.”

“Oh, then who did?” she said, her attention obviously piqued now that it was clear you weren’t going to grumble about her.

“You know how I went to visit my cousins last weekend?” you said. She nodded. “Well, we went to watch a movie while we were there, that new one I was really excited about, but somehow it ended up that we got stuck behind this guy on a date!”

“How’d you know that he was on a date?” she said, already accustomed to your preferred method of story-telling.

“Because there was a girl sitting next to him, and he sucked her face off for the entire movie, thereby completely blocking the screen,” you said, shuddering at the mere memory. “Can you believe it? The worst part is, he was totally stupid looking!”

“That’s annoying. How’d you know he was dumb looking, though? Wasn’t the theater dark?” she said. If she weren’t currently pressed against her boyfriend, who was both athletic and petty enough to deck you if you tried something, you would’ve leaned across the table and kissed her for going along with you so perfectly.

“I confronted him afterwards,” you said.

“While he was on a date? That’s a bold move,” she said, clearly surprised. “What did the girl say?”

“Huh?” you said. “Oh, she had already left. Guess she wasn’t that into him.” You punctuated that with a snicker, because the thought of the boy getting some humility forced into him was admittedly quite nice.

“Yikes,” your best friend said, although she then pouted at her screen. “Aw, man, I died. At this rate, I’ll never beat the high score.”

Karasu asked her for his phone back, going into some story about a cooler, so you took advantage of her brief moment of distraction to shove half of your sandwich down your throat. It wasn’t a great sandwich by any means, but it was at least better than nothing, and even though it was heavy like glue in your mouth when you chewed it, you forced it down dutifully, not wanting to be hungry during the second half of the day.

“Okay, describe this guy,” she said when she was done with her conversation. “I’m really interested in what could have driven you to judge his appearance so harshly.”

“Listen!” you said, rejuvenated by the food in your stomach and her interest in your story. “His hair was green!”

“Green?” she repeated.

“Yes!” you said, entirely vindicated by her incredulity. “Well, mostly it was a grayish white, but there was a green streak, and the undercut part was also green.”

She snorted. “That’s wild. Who told him that was a good idea?”

“I just wonder how much bleach he has to use to get it to be that color,” you said, thinking back to the boy and his hair, which, despite its odd coloring, hadn’t seemed destroyed in the slightest. It bore the consideration that maybe it was natural, but you didn’t want to believe that it was.

“I know for a fact that he had the most damaged, dead, crunchy-looking hair ever,” she said. You shook your head sadly, because as much as you wished that that was the case, you knew it wasn’t.

“It was actually pretty shiny and luscious,” you admitted. “If it weren’t for the weird choice of color and his terrible theater etiquette, I could see why someone might consider him attractive.”

“Maybe you can fix him,” she suggested. You immediately pretended to gag, because saying something even remotely kind about the boy had taken so much out of you that the thought of having to actually be with him, let alone fix him, was like a punch to the gut.

“The main thing I’ve learned from your relationship with Karasu is that you can never fix a man’s hair, no matter how much he likes you,” you said, eyeing Karasu’s hair suspiciously, wondering how it was that your best friend still hadn’t managed to convince him to go without the wax.

“Huh? Did you say my name?” Karasu said, handing your best friend his phone back and blinking at you curiously. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you and your best friend said in unison. He was obviously weirded out, but to his immense credit, did not argue much more, obviously deciding it wasn’t a battle he wanted to have. That was the kind of boyfriend he was, which was ironic, given how he and your best friend were once constantly at each other’s throats.

“Anyways, that’s my rant for the day,” you said, because there wasn’t much else to add. Your cousins had pulled you away before you could really do anything that would make for a truly excellent story, and there was only so much you could do to make the entire thing sound interesting to an uninvolved third party.

“That really is awful,” she said. “Don’t worry. Someday soon, we’ll find you someone to date, and then you can be the annoying couple everyone slanders. Trust me on that one.”

“I do,” you said, and it was the truth. “I have faith that you’re just being picky because you love me so much that you refuse to let me be with a substandard man.”

“Exactly,” she said, and it was both a good and bad thing that that was the case: good, because you knew she would never let you end up with someone shitty, but bad, because the prospects at your school were less than slim: they were nonexistent.

“You’re the best,” you said anyways, making a heart with your hands, because after all, it wasn’t her fault, and she really was doing what she could. 

“I try!” she said, and then you moved on to lighter subjects, such as the upcoming exam that you all had to take for Modern Literature — Karasu’s teammates were betting that he’d get the higher score on it, but as the loyal type, you had no choice but to bet on your best friend, although you really would’ve done so regardless. You couldn’t remember a single test in all of the years that you had known the two of them where Karasu had beaten her, at least not in Modern Literature.

Most of autumn and the beginning of winter crept along in the same way that the rest of the year had. It was monotony, really, although you didn’t mind it terribly most of the time. It would get to you on rare occasions, and only ever late at night, when you would lie in your bed and stare at the ceiling and wonder when it would be your turn for something exciting to happen.

Your prayers were answered, as they often were, in the form of your best friend. She had been invited to some big soccer game in Tokyo by both Karasu and his teammate, Hiori, which meant she had a spare ticket. She had yammered on the phone about the details, something about a key match and the stakes for the team, but you didn’t need any convincing.

“Obviously, I’ll come,” you said.

“You will?” she said.

“I’ve been wanting to go to the city for a while, anyways,” you said. “It’ll be fun!”

Plus, you thought to yourself, though you did not dare vocalize it, this could be my chance. She would never understand it, what it meant for you, why you were so invested, but the truth was that for you, this was the opportunity you had been waiting for. The opportunity to escape the dullness of your life. The opportunity to find something like what your best friend had with Karasu — someone, actually, and in particular someone who loved you simply because of who you were. You didn’t want any part of that bullshit that the boys in your high school liked to talk about, those strange confessions that felt more like the kinds of appraisals one would give to livestock than anything; you wanted to find something that was more characteristic of a romantic comedy than real life. Something that made your heart race and your stomach drop. Something like that.

The day of the game was the coldest all year, and you wrapped your blue scarf tighter around your neck as you sat in the bleachers next to your best friend and a girl with flowing red hair who introduced herself as Koyuki Chigiri. Rubbing your hands together for warmth, you engaged in idle conversation with the two of them while you waited for the match to begin, hoping that it would go by quickly so that you could return to the warmth of your car.

“I’m number 6’s girlfriend,” your best friend said in response to Koyuki’s question about who on the field she knew. There was a special fondness to the way she said the word girlfriend, and pride in the way she said his name: “Tabito Karasu.”

“I see him!” Koyuki said, shading her eyes with her hand so she didn’t have to narrow them against the sun. “My brother’s right over by where he is.”

She needn’t have said anything. The two of them were all but carbon copies of one another, and you were quite certain that you could’ve picked them out as siblings in any crowd.

“He looks just like you,” you offered, which was a bit tongue-in-cheek, but she didn’t seem to take it personally.

“We get that a lot,” she said. “What about you? Who are you with?”

“Technically, I’m not with anyone,” you began with a cringe. It sounded even more embarrassing when you said it aloud, especially when Koyuki’s inquisitive smile didn’t drop. “The thing is, both Karasu and number 16, Yo Hiori, invited her, so I just took her extra — what the fuck.”

Your jaw dropped as you looked out on the field and saw Karasu standing with someone eerily familiar. For a moment, you wondered if you were perhaps seeing a ghost or hallucinating or something, but as the seconds dragged by, you were forced to confront the fact that this was reality, that he was somehow, miraculously and inexplicably, here.

“Is everything okay?” your best friend said. “Hello? What’s gotten into you?”

“Hey,” you said faintly. “Why is your boyfriend talking to that — that — that creature? Why is that thing even on the field in the first place?”

“Number 9?” Koyuki said innocently. “Do you know him?”

You wanted to laugh and cry in turn. Did you know him? No, not really. He wasn’t anybody important or relevant, just a bad omen of sorts. What did it mean that he was here again? What aspect of your life would he manage to ruin this time?

“Are you serious?” your best friend said, clearly having reached the same conclusion you already had. “That Otoya dude is the theater guy?”

“Deadly serious,” you said. “What is he doing here? Shouldn’t he be off ruining innocent moviegoers’ experiences?”

She responded with something snarky about how he was probably there to play soccer, but you tuned her out, far too taken with this discovery, with this Otoya. It was undoubtedly him; nobody else would have that same coloring, that same slender build or sly posture. Even from the distance, his countenance reminded you of a snake’s, or perhaps a mouse’s — entirely cunning and shifty, untrustworthy and quick. You couldn’t tell what business Karasu, who had always been open and honest to a fault, had with someone like that, but to your dismay, it seemed like the two of them were genuine friends.

For the most part, you tried to ignore him, and it was relatively simple to do so. He was nothing compared to the other players, slipping beneath your notice, or so you liked to think. After all, what cause did you have to focus on Otoya when there was number 7, scoring the kind of goal that movies were made about? He was astounding, and the way he crashed to the ground and crumpled in a heap, pale hair spilling onto the grass of the field and long limbs sprawled out beneath him, was so reminiscent of a tragic hero that you audibly gasped before you even knew what was happening, jumping to your feet and breaking into applause along with Koyuki and your best friend. For a moment, you three were the only ones in the entire stadium to react, and then everyone else roared to life as number 7 — Nagi, his name was Nagi — pumped his fist in the air.

“That was amazing!” you said as the cheers died down and you all returned to your seats. “I never realized that soccer could be so exciting to watch.”

Was this the kind of thing that your best friend got to see every time she went to one of Karasu and Hiori’s games for Bambi Osaka? Somehow, based on the surprised look in her eyes, you doubted that it was the case. This was something special, something out-of-the-ordinary, and so, too, was Nagi.

“That guy is skilled,” she agreed. “So is everyone else. Including that Otoya—”

“Don’t even mention him!” you said, cutting her off with a huff, fully aware that she was just trying to mess with you. “Nagi’s the one who scored, so stick to praising him!” 

“Hyoma’s doing so well!” Koyuki said, her face the same shade as her hair and split with a white grin. “I can’t believe it. It’s like he was never hurt at all!”

Overcome with a bout of shivering, you hugged yourself tightly, hoping for some meager warmth. Readjusting your scarf, you tucked your hands into the pockets of your sweater.

“Honestly, this is way more intense than I expected,” you said. “I really hope they manage to win.”

“They will,” your best friend said. “I’m confident of that.”

You didn’t know anywhere near as much as she did about soccer, so you had no choice but to trust her confidence. She was clearly assured of herself, and her faith inspired you to have your own. They would definitely be victorious. Even though the U-20 boys had those two players, Sae and Aiku, you could tell that the rest of them had nothing on the Blue Lock players, who were playing with such speed and skill that you couldn’t even wrap your head around it.

Right before the referee blew the whistle for halftime, Blue Lock’s number 10, Rin, scored another goal, putting them in the lead for the first half. The way he did it was definitely technically perfect, but to you, it seemed like it was effortless — which you supposed was half the skill of it all.

As the players cleared the field, jogging towards their locker rooms, Koyuki stood up, waving her hands frantically. You gave her an odd look, but she ignored you, far too focused on gaining someone’s attention.

“Hyoma! Over here!” she called out. Although it was far, her voice carried enough that her brother, who was in the middle of drinking from his water bottle, whipped around, his eyes widening when he noticed Koyuki taking out her phone and snapping a photo of him. “He noticed me! Ah, hello, Hyoma! You’re doing awesome!”

Behind the younger Chigiri, you noticed Karasu walking with someone else, and you were dimly aware of your best friend shouting out her boyfriend’s name, waving at him with the giddiness of a puppy. You would’ve found the entire exchange nauseatingly sweet, but you were too preoccupied with Karasu’s companion to pay them any mind.

Standing up, you jabbed your finger towards Otoya. You probably — definitely — looked insane, but for some reason, the thought of him just getting to hang around and attain something like stardom in the soccer world was unbearable. He turned his head to both sides, like he was checking to see if there was anyone else you could possibly be motioning towards, but when he came to the understanding that there was no one else, that there never had been, that it was only him, he pointed at himself hesitantly. With a curt nod, you flipped him off, rocking onto your heels when he froze in confusion and sitting back in your seat as Karasu dragged him off to the locker rooms where the rest of the team was undoubtedly waiting for them.

“That’s what he gets,” you said, brushing your palms off against your thighs in satisfaction.

“He probably has no idea who you are,” your best friend said with a giggle. “Also, you described him horribly back then. He’s really pretty good-looking, and the hair is nowhere near as bad as you made it sound.”

“I’m telling Karasu you said that,” you said, almost betrayed at the fact that she was taking Otoya’s side over your own. “If I was him, I’d be offended! My beloved girlfriend finds a guy who appears to be fresh out of the swamp attractive? That would really make me insecure.”

“I don’t find him attractive, I just said that he’s good looking. It’s objective,” she said. You almost opened your mouth to argue with her, but considering even you had nearly admitted that he was handsome, you found that you didn’t really have any grounds upon which to do so. “And fresh out of the swamp? Aren’t you being a little harsh?”

“No way,” you said, glowering at her, and only half in jest. “He owes me the price of the ticket he made me waste, but since he obviously isn’t going to pay me back, I’m going to make as much fun of him as possible.”

“You do that,” she said before turning to Koyuki and asking her if she wanted any snacks. You dug your elbows into your thighs, exhaling as you gazed out onto the empty field, marveling at the crystals which puffed into the air from your breath.

“So,” Koyuki said once your best friend was gone. “What’s the history between you and Otoya?”

“History? There’s no history,” you said.

“It sure seems like there is,” she said.

“There isn’t,” you said. “Well, unless you count obstruction of a movie in that category.”

“I’m…not sure? You’ll have to elaborate,” she said.

“Basically, I had to sit behind him in a movie theater once, and instead of actually getting to watch the film — which, mind you, I was very excited about seeing — I was treated to a front-row experience of him and his girlfriend’s make-out session,” you said, wrinkling your nose at the mere memory.

“Ah,” Koyuki said. “That’s the worst.”

“Isn’t it?” you said. “Anyways, I didn’t even know his name until today. He’s really not important; the only reason I’m here is because of the extra ticket and…actually, it’s embarrassing.”

Even as you said it, you shrank away from Koyuki, who would undoubtedly judge you for the shallow reasoning. How silly your foolish desires would seem to a girl who was supporting her little brother! Silly and dumb and pathetic and unrealistic. 

“It can’t be that bad,” she said, and she was so genuine when she did that you relented without further convincing.

“I want a boyfriend,” you admitted. “Not in, like, a desperate way or anything, but out of all of our friends back at home, I’m the only one who doesn’t have anything close to a relationship. I guess it would be nice to be the one who’s picked for a change, and it’s not like there’s anyone at my high school who I necessarily want to pick me.”

“I don’t think that’s embarrassing,” Koyuki said.

“Isn’t it? What kind of idiot goes to a soccer game just because they want to date one of the players? I bet those guys down there could have any girl they wanted. Why would they go for me? I’m not like my best friend. You know, Karasu was in love with her for years before he finally mustered up the courage to ask her out, and even then, it was only because she forced him to. How am I ever supposed to find someone like that by just sitting on the sidelines?” you said. You weren’t even sure why you were telling Koyuki all of this — the two of you had only just met, after all, but now that you had begun, you couldn’t stop. Maybe it was that you had never been able to say this to anyone, least of all your best friend, who you didn’t want to burden with your issues, but it was like a floodgate had opened. “That’s why it’s embarrassing. I’m just like every other fan with dreams bordering on delusion.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s the case,” Koyuki said, stroking her chin thoughtfully. “After all, your best friend is dating one of the players. I’m sure she and…Karasu, was it? The two of them would definitely be willing to help set you up with whoever you want, as long as the other party is open to it. That’s a connection that ‘every other fan’ doesn’t have.”

“That’s true,” you said. She patted you on the shoulder.

“Cheer up! Don’t think too much about it. Figure out if any of them are even worth your while, and then you can think about how you’ll approach them,” she said.

“I guess that makes sense,” you said.

“Good,” she said firmly. “If you don’t believe in yourself, then how can you expect other people to? Do you want a boyfriend?”

“Yes?” you said.

“Yes! Then you’ll get one,” she said. “Ooh! My fries!”

“I had to fight an old lady for these,” your best friend said, handing a bucket of fries to Koyuki and pressing a box of your favorite candy in your palm. “I know you didn’t ask for anything, Y/N, but I thought you might want this.”

“Thank you,” you said, tearing open the packet and taking out a handful to suck on as the second half began.

There was a new player on the U-20 team, and he managed to score two goals in quick succession, giving them the lead and a renewed vigor in play. His name was Shidou, and he was completely unlike anything you had ever seen before, cackling like a maniac as he played, talking about impregnation with every goal he made. It was so odd that it crossed the line from disconcerting into plain fascinating, and you found yourself trying to picture what a conversation with him would be like.

Shortly after Shidou’s first goal, Hyoma Chigiri collapsed to the ground. Koyuki inhaled sharply, stuffing her mouth with fries and chewing rapidly as another player, the number 3, stumbled before slumping over entirely. You swallowed, immediately glancing at your best friend, who was the only one unconcerned amongst the three of you.

“It looks like a cramp,” she reassured you both. “And I think Niko must’ve sprained his ankle during that earlier play. They’re going to have to put in alternates, but it’s not serious. Both of them just need some rest and they’ll be okay.”

“If you say so,” Koyuki said. You hummed in agreement before returning your eyes to the match, where the substitutes were being announced. Up until this point, the only player that had even somewhat caught your eye was Nagi, and you wondered if either of the newcomers would manage to outdo him and his flashy goal from earlier.

Niko was being helped off of the field by his replacement, a tall boy with purple hair tied up in a messy ponytail and the number 14 emblazoned across his broad back. He hadn’t even played yet, but for some reason, he looked oddly familiar, and not just because he had the sort of body one would expect to feature in music videos. No, it was something else…

“No way, is that Reo Mikage?” you said, your hand flying to your mouth as you read the name lettered onto his jersey. What the hell was Reo Mikage doing in this match? As the scion of the Mikage Corporation, didn’t he have better things to be doing than kicking around a ball with a bunch of sweaty dumbasses?

“Like the corporate heir?” your best friend said. 

“I’m sure of it!” you said. Now that you could see his face, it was abundantly clear that it was him. There was no mistaking Reo Mikage, after all; the entire country knew who he was. “Oh, man, he’s even more gorgeous in person…do you think Karasu knows him? Can I get an introduction? He’s so dreamy and perfect and amazing and unreal!”

You were prone to such flights of fancy, after all. Nobody questioned it when you rambled on and on about this type of thing, especially because it never came to fruition. You were the one who talked and talked about things like weddings and marriage and romance, but when it came down to it, you had less experience than a middle schooler.

“I can ask,” she said. “I’m sure they’re at least acquainted, considering they’re playing on the same team — wait! Look, it’s Hiori! Oh my goodness, it’s Hiori! Yay, yay, Hiori! You’ve got this!”

Her voice tapered into a squeal, which might’ve been strange, considering she was cheering for a man who was very much not her boyfriend, but from what little you knew of the dynamic, Hiori was something like a younger brother to both her and Karasu alike, so it wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest.

When he ran onto the field, it was to join Otoya at his side, earning him a thump on the back in greeting. You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue, wishing that Hiori had gone anywhere else, because now Otoya had recaptured your attention, and you had done so well at ignoring him thus far that you were irritated to remember he still existed.

“Somebody save that poor, innocent boy,” you said, shaking your head as the game began anew.

“Hiori? From what?” your best friend said.

“From being corrupted and turned into a bad-mannered asshole by Otoya,” you said. Currently, the ball was nearer to Blue Lock’s goal than the U-20’s, so Otoya was hanging back, ever-ready for a counter but still hiding in the shadows, leaving the majority of the work to the defenders.

You didn’t think anyone else was looking at him just then, so you took the moment to pick apart his every flaw in a way that felt private, even though you were both surrounded by people. Skinny as hell. Shitty posture. Dumb hair. Expressionless. Probably awful at soccer. Definitely has perpetually scraped knees. Might smell like grass, and not in a good way. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid —

“Woah,” your best friend said, causing you to blink and redirect your attention to where Reo Mikage had just done…something. You weren’t really sure what, exactly, but it must’ve been sufficiently impressive, because there were more than a few claps and hollers of approval thrown his way. “Reo’s rich and a soccer genius? I thought you were full of bullshit earlier, but you actually might be onto something.”

“Exactly,” you said, and although you still didn’t know what Reo had done to deserve the title of ‘soccer genius’, you fully believed that he deserved it. “What a man.”

Unfortunately, no matter how good both Reo and the rest of the players on the Blue Lock team were, Shidou still did make that second goal, which led to the current situation: number 11, Isagi, storming over to the sidelines, saying something to his coach with entirely more rage than you ever would’ve expected someone as meek as him could possess.

“They look like they’re arguing,” Koyuki said, worrying her lower lip in between her teeth. “Do you think everything is alright?”

Both you and her gazed expectantly at your best friend, who seemed shocked that you were deferring to her — not that she should’ve been, considering the fact that she had been explaining the game until this point to you pretty effectively.

“Maybe he’s mad about his cooler?” she said.

“Huh?” you said, trying to discern if this was one of her obscure literature references or something from social media that you had missed.

“Never mind,” she said. “Uh, if I had to guess, he’s probably either asking the coach to give them a new strategy or calling for their substitute to be put in. Shidou and Sae have backed them into a corner, and if they don’t switch things up soon, they’re going to lose.”

“Looks like Karasu and Hiori taught you more than you realized,” you said as the referee whistled to announce that the final substitute for the Blue Lock players would be taking the field. You leaned forwards in anticipation — given that the last substitution had resulted in Reo taking the field, you had high expectations for this last player, who according to the board was their number 13: Barou.

He more than delivered. His dark hair was pushed out of his face, away from his features, which were so sharp that they seemed to be made of marble. Although you were so far away, you could see how vibrant his crimson eyes were, how tempestuous and volatile everything about him, down to his very aura, was. He didn’t stop to greet Isagi, who was clearly pleased by his appearance, and when he took the field, it was with a sort of savagery, like a beast baring its fangs at its prey.

“That guy is scary,” your best friend said.

“Scary hot,” you said.

“Moving on from Reo already? This is why you’ll never have a boyfriend,” she said. “Too fickle.”

“Listen, I have to keep my options open! Not everyone is lucky enough to have someone who’s good-looking, talented, and has been obsessed with them for years,” you said, elbowing her in the side and covering the sting of the truth with a smirk. It wasn’t her fault, after all. She couldn’t change the fact that someone loved her anymore than you could change the fact that no one loved you. “What if I get rejected by Reo? I need to have another option, or else I’m fresh out of luck.”

“Looks like he’s replacing Otoya,” she said. “What’s his name? Barou? I’m interested to see how he does.”

True to her word, Otoya was striding off of the field, pausing only to mutter something to Barou before joining the others on the bench. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at the twist of events — you didn’t have to worry about distractions anymore. With Otoya gone, there wouldn’t be anything in your way. You wouldn’t have anything or anyone obstructing your enjoyment for the rest of the match.

“He’s getting rid of that wannabe bog monster? Even better! He’s quickly shooting up in my rankings,” you said, clapping your hands together.

“Wannabe — okay, I’ll just be happy for you,” she said. “Though his hair isn’t so green as to deserve this much slander…”

“Thanks,” you said, stretching your neck so you could see where Otoya was sitting with the other players. There he was, on the bench next to a fine-boned boy with curly black hair, sipping on some drink or another. You couldn’t quite tell given the angle, but as it made you feel better to think so, you decided that he must’ve been sitting there and seething that he had been replaced. It must’ve crushed him, that he had been taken off the field before he could even do anything meaningful! How humiliating. If only you were there, too, you would’ve crouched there and told him these things…it still wouldn’t make up for that dumb movie that he made you miss, that you still hadn’t gotten the chance to see, but it would probably make you feel better for the moment.

“Check this out,” your best friend said, interrupting your train of thought for the hundredth time in the past fifteen minutes. “They’re making edits of us.”

“What?” you said. Koyuki let out a delighted laugh as you all watched the clip of the three of you in the audience play.

“They’re really talented!” she said. “Save that and send it to me after the game, please.”

“On it,” your best friend said, saving the video to a folder and then putting her phone away, just in time for you to catch Barou scoring in what, once again, must’ve been some great feat but was to you just another move you couldn’t really comprehend.

Every single person was on their feet, screaming as Barou yanked his jersey off, throwing it into the air and flexing his arms as he jumped in celebration, roaring back at the audience as everyone chanted his name.

“Wow,” you said.

“Wow is right!” your best friend said, prompting you to give her a concerned look. “That was an incredible play. Barou is in another realm entirely!”

Of course, she was talking about soccer. But that was the furthest thing from your mind at the moment; you didn’t care about the sport or Barou’s aptitude at it, especially not now.

“Oh, I don’t know enough about soccer to be in awe of his goal,” you explained. “I’m talking about those wow muscles of his. I bet he could carry me with one arm…”

“Ew, nasty,” she said, smacking your forearm in reprimand. You didn’t even deny it; you both knew exactly what you meant when you said that, and it was something you would stand by if need be.

“Come on, you know it’s true!” you said.

“I have a boyfriend. I’m not allowed to answer that,” she said. You crossed your arms at the hypocrisy of that response.

“But you’re allowed to say that Otoya is good-looking?” you said.

“That was just me being nice!” she said.

“I sense favoritism,” you said with an injured sniff on Barou’s behalf. “And not even the good kind, because for some reason, you’re favoring the worst guy in the bunch! Since Karasu isn’t around to be disappointed in you, I’ll do it on his behalf.”

“Shut up,” she said lightly. “I liked you better when you were in love with Reo.”

At the mention of Reo, your face warmed, and involuntarily, you looked over to where he was talking with his team’s goalie, his expression grave and motions decisive.

“Believe me, I still am,” you said. “He’s not the kind of person you get over easily.”

“Ah, and remind me of how many times you’ve spoken to him?” she said. You ground your teeth.

“That’s not the point!” you said, which earned you a snicker from her.

“Did you know that those two are brothers?” Koyuki said a few minutes later, pointing at the two opposing players battling for the ball.

“Sae and Rin?” you said.

“Mhm, yeah, I overheard these two guys talking about it while I was at the trash can earlier,” she said. 

“Their parents must have incredible genes,” your best friend said. “Those two are easily the best players on their respective teams.”

“They’re both really good,” you added, not because you had any opinions one way or another but because you wanted to be included in the discussion.

Even you could tell that this last play was crucial. With the score tied and both teams functioning at a completely different intensity than earlier, everyone in the audience was keenly aware of the fact that the game could really go either way. Koyuki had your best friend’s hand in a death grip, and you were twisting the ends of your scarf as you sucked on your teeth, every successive moment of the game causing your nerves to fray further.

Right when it seemed that everything would end with a tie, the ball landed at Isagi’s feet, and even though you had hardly taken notice of him for this entire game, you were suddenly struck by the fact that he, too, was kind of angry, was kind of beautiful. Without taking a moment to consider or hesitate, he drew his leg back and, nanoseconds before the referee blew the whistle, slammed his foot into the ball, sending it flying to the net with a flourish.

“They did it!” Koyuki shrieked, tackling you and your best friend in a hug before you even had a chance to react, pulling you to her sides so tightly it was as if you were the ones who had won. 

“They did!” your best friend shrieked back.

“I can’t believe it!” you said, your cheek smushed against Koyuki’s collarbone as your eyes darted towards the field, where the Blue Lock boys were celebrating. “They really pulled it off!”

It was ridiculous. It was amazing. It was fantastical. There was no way it should’ve ended up in this way, but somehow, it really was the case that the Blue Lock players had won. That was the sort of thing that only happened in movies, and yet it had ended up like that. There was a sort of hope which brewed in you just then, a hope that if you lived in a world where a team of high school forwards could beat the best players in the country, then the chances of things working out for you might not be so slim after all.

After that, everything seemed to work out exactly as Koyuki had predicted they would. Somehow, and you weren’t quite sure what she had said to convince him of it, but somehow, your best friend had gotten the two of you invited to a meeting that Karasu was having with some of the other Blue Lock players — players which included none other than Reo Mikage himself.

“Tell Karasu to sit next to you, and then have him get Reo to sit in between himself and me,” you said when you arrived at the cafe where the meeting was supposedly going to be held. You had made her arrive a few minutes early, just in case Reo was the type to believe in the early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable school of thought, and you had gotten enough sleep last night, so you were fresh-faced and ready to make a good impression on the boy who was almost assuredly the love of your life, or at least soon would be.

“Yup, I know the plan,” your best friend said.

“Good,” you said, although considering she had been the one to come up with the plan in the first place, it would’ve been a little ridiculous if she had forgotten by now. “Have you picked what you’re ordering? Since no one else is here yet, I can go in and grab stuff for both of us.”

“Yeah, I want this, and this,” she said, pointing at what she wanted. You made a mental note of which menu items she had indicated before nodding.

“Mm, looks good,” you said. “Eek, I think there’s a line.”

“It’s peak brunch time,” she said, which did make sense. “We’re lucky to have gotten a table at all, let alone one so big. Just leave your sweater on your chair so no one else takes it. Unless you want me to go instead?”

“Nope, I don’t want to look like a friendless loser if Reo gets here before you come back or the others show up,” you said, wincing in horror at the mere thought. It was less embarrassing for her to be waiting by herself, since she had her boyfriend as an excuse, but you? You were barely associated with any of the players, and without her and Karasu there to smooth over any introductions, you were sure they would be more than a little stilted and awkward.

“You should hurry up and join the queue before it gets any worse, then,” she said, pointing at where the line was getting longer and longer. “It would suck if you were stuck waiting and Reo left before you could even meet him.”

“I’m going!” you said, sufficiently motivated, if not by your lack of caffeine until now, then by the chance that this entire trip would’ve been for nothing.

Luckily, although it was long, the line was fast-moving, and it didn’t take you quite as much time as you thought it would to get to the counter. Rattling off what you and your best friend wanted, you paid for it all and tucked the receipt into your pocket, stepping to the side to wait for your order to be placed on the counter.

“Y/N!” the barista shouted, setting the two drinks and scones you had ordered onto the counter. You furrowed your brow as you inspected them, turning the clear cup of iced coffee around to ensure it was your name written on it. “Uh, ma’am, is there a problem?”

“What?” you said, glancing up at the barista, who was looking at you in confusion. “No, I just thought I had ordered this hot. I must’ve said the wrong thing, though! Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, no!” she said, reaching for the cup. “Let me remake it!”

“It’s fine,” you said, tugging the cup back. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a limousine driving away, which almost certainly meant Reo was here by now, and yet there you were, stuck inside of the cafe. “I don’t mind if it’s iced.”

“It’s my first week, so I definitely just got confused. It’s my mistake, so please allow me to rectify it. Free of charge!” she said, snatching the cup from your hand without letting you get a word in edgewise.

You tapped your foot anxiously as you waited for her to remake it, her every movement far too slow, to the point that it felt like she was doing it on purpose. Finally, she came back with the new cup, and balancing it on your hand with what your best friend had ordered, you muttered a quick ‘thank you’ to the barista and rushed out of the shop.

“Sorry I took so long,” you said by way of explanation, keeping your eyes on your best friend, too flustered to look anywhere else. Normally, she would’ve given you an encouraging nod, but for some reason, she seemed on edge, which was your first sign that something was wrong. “The barista got confused and made my drink iced. I told her it wasn’t a big deal, but she insisted on dumping it and remaking it properly, free of charge. Apparently, she’s new or something, so she’s still in that phase where she isn’t entirely jaded by the public yet.”

“It’s okay,” your best friend said, and the lack of a joke or even a smile was so out-of-character for her that you actually were about to ask her what was wrong. 

Then, however, there was a flash of green in your peripheral vision, a specific shade like an April spring cutting through March’s white winter, and something cold rushed over you as you realized just what that meant.

“You!” you said, pointing at the one person you didn’t want to see, the one person who was basically the sum total of every single moment of bad luck you had ever had, the one person that was your life’s misfortune concentrated into a slender body, the one person who kept showing up for some reason. Your best friend’s drink slipped from your hands as you set the rest of your order onto the table, glaring at Otoya all the while. He groaned, burying his face in his hands, and the reaction was so adverse coming from someone who had never even been wronged by you that it only caused you to be even more irascible. “You owe me ten dollars!”

“What? No, I don’t. We’ve never even met, so why would I owe you any money at all?” Otoya said. “Wait. We haven’t met, right? Or did we go on a date at some point? If so, I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, but you have to understand that things just end up like that sometimes. I’m not going to compensate you for that.”

You were going to crush his throat. You were going to reach out and wrap your fingers around his pale neck and squeeze until he choked and stopped spouting bullshit like that. What kind of ego did he possess, that he immediately assumed you would ever want to date him? Him! 

“You were definitely on a date,” you hissed. “I wasn’t, though. In fact, I was just innocently trying to watch a movie with my cousins, when somebody decided that they would just go ahead and make out with their date, right in front of my face, for the entire one hour and forty-seven minutes of the film!”

“Oh, I do remember you!” he said, snapping his fingers in recognition. “You came and yelled at me after the movie, too, right? That was funny.”

Before you could say anything further, you were interrupted by none other than Reo Mikage, who was clearly more than a little annoyed by the argument.

“Okay, guys, how about we all relax and get to the point of this meeting instead of squabbling over past grievances?” he said with a sigh.

It was a miracle you didn’t burst into tears then and there. Of course it happened like this. Of course it did. You suddenly felt so dumb for hoping that it would be different. Why had you thought that you would ever be appealing to someone like that? Why had you believed it would be possible for you to actually impress him? Your clothes suddenly seemed too garish, your face comical and your hair outlandish in front of his exasperation. You shouldn’t have tried so hard. You should’ve known better.

“Fine by me,” Otoya said after a second. “Yo, you gonna sit down or what?”

“You guys can have your meeting without us, since I’m quite sure it’s not anything that we’ll be able to meaningfully contribute to. In the meantime, she and I will go and get a replacement drink for me,” your best friend said, standing and using her hand to steer you back into the cafe.

As soon as the door swung shut behind you, you allowed your expression to crumple. “I completely made an awful first impression on Reo Mikage!”

“I can’t lie, you definitely did, but at least it was entertaining for the rest of us,” she said. That didn’t make you feel any better, and she must’ve picked up on that, because she wrapped her arm around your shoulders as you got in line again. “Cheer up! There’s still Barou, Nagi, and Isagi, right? You have an entire list for a reason. Reo might be a wash, but that doesn’t mean you have to give up entirely.”

“You’re right, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” you said. The fact that you had been so close, that you had had Reo within your grasp before making an idiot of yourself in front of everyone…it felt close to what you assumed being slapped in public must’ve. “If only that lettuce-headed Otoya weren’t here! Things would’ve gone perfectly, but ruining my life must be a particular hobby of his.”

That was the conclusion you had reached: Otoya was something like a curse for you. If he was there, then things would invariably go badly; Reo and the movie were the proof of it, and you didn’t want to know what other aspects he would meddle with if given the chance.

“You might be better off if you pretend he’s not around,” your best friend said, as if she were reading your mind. “How about this? We’ll get Tabito to set you up on a date with one of the others on your roster, and I’ll personally ensure that Otoya stays far, far away.”

“Thanks,” you said, because if she was guaranteeing it, then it was all but assured, and the idea was much more palatable than further fumbling around in front of Reo, who already likely thought of you as a bratty girl prone to throwing tantrums. Overcome with fondness for her generosity, you turned to her and continued: “Here, I’ll pay for your drink, since I spilled it the first time.”

“Yeah, I was going to make you do that even if you didn’t offer,” she said, wrinkling her nose at you as you reached the counter and began to order.

By the time you received your new drinks and additional scones, your stomach was rumbling. Exiting the cafe with half of a scone in your mouth and a stack of napkins in your hands, you raised your eyebrows when you saw that the number of people at the table you had left behind seemed to have multiplied.

You recognized a few of them — Karasu and Reo, of course, given that you had gone to school with the former for years and were the latter’s self-proclaimed biggest fan, as well as Otoya, begrudgingly, and Isagi, who was one of the newcomers but had been the one to score the winning goal for Blue Lock, making him a person of note. Then there were others who you remembered only vaguely — Hyoma Chigiri, who was Koyuki’s little brother, and Kenyu Yukimiya, who was a model and, somehow, a friend of your best friend’s.

Deciding that the boy with the cascading black hair and fluttering lashes seemed like the safest, most neutral party, and having no intentions of confronting Isagi with Otoya so near, you sidled over to him, sipping on your drink and waiting for him to notice you. He did almost immediately, and with a smile, he waved you closer.

“Hello,” he said. “My name is Aryu. Who might you be?”

The fact that he had introduced himself instead of automatically assuming you knew who he was instantly set you at ease, so you didn’t even feel shy in reciprocating.

“Y/N,” you said. “It’s nice to meet you, Aryu.”

“And you as well!” he said.

“Do you mind if I hang around with you for a bit?” you said.

“Not at all,” he said. “In fact, it might be for the better. I fear I’ve offended Karasu a bit, and any buffer I can get is one I’ll accept.”

“Offended Karasu?” you said. “Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us. He’s pretty crabby.”

“I can’t blame him this time,” the boy sitting next to Aryu piped up. “Aryu was totally hitting on his girlfriend. I’m Tokimitsu, by the way! Uh, but, not like you asked or anything. Sorry!”

“I was not hitting on her! I was only acknowledging her glamorous spirit!” Aryu said. “There’s a difference.”

“Um, okay,” you said, because you had a sense that you didn’t want to know what he meant by your best friend having a glamorous spirit. “And don’t apologize, Tokimitsu. It’s always good to know more people. Speaking of which, who are the others?”

“Well, you know Karasu,” Aryu said. “Next to him is Otoya, then Reo, Yukimiya, Isagi, Chigiri, and Bachira. We’re all in Blue Lock together.”

“Besides me, the rest of them played in the game against the U-20s!” Tokimitsu added. “Reo was a substitute, but he was totally amazing, wasn’t he?”

“Totally,” you said, tempering your exhale so it didn’t sound dreamy and longing. “And yes, now that you mention it, I do remember watching all of you play. I was at the game, you know!”

“Yeah, of course!” Tokimitsu said. “You’re one of the girls from the edits.”

“I didn’t know how popular those were,” you said, frowning in confusion. According to your best friend, the fact that you, her, and Koyuki had been the first to cheer for Nagi’s goal meant that the cameras had focused on you for a while, leading people to make edits of the three of you in turn. She was more invested in it than you; in truth, you didn’t really keep up with that side of social media, except for when she sent you particularly good ones. “I mean, you recognized me just based on those alone?”

“Apparently, you’re extra-famous,” Aryu said. “You’re in one of the top Blue Lock pairings.”

“Top what now?” you said. Tokimitsu hummed in agreement.

“I was telling your friend about this earlier, too, but it’s really the case — people have been shipping you guys with the players!” he said.

“That means they want you to get together, or believe you would make a good couple,” Aryu explained, ostensibly because your befuddlement was still shining through.

“Oh,” you said. “I’m assuming she’s shipped with Karasu, then.”

“Of course,” Tokimitsu said. “They’re the number one trending couple, actually. You’re number two.”

“With who?” you said tentatively, unsure of whether you wanted to find out. What if it was Reo or Barou? What if it wasn’t them? What if it was someone completely random, like Bachira? Not that you had anything against Bachira, of course, but you weren’t sure how you felt about being…what was the word? Shipped? You weren’t sure how you felt about being shipped with him, that was all.

“Otoya!” Tokimitsu said cheerfully. “It’s because of that clip of you giving him the middle finger right before halftime.”

“It’s a thing now,” Aryu said, completely unaware or perhaps uncaring of the fright mingling with disgust that was seeping into every crevice of your body. “People have made matching profile photos of the two of you. It’s all very sweet.”

“Otoya?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “People are ‘shipping’ me with Otoya? Are you serious? You’re not, right? Please tell me you’re joking. You’re joking, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

Tokimitsu rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. “Uh, I mean, it’s not like it’s a binding vow or anything. You don’t have to date him just because a bunch of social media users think you should…”

“How?” you said. “How does someone look at me and then look at him and think that we’re somehow compatible? That’s — that’s — it’s preposterous, that’s what it is!”

“Um, I don’t really know, but I’m, er, sorry!” Tokimitsu squeaked. 

In the back of your mind, you were aware that you should be apologizing to Tokimitsu, not the other way around. He was only telling you what he had seen and what was surely one of those silly internet trends that would pass in a week or two; you were the one who was so affected by it when you really had no reason to be. In fact, you wouldn’t have been, had it been anyone else. Anyone but Otoya and you would’ve laughed along, but it wasn’t anyone else. It was him, it was that insufferable, mannerless freak with the hair from a children’s coloring book and the kind of ego that you would read about in overinflated posts online — he was the one that people had, for some reason, propped up as a good match for you or whatever it was that shipping meant.

“Moving on,” Aryu said, “I love your outfit today, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you said, knowing an attempt at redirection when you saw it and deciding there was no point in stewing further. “Your hair is really pretty, by the way. What’s your secret? It’s so long, but it doesn’t look damaged at all.”

“I’m glad you asked!” Aryu said. “The secret is oiling it every weekend.”

“Ah, I see,” you said, nodding along at the appropriate moments as he walked you through his hair-care routine.

“You know what we should do?” Bachira’s singsong voice cut through Aryu’s speech, catching all of your attention. “Since all of us are together for the first time outside of Blue Lock, we should hang out!”

“That’s good with me. Our meeting ended up not being that productive,” Yukimiya said.

“Mostly due to certain individuals,” Reo said, looking pointedly at Otoya, which made you feel particularly self-satisfied. Maybe all hope wasn’t completely lost — if Reo was assigning the larger portion of the blame to Otoya, then perhaps you could still convince him that you weren’t to be associated with his childishness.

“Me? Blame her!” Otoya said, pointing at you. You made a face at him, which he did not return, but you felt in your heart that he very much wanted to. 

“Reo’s too much of a glam gentleman to blame a lady for anything,” Aryu said.

“What he said,” Reo said. “Though I wouldn’t put it like that.”

You supposed it was as close to a win as you were getting, so you didn’t fight it. If that was what it took for Reo to view you in a favorable light, then that was what it took. You didn’t have the room to complain, not in the slightest.

“Where should we go?” Tokimitsu said, cutting off Otoya before he could formulate a response. “I’m okay with anything.”

“Wait, what about Nagi? Isn’t he with you guys?” Reo said, and although he directed it to Isagi, you could feel your ears perking up at the mention of Nagi, who was another one of your favorite players, albeit not on the levels of Reo or Barou.

“He was supposed to meet up with us, but he overslept, and then he saw an arcade on the way, so he stopped in there,” Isagi said.

“Reo, I bet you have Nagi’s location on your phone at all times, right?” Bachira said. He was met with a nod from Reo. “Then I say we use that to go and find him!”

“An arcade day does sound like a blast,” Yukimiya said.

“Thanks for the invite, but I think I’m going to stay back and spend the day with my girlfriend,” Karasu said, putting a particular emphasis on the last word and giving Aryu a dirty look when he did so.

“She can come, too!” Bachira said. “On one condition: she has to be my partner for rhyming ping-pong.”

“That’s a fair deal in my books,” your best friend said, although you knew she had no interest in rhyming ping-pong nor in an arcade day. The two of you had been friends for so long that you could read her easily, and today was no different; to you, if not to anyone else, it was painfully obvious that she was going along with Bachira’s plan only because she wanted to help you, because the prospect of Reo, Nagi, and Isagi all in one place was basically the biggest opportunity you had been presented with since she had approached you with the spare ticket to the game.

“Then I guess we’re off to the arcade,” Karasu said. “Lead the way, Reo.”

“Follow me,” Reo said, holding up his phone, which displayed the elusive Nagi’s location on the screen. You all did as he commanded, allowing him to walk in front and breaking into smaller sub-groups as you made your way to the arcade. Your best friend hung back with Karasu, as was to be expected, while Yukimiya joined Reo so that they could actually talk about the economics of Blue Lock, which was what they had planned to do during the meeting that you had crashed. Aryu and Tokimitsu flanked you as Aryu described every single step he took in the shower, and a few paces behind you, Chigiri and Bachira argued over which arcade games were the most fun to play. Isagi was doing his best to mediate, while Otoya was egging them both on in turn, because of course he was. 

He was such a contrary person. One wouldn’t expect it just from looking at him, but he really was that sort, always itching for some kind of discord, some kind of chaos — he must’ve thrived in it. No wonder he was so fond of banging into your life in his ungraceful way; he probably derived something like entertainment from it.

“Did you get that, Y/N?” Aryu said. You had reached the door to the arcade, and he was looking at you expectantly. You had been too taken with listening to Chigiri, Bachira, Isagi, and Otoya to actually comprehend what Aryu was saying, and you squirmed under the weight of his gaze, which had the kind of gravity to it that made you think he was privy to some information that he didn’t plan on sharing but which he found entirely amusing regardless.

“Yes, of course,” you said, and even though the lie was entirely unconvincing, he only nodded, sweeping inside of the arcade without another word.

At first, it seemed like Reo must’ve gotten the wrong location, but then, rounding the corner, you saw Nagi sitting at one of the booths, controls in his hands, his sweet face scrunched into a frown as he shot down the enemy NPCs without flinching. You all waited for a second, but when he didn’t notice you standing behind him, Karasu wrestled him into a headlock with a chuckle.

“There you are, pain-in-the-ass gamer prince!” he said, messing with Nagi’s hair as Nagi whined in protest. “You’re going to lose all of your friends, you jerk!”

“Caught red-handed,” Reo said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in a manner not too dissimilar to an exhausted mother. “Classic Nagi.”

“Now that we’ve found him, it’s time to party!” Bachira said. “Tokimitsu, let’s go play darts!”

“Okay!” Tokimitsu said. You watched them go before trying to come up with something that you could do without embarrassing yourself. You weren’t the best with the arcade games, so you didn’t want to go for one of the complicated machines that Nagi seemed to prefer, because the likelihood that you’d just look like a fool in front of him was high.

“I’m heading over to the claw machine,” you said, as that was likely a safe bet, and in a worst-case scenario, you would at least get a plushie out of it. “Wanna come?”

You were talking to your best friend, but for some reason, Karasu, Aryu, and Otoya took this as an open invitation, coming along with you as you navigated towards the claw machine. You wrinkled your nose, because you had been hoping to have a moment alone to regroup and perhaps get another one of your best friend’s pep talks, which would’ve done a world of good for your rapidly dwindling confidence, yet now the very cause of your stress was strolling along at Karasu’s side without a care in the world.

In the middle of the claw machine was a panda plushie, and your eyes widened when you realized how similar it was to the one you had slept with all through your childhood. Your mother had accidentally thrown it away when your family had moved, right after you graduated elementary school, and although she had apologized fervently and scoured the internet for a suitable replacement, she had never managed to find one quite like it. You had long ago pushed it aside, pretending like you didn’t care, but now that you were faced with a near-replica, you were surprised to find your heart was twinging at the familiarity.

Your first attempt was, unfortunately, an abysmal failure. The claw gave out right before you were able to drop the plushie in the chute, probably because you were out of practice, as you didn’t typically go to the arcade unless you were forced to. Your hands must’ve wavered, your grip too weak or arms too unsteady; brushing it off, you took a deep breath and inserted another quarter into the machine, rolling your shoulders before trying again.

However, your second attempt went much like the first, the panda rolling back into the pile with the rest, its gleaming black-button eyes peering at you innocently, its paws perched atop the head of a brown dog. You swallowed, and even though you should’ve by all rights given up by now, you were so attached to the idea of this plushie that you couldn’t bring yourself to. Dropping your last quarter into the slot, you thought that there was a real merit to that old saying — third time’s the charm, or whatever. 

Yet, inexplicably, the exact same thing happened again. Just a few centimeters too early, the claw gave out, leaving you out of quarters and without a plushie alike.

“This has got to be rigged!” you said, smacking the glass of the machine and glaring accusingly at the panda. There was no way you had failed three times. You weren’t the greatest, but you weren’t nearly that bad! The only explanation was that the arcade had somehow tampered with the machine so that nobody could get any of the prizes.

“Move out of the way,” Otoya said, nudging you and taking the controls with the kind of ease that could only be borne of deep familiarity. You gaped at him, too confused to yell at him for his rude takeover and the way his upper arm was pressing against your own. “Let me show you how the masters get it done.”

“You call yourself a claw-machine master?” your best friend said critically. “What, do you practice or something?”

“Girls love it when you win stuffed animals for them,” Otoya said, fishing out a quarter from his coat pocket and inserting it into the machine. “Check out my flow!”

You were dumbfounded as he grabbed the exact plushie you wanted within seconds, expertly maneuvering it towards the chute with an intense kind of concentration.

“I never put you down as someone with this type of functional glam,” Aryu said, pressing his face against the glass of the machine. “I sincerely repent for the underestimation!”

“You really are a master,” your best friend breathed. She wasn’t wrong, exactly — Otoya was skillful, his fingers stable and face blank as he ensured the plushie was perfectly within the grasp of the claw. You would’ve complimented him if it wasn’t so infuriating that he was good at this, too.

“Stop shaking the machine, idiots, you’ll make him mess up,” Karasu said, pulling the two of them away by the backs of their collars, although he, too, seemed enthralled by Otoya’s prowess.

Right before the machine went dark and his turn ended, he lined the claw up with the chute, pressing the release button and snickering when the plushie dropped down it perfectly, without even a catch. Bending over to retrieve it, he brandished it in front of him, his expression unchanging, bar for a slight glimmer in his eyes.

“Bam,” he said, tossing it at you. “Ninja skills.”

It hit you in the face and fell to the ground, which drew a chuckle out of Karasu and was the cherry on the top of the entire event. How was it that you hadn’t managed to even get close, and yet Otoya had done it so effortlessly? He was completely unfazed, watching you as you crouched to pick up the panda, tucking it under your arm and praying your face conveyed the depths of your displeasure.

“You better not find yourself anywhere near the dartboards!” you said, already fantasizing about all of the things you could do with a set of darts and a target shaped like him. “I’m warning you, I have a bad aim, so look out!”

With that, you decided to join the darts competition Bachira had set up, hugging your stuffed animal as you stomped off, keeping your fingers crossed that Otoya would get the hint and stay far, far away from you for the rest of the day.

When you reached the area where the darts were being played, you were treated with two separate versions of the game being conducted concurrently. To the left, Nagi was standing in front of the board, his arms spread and his back to Bachira, Isagi, and Chigiri as the three of them took turns throwing darts in his direction, apparently to ‘punish’ him for standing them up or something.

“Hey, Y/N!” This was Tokimitsu, who was in the game on the right, along with Yukimiya and Reo. “Do you want to play with us?”

“If you guys don’t mind,” you said, waiting for Reo’s response specifically, thinking that this would probably be a good way of judging what he thought of you.

“Not at all!” Yukimiya said.

“It’s a bit late, but darts isn’t the kind of game where that matters,” Reo said.

“We’re not keeping score too closely, anyways,” Tokimitsu said. “So it’s not a problem!”

“If that’s the case, then sure,” you said. You had nothing better to do, and even though Reo was obviously lukewarm about you joining, Yukimiya and Tokimitsu, at least, seemed happy about your arrival, so you vowed to stay close to them for the most part.

“Who’s up next?” Reo said.

“It’s my turn, but I don’t mind if Y/N takes it,” Yukimiya said, smiling at you kindly and handing you a dart. You took it gratefully, squinting one eye closed and throwing it at the board, cheering when it hit one of the rings with a higher point value.

“Nice job!” Tokimitsu said.

“Yes, well done,” Reo said. “If you had been playing from the start, you’d probably be in the lead.”

“Thanks!” you said, stepping backwards so Yukimiya had space to go. “I was at the claw machine for a bit, which is why I’m late.”

“Is that where you got that stuffed animal?” Reo said, pointing at the panda you were cradling. Delighted by the chance to actually have a conversation with him, you nodded eagerly.

“Yes! I actually used to have one just like this when I was kid, but it ended up in the trash a while back. Seeing it here in the arcade was kind of like destiny in that sense,” you said.

“You must be really good at the claw machine if you managed to get something that big,” Reo said, writing down Yukimiya’s score and motioning for Tokimitsu to take his place. “I’ve been here with Nagi before, and it’s almost definitely rigged or something. Neither of us have ever won anything from it.”

“Isn’t it?” you said, overjoyed by his admission that both he and Nagi had struggled as well. “Well, actually, I wasn’t able to do it myself, so Otoya had to…but all’s well that ends well, right?”

Reo actually laughed at this, handing the scorecard to Yukimiya. You blinked, wondering what he possibly could’ve found funny in that, but he didn’t elaborate much, beyond simply saying: “Otoya, huh?”

“I guess he’s not entirely useless,” you said. “But that’s a single redeeming quality in a whole host of negative ones, so it doesn’t change anything.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, and you didn’t know why, but funnily enough, it sounded like he didn’t believe you in the slightest.

At some point in the tournament, your best friend and Karasu wandered over to where you were, taking in the scenery while doing their level best not to be the second-most disgusting couple to ever walk the face of this planet — the first, of course, being Otoya and whatever girl he had gone to that movie with.

“Who’s winning?” your best friend said.

“I think Yuki is up right now,” Reo said after evaluating the tally marks on the scorecard. “Although Tokimitsu’s catching up. It’s super close. Could be anyone’s game.”

“Now that you’re here, though, let’s go play rhyming ping-pong!” Bachira said, dropping the darts in his hands and batting his eyelashes at your best friend, who had after all promised she’d play with him.

“Who will we play against, though?” she said. 

“Nagi, for one,” Bachira said. You hoped that he didn’t volunteer you to be Nagi’s partner; as much as you would’ve loved to be associated with him in that way, you were awful at ping-pong, and you sensed that dragging Nagi down in a match against his friends wasn’t exactly the way to his heart.

“I don’t want to,” Nagi said. Bachira teasingly waved a dart towards him, which made Nagi’s sleepy frown deepen and his shoulders slump. “Okay, I will.”

“Then Tabito can be your teammate,” your best friend said.

“You’re challenging me?” Karasu said. “You’re going to regret that. Prepare to lose.”

“Bachira and I won’t let you get even a point, right, Bachira?” she shot back.

“That’s right!” Bachira said, high-fiving her and then dashing ahead as you all made your way over to where the ping-pong tables were at various speeds. You didn’t have any particular desire to get there before anyone else, so you walked at a leisurely pace, finding yourself alongside Hyoma Chigiri, whose older sister you had sat with during Blue Lock’s game against the U-20s. You and your best friend had kept in touch with Koyuki in the days following the match, so Hyoma seemed like far more of a friendly face than the rest, even though you had never actually met him.

“My sister told me that the two of you are friends,” he said when he noticed that you both had fallen into step. “It’s nice to meet you…Y/N?”

“Yup, and likewise! Your sister is very sweet,” you said, and you weren’t just saying that to be polite — Koyuki had been kind enough to listen to your ramblings, although you had hardly known one another at the time, and even now she would check in and ask you how things were going with regards to your quest for a boyfriend.

“She is,” Chigiri said, leaning on the wall next to you as you watched Karasu, Bachira, Nagi, and your best friend get into position for rhyming ping-pong.

“Are we starting?” Nagi said.

“Yeah, you can serve. Do you know how to play?” Karasu said.

“Not really,” Nagi said, and his dour voice suggested he didn’t much care, either. 

“Whenever you hit the ball, you have to say a word that the other team can rhyme to, and when they return the serve, they have to come up with that rhyme and say it,” Bachira said. “Pretty easy, right?”

“It’ll be a simple win,” your best friend said, tossing her hair. “I’m first in the class for Modern Literature, so I know a lot of words.”

“Don’t underestimate Nagi,” Reo said, his pointer finger in the air for emphasis. “He may look like little more than a typical idiot slacker, but he actually came second in our year without studying at all.”

“I’m so torn,” you said, glancing between the two teams. On the one hand, there was Nagi, who, while no Reo, was certainly someone you’d never mind dating, but on the other, there was your best friend, who you had known for years. “Who do I root for?”

“Why’s it a question?” Chigiri said, giving you an odd look. “Wouldn’t you want to root for your best friend?”

“You wouldn’t get it,” you said, rolling your eyes, though it was mostly without malice. After all, it wasn’t like you wanted Chigiri to get it — the last thing you needed was Nagi finding out you thought he was attractive. You were fairly certain that that wouldn’t go well, especially if he came to know of it from someone else.

“Hmph,” Chigiri said. “Whatever.”

“Okay, are both sides ready?” Yukimiya said. He was the most impartial, given that he was friends with pretty much everyone on an equal level, so he had been chosen as the referee. Both teams nodded, and he whistled. “Rhyming ping-pong, begin! Your serve, Nagi!”

“Um,” Nagi said, tossing the ball in the air and tapping it with his paddle. “Orange?”

Yukimiya whistled again as you and Chigiri burst into laughter. “Out! Team Bachira wins!”

“What was that?” Karasu screeched as Bachira cheered before hurriedly saying something about karaoke and disappearing with Isagi and Reo.

“He must’ve gotten nervous in the face of Bachira and I’s combined prowess,” your best friend said.

“Not really. I just didn’t wanna play,” Nagi said.

“Is he always like this?” you whispered to Yukimiya as Karasu grabbed Nagi in his second headlock of the day. Nagi, for his part, was entirely unruffled, hanging limply in Karasu’s arms like a rag-doll.

“Nagi? Yeah, pretty much,” Yukimiya said. “He means well, but he’s generally one of the most unmotivated people you’ll meet. It’s not to say he isn’t kind or anything; he’s sweet, just lazy.”

“I see,” you said, weighing whether this trait could be considered endearing or irritating.

“Can we go see what Reo and the others are doing?” Nagi said, cutting into the conversation with a yawn. 

“Bachira said they were going for karaoke,” your best friend reminded everyone. “Maybe we should find Otoya and Aryu before joining them, though.”

“How about just Aryu?” you suggested, cheering up at the prospect of ditching Otoya for good and leaving him stranded in the arcade.

“I’ll text them,” Yukimiya said, just as the door creaked open. You sighed when Otoya peeked his head in, which earned you a slight eye roll from him but nothing more.

“No need. We’ve been looking for you guys for a while,” he said.

“Such unglam conduct, disappearing like that,” Aryu said.

“Sorry!” Tokimitsu said, covering his eyes with his hands in shame. Aryu patted him on the head comfortingly.

“Since we’re all here now, we should be good to head to karaoke,” Yukimiya said.

“Karasu and I are going to do a duet,” Otoya declared as you walked towards where Isagi, Reo, and Bachira were apparently setting up for the rest of you.

“Hell yeah,” Karasu snickered. “We’ll knock everyone’s socks off. They’re not ready.”

“What song?” Tokimitsu said, in a rare show of unwavering confidence — although he immediately winced, which kind of detracted from the unprecedented lack of stuttering and apologizing. 

“Something with a lot of belting,” Otoya mused. You cringed at the mental image; you had heard Karasu sing before, and it wasn’t pretty. You doubted Otoya was any better, and if anything he was likely worse, so the thought of the two of them screaming out the lyrics to My Heart Will Go On or something like that was akin to torture.

“Please don’t,” you said. “I didn’t bring ear plugs, and I do value my hearing.”

“Wait a second,” your best friend said, right before either Karasu or Otoya could retort. “Hey, Tabito, Yukimiya — isn’t that Aiku from the U-20 squad?”

“Huh?” Karasu said.

“It is!” Yukimiya said. “He’s talking to Reo, Isagi, and Bachira, too. That’s unexpected.”

“Looks like the whole gang’s here, in fact,” Karasu said, cracking his knuckles in what I was sure he thought was a menacing move.

“A fight?” Nagi said, which was the most interested you had ever heard him be in anything. He gazed at the U-20 squad with large, sleepy eyes, cocking his head slightly when they scowled back.

“Could be. I’m stoked,” Otoya said, and then, in an act beyond your comprehension, he struck what you could only describe as a pose from a ninja anime. You took it in with amazement, waiting for him to blush or realize what a clown he looked like, but when he did not, you dissolved into a fit of giggles, unable to take him seriously — not that you took him seriously in the first place, but this was just another addition to the long list of reasons why he was an idiot.

“Need backup, Isagi?” Yukimiya said, and although he was inadvertently threatening the others, the genial smile on his face didn’t drop for a second. “We’ve got you.”

“Ah, but don’t expect anything from me!” your best friend said with a peace sign. “I’ll cheer for you from the corner, though.”

“A girl? Hello—” Aiku began, though he was immediately interrupted by Karasu.

“Nope, don’t even think about it,” he said. You almost felt bad for him, considering how busy he had been defending his relationship to the rest, but then you remembered that he was friends with Otoya and figured that this was just his karma.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Aiku said with a shrug.  

“What are you all doing here?” another one of the U-20 boys said. You didn’t remember his name, as you hadn’t paid attention to any of the others on the field during the game; it was probably something irrelevant, though, or else it would’ve been mentioned.

“Likely the same thing as you,” Chigiri said, which really should’ve been obvious.

“But in a more glam way, naturally,” Aryu added. This wasn’t quite as obvious, considering you still didn’t really understand what he meant when he talked about ‘glam’, but it was probably his way of complimenting you all, so you didn’t argue.

“The fuck? Don’t think I won’t mess you up, freak!” the U-20 player said.

“Freak?” Aryu said. “Say that again, I dare you!”

“How about we settle this over a game of bowling?” Aiku said, lifting his hands in the air as a calming gesture. “That way, none of us get in trouble with our coaches for accidentally injuring ourselves.”

“Fine by us,” Yukimiya said. “We’ll beat you either way.”

“I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to watch you all pummel each other,” your best friend, who was the first to jump to insults but tended to cower from violence, agreed.

“Same,” you said before a genius idea occurred to you. “Though I wouldn’t mind too much if you roughed Otoya up a bit…”

“Hey!” Otoya said, straightening and turning to face you, his brows low over his eyes. You folded your arms over your chest and waited for him to say something further, but evidently, he decided it wasn’t worth it, because with a scoff, he turned his attention back to the others.

“The ladies have spoken,” Aiku said. “Bowling it is!”

With that, you all trudged to the nearby bowling alley. Your best friend was talking to Karasu, so you were left to shove your hands in your pockets and wander along by yourself as you often did, your thoughts going down trailing paths, the silence serving as an effective conduit.

In the time you had been hanging out with the Blue Lock players, what had you really accomplished? The only ones who could stand you were the ones you would not or could not date; the ones you were actually interested in obviously wanted nothing to do with you, and in truth, you couldn’t blame them.

Raising the panda plushie Otoya had won for you up in the air, you waited for its shiny black eyes to reflect some kind of answer to you. Of course, they didn’t, so with a heavy exhale, you held it to your chest, tucking your chin over it, thinking that maybe the steady pressure would dissipate the choking sensation creeping into your throat.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the bowling alley was that, right next to the lane that Karasu and the others had picked for you, there was a boy bowling all on his own. His enormous back was to you all, but there was something familiar about his spiky dark hair, and when he successfully got a strike and turned to retrieve a new ball, you gasped.

“Psst!” you said, shaking your best friend on the shoulder. “Check it out! It’s Shoei Barou!”

“He’s bowling all by himself?” she said, not even questioning you. “Huh, that’s a little startling. The more you know, I guess.”

“It’s kind of cute, if I’m being honest,” you said, trying to come up with the words to explain what you meant. “Like, oh my gosh, you’re a friendless loner! I need you so badly.”

That made sense enough in your mind, but your best friend clearly wasn’t impressed. That was probably a good thing; from what you had heard, it usually didn’t go well when two friends liked the same guy, and you were glad that your entirely opposite tastes meant you avoided that situation entirely, even if it did lead to this type of disconnect every now and again.

“There’s a lid for every pot,” she said eventually. “Well, what’s your plan? You’ve got Reo, Barou, Nagi, and Isagi all in one room. Who’re you going to go for?”

You were about to tell her that it didn’t matter — that no matter who you went for, the outcome would likely be the same, but she looked so happy that you couldn’t bring yourself to. After all, she had given up an entire day with her boyfriend just to help you, and the thought of how crestfallen she’d be if you just gave up was crushing. She’d never say anything, of course she wouldn’t, but even if she thought it for a moment, it would be enough to make you feel guilty for months. It wasn’t her fault you were such a failure at — at everything.

“Let’s weigh the pros and cons. That should help us come to a proper conclusion,” you said. It was the best thing you could think of. Perhaps she’d even be able to come up with something that you hadn’t yet considered, in which case you were all ears.

“Got it,” she said. “Cons: Reo finds you super immature for fighting with Otoya, Nagi doesn’t seem to care about you one way or another, Isagi is much more interested in hanging out with Bachira and Chigiri than trying to talk to you, and you haven’t even met Barou yet.”

That was about what you were thinking, but coming from her, it all sounded even worse. Koyuki had cheered you up during the game, but she couldn’t change the truth of the matter, which was that you had never had a chance in the first place. Whatever additional luck you had gained via your connection to Karasu was canceled out by Otoya’s presence, and so it was with trepidation that you next spoke.

“And, uh, the pros?”

“Uh….at least Nagi’s opinion of you isn’t bad?” she said. “And you haven’t had the chance to make a terrible impression on Barou yet.”

“That’s it?” you said. If even she with her keen eye hadn’t been able to pick up anything that was actually in your favor, then you supposed you might as well just give up now and go home. A nap in your bed, your actual bed, not the one you were sleeping in at your aunt’s place, was sounding more and more appealing, least of all because you could cry there where no one would hear you.

“Sorry,” she said. “But kind of. It’s not looking good.”

“What do I do, then?” you said. Your voice sounded too close to hinting at what you were really feeling, so you forced yourself to dramatize your feelings, romanticize them, the way you always did. “Is it time for me to give up on my dreams? Am I destined to be single forever? Will the closest I get to a wedding be in the form of attending yours as a bridesmaid?”

“Don’t be pessimistic,” she said, meaning you had been successful. “There’s always Aiku. He seems like he’d take anything on legs for a date or two.”

Aiku was standing next to Otoya, which completely detracted from his handsome face, and the two of them were flirting with a pair of girls, which completely detracted from his kind personality. He was exactly the kind of guy you had been told to avoid for as long as you could remember, and you exchanged looks with your best friend.

“I’d rather die alone,” you said, only half in jest. 

“That kind of relationship wouldn’t last,” she affirmed. “Don’t worry. I’ll ask Tabito if he can introduce you to Barou. He’s likely your best bet at this point.”

“You may be right about that,” you said, following after her as she made her way to where Karasu, Barou, and the others were sitting, vowing that you would do everything in your power to make it work out this time. Maybe Reo was lost cause, and maybe Nagi and Isagi were, too, but Barou couldn’t be. He couldn’t be. 

All you had to do was avoid Otoya, and given the size of the bowling alley, that wouldn’t be too difficult. Yes, you could do that, and then—

“You’re the girls from the edits!”

You stopped in your tracks as someone tapped you on the shoulder, her eyes sparkling as she looked at you with her hands clasped together.

“Yeah, we are,” your best friend said in response to the other girl, who was the one that had spoken. You chanced a glance at Aiku and Otoya, who both looked more than a little angry that you had accidentally interrupted their attempts at getting dates, and then a pit opened up in your stomach as the second half of that duo registered in your mind. Otoya. You had somehow happened upon the very person you had sworn, not even a few seconds ago, to avoid like the plague, lest you embarrass yourself in front of Barou, too.

“No way!” the girl in front of you said. “You and your boyfriend are my sister and her boyfriend’s profile pictures!”

At first, you thought she must be talking to your best friend, but when she kept her attention on you, you bit your lower lip, trying to discern what she meant.

“Boyfriend?” you said unsurely. “I’m single, though?”

Single against your will, of course, but nevertheless single, which was why you were so puzzled.

“The guy you gave the middle finger to at the Blue Lock vs U-20 match! Aren’t you two dating?” she said.

“No!” you and Otoya said at the same time, understanding crashing over you like a tidal wave. When you noticed that he, too, had denied it, and rather vehemently at that, you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Wait, I didn’t recognize you because of the hat, but you’re the confused player that she flipped off!” the girl said to him. “Can we get a picture of the two of you together? We’re guaranteed to go viral if we can post something like that!”

“Oh, boy,” your best friend said. “Aiku, you seem like a nice guy, so I’m going to advise you to run right about now.”

“What?” he said.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” she said before dashing off, right as you finished processing the girl’s request.

“You…want me to take a picture…with him?” you said.

“The sentiment is mutual,” Otoya said.

“Yes, please!” the girl said. 

“But why?” you said, looking over your shoulder towards where Barou was standing and yelling at Nagi. He took no note of you, but who knew how long that would last? How long would it take before he saw you doing something stupid, as you were apparently prone to doing when you were around Otoya? 

“Just be quick,” Otoya said, standing stiffly beside you and plastering a smile on his face. Out of the corner of his mouth, he muttered to you, “Come on, let’s get this over with. They’ll make a big deal out of it if we don’t.”

“I’m going to kill you,” you said through your teeth, pretending to grin as the girl took out her phone and began to take photos of you, cooing all the while. “You’re just going along with it because you want her.”

“So what?” he said.

“Could the two of you get closer?” she said. “It doesn’t even look like you like each other.”

“Yeah, normally when people flip each other off, that’s the reason,” you said as Otoya wrapped an arm around your shoulders. It was heavy and warm, and to boot, he smelled pleasantly sweet, not like grass at all. You couldn’t explain it, but for some reason, that was the most upsetting news you had ever received, so you wiggled out of his embrace, stepping on his foot for good measure. “Ugh, get off of me!”

“What is your problem?” he said.

“You better stay a minimum of two bodies away from me at all times, you contagious little spore! I don’t want to be infected with the green hair disease!” you snapped. 

“There’s so many things wrong with what you just said, I’m not sure where I should begin,” he said. “For one, I may have been a horrible student, but even I know that hair color isn’t contagious!”

“Oh, you didn’t need to mention that you were a horrible student, it’s more than clear!” you said, aware even as you said it that you were doing it again. What was it about him, that you were driven to such irrationality? What was it about Otoya that made you act this way, and why couldn’t you stop? Whatever it was, it only made you hate him more. 

“As clear as your inability to get a boyfriend?” he said. “Because that’s pretty clear.”

“Uh, I think we have enough pictures,” the girl said nervously, although she went ignored by you and Otoya alike.

“Seriously?” you said. “Well, you—!”

“Alright, guys, enough causing a scene,” a soft voice said, and then there were warm hands clasping your shoulders. “Come on…Y/N, was it? Barou’s making me get drinks for everyone before I leave, so help me carry them back. Otoya, Yukimiya’s looking for you. I think he has to ask you something.”

“Ah, sure, Isagi,” Otoya said, padding over to where the others were sitting and attempting to school their expressions into masks of indifference from the varying degrees of shock they had been twisted into. Isagi waited for him to be seated before steering your around the corner, and you were too astonished to protest as you got into the soda line.

“You’re a funny person,” Isagi said as you waited in the queue. “I can’t believe how much you detest Otoya. It’s almost out of the realms of probability. Did you guys date before or something?”

“Don’t flatter him,” you said, albeit weakly, your head spinning at how carried away you had gotten. “He’d never be so fortunate.”

“Hm,” Isagi said. “So it’s just a commonplace dislike.”

“Pretty much,” you said. 

“Maybe a little more than commonplace,” he added with a wry smirk. “I don’t think that a typical enmity leads to a shouting match in a bowling alley.”

“Were we shouting?” you said.

“Otoya’s pretty quiet, so for him, yeah, I’d say it was,” Isagi said. “You know, it’s kind of incredible that you’re able to rile him up like that.”

“Why is that?” you said.

“We like to joke that Otoya’s face is made of stone,” Isagi mused. “Not in the way that Rin’s is, because that’s an entirely different scenario, but he’s just so unflappable that it’s rare to see him as anything but straight-faced. He’s the go-with-the-flow type, and he doesn’t care enough about anything to ever raise his voice. The fact that you make him mad is really something.”

“My secret talent,” you said, pretending to chuckle. “Pissing Otoya off almost as much as he pisses me off. It’s only fair; I mean, he keeps ruining things for me, so the least he can do is be bothered for it in return.”

Miraculously, Isagi didn’t question what you meant by that. He only nodded, reading off the names of the drinks Barou had written for him in a list and handing them to you, telling you to hang in there and then slipping out of the alley before you could ask him what you were supposed to be hanging in there for.

“Isagi’s right,” Karasu said the next day, after you had recounted the events in the bowling alley. Using his straw to stir the leftovers of your best friend’s milkshake, he took a contemplative sip. “Otoya really isn’t the kind of person who gets upset at anything, so it’s out of the ordinary for him to actually be mad at you.”

“I always knew you were special,” your best friend joked, biting off the end of a French fry. The two of them were sitting across from you at a restaurant near your aunt’s apartment, listening to your version of the argument you had had with Otoya and the mysterious words Isagi had left you with.

“I couldn’t tell you why, though,” Karasu said. 

“Aren’t you guys best friends?” you said.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I’ve known him for years or anything. Plus, I avoid talking about stuff like that with him. The more I learn about his habits with girls, the lower my opinion of him falls, so I try not to think about it, for the sake of our friendship and all,” Karasu said.

“Why’re you friends with him in the first place, then?” your best friend said.

“Believe it or not, he’s one of the saner people in Blue Lock. They were all being nice to you yesterday, but rest assured, they’re completely different on the field,” Karasu said. 

“In a bad way?” you said.

“Majorly,” he said. “Speaking of which, I heard that you’re into Isagi and Barou?”

“Don’t forget Nagi and Reo,” your best friend added. Thankfully, Karasu didn’t tease you for the diverse set of options, only considering it carefully.

“You can give up on Nagi and Isagi. Not your fault, but they’re, uh…weird?” Karasu said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you said.

“Let’s just say that neither of them are the type that I’d want anyone I know dating,” he said. “Nagi’s cute and all, but unless he really loves you, you’d end up being more of a mother than a girlfriend.”

“Automatic no,” your best friend. “What about Isagi? What’s wrong with him?”

“What isn’t wrong with him?” Karasu said rhetorically. When neither of you laughed, he pouted. “Never mind. Look, just trust me on that one.”

“That’s not an issue, though! Reo and Barou were her favorites to begin with,” your best friend said.

“You can’t really go wrong with either of them. Barou’s a major ass to play with, but he’s chill otherwise, I think,” Karasu said. His clinical analysis of your prospects was, in a way, comforting — he, at least, didn’t think you were entirely doomed. And wasn’t analysis his whole thing, anyways? So he was probably onto something here.

“Is there one that would be better than the other, though?” you said.

“Er, given recent events, maybe Barou might be a bit more of a blank slate. So to speak,” Karasu said. He didn’t mention Otoya, but all three of you knew that that was who he was referring to. You wondered if there’d ever be a time when you didn’t think of him so readily, when his name wasn’t linked with yours so inextricably, the way it was online, where the photos of you two together were already making the rounds.

“Barou’s a great choice!” your best friend said encouragingly. “He can probably carry you with one arm, remember?”

“Is that what you came to my game to talk about? You suck,” Karasu said, tsk’ing at your best friend. “But yes, as someone who’s had to train with Barou, he definitely could.”

“Wow,” you said.

“That’s what you said when you first saw him,” your best friend pointed out. “‘Wow.’ It’s basically your love language. Okay, Tabito! That’s settled, then. We’ll get Y/N and Barou to have a date whenever you’re on your next break from Blue Lock!”

“Don’t we have to ask Barou first?” you said.

“He’ll say yes, don’t worry,” Karasu said. “He’s not actually that popular. If he doesn’t, I’ll find someone else for you, don’t worry.”

“Someone good,” you said.

“Of course,” he said. “Whoever it is, I’ll probably have to go on double dates with them, so trust me, I’ll be picky.”

“Thanks,” you said, because Karasu actually was the persnickety type, so if he was promising it, then it would happen in that way.

The rest of the break flew by. In an effort to avoid third-wheeling your best friend and Karasu, you took to exploring Tokyo by yourself, sitting in cafes and catching up on your winter homework, studying for exams while sipping on tea in a window seat. Maybe it was a little lonely, but you liked it, and if anything, you were productive, which you couldn’t always say you were.

Before you knew it, you and your best friend were packing up to go home. As much as you had enjoyed your vacation and the time off from school, you were glad to be going back to normalcy — everything about the trip, especially the day you had spent with the Blue Lock boys, was more like a fever dream in hindsight. The only things reminding you that it was real were the stuffed panda sitting amongst the nest of pillows in your bed and the occasional comments from your classmates, who all found it as hard to believe as you did that you were some kind of internet micro-celebrity.

“You’re the last person I would’ve expected to become famous by accident,” one of Karasu’s teammates from the high school club told you, the first day you were back at school. Even though Karasu himself was gone, his teammates and friends still sat with you and your best friend’s group. You all had amalgamated into a larger collective at some point, and even though you weren’t particularly close with any of them, you’d still count them as more than acquaintances.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you said.

“Look, all I’m saying is her, I get,” he said, pointing at your best friend. “But you’ve always been way happier just hanging out in the background and letting other people be the center of attention.”

“Maybe I want to be the center of attention every now and then,” you said placidly, without a hint of sharpness. 

“You? No way,” he said, guffawing as if it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. “That was funny, Y/N.”

“Ha, ha,” you said. “Anyways, like you said, it was by accident. Most of the blame can be assigned to that squeezed-out tube of toothpaste, Otoya.”

“Are you talking about Otoya?” another one of your friends said with a squeal, leaning away from your best friend and fluttering her eyelashes at you. “Y/N, you’re insanely lucky. He’s so cute.”

“Seriously?” you said. “You watched the entire game and decided that he was the one? You need your eyes checked if that’s the case.”

“He’s really good-looking!” she insisted. “If you don’t want him, I’ll gladly take him.”

“He’s all yours,” you said. “And don’t ever suggest I might want him again.”

It was a couple of months later that your best friend told you the Blue Lock boys were going on break again, and that this time, unlike the last, you had a confirmed reason to go along with her to meet Karasu — Shoei Barou had agreed to take you out for a date.

“There’s no way!” you said, holding your phone in between your ear and your shoulder as you threw as many clothes as you could fit into your small suitcase. “I mean, seriously, how did Karasu convince him?”

“He didn’t have to try very hard,” your best friend said. “It’s like he mentioned: Barou’s not actually that popular. I mean, after the Neo-Egoist League, yeah, he has a lot of fans, but back when he was in high school, he didn’t have too many friends, so as soon as Karasu brought it up, he was alright with it.”

“That makes sense,” you said, butterflies beating frantic wings into your intestines as you wrapped a pair of shoes in plastic and tucked them into your bag’s front pocket. “Tell Karasu I said thank you.”

“You can thank him by being normal at your dinner with Barou,” she said.

“Wait!” you said. “What am I even supposed to do when I’m on the date?”

“What do you mean?” she said.

“Like, what do I talk about? What do I order? What do I do with my hands while I’m sitting there? How long should I hold eye contact? Actually, should I even be holding eye contact in the first place?” you said.

“First of all, you need to relax. Especially for a first date, you’re just trying to get to know him, so think about it like hanging out with a friend and go from there. If the two of you get along, then things will flow naturally and you won’t have to think about all of this stuff,” she said.

“And if we don’t?” you said. She didn’t answer, and after a second, you snorted. “Okay, sorry, dumb question.”

“Very much so. If you don’t get along, then it’s no big deal. We’ll find someone else and work from there, but first, do me a favor: don’t go into things with any expectations, because one thing I can say for certain is that absolutely nothing will go the way you want it to — for better or for worse,” she said.

“That makes me feel worse than I did when I called you,” you said.

“I know, but it’s the truth. Like I said, it’s not always a bad thing. In fact, it’s usually good; life has a funny way of working itself out, in my experience, but that means you have to trust that whatever’s happening to you is happening for a reason,” she said.

“What if it’s hard, though? And what if the things that are happening are terrible?” you said.

“Sometimes they are,” she said thoughtfully. “But you have to get through those types of situations, too, or else you’ll never get to the good part.”

Her final exam had been rescheduled, so she would be joining you and the others in the city a couple of days later than originally anticipated, meaning that you would have to get ready and go on your date without her helping you through it. She had apologized countless times, and Karasu had even offered to ask Barou if he was willing to change your plans, but you had assured both that it was alright, even if you were panicking internally. You wanted her to do well on her test, and you didn’t want to be too much of a pain to Barou, for fear that he would give up on you entirely instead of just switching the day of the reservation.

The restaurant was fancier than you had expected, and you tugged at your sleeves, adjusting your shirt, even though nothing was wrong with it. Averting your eyes from the hostess who led you back to the table where Barou was already waiting, you slid into your chair and grabbed a menu to hide your face behind.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” you said, even though it was 7:00 exactly, which was when Karasu had told you the reservation was for.

“It’s okay,” Barou said. “I ordered water for us both. I hope that’s alright.”

“Perfectly fine,” you said. “Have you been here before?”

“No, but it has high ratings online, and it’s close to the area where Karasu said you’re staying, so I thought it was a safe bet,” he said. Nothing about his voice nor yours was natural, and after that, the two of you fell silent entirely. You obsessively read and reread the menu, although you had decided a while back what you wanted to order, and Barou picked at invisible bits of skin on his nails, his lips pursed all the while. 

For years and years, you had dreamt of what your first date would be like. You had spent so long waiting to find the perfect person, the perfect guy to be your boyfriend, and now here he was, sitting right across from you, and yet neither of you could muster up a single word to say to each other.

Even the waitress seemed weirded out when she came to drop off your waters and ask what you wanted to eat. You both started to speak at the same time, stopping and looking at each other unsurely before Barou motioned for you to go first. Once you were done, the waitress repeated your orders with a hint of incredulity. You were sure that, as soon as she got to the kitchen, she’d launch into a story about the strange couple at the table in the corner that refused to talk to one another, tittering with amusement at the bizarreness of it all. It was what you would do, if you were in her place.

“We’ve been having good weather lately,” you said when the quiet became too unbearable. “The winter was so cold, but it’s better now.”

“I’ve been inside the facility,” Barou reminded you. “So I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh,” you said. “Right.”

“It is lovely out, though,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said. “Warm.”

“Exactly,” he said, and then neither of you continued with the pitiful attempt at conversation, both waiting for the other to do something until the waitress returned with your food and you were blissfully given an excuse to keep your mouth shut. 

You ate as quickly as you could, blotting at your lips with a napkin periodically and handling your fork and knife without much finesse. Barou was the opposite, cutting his food up into meticulous pieces and taking small bites, chewing each carefully and thoroughly before swallowing. You were almost fascinated by the delicacy, which was so unlike everything you had expected from him that you couldn’t reconcile the version of him that you thought you knew and the one you were presented with.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom really quickly,” you said when you were finished with your meal and Barou was about three-quarters of the way through. He nodded, clearly relieved — at this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if he just wanted to eat his food in peace, without your fumbling presence bringing down his mood.

The bathroom was down a hallway, with the women’s room to the right and the men’s directly across from it. You didn’t actually have to use it, but you just wanted some time away from the oppressive, hefty awkwardness that was your date, so you stood in front of a well-lit mirror and fiddled with your appearance, fixing minor imperfections that nobody else would notice but served as a way for you to waste time.

When you could find nothing else to mess with, you pulled out your phone and texted your best friend a sad face. You’d explain it to her later, when she was finally here, but for now, that would have to be enough to sum up your night.

Washing your hands to rinse off the stickiness that being in a public bathroom always made you imagine, you dried them before using your shoulder to open the door, your phone in your hands as you saw your best friend had already responded with a question mark and a ‘do you want to talk about it’.

You were just about to reply to her that you would, but your inattention led you to running face-first into someone as they exited the men’s bathroom. Your phone slipped from your hands, bouncing onto the plush carpet and landing right at the feet of the person you had crashed into; you thought that you might as well die from shame instead of stooping over to retrieve it, because that really seemed like the more palatable path at the moment.

“I am so sorry!” you said, squatting to grab your phone, because dying wasn’t really an option and it would be worse if you just stood there.

“No worries,” he said, already scooping it up and extending his hand towards you before freezing, your phone still dangling in his grasp. “Hold on a second. Y/N?”

Your jaw dropped as you locked eyes with Otoya, who was, for some reason, standing across from you in the dim corridor, your phone in his hands and his eyebrows raised. A million questions crossed your mind just then: what was he doing here? Why now? Was he with someone, and if so, who? But one was forefront, and before you could stop yourself, you were grabbing onto his shoulders, your fingertips digging into the fabric of his white shirt, wrinkling it into small divots.

“You,” you said. “Why are you always around when things go wrong?”

“What?” he said, the way he always said everything: detached, airy, and vaguely condescending. “I don’t even know what problems you’re having right now, so how do they have anything to do with me?”

“It’s not — you don’t cause them!” you said. “You’re just…always there for them. You know how some people have a good luck charm?”

“Yeah,” he said. 

“Well, you’re my bad luck charm! You cause me difficulties without even trying, and the worst part is that I can’t even do anything about it, because you’re always there. You keep appearing! Why the hell are you even here in the first place?” you said, and then tears were pricking at your eyes, because logically, you knew Otoya was right. He had nothing to do with the fact that Barou didn’t like you, that was your fault and your fault alone, but wasn’t it easier to blame him? He was always there. He was always easier to point a finger at than yourself.

“I’m having dinner with my sister,” he said, slowly and mockingly, like you were a small child. “What about you, hm? Eating alone?”

“I—”

“Otoya?”

Before you could explain anything, you were cut off by a perplexed Barou, who was looking at you and Otoya, obviously lost by what, exactly, he was faced with. Only a second later, you understood that the position you were in was the slightest bit compromising, so you dropped your hands from his shoulders, taking a step back and brushing yourself off hastily.

“Barou?” Otoya said. “What are you doing here? Is this some kind of reunion that I’ve stumbled on? Where are the others?”

“Uh, not exactly,” Barou said.

“We’re on a date, you overgrown caterpillar,” you muttered under your breath. “Now can you fuck off?”

“A date?” he said. When Barou didn’t deny it, he chuckled. “Yikes, I’m sorry for interrupting, then — although, I wouldn’t have, if someone was watching where they were going when they were leaving the bathroom.”

“I’m sure your sister is waiting for you, so how about you get back to her and leave us alone?” you said, your smile sickly sweet. “And give me my phone back.”

“Have fun, you two,” Otoya said, dropping it into your waiting palm. “Y/N, try not to drive Barou insane, yeah? We need him to play in the U-20 World Cup.”

“Go play with box dye or whatever it is you do in your free time,” you said. “Come on, Barou. Let’s go pay and get out of here.”

“I already did,” he said. “I was just coming over to use the bathroom myself while I waited for you to come back.”

“Ah,” you said as you made your way to the door. “How much was it? I don’t mind giving you my half.”

“Forget about it,” he said. “I’m the one who asked you on a date, technically, so I’m the one who should pay.”

“Not like I was much of a date,” you said.

“Not like I was much of one, either,” he countered. “I doubt we said a total of fifty words to each other combined.”

“I’m not good at talking to people,” you said. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“You certainly didn’t have any problems talking with Otoya,” he said.

“What?” you said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you want it to mean,” he said. “How am I supposed to know? It’s just an observation. I’m not mad about it or anything, so don’t take it the wrong way.”

“You’re the one who said it, so I feel like if anyone were to know, it’d be you,” you said. “But anyways, whatever you’re thinking, it’s incorrect. Simply put, Otoya’s an asshole. A major-league jerk. He’s annoying and rude and he always acts like he’s better than me, even though he isn’t, and he shows up at the worst moments just to cause problems for me, even unknowingly, and I’d be able to forgive him if it was just once, but it’s always! And you know what? He doesn’t ever apologize, either! He doesn’t apologize and he doesn’t even think he’s done anything wrong and he’s the worst, he’s totally the worst—”

Your indignant rant petered off when you saw that, to your horror, Barou was laughing. That was the most open you had seen him all night, and you were surprised to note that he looked different when he laughed. Kinder. Less severe. Like someone you might actually get along with, if you had met him without knowing who he was.

“That’s the most I’ve heard you say, maybe ever,” he elaborated. 

“So?” you said.

“So nothing,” he said. “I’m washing my hands of this. Thank you for coming to dinner with me, Y/N. I wish you the best.”

“You, too,” you said, recognizing when to stop pushing. Barou clearly had no interest in explaining further, and in truth he probably couldn’t — he was the sort that didn’t understand emotions and relationships and other such sensitivities particularly well, at least according to Karasu. “Thank you, as well. I…had a nice night.”

Barou snorted at this before waving and telling you you should stop lying to yourself so much. You weren’t sure why he thought you were in the business of lying to yourself frequently, but he seemed convinced of it, which meant there was a chance you really were.

Your best friend and Karasu were sympathetic when they heard of how your date went, although when you mentioned Otoya, both of them exchanged looks that you could not decipher. You could not tease the meaning out of them, either, so you were left frustratingly in the dark, with only their assurances that it wasn’t anything bad.

After the disaster with Barou, you decided to swear off of dating until further notice. You doubted that there was anyone who would even want to date you, anyways, so it wasn’t a particularly difficult thing to do, and although you still felt envy stinging deep within you whenever you saw the relationships your friends were all building, you managed to choke it down far enough that you could pretend it wasn’t there.

“Y/N!” your mother shouted at you. It was a crisp Saturday morning, and you were lounging on the couch in your pajamas, watching a romance movie while eating your breakfast, since you had nothing better to do with your time. “Can you get the mail, please?”

“Sure!” you shouted back. She was expecting a check for some event she had worked at, so she had grown quite preoccupied with ensuring one of you got the mail as soon as it was delivered, and you supposed today was your turn.

Shoving your feet in a pair of slippers, you plodded down to the end of the driveway, opening the mailbox and rifling through the letters in the box in search of anything of note. For the most part, it was advertisements and newspapers, but at the very bottom of the pile, you noticed a cream envelope addressed to you.

“Was my check there?” your mother said as you returned to the house, dumping the stack of papers onto the counter and retrieving a letter-opener from the drawer it stayed in.

“Nope,” you said. “But this was.”

“What is that?” she said.

“No idea, but it says it’s for me,” you said, slicing the envelope open and unfolding its contents before frowning. “Oh.”

“What does that mean?” she said. You slid the letter across the counter to her.

“It’s an invite from the JFU,” you said. “To some ‘friends and family of Blue Lock’ gala thingie. I don’t know how I qualify as a friend or family of Blue Lock, though…”

“Maybe because you went to their first game, back against the U-20s?” your mother suggested. “They might’ve just invited everyone with seats in the Blue Lock section, given how small it was and how it was pretty much entirely family members. I doubt they were looking too closely at the names of the people they sent tickets to.”

“But that was almost two years ago, and I wasn’t there under my own name,” you said, before you immediately rolled your eyes at yourself. “Hold on. I think I know what’s happening here.”

Before she could question you further, you ran upstairs, clicking on your best friend’s contact and hitting the green call button next to her name. She picked up on the first ring, and she didn’t even wait for you to speak before bursting into laughter.

“Bitch,” you said. “Why’d you invite me to that shit?”

“I just explained to the JFU how I managed to attend a game twice,” she said innocently, although her continued laughter didn’t support her case much.

“There’s no way I’m going,” you said. “I think Blue Lock is bad for my health, or at least my pride.”

“I already told Karasu you would, and he told the others, who are all super excited to see you again!” she said.

“No, they’re not,” you said.

“Okay, well, maybe not all of them, but Tokimitsu, Aryu, Yukimiya, and Chigiri are,” she said.

“Really?” you said. “Oh. I guess if Karasu already told them I’d come, then it’ll be disappointing if I don’t.”

“Something like that, yes,” she said.

“But you still suck,” you said. “And I’m mad about it.”

“Mhm, whatever you say,” she said. “We can go shopping for clothes after lunch, if you want.”

“Fine,” you said. “I guess if you insist.”

“Yay!”

You had been expecting to have to tag along with your best friend and Karasu during the gala, given that you didn’t have a date nor any interest in procuring one, but to your surprise, none other than Aryu offered to accompany you.

“It’s just as friends, of course,” your best friend assured you as you opened yet another box of shoes, holding one against the dress you had bought and then putting it back without even trying it on when you found it didn’t quite match. “Aryu says he refuses to attend the gala with someone who doesn’t match his levels of…glam?”

“And he thinks I do?” you said.

“You have a simple, understated glam to you,” she said. “Direct quote, by the way. I have no idea what he meant, so don’t shoot the messenger.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a compliment?” you said. She shrugged.

“Nobody knows what he’s talking about half of the time,” she said. “But for what it’s worth, I think there’s nothing simple about your ‘glam.’”

“Thanks,” you said. “I appreciate it. Or, do I?”

“It’s a good thing,” she assured you, presenting you with a new box of shoes. “Try these on. They’ll go perfectly with the dress you got.”

“Woah,” you said when her words proved to be correct. “How’d you do that?”

“I’m pretty good at knowing what you need,” she said, patting you on the shoulder, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on why, but it seemed to you that in that instant, she was talking about more than shoes.

The flash of cameras blinded you as Aryu helped you out of the sparkling white car, his fingers cold against your wrist, at odds with the warmth in his grin. You fought back the urge to squeeze your eyes closed, knowing that you’d look entirely stupid in the press coverage of the event if your lids were screwed shut, and instead you did your best to maintain a serene expression, your mouth curved at the edges and your brow free of creases. Aryu offered you his arm, and you took it without a second thought, although you did giggle when he winked at you so suggestively it could not be anything but a joke.

“Is this not the most glam moment of your life?” he said, leading you up the stairs of the hotel where the gala was being held. You shook your head in amusement, gripping his forearm as hard as you could to ensure you did not trip over the velvety carpet.

“I still don’t know what you mean by that,” you said.

“It’s a functional word,” he mused, pausing so that you could pose for pictures. You followed his lead for the most part, content with being a mere accessory to his splendor, his charming ease with the media. “Means whatever your heart says it means.”

“Then yes,” you said. “I’d say this is the most glam moment of my life.”

“Miss L/N! Miss L/N, a moment please!”

A microphone was shoved in your face before you knew what was happening, and you glanced at Aryu unsurely, wondering why you had been singled out amidst all of the players and their dates, many of whom were famous models, singers, and actresses. He shrugged at you, clearly as confused as you were, and then he knocked the microphone a little further away, so that it wasn’t all but up your nose.

“Uh, yes?” you said, playing with your fingers as you smiled at the interviewer. He was a middle-aged man, his hair grey at his temples, and his grin reminded you of a wide-mouthed whale.

“You’re here with Jyubei Aryu, correct?” he said.

“I am,” you said, even though you thought it should’ve been obvious you were.

“Who’s next on your list, then?” he said. 

“What?” you said. The man leaned closer to you, holding the microphone to his lips, which were fat and trembling like slugs in repose.

“Which player will you toy with next?” he said.

“I’m not — toy with?” you sputtered, and it was only Aryu’s firm presence on your left which kept you from wavering. “What the hell are you—?”

“Will that be all, or do you have any actual questions to ask her?” Aryu said, cutting you off before you could say something terribly uncouth.

“Everyone is wondering!” the man defended, knuckles reddening around the microphone. “What are your thoughts, Aryu, sir? Are you aware of…it?”

“Of what? This ridiculous exchange?” Aryu said. “Unfortunately, I am, and furthermore, I’d like for it to be over.”

“No, the love affair between your date, Y/N L/N, and your own teammate — Eita Otoya!” he exclaimed.

“That’s none of my concern. Miss L/N agreed to come with me as a friend, so who she chooses to love is her business alone,” he said.

“Otoya?” you said. “You — I — there is no love affair!”

“There he is now,” the interviewer said with a smirk, dipped in oil and drowned in grease, lathered with satisfaction at your indignation. “You know, it seems to me like he’d disagree with that, Miss L/N.”

You shifted slightly, looking over your shoulder at the driveway, where a black car was driving off, its passenger already exited. Of course, there was your ghost, your familiar bad-luck charm, the one you could never escape from in any way that mattered, no matter how hard the both of you tried: Otoya, his hands in his pockets, his tie a pale green, the same pear shade as his eyes, which, uncomfortably and heavily, were trained on you.

Although he was at the bottom of the staircase and you were already almost at the top, you could see the way his expression was dancing, something no doubt playing at the tip of his tongue, something you wagered would be purposefully designed to infuriate you. You frowned at him, wishing he were closer, wishing he were at your side, even, so that you could tell him that he looked terrible, like a twig of mint sprung to life, that his hair was too messy for such an important event, falling haphazardly onto his pale forehead, and that he should’ve worn a darker tie, to match better with his suit.

“Come along, Y/N,” Aryu murmured, tugging you forwards and away from the interviewer, stealing your attention from Otoya. “Let’s go inside. It’s starting to rain.”

“Ah, right,” you said, shaking your head to clear it, allowing him to lead you into the hotel lobby, towards the hall where red roses bloomed in crystal vases upon the centers of the many white-draped tables. “I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

“It’s supposed to stop in an hour or two. I’m sure it’ll be over by the time we’re leaving,” he said. “Which table are we, again?”

“8,” you said without even pulling your tickets out. You had memorized them two nights ago, front and back, in a fit of nerves. This was your first time at anything more fancy than your high school graduation; you had no idea what to expect, and, considering how things tended to go for you, you had randomly become convinced that it would turn out awful and you might as well skip the event entirely. You had woken up the next morning and felt marginally better, but the damage had been done and the images of the tickets were engraved into your mind.

“Wonderful,” Aryu said as you reached your table. “This is a nice location, so I’m pleased.”

“Y/N? Oh my goodness, hi!”

Before you could sit down, you were being tackled by a red blur. You grunted as you caught Koyuki Chigiri’s body in your arms, wrapping them around her waist subconsciously. She crushed you with more force than she should’ve been able to exert, given her slight frame, and you tucked your chin on her shoulder, glad for the familiar face.

“Hi, Koyuki. Are you sitting here, too?” you said when she finally let you go, just as you were about to run out of air. She nodded at you eagerly, darting back to her seat, across from the chair Aryu had pulled out for you.

“Yup, I am! Hyoma asked me to come along with him, since he didn’t want to go through the trouble of finding an actual date and I was already invited, but I was worried I wouldn’t know anyone else and might have to spend the entire event clinging to my little brother’s sleeve,” she said.

“Nothing of the sort, don’t worry,” you said, sitting and hanging your purse on the back of your chair. “Where is Hyoma?”

“He went to see what non-alcoholic drinks they’re serving at the bar,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon!”

“He’s really been doing well this season,” you said. “Not that I keep up with soccer much, but I see highlights on social media and all. His team’s lucky to have him.”

“I’m just so pleased he’s enjoying himself again,” Koyuki said. “For a while, right after he tore his ACL, I thought he’d never enjoy soccer again. I watched him lose himself…it was the worst, because there wasn’t anything I could do about it, but I should’ve had more faith in him. He found himself again, all on his own.”

“Who did what?” This was Hyoma himself, returning with a flute of something gold and bubbly in his hand. “Oh, hey, Y/N, Aryu.”

“Hey,” you said. “What’ve you got there?”

“Sparkling apple cider,” he said with a winsome grin. “It looks like champagne, though, doesn’t it? Makes me feel a little less left out.”

“I’m sure it tastes better than anything else you might find at that bar,” you assured him.

“I’m in full agreement,” Aryu said. “In fact, I might get the same for myself. Would you like anything, Y/N?”

“You can pick,” you said. “I trust your judgement better than my own in regards to these things.”

“I’ll do my best to procure a drink worthy of you,” he said, his hair swishing behind him as he strolled in the direction Hyoma had just come from.

“What were you guys talking about?” Hyoma said once it was just the three of you.

“Nothing important. Just how excited we are to see each other again,” Koyuki said.

“And how you’re becoming quite the star recently,” you said.

“Oh,” he said, blushing and sinking in his seat a bit. “Thank you.”

“Sure, it’s only the truth,” you said.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” a rambunctious voice said, and then Karasu was plopping in the seat beside Hyoma, socking him in the arm. “What’s got little Chigiri all embarrassed?”

“Nothing, you noisy excuse for a crow,” Hyoma said, batting Karasu away half-heartedly.

“Sorry we’re late,” your best friend, sitting beside you and unfolding her napkin. “Someone was more concerned with how their hair looked than timeliness and other such factors.”

“By someone, do you mean yourself?” Karasu challenged before making his voice comically high-pitched to mock her. “Oh, Tabito, my purse doesn’t match my shoes! Oh, Tabito, I need to wear a bracelet with this or my arm will be too bare! Oh, Tabito—”

“Shut up,” she said. “Like I was saying, it was entirely his fault.”

“Uh-huh,” Karasu said. “Whatever, we made it, so in the end it’s irrelevant who was at fault. Even if it was obviously you.”

“Aryu and I just got here a few minutes ago, so you’re not really that late. Doesn’t seem like you’re the last ones in, either, so don’t worry about it,” you said.

“Do either of you know who else is at our table?” Koyuki said. To your surprise, Karasu nodded; though, then again, he was the type who would be aware of something like that.

“It’s Aiku and his girlfriend-of-the-month,” he said.

“Who is it this time, another singer?” Hyoma said, rolling his eyes. Aiku was infamous for being a player with a different partner for every event he attended, and you supposed this one was no different.

“Apparently, she’s a lingerie model from Sweden,” Karasu said. “He told me they met while he was visiting his dad’s side of the family.”

“Damn,” Hyoma said. “Only Aiku.”

“Only Aiku,” Karasu echoed, shaking his head. Aiku’s habits were the butts of many a joke amongst the Blue Lock boys, or so you were told, and you couldn’t blame them — everything about him teetered on the verge of insanity, just shy of utterly unbelievable, which was especially comedic given how grounded and down-to-earth he seemed to be at first glance.

“Did you hear Yukimiya proposed to his girlfriend?” Hyoma said, motioning towards where Yukimiya and his girlfriend were sitting a table with Nagi, Reo, a few others you didn’t recognize, and — you swallowed when you inadvertently made eye contact with Otoya, who was sitting on Reo’s left and spinning a spoon between his fingers, turning away before he could do something childish like stick his tongue out at you.

“Really?” Koyuki said. “Aren’t they a bit young for it?”

“He mentioned that he asked!” your best friend said. She had become friends with Yukimiya and his girlfriend somewhat by accident and shortly before she began dating Karasu, so it wasn’t a surprise that she was already informed about the news. “They’ve known each other since elementary school and have been dating since, like, junior high, so it’s not too strange.”

“He’s the kind of person who thinks through things before doing them, so it definitely wasn’t some half-baked, average decision,” Karasu said with a decisive nod that signaled the topic wasn’t up for discussion anymore.

“I’ll have to be sure to congratulate them at some point,” you said. The when Otoya’s not around was left unsaid, but given who was sitting at the table with you, you were pretty sure everyone — excepting maybe Hyoma — heard it.

“I’ll come with you when you do,” your best friend said. “I haven’t had the chance to say anything to them in person yet.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said. “I wonder what’s taking Aryu so long…”

“Is he getting drinks for the two of you?” Karasu said. You nodded. “I was just about to head over there myself, so I can check on him, if you want.”

“Yes, please,” you said.

“Ooh, get something for me,” your best friend said. Karasu tapped her on the head as he got up; you shifted in your seat, tracing the patterns in the carpet with your eyes so that you weren’t faced with his gentleness to her any longer.

“Already planning on it, don’t worry,” he said. “Tell Aiku he’s a dick when he gets here. If he does.”

Not even thirty seconds had passed by when, like a storm, Aiku and his Swedish-lingerie-model girlfriend arrived, pausing in the doorway to luxuriate in the spotlight for a second before ambling over to your table. They were the kind of couple that drew everyone’s attention to them, tall and willowy and beautiful in a manner that suited one another exactly, handsomely and painstakingly crafted to be the center of attention.

“Hello, everybody,” Aiku said magnanimously. You exchanged looks with Koyuki, who looked just as amused as you felt.

“Hello, Aiku,” your best friend said. “My boyfriend thinks you’re a dick.”

“Takes one to know one,” Aiku said, unperturbed. “Where’s he off to?”

“Him and Aryu are at the bar, where I am sure you will soon be joining them,” she said. Aiku grinned at her, the kind of white, toothy grin that was most commonly seen in photoshopped magazine commercials.

“Am I that easily read? Yeah, I’ll head over there now. Want anything, babe?” he said.

“Just water,” his girlfriend said.

“As you wish,” he said, drawing a tiny snort out of Hyoma, who immediately disguised it with a cough, his hand covering his mouth as Aiku’s girlfriend gave him a quizzical look.

“Sorry,” Hyoma said. “I cough when it rains. I’m allergic.”

“That’s a shame,” she said. “It must be difficult.”

Hyoma coughed again, clearing his throat in what sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “Very.”

“Do you think they’ll have vegan food here?” she continued. 

“Uh,” Hyoma gave you a panicked look for some reason, mouthing ‘help’, but you could only shrug, both because you had no idea what was on the menu and because you, too, had no idea why she was focusing her attention entirely on him. “Maybe?”

“Back in Sweden, we…”

Leaning around Koyuki, she continued to talk to the bewildered Hyoma, leaving Koyuki to duck closer to the table and involve herself in conversation with you and your best friend. Eventually, the Chigiri siblings swapped seats so that Hyoma could be beside Aiku’s girlfriend-of-the-month, leaving Koyuki next to Karasu’s empty seat, making your discussion about who you thought would get engaged next much more comfortable.

“I think it’s going to be Reo,” your best friend said.

“Reo? Is he with someone, then?” you said. She clicked her tongue.

“Not that we know of, but listen, he’s totally the type to use his family’s insane connections to hide any potential relationships from the media,” she said. “For all we know, he’s already married.”

“That’s actually very true,” you said.

“I know for a fact that it won’t be Hyoma,” Koyuki said.

“Why not?” you said, gesturing towards where Hyoma was listening raptly to Aiku’s girlfriend as she described the process of getting ready for a runway show. “He seems popular and friendly, plus he’s very kind.”

“He’s never been in a relationship before, and given his track record, I don’t see him getting in one anytime soon. He’s simply uninterested,” she said. “He’ll get there eventually, but he definitely won’t be the next up.”

“What about you? Who do you think?” your best friend said.

“Karasu,” you said promptly.

“But — hey!” she said. “No way!”

“He’s the only one who’s actually dating someone publicly and isn’t Aiku,” you said. “I’m saying this as much by process of elimination as anything. Besides, I’ve been planning your wedding for years now, so you better be next.”

“She has a point,” Koyuki said. “Er, about the process of elimination part.”

“You guys are crazy,” your best friend said, though the smile threatening to cross her face revealed what she really thought of the prospect.

The boys returned with your drinks in hand a little later. Aryu set a glass filled with red wine down in front of you, and you took it, idly swishing it before taking a sip. You thought that you must seem quite refined with such a beverage, so although you wouldn’t have ordered it for yourself, you drank it without complaint, despite the ensuing bitterness coating your tongue.

Glass in hand, you leaned back in your seat, observing the proceedings as if through a window. Everyone else was so caught up in their own little words that they did not notice your silence — your best friend was talking quietly to Karasu, while Aryu and Aiku reminisced over their days as rookie players of the Italian club they had started their professional careers at. Koyuki was giggling as she texted somebody on her phone, and Aiku’s girlfriend was telling Hyoma how many rollers she required for a perfect blowout; simply put, they were all happy. Every one of them belonged, to someone else if not themselves, and even though you had declared to yourself that it didn’t matter to you anymore, that never again would you preoccupy yourself with something as foolish as dating, you could not help a lump from forming in the back of your throat, because it was a lie. It had always been a lie.

“I’m heading to the bathroom,” you said, your voice catching. Your best friend furrowed her brow at you.

“Do you want me to come?” she said.

“No, it’s okay,” you said. “Please. I’ll be right back.”

You fled without another word, stumbling over your feet in your haste, wine sloshing in the glass you still clutched in your fist as you walked with as much composure as you could until you were out of sight of the hall, whereupon your steps grew minced and desperate as you raced towards the door. The hotel’s heating was suddenly suffocating, and you were dimly aware of a wet stain spreading across your chest where the contents of your cup had spilled in your haste.

Why were you reacting like this? Why did you care so suddenly? Why did it matter? And why were you on the verge of crying? You had already had a chance, and you had squandered it. You could’ve been at Barou’s table, sitting alongside him and Hiori and Niko, your head resting against his shoulder when you were tired, his coat cascading over your back when you were cold. It was your own fault, and something you had come to terms with long ago, so why was it hitting you like this, all at once?

As Aryu had predicted, it was pouring rain outside, but you brushed the receptionist’s concerns aside, the hotel door slamming behind you as you made a beeline for a bench by one of the many azalea bushes blooming in front of the grand building. It was such a sad and lonely thing, that bench, the grey stone drenched, the lamp above it flickering unsteadily, and for some reason, that was enough for you to burst into tears, downing the rest of the wine you didn’t even like and then, in a fit of inspiration, throwing the glass onto the ground.

The base of it shattered first, followed by the stem and then the body, which burst into a million pieces like stars on the concrete, stained pinkish from your drink and dagger-sharp at the edges. Burying your face in your newly empty hands, you didn’t even try to wipe your tears away — they’d be replaced by fresh ones, as well as the rain, soon enough, so there was no point to it. There wasn’t much of a point to anything.

You shouldn’t have come. You should’ve been firmer with your best friend, should’ve told her you had no interest in coming to this stupid event with stupid Blue Lock, where everyone else had a place but you didn’t, where you would always be an outsider who stuck out like a sapling in snow, where you would always be a second consideration, left to cry in the rain alone before having to return like nothing had ever happened.

“Hey.” Someone sat at the opposite side of the bench with a huff. “You look like serious shit, Y/N.”

“Otoya,” you said, for you would know his voice anywhere, and it was so unexpected that it temporarily broke you out of your spiral. “Thanks a bunch.”

“The weather’s awful,” he said. “What’re you doing out here?”

“I could say the same to you,” you said, the heels of your palms digging into your eye sockets.

“Trust me, it’s not like I want to be,” he said.

“Then go inside,” you said, biting on your lower lip so hard blood swelled in your mouth, salty and acrid. “And stay away from me. For good this time, preferably.”

“I would if I thought it would do anything,” he admitted. “But it’s kind of pointless, right? You’ll still manifest out of thin air somehow, and you’ll probably blame me for something I didn’t even do while you’re at it.”

“Didn’t do? Don’t make me laugh,” you said. 

“Oh, sorry,” he said. “I messed up a movie for you once. Two years ago. Capital crime.”

“It’s not just the movie,” you said. “It’s everything.”

“Everything?” he said.

“It’s you!” you said, dropping your hands into your lap and tilting your head towards the sky. The stars were hidden behind the blanket of grey clouds, but if you squinted hard enough, you could still see the moon, as full and benevolent as a pearl. “It’s you. Everything about you, I can’t stand it. You don’t care about anyone or anything, you just barge into people’s lives and ruin them. You make rocks look smart, and you have horrible taste in ties; you have the worst hair I’ve ever seen on a man — which is saying something, considering I’ve met Karasu — and you’re as condescending as anything, which is also saying something, because what do you have to be condescending about?”

Otoya was quiet, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel his eyes burning holes through you. You rubbed the back of your hand against your face in a futile attempt to pretend like nothing mattered, like this was a routine situation, like he hadn’t found you crying on a solitary bench when you should’ve been with everyone else.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d probably be Barou’s girlfriend,” you continued, your voice weak, pathetic. “Or Reo’s. Or someone else’s entirely. I’d be inside of that party, sitting with the others, and I’d matter to someone. Maybe I don’t have to be the center of attention all of the time, maybe I’m not nearly that pretty or interesting, but at least — at least one person, I would’ve had at least one person…” 

“What are you talking about?” he said.

“You’re always there,” you said. “On the field. At the coffee shop. By the bathrooms. Near the entrance. In the back of my mind. You’re there and I hate it and I hate you and I hate that any of this even concerns me, because why should it? I know who I am. I know the truth.”

“Which is?” he said.

“I can try as hard as I like, but I’ll never be my best friend,” you said. “She’s the one everybody loves. She’s the one with the perfect boyfriend and the perfect life; if this were a television show, she’d be the favorite, the main lead, and I wouldn’t be anything more than the annoying side character who only gets fans out of pity and marries some random, nameless man that the writers make up so nobody wonders what happens to me by the end. I’m not supposed to be important. I keep trying, but I’m not, and every time I think it’s okay, I’m reminded of it and it hurts all over again.”

There was a rustling of fabric, and for a second you thought he had left, but then he was pressing something cold and smooth into your hands — a glass.

“It’s sparkling apple cider,” he said. “You should drink it.”

“Why’d you get this?” you said. “Don’t I seem like someone who would drink red wine?”

“Not really,” he said. “Are you?”

“No,” you said. “I wish I was, but I’m not.”

“It’s not the only drink in the world, so it’s not like you have to like it,” he said. “The others are good, too. I like this one the most, even if other people might not agree.”

The beverage was sweet in your mouth, and before you knew it, you had drained the entire thing, washing away the thickness of the wine and the salt of your tears in one fell swoop. 

“Why are you out here, anyways?” you said.

“I saw you leave and pointed it out to Reo, who told me I should check on you,” he said.

“Why you?” you said.

“Beats me,” he said. 

“You still did it, though,” you said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Don’t ask why. That beats me, too.”

“I wasn’t going to,” you said. “It’s unimportant.”

The cars on the road in front of you rushed by without a care, the puddles on the asphalt streaked through with the colors of the passing vehicles, reflecting the white headlights and the shimmering streaks of oil lingering on their surfaces. 

Neither of you said anything for a while, only watching the traffic, which grew thinner and thinner as the minutes marched on. Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t grating; you thought you would’ve hated it, thought it would’ve been as awkward as it had been on that date with Barou, but it was nice. You didn’t mind it as much when it was him. You didn’t mind it at all, shockingly.

“Otoya,” you said. You couldn’t say how long it had been — both of you were utterly drenched, all of the way to the bone, but he hadn’t complained yet, nor had he made any moves to get up. You probably looked like a wreck, a rat drowned in a water-trough, and in the hotel there were toasts and wine and music and warmth, beautiful girls with beautiful dresses that’d do anything to talk with him for even a second, but still, without any fuss, he stayed with you.

“Hm?” he said.

“Thank you,” you said.

He took the empty glass from your hand, setting it carefully on the ground by his feet, and then he replaced it with something warm — his own hand, fingers lacing through your own, the pulse in his wrist beating against yours in tandem. You stiffened, taken aback, but no words came to your mind, no quick insult or sharp retort. You couldn’t muster anything, and neither could you pull away, so you stayed still, as still as possible, tucked against the armrest on your side of the bench, his palm pressed to yours the only proof that you weren’t alone anymore.

“People will come looking for you soon,” he said.

“Maybe not me, but you, yes,” you said.

“You’re not unimportant,” he said. “There’s people that care about you, too.”

“Do you?” you said, your face heating at the uncharacteristic brashness.

“Do I what?” he said. You exhaled.

“Never mind,” you said. You shouldn’t have expected anything from him. Only a few hours previously, you had been convinced he was the bane of your existence and you were his, so why should his feelings on the matter have changed? Why had yours?

“Come on,” he said. Before you knew what was happening, you were on your feet, and Otoya was looking at you so earnestly that your heart raced and your stomach dropped. “Let’s leave. This party is boring, anyways.”

“Leave? Where will we go, though?” you said. He considered it for a moment, and then, inexplicably, he grinned. You hadn’t seen him smile before, but it was sweet, the type of smile that lit up his entire face in a rare way, the type of smile that made you wonder why you had ever despised him in the first place.

“Well,” he said. “There’s a movie we could watch.”

Your eyes widened, and then you laughed. You laughed and laughed, because you couldn’t believe he had said that, and neither could you believe that you were really about to run away from the gala with him.

“You better not mess it up for me this time,” you said.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he said, and when he squeezed your hand, you thought that maybe there was one person in the world, just one, who paid attention to you. Who thought you were important. Who saw you for who you were. “But you of all people should know I can’t promise that I won’t.”

[midnight1nk]

If you were to ask me:

Out of all the Puzzlevision episodes we had so far, which is your favorite?

My answer will always be “Once Upon An SMG4”. I mean, who wouldn't want a silly fairytale parody? With the chaotic nature of the show, it just made sense to me. You know what also made sense? Having SMG3 play the princess role, considering he is qualified to be a Disney Princess.

if you think about it, the whole Star Trio could be Disney Princesses…

As a glitchybombs shipper, Mr Puzzles basically gave a fairytale AU for us to work with. And indeed, we could’ve had a 'true love’s kiss' moment. While all of these are good reasons, it's not the main reason why I love it.

I love it because it's a parallel/twisted version of “It's Gotta Be Perfect”.

Every story, no matter how outlandish it seems, is grounded in reality.

Think of any fairytale you know of from the top of your head. Pretty easy, right?

But do you have a solid reason as to why the Evil Queen from Snow White is really evil? Or why Goldilocks was alone in the woods and decided to trespass on private property? Or why didn't the Godmother come sooner to save Cinderella from her abusive family?

Perhaps you can find answers in the depths of the internet and historical literature, but otherwise, it's up for speculation. That's because fairytales are for the sake of entertainment. Therefore, the characters and/or their personalities are reduced to simple roles: good guy, bad guy, etc. Toss in a subtle message about human morality and you got a nice little tale where the good guys win and the bad guys get what they deserve.

For “Once Upon An SMG4”, there's much more than what meets the eye. Follow me as I overanalyze this episode to events that happened in the “It's Gotta Be Perfect” arc, and discuss how they could be alluding to future character interactions, WOTFI 2024, and beyond...

ONCE UPON A Ṕ̷̱E̴̺̽R̵̖̎̕F̵̢̗̈́̀E̴̞̍C̴͈̽T̶͓̘̈́ SMG4

THE NARRATOR

The episode starts off with the first actual character of the story: the narrator. Now, we have no idea who that is.

There isn’t a name on who voiced him in the credits, and it can be easily assumed that it was just some random guy, like the one from the Puzzlevision Movie. But I think it might just be Mr Puzzles. He is the showrunner after all. He could've manipulated the script or be the narrator himself. Either way, he is the one in control, forcing the viewer to see the story through his lens (...or screen I guess).

Anyway, the narrator introduces one of the two main characters of the story:

SMG4

The narrator goes on to describe him as “an ugly, wicked witch who's selfish and cruel…” before Witch!4 proceeds to break his back for doing his evil laugh.

Remember how I said that complex characters were reduced to simpler roles? Four was one of them. In IGBP, Four felt inadequate as a content creator and just wanted to make his audience happy. He had insecurities before the arc, hidden in the back of his mind, but it was because of ‘SMG4... Are You Ok?’ episode that those insecurities have now come to light. As told in IGBP, his videos were a sort of “measure” of his worth. It wasn’t only that his videos weren’t good enough, it was that he wasn’t good enough. Therefore, he felt like he failed in making people happy. That would be his fault.

That was why he was desperate to create the best video ever. Unfortunately, when you are laser-focused on something, the world around you becomes a blur. Four isolated himself from the crew (We’ll get back to this, see: ‘Four’s Villain Song’). He didn’t sleep, didn’t even eat. He didn’t try to take care of himself because, as some of us relate, he thought that ‘if I worked on this a bit more, just another second more, maybe it’ll be perfect and I can finally finish it’, having his necessities as an afterthought or even ”reward”. It drove him to his breaking point in the ‘SMG4: MAR10 Day’ episode. It wasn't his intention to shut everyone out nor was it to hurt anyone. But, because he wasn’t in the right headspace, he lashed out at his friends.

As Mr Puzzles’ script stated, Four acted “selfish and cruel”, all for the perfect video. Mr Puzzles already perceived SMG4 in a negative light by calling the show “the stupidest” thing he’d ever seen. This was merely ‘evidence’ for Mr Puzzles to say, “See? This is why you shouldn’t be rooting for SMG4. He is a villain and he got what he deserved”. Four is a villain, that was all Mr Puzzles perceived him as, here in ‘Once Upon an SMG4’ (See: ‘You Look Peak, Brother”, for more). For his character, it makes a lot of sense. Mr Puzzles didn’t have friends growing up so he didn’t understand how Four’s insecurities were really affecting him.

However, a certain purple meme guardian did connect with Four. Speaking of which, the narrator introduces the second main character of the story:

SMG3

The narrator describes Three as “a beautiful princess pure of heart” and that he had “unparalleled beauty, embodying every romantic dream”. Insert Princess!3 having his Disney Princess Moment (TM).

If Mr Puzzles perceives Four being evil, does that mean he perceives Three as the opposite?

Well, sort of. From a storytelling perspective, for every bad guy, there is a good guy. Narrative foils, at times, are parallel to one another. They share similarities in terms of personality or appearance or just wanting the same goal. What better foil to have than Three, Four’s meme guardian partner and former villain.

What about beauty?

Three has repeatedly proclaimed how he's The Rizzler (TM) and how he is far more attractive than Four. In ‘SMG4: We Don’t Talk About What Happened in the Elevator’ episode, Four admitted that Three does have rizz, just as Three admits that he doesn’t hate Four (See: 'Fairest Fight 2024', for more).

Back to Princess!3, he sang how all he wants is money …and-a-sugarda--. While 'wanting to get rich' makes sense for Three’s character, it also doesn’t. Bare with me on this one:

In ‘SMG4: Trash Friends’, it was revealed that Three feels insecure about how he is perceived as Four’s cheap copy. Years ago, he tried being himself in memewarts and afterward. He failed to be recognized, unable to have friends, always being overshadowed by Four. So, in the YouTube Arc, he was obsessed with trying to become like Four. It wasn’t until he took over the channel that he got to experience what it truly felt like to be Four, before he eventually got sent to the Internet Graveyard and there began a whole new journey for him. He’s okay with his character development. In ‘SMG4: You Used To Be Cool’, he realizes that he doesn’t need to prove to anyone who he is, being satisfied with the life he now has.

What does it have to do with money?

Looking back at ‘SMG4: Trash Friends’ and the Meme Factory Arc, we saw that Three’s Coffee & Bombs wasn’t doing so well. It isn’t confirmed if this was of Mr Puzzles’ doing, but regardless, it does bring back some ugly memories for him. For once, he is enjoying the life he built and is currently trying to prove that he is not a mere copy of Four. But he might lose it, just as it happened with Snitch Productions.

He doesn’t want to go back to the life he had before. It isn’t just the café, it’s the possibility that he might lose his friends. Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he is part of the crew, and that is a lot more to lose. So, he has to “rescue” his café financially, to show that he “deserves” to have friends, that he “deserves” this life. Yes, he went through great risks to help his friends when they were in need, especially Four in IGBP. But he still wants to prove it.

(I’ll talk about it more about Three’s character on a later post.)

So, Mr Puzzles wasn’t all wrong; Three was “pure of heart” in a sense, he just has trouble showing his true emotions and being vulnerable again. After all, the first person he was vulnerable to was Terrence and we all know how that went.

And what about Eggdog?

Three literally came out of a flash drive so he doesn't have a biological family (or preprogrammed...because of the cosmology lore?). During the classic era, no one really treated him nicely. So, for Eggdog and additionally Terrence, he treated them with absolute devotion. Always reminding them that they are special, that they're loved. That they are never alone.

The difference was that Three was careful of Eggdog's whereabouts, while Terrence was always with him and minding his own business, including the Revelations movie. Three will always love Terrence, and to prove how good a parent he truly was, Terrence said a final "I love you" to Three.

He wasn't going to make the same mistake with Eggdog. Whenever Eggdog gets hurt, Three comes rushing to his side to ensure he is okay. Three keeps a close eye on him but when it comes to the bug mission, Three would have Eggdog stay at home or have a backup plan if Eggdog does come along. He just can't lose another loved one.

“YOU LOOK PEAK, BROTHER.”

Let’s cut ahead to when Witch!4 was giving compliments to a version of “him” inside the TV. Admittedly, this is just a bit.

HOWEVER, I overanalyze stuff soooooo…...

Remember how I said that Mr Puzzles sees Four in a negative light?

In IGBP, there was the hallway scene with Three, Meggy, and Mario discovering the paintings being replaced with messages. As Three states, these messages were his thoughts, how Four painted himself in a negative light. Four made sure to hide his low self-esteem well from his friends but it always lingered in the shadows.

Mario wasn't wrong: the person who "wrote" them was indeed a good person.

Mr Puzzles, however, showed the opposite. That Four set himself up on a pedestal, as someone who sees himself as righteous. A narcissist. And how? By being the “TV, TV on the Wall” and pretending to be Witch!4 on the screen giving compliments to the actual Witch!4 how perfect he is.

YOU’RE INVITED!

This is more of a parallel than anything. In the story, Princess!3 gets “invited” to King Bob’s Ballin’ Ball, the invite literally being launched to him by Witch!4.

In the IGBP arc, Three got invited to do a collab with Mr Yeast through his stream in ‘SMG4... Are You Ok?’ episode. While Four may have not been the one who brought in Mr Yeast for him, it was because of Four’s crew that made Three went through a new path in his life from the end of the Youtube Arc, being Lord of the Internet Graveyard, and becoming a streamer which got him the collab. So, indirectly, Four brought Mr Yeast to Three.

A (FAILING) PLAN

Fast forward through the story, Princess!3 strolls around the ball, Witch!4 instructs Prince Luigi to give Princess!3 the apple to make him "the ugliest princess" and Witch!4 would become the fairest of them all. As expected, it failed miserably, and Witch!4 had to improvise and come up with a new plan.

In IGBP, Four also had a plan when he was starting to create the perfect video, stocking his room with enough food for him to last. He made multiple attempts to create the video, feeling unsatisfied with every version he made.

MR. LUIGI

OMG, Mr L? Nah, I’m just kidding.

In all seriousness, though, I did find it fascinating that Prince Luigi basically turned Mr Yeast, the catalyst of IGBP. Hmmm….

THE TALLEST TOWER

By Witch!4’s instructions, Mr Luigi kidnaps Princess!3 and puts him in the tallest tower.

In IGBP, there is a scene where the rescuing trio finds SMG4’s classic design before it awakens and traps Three with him, making Meggy and Mario find Four to rescue them both. Curiously, the final showdown with Possessed!4 and Monster!3 waiting for them took place in the tallest tower of Peach’s castle.

A DOLLAR (…AND A BLOCK OF “CHEESE”)

In Mr Yeast fashion, he proposes a challenge that whoever save the princess gets a dollar, before he gets pushed off the tower by Princess!3. Realizing that he might need help, Princess!3 was able to get Mario to save him, promising that one dollar and an additional block of "cheese". In all technicality, Mario was completing the challenge.

In the IGBP arc, Mario completed a challenge created by Mr Yeast, making spaghetti while in a crashing plane. And, would you look at that? Food was involved too!

FOUR'S VILLAIN SONG

Told you we would come back to it! Better than what Disney’s Wish could ever do, Witch!4 sings how great being a villain was and how you just can’t go wrong with a great villain song. An absolute classic.

I do want to point out the first few lines of Four’s musical number:

I’ve gotta be honest with you, There’s many reasons I like being the villain, from just chillin’ to killin’ to tyrannically instilling fear, unto unwilling peasants who crossed my path…

Again, this shouldn’t be taken that seriously, but knowing how Mr Puzzles perceives him to be, this meant a lot more. Four, being the ‘villain’ of IGBP, was “tyrannically instilling fear” unto his friends who ‘prevented’ him from creating the perfect video. This, for the most part, was how Mr Puzzles saw it since IGBP was a horror parody. In reality, the crew was worried for him, not scared of him. Sure, there were moments when they were confused about Four’s extreme behavior but they were more worried about his wellbeing. Mr Puzzles didn’t know what that was like, to have someone worried for another’s wellbeing.

BOOPKINS

Yes, even Boopkins gets a spot on here! In the story, when Mario brought Sir Boopkins to save Princess!3, Princess!3 immediately regrets his life choices. Boopkins, on the other hand, doesn’t listen to what Princess!3’s yelled to Mario and attempts to save him… miserably.

It directly mirrors in IGBP, how Boopkins tried to defeat the keyboard demon with the ‘power of friendship and love’.

Love wins! Love always wins!

[It's Gotta Be Perfect]

He isn't wrong, a lot of the arcs were resolved because of love between friends, family, and partners. The good guys indeed win, but not without sacrifice. They kept their promise, but not without loss.

IGBP was no different. While ‘love always wins’ is true, Boopkins went about it the wrong way, thinking the demon itself would have a change of heart. Three was the one who somehow did it correctly and was able to save Four at the end.

Wow. Love does win, huh?

FAIREST OF THEM ALL

After Sir Boopkins’ failed attempt, Witch!4 comes in, riding a dragon, saying to Princess!3:

“Ha ha! You will never be saved, princess, and I shall be fairest of them all!”

[Once Upon An SMG4]

Do remember that scene?

Good.

Now imagine that moment in IGBP when Four had to choose to save Three or the flash drive that contained the video they made:

You will never be saved, Three, and I will have the perfect video!

…Ain’t that wild?

Then, it begs the question: Did Mr Puzzles want Three to die? Actually, no, he wanted Four dead. Remember back in the movie when the tentacles of the keyboard demon dragged Four back into the desk. Four knew he couldn’t leave so Four begged Three to leave him there and accepted that the whole incident was his fault. And it did seem like the end for him.

Plot twist: Three snapped him (or I guess slapped him) out of it and stayed alongside Four so he could help finish the video. It was because of Three that Four was finally freed from the cursed keyboard and it was because of Three admitting that they are friends that Four made his final decision. If Three wasn’t there, Four would’ve become a monster like Peach did or Four would have to sacrifice Three because he was traumatized to the point that he needs the video.

Perhaps it didn’t go how Mr Puzzles intended it to be but hey, it was entertainment, so he had let it slide for now.

FAIREST FIGHT 2024

Back to the story, Mario proposes that Witch!4 and Princess!3 should have a contest to see who really is the fairest. And so began the Fairest Fight 2024, consisting of three (3) challenges for three (3) judges to see who earns the title of the “fairest of them all”. Let’s begin with the first challenge:

ATTRACTING NOBLE HEROES CHALLENGE

Princess!3 was able to convince one hero with the weak promise of friendship while Witch!4 offering a lifetime sub to his OF, beating Princess!3 this round.

It parallels how it was in the outside world where Three, still trying his best, makes attempts to be popular while Four, already being incredibly popular, can easily attract his audience with his memes. But it also shows how Four is willing to dedicate a lot of his time and effort to making people happy while Three is still cautious about how open he should be to other people.

KISSING A FROG CHALLENGE

Okay, obviously, it's supposed to be a ‘princess and the frog’ reference. Just a bit, but it could mean something more. First off, to get this out of the way, I find it interesting that when Witch!4 tried to kiss a frog, the frog turned into Kermit and practically made him lose the challenge (Three didn’t either btw). It mirrored how in IGBP, Four kept using Kermit clips to make this perfect video, refusing to use any other material which eventually caused him to go insane.

With that out of the way, let’s get to the deep analysis part of this challenge:

As IGBP has taught us, relationships are complicated and complex. It takes time and dedication to stay but it also needs balance. As emotions are involved, it can be hard for others to completely understand the situation but, as Three has done, it’s possible to try.

We already made a connection of this episode being a twist of IGBP, so this could be applied here, how Four and Three approach a supposed relationship, in two ways:

(1) The frogs represent the new people that will enter each of their lives

When Four gets involved romantically and/or platonically with someone new who we call Person A, he can be a bit forward towards this person, but he is willing to commit to it. Person A however would either (1) end the relationship or (2) die. This leaves Four shocked.

When Three gets involved romantically and/or platonically with someone new (Person B), he is willing to risk it all. Usually, he is cautious about what he does but Person B somehow convinced him that they are the exception. Person B, like the poisonous frog, would either (1) use emotional manipulation to hurt 3 to a certain end or (2) be the cause of his death.

(2) The frogs represent each other — the Axol X Melony Theory(???)

That’s right, SMG34 shippers, it’s our time now. While SMG34 ship has been incredibly well-known in the fandom and the people behind the SMG4 show, we know it’s not going to become canon, mostly due to homophobia from certain fans, and the ship isn't meant to be treated seriously. But there are also too many moments that allude to the idea that they can be canon. Even reactors are starting to notice, a few lowkey “ship” them (which is honestly insane). In ‘SMG4: Plane Trip’ episode, Swag and Four had a bit of a bonding moment. Swag mentioned Sonic, his wife, as family. Four mentions how he feels the same (about being in a romantic relationship) and “having someone back home [himself]”, there he is presented with a locket. Again, this could all be a joke with well-known crack ships (memes, Dasani, computer, etc). Strangely though, the punchline never came.

They didn’t have time to put it in.

No, because all it takes is a few seconds to shift to Four’s POV and show THE DAMN PHOTO. BUT THEY DIDN’T!

*proceeds to scream into a pillow*

…Uh, anyway, some reactors suspected the person in the locket was Three. If reactors had the mere thought about Three and Four being together, then you know something really is up between those two. Sure, fandom talk. But like, if someone who you didn’t expect at all says that they might be gay, then the signals they give off must be really loud.

If the slightest chance this ship is ever going to be canon, then the Frog Challenge would be the slickest foreshadowing they had ever done, and yet brings up a whole lot of dread for the SMG34 shippers. At the end of WOTFI 2023, Three drew himself and Four enjoying a cup of coffee together, which seems oddly similar to Melony’s drawing of her and Axol (and vice-versa with Axol’s Confession Page).

If the theory is going to come true and the Kissing A Frog Challenge is going to allude to something, then it could mean two things:

(1) Either Four or Three would be with someone else, leaving the other heartbroken and therefore, their crush on them “died”

(2) Four or Three would confess to the other their feelings, but it would be too late and the other would be destined to die

Oh boy, ok. Let’s take a moment here to take a breather off the screen and pray for the shippers that the Axol X Melony Theory would not come true, regardless if the ship is ever going to be canon.

TRY NOT TO GET KIDNAPPED CHALLENGE

Stepping away from the Kissing Frog Challenge, we hop into this challenge, where the two avoid getting themselves kidnapped by Shrek. Princess!3 came up with the idea to use Witch!4 as a sort of trade, pointing out Witch!4’s features as selling points (with Princess!3 puking at the end there). According to Witch!4, they were "the worst selling points" he ever heard and it still worked. Princess!3 beat the challenge and placed the two of them in a complete tie.

Say it with me now: it’s just a bit.

And yet again I say: hear me out…

It shows that Three accepts Four’s flaws. Sure, there might be things that Three might find annoying about Four but he doesn’t hate Four. Especially, after IGBP, they connected more than ever. When they are in desperate need, they find each other. When one feels down or upset, the other notices. It makes sense, considering that they’re cosmically linked. But somehow, thanks to IGBP, they became close and already saw parts of each other's worst side. Four already accepts that Three is a former villain but Three of all people also accepts Four for who he is.

THE WINNER

The points have been tallied and judges make their decision, declaring Princess!3 as the official winner. Along with the title of being the “fairest”, he gets a wish. Twist of the episode: Three breaks the fourth wall and wishes to escape Mr Puzzles’ control. Then, Godmother Puzzles swoops in and restores the natural order of his script. Again, it’s plain and simple: Three is begging the audience to help them find an escape from this nightmare.

…well…

Notice how the one who broke the tie between the two was Mr Luigi, giving the last point to Princess!3, just as how Mr Yeast preferred to collab with Three instead of Four.

Remember how I said being the fairest is the equivalent of being perfect from that line told by Witch!4? This scene isn’t telling us that Three is perfect, but rather Four is imperfect. For the audience, we know that no one is perfect and that is okay. To quote from the animated show, Arcane:

"In the pursuit of great, we failed to do good."

[Arcane, S1 EP9]

From Mr Puzzles’ perspective and his ideology of being perfect, imperfection sounds like a bad thing.

The part where Princess!3 won was the same way how Three “won” in IGBP. Princess!3 won by getting what he wanted since the beginning of the story: money. Three, being the protagonist of IGBP, the 'good guy', won by beating the demonic keyboard and saving his partner.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

And that is “Once Upon An SMG4”, a twisted version of “It’s Gotta Be Perfect”. One that Mr Puzzles would have preferred. But it’s not over yet, my dear fellows, as every story has a sequel.

“And SMG4, who knew you could play an antagonist so well! High marks from me.”

[SMG4: Puzzlevision Movie]

A new arc is approaching leading up to WOTFI 2024 and if the 'SMG4: Inside Out' episode has anything to go by, IGBP really affected Four. Perhaps we don't get to see it through his behavior but he still remembers it. (hmm, how curious that Once Upon an SMG4 gets an appearance here...🤔) According to Inside Out 2 movie, orange symbolizes anxiety, meaning that Four is terrified that he might cause another IGBP incident. Naturally, problems can't easily be resolved and at times, they relapse.

In the actual plot of the episode, Four drank that carton of "special brain juice" with Mr Puzzles' face plastered on it. This is a major problem:

(1) Because of Anger taking control of Four's emotions, Four destroyed the carton, getting rid of the only evidence there was for anyone else to make the connection that Mr Puzzles is up to something.

(2) He was alone when he did this. Remember: Three placed a hidden camera in Four's room when he decorated it. It has been confirmed in the actual merch with Three stating in his notebook that "it was a mistake" putting it there. We don't exactly know why he did it, but it can be assumed that he just wanted to keep tabs on Four to make sure another IGBP incident doesn't happen. If he couldn't use the camera, he would stop by to check up on him, making fake excuses on why he came. Except when Four took the carton, it was in the kitchen and Three wasn't able to come over to the castle.

At the end of the episode, we can assume that Mr Puzzles has taken control of Four's mind and used him to his advantage. With WOTFI 2024 coming up and new arcs beyond that, it will be up to the crew to rescue Four once again and stop Mr Puzzles from taking creative control of their real lives...

That is another post for me to work on but in the meantime, that’s just a theory…

AN SMG4 THEORY

🎶Thanks for dropping by🎶

[arikashimorika]

Oooo. the Color Gang being so young means they've probably latched onto Alan as some sort of parental figure, not definitive, but it'd be there. Esp TSC, though bc Alan and TSC spend more time together esp when animating, TSC might encounter Noogai. Though it'd be unlikely to happen too often. But regardless, due to these varuous factors and how they dont have other bigger influences other than the internet and Purple and Mango, Alan's behavior is basically normal for em.

DJ living with Alan... Now im just imagining there just being a bunch of sticky notes around the house for Alan to see just in case Noogai kicks in and causes him to forget. Sometimes(atleast in my experience, may be diff for others with DID), My alters can like manifest as voices in my head, undefined. I do know its them bc only bc theyre distinct voices. However this applied to Alan...

Alan definitely thinks Noogai providing commentary is simpky his intrusive thoughts, especially with how violent those thoughts would be if theres conflict that violence can be used in.

Also, the thing about Purple and Mango, Purple would notice but likely takes abit longer, Mango on the other hand would kinda clock in that Alan's behavior is weird, not exactly that Alan has DID, but that Alwn's behavior is just. Off.

Theres also Chosen and Dark! If ever Dark survives in this AU or not, i think he'd be insulted Alan remembers Chosen but not him /silly. Althought their reactions would be kinda on diff ends, in the end they're both likely experiencing some whiplash with how DIFFERENT Alan is now compared to then(in their own eyes.), unaware of Noogai(for now...)

The one im fascinated by the most is Victim's reaction however. Like how would he feel if the man that tortured him for months on end was somehow also not the same man yet is? And that man doesnt remember him at times but other times he can. That the person he sees behind the screen either looks so kind or so cruel you'd wish you escaped sooner. Idk im rambling again! hehehe

Stupid Alan and Noogai doodles bc theyre so funny to me. Noogai abt to juggle the sticks like in that one short here /j

He has done nothing wrong ever (LIAR.)

Oh! I’ve seen that. Those poor little kids, Lol

Continuing with questions about DID!AlanAU

I see.. the relationship between Alan and the Color Gang as being similar to someone taking care of "a friend’s kid" (yes, I mean you. DadyDJ). Perhaps DJ just wants Alan to take a break from work and do something lighter for a change.

Even though, sometimes, the result turns out to be the complete opposite... lol

As for Sec, I think he’s like a character Alan hasn’t fully created yet (because he hasn’t been named). But somehow, Sec "came to life" on his own. It’s fun to imagine Alan opening Sec’s file only to discover that his name has already been set as "The Second Coming.exe – The Chosen One's Return." That would definitely leave Alan confused, wouldn’t it?

With Alan’s tendency to be forgetful... yes, DJ sticks reminder notes everywhere Alan might see them—on the whiteboard in his office, the fridge, even on his computer screen. But Alan always takes them down, finding the sheer amount of notes overwhelming and annoying.

---

As for TCO and TDL, I’m not entirely sure about TDL’s fate in the canon, but in this AU, I want him to be alive. It doesn’t seem fair for him to bear the consequences of everything, especially when part of the chaos stemmed from Noogai’s command codes.

After The Showdown

After clearing things up, TCO occasionally visits TSC (sometimes dragging TDL along to apologize for the chaos they caused).

Of course, Noogai tries to stop TDL from harming the Color Gang, but it usually fails (it's kind of like Noogai thinking, Only I get to mess with those kids!).

The Moment Alan Encounters TCO and TDL Again

*Alan introduces TCO to the Color Gang*

TSC: "So, did you create TDL too?"

*Alan looks at them with a confused expression* Alan: "Who’s TDL?"

*The room falls into silence*

TDL unable to hold it in, shouted : "What the HELL kind of joke is this? Are you Kidding me?!"

*DJ, who had been listening from a distance, knew the reason but wasn’t sure how to explain.*

As for TCO, he is indeed a quiet person. Even though he caused quite a bit of trouble when he was first created, perhaps that’s partly due to the influence of the name Alan gave him—who knows? And I think it would be amusing to see TDL sulking at Alan for not remembering him, even though, deep down, TDL is the kind of person who’s too stubborn to openly express his feelings.

Extra scene..

Before the AVM Introduction Scene

DJ was sitting at his desk, playing Minecraft while uploading a video to the AVG (Animators vs. Games) channel.

Alan walked over, glancing at the screen with curiosity.

Alan: "Hey, buddy. What game are you playing?"

DJ turned to Alan, looking utterly shocked before blurting out:

DJ: "What?! You know every drawing program out there, but you don’t know Minecraft? Where was your childhood, man?!"

Not letting Alan off the hook, DJ immediately made him download Minecraft and try it out.

Thoughts on Alan:

To me, Alan wouldn’t have much of an enthusiastic reaction to Minecraft. In his childhood, he probably couldn’t afford the equipment needed to play games. Or, perhaps he just didn’t care about games, choosing instead to spend his time learning and finding ways to create a career for himself.

Alan’s Situation with Purple and Mango

Alan accidentally encounters them about a week after The Showdown...

*Purple and Mango appear after being invited by the Color Gang and Orange.*

As Alan finishes his work and prepares to head to bed, following DJ's advice...

Alan: "Uh… Dude, did you make two more kids?"

DJ (walking behind Alan to check on things): "Excuse me, What?!"

Thoughts on Alan: From my perspective, Alan sees all stick figures as mischievous kids (Color Gang) or troublemakers (The Chosen One and The Dark Lord). He never bothers asking about the age or details of Mango and Purple at all. lol

Victim's reaction however..

In AVA 9 'Wanted'

After the events of The Showdown, TCO was issued a warrant by Rocket Corp, while TDL was recovering from the battle with TSC.

As both were being hunted by mercenaries, TDL was caught first, while TCO managed to escape and seek refuge with the Orange and Color Gang.

After TSC was dragged into the portal by TCO, the Color Gang quickly followed suit.

Alan, concerned about the kids, decided to implement the backup plan he had prepared with DJ since the events of The Showdown.

...And BOOM!!

The backup plan involved using VR to connect with an avatar that was created (of course, all the equipment and avatar design were done entirely by DJ himself—don’t even ask where he got all the materials from; it’s DJ™ business).

This could allow Alan to meet Victim directly, but their first encounter will likely confuse both the kids and Victim when they meet Alan in avatar form, as they have only known each other from the perspective of the cursor (to Victim). Furthermore, Alan has kept this a secret between himself and DJ (to Color Gang).

Of course, DJ has started to worry about Color Gang, who are always looking for trouble. He’s already lectured them, but did the kids learn their lesson? Nope!

[sheerfreesia007]

Twilight Zone

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

Word count: 4,014

Content warnings: Angst, infidelity

Summary: It’s the holiday season and to show good faith you agree to spend some time with your father before leaving for vacation with San. But what happens when there’s an unexpected guest to your father’s home?

Part One: Greedy

The clacking  keys on your keyboard are duly muted as lively Christmas music plays throughout your office while you work, you hum along to the music as a soft smile graces your face. The Christmas season is going to be here soon and you’re excited since you had been invited to San’s family Christmas vacation not only by San but also his mother and sister Haneul. 

You were actually really excited to spend the holidays with San and his family because ever since your divorce from Felix you had pulled away from your father. He had been upset at your decision to divorce Felix instead of staying and working it out with him. And while you had tried to explain to him why you weren’t able to do that he had ultimately told you that he would’ve preferred if you had stayed with Felix.

That knowledge had stung quite a bit and had caused you to keep your father at a distance since the divorce. He had tried to reach out to you but after finding out that he had wanted you to stay with a cheater instead of standing up for yourself had made you realize that your father was still misguided in his way of thinking. The distance had been hard for you because your father was your only remaining parent since you had easily cut your mom out of your life after her affair, but with time San and your therapist had helped you get over the hurt of needing to keep your father at a distance. It was better for your mental health to take a step back from your father.

Just as you can feel yourself start to spiral with the reminder that you’re not as close to your father anymore your cellphone begins to ring with San’s ringtone and his silly contact picture pops up on the screen. You smile widely at the picture before taking a moment to save your work on your computer then pick up your cellphone to answer his call.

”Hey Sannie.” You coo into the phone with a warm smile. 

“Hey there sweetheart. Are you almost done with work?” He asks fondly and your eyes dart to your computer screen before falling to the digital clock in the corner of the screen.

”Yeah I should be leaving here in half an hour.” You told him pleasantly. When you went to open your mouth to ask him what he wanted for dinner tonight your desk phone began to ring and you frowned softly at it as your eyes darted over the screen to see your father’s cell phone number displayed. “Hold on San, my dad’s calling my work phone. Can I call you right back?” You ask him distractedly as your eyes continue to stare at your father’s phone number on the display screen.

”Of course babe. Just remember take deep breaths, you’ve got this!” San encourages you sweetly and you smile fondly at him before hanging up with him. You then pick up your desk phone.

”Hi Dad.” You greet your father and cringe slightly at giving away that you’ve recognized his phone number.

”Darling! How are you? It’s been a while hasn’t it?” Your father greets you and the smile that San had pulled from you dimmed slightly at the reminder that you needed to keep your distance from your father for your mental health.

”Yeah it has been. It’s just been a little busy here at work.” You tell him a half truth and he hums in response. “What’s going on Dad? Is everything alright?” You ask him curiously wondering what he had called you for.

”I wanted to invite you and San for a few days to the house to celebrate Christmas. Have you already made plans are do you have some free time to come visit with me?” Your father explains and asks you causing you to frown softly at his words.

”San and I are going to spending Christmas with his family in a ski resort in the next town over. We’ll be there from just before Christmas til New Years.” You tell him and hear his soft sigh in response.

”Alright so your Christmas is booked. But could you come visit before Christmas? I’d like to see you for the holiday.” Your father says in a disappointed tone and you bite your tongue to curb the desire to try and fix his disappointment for him.

”I’ll have to talk to San and see if he’s available.” You tell him honestly.

”Well San doesn’t have to come if he’s not free. I’d like to see you for Christmas if that’s possible.” Your father tries to cajole you into agreeing already to spend time with him close to Christmas.

”I’ll double check with San and I’ll let you know. How does that sound?” You reiterate and hear your father’s soft sigh at your stated boundary.

”Fine, that’s fine darling. Just let me know if you two can make it.” Your father says exasperatedly and you frown as you hear his tone turn harsh and hard.

”What dates were you looking at?” You ask him curiously as you easily pull up your calendar on your computer.

”How about the three days before Christmas Eve?” He asks hopefully and your eyes dart around your calendar before humming softly.

”We’ll have to leave early on the twenty third to get there in time for Christmas Eve. How about we come stay with you on the twenty first and twenty second?” You compromise and your father huffs softly at your words.

”I mean if that’s all you’re willing to give me.” Your father snips out and your eyes narrow irritated as you stare at your computer screen.

”If you’re going to have an issue with what I’m willing to offer than we don’t have to come.” You snap back at him and suddenly your father is backpedaling.

”No, no, I’m sorry. I just miss you darling. I’d be so happy to see you on the twenty first and the twenty second. Find out from San if he’s available and let me know.” Your father says hurriedly. “I hope you guys can make it! Call or text me later when you find out from San. I love you darling.” He says quickly before hanging up the phone. Frowning at the receiver in your hand you hang up the phone before picking up your cell phone and dialing San’s number wondering what had gotten into your father and feeling a pit forming in your stomach.

*-*-*-*

On the twenty first you find yourself staring up at your old family home while sitting in the passenger seat of San’s car. There’s a feeling of unease within you and you can’t place why it’s there. Ever since the phone call with your father he’s been a little more attentive towards you and while you don’t normally respond to him like you used to you still keep the line of communication open. But it all has just been sitting with you weird and you can’t put your finger on it.

”Hey, what’s going on in that head of yours? Everything alright?” San asked softly as his hand slipped into yours and interlaced your fingers. You turned to stare at him he smiled softly before raising your hand and pressing a soft kiss to the top of it. “Tell me.”

”I just feel off. Something doesn’t feel right. He’s been too talkative, too involved almost. It’s like he’s trying to butter me up for something.” You say softly and San looks over at you worriedly.

”We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. If you’re feeling too uneasy about this we don’t have to go.” He reassures you and a smile slips onto your face, the fact that he’s adamant now about having your back whenever you have a bad gut feeling. It was such a nice change from last year when everything went down with Felix. But as you stared at him you knew that with him at your side you’d be able to get through this visit unscathed.

”No, I’d rather just get this over with. Just stay by my side.” You said to him softly with a weary sigh and he frowned softly at your words and the tired look on your face. “I feel like if I don’t go through this visit I’ll regret it and never hear the end of it from my Dad.” You confessed softly and San’s face softened at your admission.

”That’s not really the best reason to have a visit with your Dad. But if you’re sure about this. I’ll be there right by your side the whole time.” He promised solemnly and you smiled sweetly at him before leaning over the center console and kissing him sweetly on the mouth.

”Thank you.” You whispered against his mouth and he hummed softly before pulling you into a deep kiss.

”Darling! You made it!” Came your father’s loud cry and you reluctantly pulled away from San to look out the windshield at your father. With another tired sigh you nodded your head and stepped out of the car. Raising your hand you waved at your father before walking to the back of the car where San eagerly met you and popped the trunk to grab your things. He then let you lead him up towards the house where you father waited for you excitedly.

When you walked up the steps and were close enough your father pulled you into a tight warm hug. You returned the hug but still felt slightly off in his embrace and it made you pull back sooner than you normally would which made your father frown softly at your reaction. He held your shoulders and let his eyes trail up and down your body before grinning widely at you.

”You look wonderful darling!” He said happily as he turned to lead you into the house. You frowned as you realized that he hadn’t greeted San at all before entering the house. San’s arm came up around your shoulders and gave you a side hug before pressing a kiss to your temple to show that he didn’t want to make a scene about it. Choosing to follow San’s lead you stayed quiet and walked into the house with San following close behind you. 

As your father leads the two of you into the living room your eyes spot someone already sitting on the couch and you feel your heart thud heavily in your chest with unease. Felix sits on the couch with his elbows on his knees as he watches television, but when he hears your father enter he immediately stands up to greet you as if he had known you’d be coming. The feeling of unease and dread consumes you causing you to feel your breath stutter in your lungs. When San enters the room behind you and notices Felix he steps close to your back until he’s touching it giving you all the comfort and reassurance he can’t just with his presence. You notice Felix’s eyes darken when he spots San standing tall behind you and you internally scowl at his reaction, did he actually think that you would come to your father’s holiday visit without your boyfriend? How did that make sense at all?

”Dad you didn’t tell me that you would have other company for the holiday.” You say warily as you stare at Felix who glares at San. Turning to your father you completely ignore Felix to watch your father smile widely at you with a hopeful look on his face.

”I couldn’t abandon him during the holiday. He has no one to celebrate with!” Your father implores you and you frown softly  at his words as you remember seeing Felix with the woman he cheated on you with at the farmer’s market last weekend acting like a loved up couple. You had gone there with San since that was your normal routine on the weekends and the two of you had spotted Felix and his girlfriend there.

As you open your mouth to refute your father’s claims San’s hand comes to rest gently on your shoulder causing you to turn your head to look at him. He shakes his head and you furrow your brows slightly before closing your mouth. San obviously had a reason for not telling your father about Felix’s girlfriend and while you don’t agree with staying quiet you follow San’s lead again. 

“Where will we be sleeping?” You suddenly ask your father and he tilts his head to the side at your question and you gesture a hand to you and San causing your father to flush with embarrassment.

”You can’t sleep in the same room.” He blurts out and your face twists into a scowl at his words.

”What are you talking about? We’ve been dating for almost a year now.” You say confused as you watch your father begin to splutter at your admission of dating San since after your divorce was finalized.

”It’s okay, it’s your home. We won’t sleep in the same room.” San says graciously and you frown darkly at his words as you turn to him quietly. “I won’t disrespect your father in his own home.” He says softly to you and you feel at a loss as you feel your control on the situation slipping and San’s reassurance quickly disappearing.

”Good, darling will sleep in her old bedroom while San you’ll sleep in the spare room down the hall.” Your father says happily as he claps his hands and you watch him with a shrewd look on your face noting the distance that was just placed between you and San.

”And where’s Felix sleeping?” You asked your father with a wary look on your face.

”Right next to you in the attached bedroom.” Your father answered and you instantly stiffened at his words. San quickly slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you back against his chest trying to reassure you and calm you down.

”Dad, don’t you think that’s more inappropriate than me sleeping in the same bedroom as San?” You asked bewildered as you stared at your father incredulously. Your father frowned darkly at you and San tightened his arm around your waist knowing that if you pushed your father too much he could possibly ask San to leave and he didn’t want to leave you completely alone in the home with your father and ex-husband.

”No, not at all.” Your father snipped at you and you stared at him bewildered as you tried to understand what he was trying to do.

”It's okay, sweetheart. We’ll make it work.” San said softly to you and you frowned as you turned your head to him surprised. He looked down at you with a softened look on his face trying to get you to understand his concern. “C’mon let’s go put our bags down in the bedrooms and take a moment to relax.”

”Yes, go on upstairs darling. You should relax before we all have dinner together.” Your father said happily as he grinned at you. Frowning still, you nodded your head at San before leading him upstairs to the bedrooms, not even bothering to spare a look at Felix who had been watching both you and San avidly throughout the whole exchange.

Once you made it upstairs to your bedroom San set your suitcase down on the bed while you walked over to the attached bathroom and locked the door that led into your bedroom from the bathroom. San sighed softly as he ran a hand over his face tiredly and exasperatedly before sitting on the edge of the bed. You walked over to him and stood between his parted legs and he looked up at you quietly.

”I don’t want you to think that I’m siding with your dad. I’m not. I don’t know what he’s thinking but I don’t want to push him too hard and have him ask me to leave. I’m not going to leave you alone in this house with the two of them. Don’t worry, we’ll get through this together.” He promised you softly and you frowned at his words finally understanding why he had agreed to what your father wanted.

”Alright, let’s go get you settled and then we can take a nap in your room. Just because I can’t stay with you in a room tonight doesn’t mean I’m going to stay in here for Felix to come and find me.” You said derisively and San nodded his head with a soft smile before eagerly getting up off the bed and following you to the spare bedroom.

*-*-*-*

Dinner that night is awkward when you and San walk into the dinning room. The table is set with four plates and you instantly notice that there’s a place set right next to Felix while another place is set across the table from him. You frown softly at the blatant intention to get you close to Felix before San’s hand grazes your back and you watch as he moves around you and takes the seat next to Felix. Your father frowns darkly at that and Felix shifts in his seat before smiling brightly up at you while you take your seat across from both him and San.

”So darling tell me how has work been? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever.” Your father began to ask as dinner was served to everyone.

”Work is good it’s been busy.” You tell him vaguely and he nods his head quickly at your words before opening his mouth once more.

”Did you know that Felix finally launched his business last month? He’s been doing very well on his own after the whole incident.” Your father began to ramble and your eyes narrowed slightly at his mention of your divorce.

”You mean the incident where Felix cheated on me with his friend?” You asked bitterly, feeling anger rise up inside of you at how your father tried to brush over something traumatic that happened to you. You watched in disbelief as your father waved his hand in the air dismissively and you felt your eye twitch at his gesture.

”Yes well with the holiday season coming up don’t you think it’s time for you to forgive and let go of the past?” Your father asked hopefully as he cut into his steak before popping a piece into his mouth. Your head whipped to the side to stare at your father with a look of concern on your face.

”What?” You asked in shock as you stared at him.

”The two of you should catch up for old time’s sake and see if you can rekindle a friendship.” Your father said as he continued to cut into his steak and you felt as if you were insane while sitting there listening to him try to suggest that you should befriend your cheating ex-husband once more. 

A feeling of helplessness overcame you and you felt as if you were transported back to the time when you tried to tell your father about your mother’s affair that she had been having all those years ago. You sat there staring down at your plate feeling like the helpless teenager trying to make your father understand that his wife didn’t respect him or their relationship as he turned a deaf ear to you. Feeling something almost click into place within you you sighed loudly effectively silencing the dining room before lifting your head and turning towards your father.

”Have you hit your head sometime within the last week?” You asked darkly and your father scowled at you in return as his eyes narrowed.

”Excuse me?” He asked in quiet harsh tone and you shook your head at him.

”You must have if you think I would ever entertain getting close to my cheating ex-husband again.” You said in an uncompromising tone and your father frowned softly at you as Felix stared at you with wide worried eyes and San watched you in silent awe. “I am not you Dad. And I will not let you disrespect me, my relationship with San or my intelligence.” You said coldly and your father began to open and close his mouth trying to find the words he wanted to say.

”Darling, please calm down.” Felix said softly in that sweet tone that he always used on you to reign you back in while you two had been together. You slowly turned your head to stare at him indifferently and he flinched back in his seat.

”I am calm and I can clearly see that coming here was a mistake.” You said confidently as you glared at Felix. “I will not be forced or coerced into spending time with my ex-husband who didn’t even have the decency to tell me that he no longer wanted to be in a committed relationship with me.” You spat out coldly while still staring at Felix with hard cold eyes.

”That’s enough!” Shouts your father and you lazily turn your head to stare at him. “I will not have you insult my guest! If you choose not to get back together with Felix than you leave me no choice but to disown you!” Shouts your father and then smirks comically at you as he crosses his arms over his chest while leaning back in his chair. 

Your eyes dart over to San and he watches you with wide eyes, you watch as his eyes stay locked on you worriedly and you feel the love and concern he has for you from across the table and feel yourself soak it in. It fills your body with warmth and confidence as you boldly nod your head before setting your cloth napkin down on the table next to your plate and standing from your chair.

”If that’s what you think is best, then do it.” You say coldly before you tilt your head to the door gesturing for San to leave with you. He stands eloquently and meets you at the doorway leading out to the hallway.

”Darling!” Felix calls out surprised and you look over at him with a slight sneer on your face.

”Go back to your girlfriend Felix. She must miss you tonight.” You say coldly and he flinches back once more in his chair.

”They haven’t been together since the divorce!” Your father snaps angrily and you look over at him to see him glaring hatefully at you and all you feel is pity for the misguided man as you scoff softly at him.

”They were out on a date at the farmer’s market last weekend Dad. I’m sure she’s been warming his bed since they started cheating together.” You said with a shrug of your shoulder. Felix opens his mouth before snapping it closed and your father turns to him quickly with an angry look on his face. You take that moment to wrap your arm around San’s and lead him back up to your rooms to collect your things and leave. “Do you think your family would be too mad at us for showing up early to the resort?” You ask softly and San grins widely at you before shaking his head happily.

”They were more upset that we wouldn’t be there for another two days sweetheart.” He says softly while wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’m so proud of you.” He gushes before the two of you quickly leave the house with your suitcases in hand.

*-*-*-*

The next week is absolutely perfect for you as you’re surrounded by people who love and cherish you just as much as you love and cherish them. And as you cuddle up to a giggly San while uploading the picture of your hands entwined showcasing your brand new sparkling engagement ring you find the moment slightly bittersweet but absolutely perfect for the two of you just like how your relationship has been since the beginning.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.208 Jolly ol' Saint Luca

After a day of thrills and chills, we crashed at the rental, happy and exhausted. We didn't wait for bedtime to arrive and headed straight upstairs. I enjoyed our family time in the snow and was glad Desiree had made us get out. In the morning, I poked around the house, looking in closets, hoping to find a Winterfest tree. I wanted Desi's first Winterfest to be extra special since we weren't at home. We hoped our vacation was magical enough for her, considering there wasn't much Sophia and I could do. But if you think we came all this way without presents, you are dead wrong. We may not be able to pull out all the stops, but we're sure gonna make it count. We also decided not to pressure ourselves to exchange gifts. All the time we're going to spend together is a gift. We wanted this Winterfest to be all about Desi because she is amazing, and we're both so grateful she came to be in our lives. Besides, Father Winter would hook us up, anyway. Or maybe he won't because I have been very bad lately, ha ha!

Our celebration of Desi began with a grand breakfast. We got up very early to make it together, but Sophia seemed keen on cheering me on rather than helping, and I shook my head at her.

"You and Desi are just alike."

I finished prep and cooking by myself and made a loud ruckus, calling everyone to the meal, just like my dad did every holiday.

In the absence of a tree, me and Sophia had to kick it up a bit to give the house a festive vibe. We sang all the holiday songs, and I think the kid determined we were crazy. She stared at me, emotionless, trying to figure out what in the world was going on, but I kept going. I can always count on Sophia to have my back with acting silly. Eventually, the child cracked and laughed at us. We did belly laughs and all that Winterfest stuff to share holiday cheer with Desi, but I knew the only element she'd really appreciate was the presents.

We didn't go crazy with the gifts because we did have to get everything back home. Now that we know she's into fitness and wellness, I picked up a few things extra things from vacation kiosk. She got a soccer ball, guitar, her very own yoga mat, and a fancy tablet. Winterfest isn't quite Winterfest for a kid without a gift that comes with a screen, heh.

Alessia called to tell us how the fur babies fared and how the nuggets were destroying the house while playing with their toys. I'm glad all the little sims in my life are happy today. I was very concerned about how Winterfest away from home would go, but Desi is so easygoing, just like Sophia. And me too, I guess. Her happiness is all that matters today.

After presents, Desi wanted to go back outside to play in the snow, so we all went. It didn't occur to me we hadn't discussed Father Winter with her until he arrived. We heard him come in, and we made a big deal about it and ushered her back inside. She didn't freak out or anything, but she seemed very skeptical about this fat old man in a weird coat and hat who somehow found his way into our house. Completely normal behavior, right? Ha!

He talked to Sophia first and gave her a gift. Desi never took her eyes off him. She was so curious, but never said a word. I suppose she figured if we were cool with him, he must be alright. Finally, after giving me a gift, he turned his attention to her and said she was an exceptional child. That disarmed her a little, and she took the gift slowly and opened it. When she saw the loot, all that skepticism went out the window.

Des wanted to play with her ball when he left, so I took that moment to workout and reflect. I thought for sure Sophia would tell her not to play in the house, but she encouraged it. Actually, she asked Desi for the ball so she could show her some moves.

Desi watched in amazement, and in that moment I felt... I don't quite know what to call it. What is that feeling you get when someone finally sees or understands something the way you do? That was me. I always thought Sophia was magical, and the way Desi's eyes twinkle when she watches her, I can tell she's feeling it, too.

[specialagentlokitty]

11th doctor x reader - it would always end this way

Could I get 11 in the scenario of "it would always end this way"? (Least i think thats the title... ive checked back on it 5 times, im done-) Really love that concept and it's just been sending me- - @krismas0arson

The doctor wasn’t paying much attention, not really paying attention to anything aside from the console as he banged a hammer against it.

Then he heard the song that Clara was humming to herself as she walked in and he snapped his head up, banging it against something.

“Ow!”

He rubbed his head and stepped away from the console, and Clara stopped singing to look at him.

“What were you singing?” He asked.

“I heard it on the way in, just up the street.”She smiled

“The street?”

“Yeah, a busker.”

“Take me!”

The doctor ran to the door and he gestured for Clara to do the same thing, and she sighed and followed him outside.

“It’s just a song.”

“But it’s not just a song.” He said.

Clara led him down the street then pointed across the street and the doctor walked over, standing with the small group of people who were also listening.

Clara walked over and stood next to him.

“It’s just a song, I think it’s from a film.”

The doctor carefully listened to what the words were and he furrowed his brows a little bit.

“But it’s wrong.”

“How can it be wrong doctor?” Clara laughed.

The doctor turned to look at Clara and he took her back to the TARDIS, pulling up the screen he began to flick through videos throughout time.

“All the timelines past, future and present, the song is nearly as old as time itself, it says that a deadman called out for his love to flee.”

“Yeah?”

The doctor pulled up another video, a beautiful face filled the screen, smiling from ear to ear, and he pointed to the laughing person.

“This is the original story.”

Clara looked confused.

“The deadman did not call for his love to flee, it was the deadman’s Love who called for him to flee and took his place.”

“Oh don’t be silly doctor, it’s made up. A story.”

“It’s not just a story Clara !” He snapped.

He spun around and he looked at the screen in desperation.

“It’s the story of how my spouse died…”

“You were married…?”

The doctor nodded and sat down on the table, holding a hand over his mouth as he looked at the screen.

It was replaying the same moment over and over again, the only moment he had of you.

Clara slowly walked over and sat next to him.

“It was the last days of the time war, and they were going to punish me. They knew what I was going to do and had to stop me…”

“How…?”

“Prophecy, but there was one thing the high council were missing.”

The doctor sent the TARDIS into flight, nowhere special in mind, just flying around aimlessly.

“What happened to them doctor…?”

“A prophecy, one that the high council couldn’t even foresee, something that was always going to happen. The time war was always going to end, and (Y/N) knew this. They had foreseen this as well, and they had foreseen my death. They couldn’t let that happen, so at the last moment they took my place.”

“Then what…?”

The doctor sighed, wiping a few of his tears.

“(Y/N) was locked in a time lock on a planet, nobody can access it. The time lords didn’t want to kill them because they were to be the next prophet.”

He turned to Clara.

“That song is the story told by the time lords on the last days, passed through time and space, turned into a silly little song. It’s the last moments of (Y/N)… the last moments of the person i swore to look after…”

“Can’t you find them?”

“You can’t get past a time lock even if I could I can’t get past it.”

Clara reached up and she hugged him tightly, and the doctor gently hugged her back.

“I’m sorry…”

He sighed and looked back at the screen, and he saw that the imagine had changed, showing a map of the universe with one spot flashing.

“What?” He asked.

He got up and looked at it.

“What’s going on?”

“The TARDIS has decided to take us somewhere…”

“Where?”

He looked at Clara.

“I don’t know…”

When the TARDIS stopped he ran out and he looked around the planet, it wasn’t much, just dust and dirt. He stepped out fully, and he looked around confused.

“Why would it bring us here?” He asked.

“It’s just a barren planet.” Clara mumbled.

“No, no there has to be more.”

He began scanning the area, trying to find anything, and when he looked at the screwdriver, he furrowed his brows.

“It’s picking up something, a sound wave.”

He made his way back to the TARDIS and Clara ran after him.

She could hear the voice but she couldn’t make out the words.

“Why can’t I understand it?” She asked.

“That’s impossible…” he whispered

“What? What is it?”

The doctor turned to Clara with wide eyes.

“Its Gallifrian… it’s why the TARDIS won’t translate it…”

“But I thought you were the only one?”

He looked back at the console and ran outside again, trying to pinpoint the sound.

“It’s not coming from here, but it originated from here, I can trace it!”

So that’s what he did, he traced the sound to the start of time, to the end of its reach, to the past and future of earth until he landed in the present once more.

“Its coming from here…”

They both stepped outside and they looked around, and the doctor could faintly here the song, so he followed it He ran after it, chasing it all around London until finally he found himself at the top of a building, gasping for air.

He slowly stood up and he began to looked around.

“Doctor look…” Clara whispered.

She pointed and the doctor looked, Clara smiled, placing a hand on his arm.

“I’ll wait downstairs.”

She left and the doctor just stared at your back as your voice radiated softly and quietly, a frequency only for him.

You slowly stopped singing and you turned around a gentle smile on your face.

“Impossible…”

You took a step forward, and you slowly lowered yourself to the floor as your legs threatened to give way.

“(Y/N)!”

The doctor ran over to you, and he knelt in front of you, placing his hand in the side of your face, looking you up and down.

“I’m okay.. I’m okay…”

Tears ran down his face and you looked up at him, gently brining your fingers up to brush against his skin.

“You’ve changed my love…”

“Yet you’re still as beautiful as always.” He smiled.

You laughed softly and shook your head a little bit. You breathed deeply and he looked at you in concern.

“It’s okay.. I just… I used a lot of energy to get here…”

“Let’s get you back to the TARDIS..”

He swept you into his arms, and you rested your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeats.

The doctor kept flicking his gaze to you, making sure you were still there, still okay He got to the bottom and Clara looked at him.

“I need you to open the doors.”

“Of course!”

She ran to open the doors and let the doctor and you in.

“Come and find me later.” She smiled.

With that she left and the doctor laid you down on the chairs and he covered you up with his jacket, brushing his knuckles against your cheek.

“Get some sleep…”

You nodded your head.

While you were sleeping he did all the checks he needed to on you, making sure you were actually you, checking your mind, listening to your hearts.

It was a few days until you woke up again and you finally sat up, pulling your husbands coat over you and you looked around.

The TARDIS doors were open and you got up, walking over to the doors you stepped outside and looked around.

The TARDIS had moved, and you were in a park, and he was sitting on a bench.

“Ever the thinker…” you spoke softly.

He looked up at you and quickly stood up, rushing over to you.

“You’re real. I checked.”

“I’m hurt you’d ever doubt me.”

He laughed softly and he cradled your face between his hands.

“How did you get out of the time lock…?”

You sighed.

“The time lock was designed to be done every so often… it wasn’t strong enough to hold me, they couldn’t make it strong they needed their strength.. so.. it broke…”

“That song, you planted it didn’t you?” He asked.

You smiled a little bit.

“All throughout time and space so I could find you… so you could find me…”

“How?”

“I saw the prophecy before they did, so when I vanished before that day, I was planting that songs all over the universe, for this moment.”

The doctor smiled a little bit, and he let out a soft laugh.

“My ever wonderful (Y/N)…”

He ducked down, and he kissed you like he had never done before. Every ounce of love and sadness and grief and happiness all into one kiss, and every time you pulled away he leant forward to kiss you again.

And finally you gave in, and you kissed him back.

You were time locked, frozen in time, so it hadn’t been as painful for you like it had been for him. He pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you…”

“I love you too my dear darling…”

He smiled and you closed your eyes, smiling back as he hugged you.

This was where you were always going to end up, this is where you were always going to find your way back to. You had seen it, it was why you did what you did.

You had seen the future it had been foretold that you would find your way back to the doctor, and he would find you, and you would stand right here holding him.

That’s where your vision had ended, you never saw more than that, it’s where you visions stopped once you reconnected with him. But that’s all you needed.

It’s all you ever needed to know that you weren’t going to leave him for good, even if you could never explain it to him, it was enough for him that you were here. That was all the doctor needed to know, that he you right by his side, and he could hold you again

[seangelfish]

Omgggg congratulations on reaching 300 followers !!! You totally deserve it !!! I hope I'm not late to the event. Can i req fluff with tsumugi and s/o who adores the mojakko mascot of him in Switch's SSVRS game ? (It's the blue mascot in Sora's climax card) s/o loves the mascot so much she immediately bought a plush toy of him the moment it releases, and takes it everywhere, which makes him happy but a bitttt jealous that she paid attention to it more than him 😭 thanksss

Here's the first request for the Ensemble Stars portion of the event! Thank you so much for your request! ('▽^人) Your request is ranked 6th. Thank you for participating in my 300 followers event and I hope you enjoy reading~ 💙

"YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU THE BEST, RIGHT?"

Tsumugi Aoba x reader

♡ Tags: Fluff, casual romance, established relationships, fem reader, not proofread!

♡ Word count: 561

♡ A/N: I've only read the prologue to this story, so I hope that's enough! Sorry if I butchered anything in this fic because I can't find any proper translations to the actual story at all... but I hope you like it anyway! (≧◡≦)

"What are you two doing?" you asked the two boys curiously. You placed your hands on your boyfriend's shoulders as you leaned in closer to their computer screens.

"Oh, (Y/N)!" cheered Sora. "We're playing our game! We're working with someone from a game company that worked on SSVRS to make one for Switch!"

"That sounds fun, but... what are you supposed to be?" you asked your boyfriend, Tsumugi, who looked almost as confused as you were at the avatar that was chosen for him.

Sora laughed. "It's Mo-jakko!"

"Mhm, it's Mo-jakko," sighed Tsumugi with a smile. "Scary, huh?"

"Nope, it's cute!" you squealed. "Haha, it looks just like you!"

You started ruffling his hair and he let you without a single complaint or any means to stop you.

"(Y/N), you should join us!" Sora suggested. "It'll be fun!"

"Okay, why not?" you said as you sat down on the chair Tsumugi was already occupying. Now that the two of you were sharing it, it became harder for him to control his character.

But he didn't mind it. He liked how close you were sitting next to him, he didn't care that the two of you could slip out of the chair at any moment. Even when there were plenty of spare chairs in the room, he wanted to be a little selfish and have you right there next to him.

After the session, Sora mentioned that if the game receives enough praise, then Mo-jakko could have his own line of merch to which Tsumugi sighed, but agreed on how cute that may be for their fans.

But Tsumugi didn't expect you to also be interested in something so silly like that.

So when he saw you one day at work with a Mo-jakko plush attached to your side, he was rather confused. Sure, he thought it was cute and it did make him happy that you were showing love to his mascot, but he had noticed how you took it everywhere you went.

Even on dates with him.

At some point, it seemed to him that you were paying more attention to the mascot that resembled him than him himself. He didn't want to ruin your fun though, so he kept it to himself for a while, but there came a time he had to let it all out.

And because Tsumugi was one that didn't understand why his words came out like that, you were particularly dumfounded.

"Tsumugi, are you perhaps... jealous?" you asked, suppressing a laugh.

"M-Maybe?" he answered honestly. "Well, you don't talk to me the way you talk to Mo-jakko..."

You appreciated how honest he could be, so you couldn't be too mad when he finally communicated his feelings to you. You ruffled his hair, fingertips making contact with his fluffy blue locks.

"You know I love you the best, right?" you chuckled.

"Yeah, I know..." He smiled. "But... please don't forget about me, (Y/N)..."

"Who do you think I am?"

You laughed and he followed suit. He admitted it was rather silly of him to be jealous of a plushie, but he did want all of your attention on him than an inanimate object.

You pulled him in, hugging him close.

"I'll always love you more," you continued as his arms wrapped around your body. "After all, Mo-jakko can't hug me like this!"

Intro page | Ensemble Stars masterlist | #Sil300Special!

[ilikesillythings]

I could ask, Yandere Vox x Moth reader, where the reader runs away from Vox, and ends up staying in the hazbin hotel

" Only you, darling " Oh. my. STARS YES YES YOU CAN ASK THIS FUCK PLEASE TYSM I LOVE THE MOTH DEMONS AS I HAVE MY ON HH OC LIKE THAT

Vox x reader Tws; yandere themes (per usual), Idk how to tag this one tbh.. Requested also by ; @zinnia1506

Living with Vox.. wasn't the easiest. Let alone loving him. Something about him drew you in -- maybe it was his hypnotic gaze, or how he was a blue light screen, always emitting that special kind of light that captivited your little moth brain. Whatever it was used to have a tight hold around you, no matter how much you screamed at him, or him you.

He drilled it into your mind that you were to, 'trust him', and how you were his alone. Perhaps at one time, you found comfort in these words, but, it was an empty sort of comfort. Like hiding under a blanket. Sure, it's warm, soft, but soon becomes unbearable, and suffocating.

For a while you assumed there was no escape. He had his room set to a very cold tempature, not only to cool his own circuits, and the computer screens around, but to keep you from leaving. Moths didn't do well in the cold, so all you could do was wrap yourself up in a blanket or two, and your wings, feverishly rubbing your six hands together

Until the power went out. You soon realized that because the AC had turned off, the room was beginning to warm. Hastily, you stood from your rather comfrtable bed, allowing the duvet to slip off of your shoulders. Head whirrling to the side, causing your antenna to sway with the quick movments, you made your way hastily to the elevator, barefoot, in only a par of shorts, and loose t-shirt,

Frantically, you pressed the 'up' button, no longer caring if Vox were to see you leaving. He'd eventually notice, and find you - he had cameras everywhere, "Fuck-!" You cured, finger aggressively pressing the button

After what seemed like far too long, the elevator began moving up, your wings jolting out slightly at the sudden movement.

Perhaps an eternity passed before the elevator halted, allowing you to cautiously walk out, each step took carefully, as if the floor would collapse at any moment. Maybe it was silly how paranoid you were, mind racing with worries.

Vox had eyes everywhere. He could spy on people through any tech made by his company, cameras -- most things tech related. Which made getting away from his prying gaze even harder. As quick as the thoughts ran through your mind, you began running, out of the building, ignoring the stares from employees - who thankfully gave you nothing more than a glance with a raised eyebrow.

The cool of the air outside hit you like a truck. How long had it been since you'd been outside anyways? Months? Maybe a year or two? You couldn't remember. It was bright. Oh so bright. It all made your head spin, in a good and bad way.

Although you knew it was too soon to be relieved, and feel safe, but how could you not? Finally out of that little pocket of Hell. "Think, {Y/N}!" You internally screamed at yourself, desperately trying to think of a place Vox didn't have cameras.

That was when it hit you. The Hazbin Hotel. You were sure since the Radio demon was there you'd be at least safe from Vox. With this in your mind you ran out the door, past the mass amounts of screens owned by VoxTek. It seemed like hours before you saw the hotel coming closer, and you broke into a faster sprint, despite everything aching badly

Loudly, you rapped your knuckles against the door, with a desperate speed. The door flung open, revealing Alastor himsef. "Well isn't this interesting? Aren't you Vox's little pet?"

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for telling people I don’t work here?

Ok so it’s Saturday morning and I (28M) don’t have a lot on my mind, besides like maybe lunch, I’m a little hungover so I go to the supermarket really to just get out of the house. Then suddenly this woman approaches way to fast and her eyes are intense And she spits on me a little as she asks, “where do you keep the pasta?” and I’m confused but I try to be polite so I say, “I dunno aisle 3?” And then she demands get it for her! I just stand there for a moment because I was just trying to get a Gatorade and I don’t want to deal with this, but then she rolls her eyes and I kind of lose it. 

So I tell her, “Hey! I don’t work here and if I did I would not sell you shit!” And then I say, ”Maybe should work here so I can hide all the things you want from you!” and, “If I did work here do you think I’d be wearing a dirty white singlet? Ya fool!” Then I noticed the pasta was there the whole fucking time so I tell her, “Silly me I’ve had the pasta all along. Fuck you” and she starts crying. 

So now it’s the afternoon and I’m not going to lie, I feel really great about making a middle age woman cry today. So I’m taking a walk on the hot sand on the beach and decide to take a rest in the shade of the lifeguard tower (and my foresight readies me for melee) so then this man runs up from the surf way to fast, with a bluebottle across his chest he shakes me as he asks “you’ve got to save my kid!” But I can’t swim, so I tell him that, and he gets all upset and goes “what kind of a kid guard are you then?” And I’m tired and just wanted to take a nap but he rolls his eyes so I kind of snap.

And I tell him “Hey! I don’t work here but if I did I would not save your kid!” And then I tell him “maybe I should work here that way I could help relieve that nasty sting for you” and I tell him “do you think a life guard would make a race car out of sand then fall asleep?” And then I get a bit sidetracked thinking about how I should probably get a job and I guess I’m mumbling because the guy asks if I was thinking about saving his son and I tell him no and he says “What about my son, he's drowning?!” Then I look over his shoulder and see that no he isn’t and I tell him "Your son's fine, he just swims weird, and you shouldn't hold that against him.” And the guy turns around to check and I take that as my moment to get out of there.

So it’s night now and I’m not thinking about much just kicking a ball down the street then I give it to much juice and it flies over the fence of my local NASA compound (just bear with me) I climb over the fence to get it when I realize the guards are all passed out and it seems there’s been a planed attack. The alarms are blaring but I’m the only one in tact. I try to phone for help but something must be blocking it. And they’re an alien transmitting itself to NASA screens specifically. And the alien says “Give us ya planet” and I’m trying to figure out way to do or find any one who can actually handle this and I tell the aliens but it just repeats “Give us ya planet” and I try to get someone to answer me and tell them we’re under attack and again the alien says “Give us ya planet” and I try to tell it that I don’t have the authority to do that but it just won’t listen. I just came to get my ball but it’s been a long day so I’ll speak for all of humanity. 

(Also I didn’t know this at the time but apparently this had worldwide news coverage)

So I tell the alien “Hey! I don’t work here and if I did I would not surrender shit!” And I tell it “maybe I should work here that way I could take a trip to mars and strangle you!” And I ask “Do you think the president of Earth has a fucking mullet?” And at this point I’m just letting out all the anger from the day and I tell it  “maybe I should work here that way I could put my planetary fist in you, I could teach your kid to drown in front of you, and I could hide all of the linguini from you!” 

Then the alien fucked right off and also I’m the president of earth now. So AITA

[gabessquishytum]

Not especially horny, but I had the thought of retired Dream having to learn corporeality again (like everyone, lol).

I specifically pictured him... being bad at Video games. He'd love them, they've got such beautiful stories, and it's so like a dream, the setting is something given and the player decides what they'll do.

But he's not that good, because he hasn't got the hand-eye coordination, and the buttons are just so fiddly, and so it becomes a regular occurrence for Hob to see Dream coming to him with pleading eyes, extending the controller his way.

And for every ledge he hops for Dream, for every monster he kills, he gets a kiss on the cheek. Hob loves it. He also loves watching Dream play, because even if it takes him a moment, he's so immersed, so excited about it.

After a few months Dream has gotten better at being human, but not at video games. It takes for Hob to come home early and finding Dream expertly smashing around a Zelda boss to find out that Dream has been... lying, a bit. He's very sorry about it, really, but he just likes when they do this together, and if Hob could forgive him?

But Hob just smiles and tells him about multiplayer games.

Dream is not, actually, good at those, because shortly after starting their first game together, because it turns out that kisses on the cheek for killed monsters are more difficult when you're both trying to look at the screen.

And it's even more difficult to kill said monsters when you've just discovered that apparently, your best friend/housemate is not at all against being kissed on the mouth.

This is the cutest thing I've ever read I'm literally dying!!! Also!!! I feel like we don't talk about Hob and video games enough and I think he would absolutely love them. He would spend hours staying up until 2am with his eyes aching from staring at the screen because he's so engrossed. And Minecraft!!! He would love Minecraft so much!!!!!!! So would Dream!!!!!!!! Imagine retired Dream making a whole little world in Minecraft and its like he can rediscover a spark of creativity he thought was utterly lost to him!!! Anyway.

So Dream starts out playing Kirby or something with pretty cute graphics and stories but. He does struggle with the jumping and the switching skills and so Hob is like ok. Let's try a different story kind of game. And then they try Zelda which Dream really loves but again. He's a little bad at it. Hob gets to be the hero, beats up the bosses, and Dream gets to run around doing silly little quests. Hob gets many kisses. All is right with the world.

He was a bit suspicious that Dream seems to be spending so much time on his games without his skills improving, but he doesn't exactly mind. The worse Dream is at killing monsters, the more kisses Hob gets. Except the truth is, Dream is now definitely better at the game than Hob...

And when Hob catches him beating a boss for the first time, of course he has to give Dream a kiss in return. A slow, soft kiss on the lips that makes Dream drop his controller and melt into Hob’s arms. Hopefully he saved his progress, because suddenly he's being carried off in the direction of Hob’s bedroom like Peach being carried off by Bowzer (only with a lot less protesting, and no pesky plumber coming to rescue him).

(I need you all to know that I really really really like golf games like Golf with Your Friends and Golf It so I have vivid scenarios in my brain about Dream and Hob playing together. The glitching golf balls. The bizarre courses. The rage. Hob making terrible puns about holes. Whoever wins on each hole gets a kiss. Hob absolutely loses on purpose so he can kiss his beloved <3)

[harrywavycurly]

Southern Comfort Part 4: Fiddlesticks

Masterlist: Here

CW: None

A/N: Harry might’ve just fallen in love but who knows? I hope y’all enjoy and this is mainly just giving his side of the phone call✨

Harry rubs at the back of his neck as he looks at the clock in his kitchen as it changes to eight fifty nine, now all he has to do is wait arguably the longest minute of his life before he can hit the call button on your contact page he has ready to go on the screen of his phone. He can’t remember the last time he felt this nervous for a phone call that wasn’t related to his career. He can’t exactly explain why he finds himself wanting to talk to you ever since he wound up with your number three nights ago but he knows it has something to do with the fact he can be himself with you since you don’t know exactly who he is minus the few details he’s given. You accept him and all his little quirks because as he’s learned over the last day or so, you have a few of your own as well. While he wants to try to learn everything there is to know about you he knows it’s not exactly fair since he can’t share everything about himself with you, or at least not yet. He shakes his head to rid himself of the thoughts swirling around in it as he looks at the clock.

Harry reaches for his phone the moment he sees the numbers change to show that it’s finally nine. He puts his thumb over your contact ready to hit the call button when he feels his heartbeat quicken as he sees the words My Texas Tornado flash across his phone screen causing his eyes to go wide as he realizes that you’re the one calling him. He almost drops his phone trying to hit answer while bringing it up to his ear, he gathers himself a bit before he tries to quietly clears his throat.

“Hello-” before Harry can finish his greeting your voice is coming through his phone introducing yourself to him, finally giving him your actual name and he swears he’s never heard a sweeter sound and it takes him off guard making him have to grip the edge of his countertop for support. “It’s lovely to finally uhm meet you but you do know I was set to call you right? You didn’t have to-”

“It’s nice to meet you too sugar plum.” Harry smiles at how thick your accent is, almost like he can picture each word practically rolling off your tongue. “But I did wait five minutes for you to call and then decided I should take things into my own hands.” He looks at his clock and feels his brows furrow when he sees it still says nine in the morning, he looks down at his watch to check if it says the same thing and it does.

“Five minutes? Love it’s just now a minute past nine.” He explains as he runs a hand through his hair and that’s when he hears it for the first time, your laugh. It’s loud but also soft as it hits his ears and swiftly moves to the top of the list of one of his favorite sounds. He feels himself grin as he tries to picture what you look like when you laugh because if the sound is anything to go off of he just knows you look absolutely beautiful when you laugh.

“Oh fiddlesticks I forgot I set my clock five minutes fast so I’m never late to anything.” Harry can’t help but chuckle as you explain yourself. “Don’t you laugh at me Harry that’s not polite and you’re a gentleman remember?” He feels his cheeks get hot when you say his name and he’s very thankful in this moment that he lives alone because he can’t imagine how silly he looks all flush faced and giggly while just standing in his kitchen with his phone up to his ear.

“My apologies love but you just said fiddlesticks how was I supposed to hear that and not laugh?” He asks as he quickly pulls the phone away from his ear so he can put you on speaker before placing it on the counter next to his electric kettle. He hears you let out a huff and then some shuffling and what he can only assume is the sound of a door closing making him raise an eyebrow at his phone.

“Why don’t they make mugs easier to hold while also talking on the phone and trying to lock your front door?” He doesn’t know if you’re actually asking him or not but he likes the way your voice sounds when you’re flustered. “Like I have a purse and all that but you can’t go putting a coffee mug in your purse or that’ll get really messy really quickly.” He hears the sound of your keys jiggling as you place them back into your purse.

“Well they do have those things called handles that are supposed to be good for that sort of thing.” He can practically hear you rolling your eyes and that makes him fight the urge to laugh. “Off to the store?” He asks as he grabs his phone and heads for his living room.

“You have a good memory honeybuns.” Harry smiles and shakes his head at the petname having difficulty picking which one he likes the best now that he’s heard them all in your sweet thick southern accent that he has decided reminds him oddly enough of honey.

“I want to say thank you but in all honesty you did just tell me these plans yesterday.” He admits as he places the phone on his coffee table before sitting on the couch and leaning forward so his elbows are resting on his knees and his hands are clasped together so he can rest his chin on them.

“What time is your meeting?” Harry hears a faint sound of a bell that lets him know you’ve entered a shop of some sort. “Hold on for a moment sugar.” Before he can say anything in response he hears some shuffling and then the sound of someone’s voice saying your name. “Hey Kathy! I’m just seeing how Teddy’s feeling?” Harry leans back so he can get comfortable on the couch as he listens to you talk to Kathy. “Oh bless his little heart.” He feels his face drop at the slight sadness in your voice. “Well let me know if y’all need anything okay? And tell him we miss him in class and can’t wait for him to be back whenever he gets to feeling better.” Harry can just tell by the tone of your voice that you’re being sincere.

“Is Teddy feeling poorly?” He asks once there’s a few moments of silence letting him know your conversation with Kathy was over.

“Is that how you say he’s sick? If so then yes poor Teddy has the flu and just can’t seem to shake it so I’m gonna make him some of my chicken soup and his mom Kathy some banana bread.” Your answer makes Harry wonder if this is something you do all the time, make soup for the sick kids in your class and banana bread for people you know. “You think everyone likes chocolate chips in their banana bread?” Harry chuckles as he hears you let out a huff and the sound of a pen clicks in the background.

“I’d say maybe do half with and half without just to be safe?” He suggests as he looks down at his watch and sees it’s now half past nine. “Have you even made it to the store yet love?” He hears you take a sip of your coffee and he can just imagine you standing in the middle of a grocery aisle with your list and coffee mug in one hand and your phone in the other while contemplating if you should add chocolate chips to the whole pan of banana bread or not.

“I happen to live down the street from my favorite grocery store so don’t worry honey I’ve been here a good ten minutes already.” Harry smiles as he hears you take another sip of your coffee. “What time is your meeting sugar? Are you ready for it? I don’t want you getting your ass kicked and name taken again.” Harry’s head leans back as he laughs causing his hand to fall to his stomach, he can tell by the way your voice has a tinge of worry to it you’re being serious and that’s what makes him laugh even harder because the words you just said don’t match the sincerity of your voice. “If you don’t stop laughing at me I’ll make you add ten dollars to the douche bag jar Harry.” That’s what does it, Harry full on starts cackling as he slaps his hand on his leg and he feels the wetness gathering in the corners of his eyes as he squeezes them closed.

“I’m sorry love.” He tries to sound genuine but he knows it’s no use because he’s still half laughing as he speaks. “You sound so worried but you’re also saying things like kick ass and take names so it’s just a little jarring.” He explains as he hears you drop something into a cart as he tries to get himself together on the couch.

“I just don’t want you to get beat up that’s all.” Harry nods as he wipes at his eyes and takes a few deep breaths finally feeling his laughing fit coming to an end.

“My meeting is at ten thirty and I’m prepared for it don’t worry it’s just a check up to make sure we are on track with things timing wise and I know that we are because oddly enough I’m ahead of schedule with a few things.” He tries to pick his words carefully as he hears you drop a few more things into your cart.

“Oh see now that’s how you flirt with someone sugar plum.” Harry feels his hands get sweaty at your words.

“Saying I’m ahead of schedule does it for you huh?” He hears you make a fake soft whispering moaning type noise and he feels his mouth drop open.

“Oh yeah that’s exactly what does it for me.” Everything in Harry’s mind knows you’re messing with him but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like the wind just got knocked out of him as you tease him causing your accent to sound even thicker as your voice goes lower. “What things are you checking up on in this meeting?” He appreciates you quickly moving the conversation along because he honestly wasn’t sure he was going to be able to do it himself.

“Uh well I’m not-”

“I get it sugar plum you don’t have to tell me.”Harry smiles at how understanding you are as he fumbles over his words. He briefly looks down at his watch and feels his smile instantly drops.

“I’m sorry to have to leave you in the middle of your grocery shop but I’m afraid I have to head off in a minute.” He hears you let out a fake huff of annoyance that makes him chuckle as he stands up and grabs his phone off the coffee table so he can head for his front door where he keeps his car keys and wallet.

“I truly don’t know how I’ll manage the rest of my day without you laughing in my ear but I’ll do my best to get by.” Harry rolls his eyes at your teasing words as he grabs his wallet. “Have a good meeting honeybuns.”

“Thanks love you enjoy the rest of your shopping trip and let me know how your banana bread comes out.” He can practically hear you smile as he speaks while he slips his wallet into his back pocket.

“I will sugar don’t worry.” He hears you drop another item into your cart. “Well go on and say bye and hang up or you’ll never get off the phone.” Harry chuckles at how blunt you are with your honesty because it’s true, if he doesn’t hang up now he’d happily spend the rest of the day on the phone with you.

“Bye love.” With that he hangs up the phone and smiles when he sees your name on his screen before he slides it into his pocket. “I’m so fucked.” He mumbles to himself with a smile as he grabs his keys and heads out the front door.

[66sharkteeth]

Time for my weekly thoughts and man this week is a frustrating one. It was just supposed to be a cute episode w/ a sad little moment between Claude and his dad and a sweet one between Desmond and his sister but I'm so concerned for the reading comprehension of so many people after this one.

First, the one I saw talked about most-

For christ sake, YES, they can technically have kids. But you have seen the result of a human and blank having a kid. Remember Rex living in his basement for 18 years?? Remember the literal PROTESTS about the last half-blank that was born? And how she was going to be sent to a lab?? Yes, they can technically have damn children!! But nobody in their right mind CHOOSES to have a half-blank! That is all Desmond meant. Second, this was originally supposed to be commentary on just...how weird it is he's even thinking about that lol. Like I'm ngl, I always find it really weird how...interested people are in my characters breeding. Any time there's any sign of romance between a male and female character, there's tons of comments on what that would mean for their children when children aren't even a concept in their minds rn. Like why do you care what percent blank Rex and Nia would have? You think Nia's even remotely thinking about that rn? Idk, it's ALWAYS weirded me out when that's the first question people have about a ship, but it's a VERY common question, so I wanted Rosie to call out how weird it is lol. If you're one of those people who asks that tho... Then idk. Sorry. I think that's a little weird of ya!! I get eventually wondering it but why is it like always the first concern?

Second:

Rolling over more so from last week, the amount of people shocked in the recent episodes Claude is a Blank? I already ranted about this a bit in a previous post, but the amount of people acting like this is the first they're hearing of this....seriously makes me question my writing and also sad how little people must be actually reading this. There are so many instances of Claude without his mask, flat out stating he's a blank, seen with blank space, and most blatantly, stealing a drug that is only intended for blanks? And implying he's gonna use it?? Like at this point, you must just be skipping any chapters where Claude is on screen and it makes me feel like I'm wasting my time writing his scenes.

Lastly... And this one has been baffling me since season 2:

WHY DO SO MANY PEOPLE THINK JAY IS A GIRL??!!!??!???!

He has AMAB anatomy, he's use he/him pronouns the entire series, and his siblings call him "brother." Is it his hair???? Because even that was inspired by a male character!! (Usopp from One Piece) This one's been a mystery to me since s2 when he was introduced. Is it just people assume a person raising their siblings like a single parent must be a girl?? Or is it less deep than that?

Sorry for such a cranky weekly thoughts but oml I just...couldn't even enjoy the comments about Desmond being a silly protective brother because it's just one of those weeks where I feel like everyone's skipping every episode that isn't entirely focused on Rex.