#oh and my favorite song of his is actually his version of All-in

[whitehairandtraumatized-bracket]

White Hair and Trauma Brawl Round 1; Poll 70

remember, voting is based on swag, trauma, and favoritism!!

trauma and propaganda under the cut!

Trauma! 

Winter: Uhh it's been years since I read wof give me a second. Brother dead none of his family likes him kind of an outcast of his tribe. Listen I can't remember specifics but I just Know

Piko: SO before Piko even released he was suffering. Basically him and Miki were owned by a company called HEARTFAST and they went bankrupt at just the right time that the two voicebanks had to be given to someone else to be produced and released. Miki was given to AH-Software, and Piko to Ki-oon (owned by Sony)

And thus the siblings were split up

But hey, things happen all the time. Maybe it would get better?...a week before release, Sony released a trial version of him. In tiny print they put that you couldn't post anything with this trial version. People either didn't see this or didn't listen but dude it's a trial version his voice comes out in 7 days, what could go wrong? Well, Sony started taking down the videos. This upset people, naturally, and so some people made the decision to not support the voicebank.

Eventually this finally clears up but *here comes kagamine rin and len with the steel chairs* because 19 days later their append vocals released, roadrollering Piko's poor ass out of the limelight he already was not getting. Now here's the thing-- this happened to Gakupo too (released super soon after Rin and Len act 2) but unlike Sony, Internet Co. Didn't piss off people in the vocaloid fandom first. Oh, and he wasn't the 2nd to last release for the V2 program (a title Piko only got because VY2 had the grace to be delayed several times)

Anyway  after a bit his voicebank does start getting more popular, but there's still a lot of. Issues.

First of all, the only person really putting effort into his marketing is his voice provider (the only merch of him was stuff made because they were making it of his voice provider too, like the cospa graphig and the promotional images for the sakurane album)

AND THEN a song was released with his voicebank in it that his become one of the most INFAMOUS VOCALOID SONGS (sh*ta sh*ta Island* -- search at your own risk, it's. Well it sure exists) and imo it's not even tuned well.

And so that (plus jokes about him being a "trap") became the 1 joke people made about him. For YEARS (this didn't fade out of popularity until around 2021-22ish)

Piko of course gets a giant burst of popularity finally. By now his voice provider has left Ki-oon, so unless another company buys his voicebank there's nil chance he's getting updated out of V2 into the newest vocaloid version or to another synth.

Years pass. Every single V2 vocaloid that wasn't already updated to V3 updates to V4. V5 releases. It is completely incompatible with V2

There are only 6 un-updated V2 voicebanks remaining

Piko is the only Japanese V2 voicebank among them -- the others already announced to have no update intentions.

August 20th 2020

Piko's voicebank is marked sold out on the Sony website

The first un-updated V2 to be marked as sold out

He is free

His voicebank explodes with popularity after this, of course, because the universe really likes being cruel, I guess.

Anyway -- Piko's voicebank (specifically the song My Own // Boku no Mono by Circus-P) was the reason I decided to buy VOCALOID

So I wanted to submit him

(*mod note: im not gonna link shota shota island im not subjecting y'all to that mess)

Propaganda!

Piko: THE KAKYUUKEI COVER OF ABNORMALITY DANCIN' GIRL !!!! Actually just any Kakyuukei cover in general !! His voice is so beautiful and he is also beautiful. You can make him anything you want. He was released for the same program as THE Hatsune Miku

[Winter did not receive propaganda. rip.]

[givemaycoffee]

.

[tsunomenom]

my fault: lando | ln4 smau

♡ summary: you star in my fault: london and the internet can’t stop comparing your onscreen love interest to your real life boyfriend, lando norris

♡ pairing: lando norris x singer/actress!reader

♡ warnings: use of yn, fluff, established relationship

♡ faceclaim: asha banks

♡ a/n: i watched my fault london and couldn’t stop thinking about how fun a smau with asha as the faceclaim would be 😭

masterlist

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

𝜗𝜚

yourusername

🎵 YN LN • Feel The Rush

Liked by lando and 635,789 others

yourusername My Fault: London is OUT!!!! AGHHH 😭🥲 i’m so proud of this movie and everyone who worked on it!! plus my song Feel The Rush is in the end credits (WTF 🥹🥹🥹) so go WATCH GUYS!!! and if that’s not enough to convince you there’s a mclaren cameo 😏

tagged: primevideo, primevideouk

View all comments

user854 “mclaren cameo” got me thinking lando just gonna pop up 😪

user206 but no queen meant an actual mclaren 🥲🥲

user173 ACTUALLY PEAK WATTPAD CINEMA 😍😍

user035 wattpad cinema is crazy 😭

pietra.pilao talented girl 🥰

yourusername love you p 😚🙃

mattbroome3 vroom vroom 🏎️ ♥︎ by author

user840 ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED

lando MY BEAUTIFUL TALENTED PRETTY TOTAL BABE OF A GIRLFRIEND EVERYONE 😍😩😝

maxfewtrell damn mate could you be anymore whipped

yourusername shush you muppet (don’t stop keep complimenting me) 🤭😝

yourusername maxfewtrell literally stfu who invited you 😒

user387 FAVORITE WAG EVER (she ate in this guys go watch it 🥹🥹🥹)

user218 guys hear me out nick is eerily lando coded….

user876 STOP CAUSE I THOUGHT THE SAME THING 😭😭

user321 THEY LOOK ALIKE FFS 💀

lilymhe best movie every pretty girl 🫶🏻

yourusername MWAH LOVE YOU BIG 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

lilyzneimer i’ve watched this way too many times i fear 🫣😭

yourusername BYEEEE ILYY

user530 the sequel is a NEEED 😭

primevideo buckle up

user408 she’s actually so pretty 😭😪

user032 when she can’t escape guys who drive mclarens >> ♥︎ by author

user321 ICONIC TBH

hattiepiastri can lando fight?

riabish no 🙂‍↔️

yourusername no (but he’d try) ☺️

maxfewtrell no he can’t

lando literally wtf 😀

hattiepiastri movie eats and so do you!!!

yourusername MWAH MWAH MWAH 😚😚😚

—— twitter

replies—

user912 ITS SOOO GOOD (BUT THE MCLAREN)

user773 THE FUCKING MCLAREN & THE LICENSE PLATE 😭😭😭

user912 LIKE THEY DID THAT ON PURPOSE 💀 ♥︎ by author

user775 YN LOOKED SO GOOOOD 😭

user773 HONESTLYYYYYYY

user925 THE NL LICENSE PLATE MADE ME CRASH OUT

user021 IT WAS CRAZY BEHAVIOR

user044 the actor even lowkey looks like lando 😭😭

user773 no cause they have some similarities it’s kinda scary 😭😭

user923 yn’s onscreen version having the same type as her irl is real af though

user773 honestly if you’re gonna kiss someone in a movie might as well be your bf’s lookalike 😭😭

user856 ITS SUCH A GOOD MOVIE I LOOK PAST THE WATTPADYNESS OF IT 😭😭😭

~~~

user550 BYE THATS DIABOLICAL 😭😭😭😭

user773 i hope yn sees these tweets cause this is wild 😭😭

user410 DONT WISH THAT ON ME OMFG-

user887 lando and matt ignoring that they’re kinda twins: 🧑‍🦯 ♥︎ by author

user444 yn’s too chronically online for you guys to be this bold 😭😭

user410 whoops 🥲

user923 mad respect for coming up with that one

yourusername STOP STFU 😭😭

user410 NO LOOK AWAY MY LOVE IM SOOO SORRY

user773 OH HI QUEEN 😭😭😭

user076 STOP U GUYS SCARRED HER SHE’LL NEVER INTERACT WITH US AGAIN 💀

yourusername GUYS NO DONT MAKE THIS A THING WTF-🥲🥲🥲

user923 ml i fear this is already a thing 😬

user176 LOOK AWAY LOOOK AWAYYYY

—— interview

snippet of YN LN & Matthew Broome youtube interview for My Fault: London

(pic 1: interviewer: now i'd be remissed if i didn't ask... YN how do we feel about fans online saying Nick and Lando have similarities? Matt: *laughs* YN: I honestly still don't see it! but i showed Lan a few of the tweets i saw and we all have seen many tiktoks—)(pic 2: Matt: i sent her and lando a few on instagram and was like this is f***ing nuts mates and we had a proper laugh about it YN: *laughs* it got worse when lan's siblings started seeing the comparisons and told him "he has your f***ing license plate!" but honestly i think we all just find it a funny coincidence! i mean nick does have a mclaren with a custom license plate *you shrug*)(pic 3: Matt: *laughs* although she's not a fan of me and lando calling each other twin which we have started doing just to mess with her! YN: it actually makes me mental it's the worst! Interviewer: *laughs*)

Comments —

user807 STOPP THEY THINK THE COMPARISONS ARE HILARIOUS

user776 YN is so unserious i love her 😭😭😭

user446 matt and lando calling each other twin is fucking hilarious 😭😭

user007 it honestly makes me so happy 😭😭

user310 okay but the similarities are so glaringly obvious 😭😭

user820 i love that lando has always been close to yn’s costars

user885 its boyfriend goals tbh

user431 such a good movie and the offscreen chemistry is adorable (platonic obvs)

user522 YN CALLING LANDO LAN FUCKS ME UP ISTG 😭😭😭

user032 MUM AND DAD HONESTLY

user001 love that she was probably giggling over the tweets with lando 😭😭😭😭

user045 f1 winter break has us so bored we all watched a movie because the main guy looked a little like lando norris 😭😭

user465 speak for yourself i watched for my fav wag yn‼️

user777 drop the sequel 😩😩😩😩

—— instagram

yourusername

🎵 Charli xcx • Vroom Vroom

Liked by pietra.pilao and 856,708 others

yourusername 1 week of My Fault: London!!! as a treat for streaming enjoy my lando cosplay 😚🙃☺️

tagged: mattbroome3

View all comments

user281 giving f1 driver 😍

user021 YN could drive an f1 car but lando couldn’t play Noah 😌😌 ♥︎ by author

mclaren contract is on its way 📝

yourusername mwah admin 🥰 (i will win the wdc for you bby)

lando you can’t give her my job… admin..? zak..? andrea..?

mclaren lando sorry who is lando norris? we only know YN LN 🤷‍♀️ ♥︎ by author

user630 i have watched it four times (ITS AMAAAZZZZINGGG) ♥︎ by author

lando i’ve watched it 10 get on my level 🤨

user630 lando pack it up nick leister wannabe

yourusername user630 BYE 😭

user388 ICON LEGEND GIVE HER THE WDC ALREADY HONESTLY

lilymhe woaaah racing driver 😍

yourusername 😝😏

alex_albon i- wow

lando you soooooooooooo pretty 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

yourusername omg it’s lando norris 🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢

lando u single????? can i have ur numberrrrrrr 😍😍

yourusername noo i have a bf 😨😨😨

lando yourusername NOOOOO 😓😓😓😓😓😓😓😓😓😓😓

maxfewtrell sometimes you make me question why i’m friends with you 🙂‍↔️

yourusername maxfewtrell wdym? aren’t you his wag??

user995 SOOOO PRETTYYYY 😍

mattbroome3 quick like norris quick like lando norris 🏎️🏎️

lando hey that’s me 🫢

mattbroome3 lando wait- twin… is that you?

yourusername don’t be slow stegosaurus..? 🏎️

yourusername mattbroome3 stfu 🙂

pietra.pilao missed opportunity to use sports car as the song 😪

yourusername YOURE SO RIGHT 🥲

user886 actually obsessed 😭😪

user930 ICONS

user765 so… anyone else think these two look cute together??

user176 no. that’s just you.

user004 hey so she has this really really cool bf and doesn’t enjoy being shipped with costars! hope this helps! 🙂

user032 go away.

lando some people shouldn’t have the internet.

yourusername NO THEY REALLY DONT 🙂

yourusername lando istg 😭😭

riabish actually best racing driver i’ve ever seen 🤷‍♀️

yourusername it’s true get me in that mclaren zbrownceo

lando yourusername hey so that’s my boss 🙂

yourusername lando i know 😊

user912 she’s gonna pull the race scene this season and race for lando 😭😭😭 ♥︎ by author

user321 ik this is a joke but pls could you IMAGINE 😭😭😭😭

user995 this photo is actually papaya’s lineup this season

user039 all i see is best driver ever and walmart lando 🏎️🏎️

user995 user039 WALMART LANDO IS CRAZY 😭😭

lando YOURE CRAZY IF YOURE NOT STREAMING THE SHIT OUT OF THIS MOVIE‼️‼️‼️‼️

yourusername guys… i think he might kinda like me 🤭🤭🤭

~~~

lando.jpg

🎵 Tate McRae • 2 Hands

Liked by lnfour and 255,890 others

lando.jpg movie star 🏎️

View all comments

user921 HE REMEMBERED THE PASSWORD TO SHOW OFF HIS GIRLFRIEND YASSSSS 😍😍

lnfour our favorite movie star!! ♥︎ by author

pietra.pilao the models hot can i have her number??

lando.jpg no.

yourusername yes 🤭

maxfewtrell yourusername you can’t steal my girlfriend!

user982 he remembered his password ‼️‼️‼️

user765 give her all the awards‼️ ♥︎ by author

primevideo movie star? or supermodel? 😍

yourusername omg 🤭🤭🤭

lando.jpg watch it 😒

quadrant we 🫶 YN

user254 coolest movie star in the world 😍😍

user087 my fault is such a good movie and YN slayyed 🤩

mattbroome3 omg guys twin posted‼️

yourusername STFU 😭😭😭

lando.jpg ITS MY TWIN ☺️☺️

maxfewtrell lando.jpg i thought i was your twin 🥲😕

user470 using 2 hands on a pic of his gf is so real 😭😭

user708 i love him for that tbh

user003 it’s fucking iconic 😭😭

user034 MOM AND DAD FRFR

user007 OBSESSED FAVORITE WAG TALENTED QUEEN 😍😍

user517 models are lucky YN chose acting and singing for a career cause DAMN 😍😍

user021 HONESTLY

lilyzneimer ITS MY FAVORITE RACING DRIVER YN LN 😍😍

yourusername FLATTERED AFFF 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

oscarpiastri this just… this just hurts 😕

lando.jpg damn that’s cold 😭😭

lilymhe mm real af mine too 🤭

alex_albon lilymhe OKAY—

yourusername AHH I LOOK GOOD 🤭🤭🤭🤭

lando.jpg YOU ALWAYS LOOK GOOD 😍😍😍😍

yourusername i love youuuuu this is so cutesyyyy 🥹����🥹🥹🥹

lando.jpg MY FAVORITE PERSON IN THE WORLD TALENTED AMAZING BEAUTIFUL I LOVE YOU TOO 🥹🫶🫶

[nadvs]

wish you’d ask me (one-shot)

pairing zach maclaren x female reader

summary you and your friend zach are on your way to a weekend retreat when suddenly, you wake up in the hospital with a concussion. zach is relieved you’re okay, until he realizes that you’re under the impression that he’s your boyfriend.

tags plot-flip of ‘the other zoey’ where reader loses her memory. college setting. friends to lovers. mutual pining. mentioned song is ‘red love’ by dream ivory (zach gives indie soft boy yfm). angst and fluff. no smut. hugs to my zach girlies @juniebugg & @nemesyaaa <3 divider credit.

» masterlist

››› friday

“Uh oh,” you mumble.

“What is it?” Zach asks. His gaze is fixed ahead, the snowy road a stretch of glittering white under the afternoon sun. You bring your phone up closer to your face.

“Chase just texted the group,” you explain. “Apparently, the furnace broke.”

“Uh oh,” he echoes.

“Exactly,” you say with a defeated laugh. “What now? Do we cancel? We can’t be out there all weekend with no heat.”

Zach checks the time on his dashboard to see you have thirty minutes left of the drive to the cabin you rented with your friends. The four of them are already there, waiting for you two.

“Nevermind,” you say. “Esha texted. The only thing broken is Chase’s sense of humor. I’m this close to throwing him outside and locking the door.”

You hold up your hand in a pinching motion.

“And she used this emoji,” you explain with a giggle.

Zach’s eyes drift to you, an endeared smile pulling on his lips.

“Appreciate the demonstration,” he says.

He reaches a red light and forces himself not to stare at you. He’s afraid that one day, his feelings for you will refuse to stay stuck in his heart and he’ll just blurt them out.

The past hour in the car with you has been a dream. Really, any time he spends with you is a dream. You’re usually all together as a group, so he cherishes the rare moments he gets to be alone with you.

He knows admitting his feelings to you comes with the risk of losing your friendship and fracturing the bond you both have in the group. But sometimes, it’s like keeping them in actually physically hurts.

“What’s your favorite emoji?” you ask. “No, wait.” You think back to the texts you’ve exchanged over the many months you’ve been friends. “I already know. It’s the guy running. Your version of saying on my way.”

“It’s efficient,” he replies with a shrug.

“Okay, so, what’s your second favorite emoji?” you say.

Zach laughs heartily and says, “You never run out of questions.”

“Do you mean that in a ‘you’re so much fun’ way,” you ask, “or in a ‘I’m too nice to say it, but shut up’ way?”

“Please don’t shut up,” he says in a rush. “You’re keeping me entertained.”

“It’s the least I can do after you stayed back for me.”

You were the only person in your friend group who had a class you couldn’t miss today. Zach offered to leave for the cabin with you, saying he had an important essay he wanted to finish this morning anyway, while everyone else drove up last night.

He had already finished that essay two days ago.

“It was no problem,” he replies. He means it. Nothing is too difficult for him if it’s for you.

“I’ll still pay you back,” you say. You stifle a yawn, fighting off the fatigue that’s been melting into you for the past hour. “What can I get you? What do you want most in the world?”

Zach chews on his bottom lip, pretending to think, when really, what he wants most in the world is sitting in his passenger seat, the prettiest and kindest girl he’s ever known, her gaze burning into him in his peripheral vision.

“A life-changing cup of hot cocoa,” he replies.

“Big ask, but you got it,” you agree with a laugh. “You can enjoy it in your grandpa pj’s.”

Zach smirks. A few nights ago, on a group video call, you amusedly pointed out the plaid button-up he was wearing in bed.

“They’re comfortable,” he counters.

“They’re still pajamas an old man would wear,” you tease. Your phone buzzes in your lap. “It’s Chase. Esha ruined my prank. Scaring us that we’ll freeze? What kind of prank is that?”

“He’s ridiculous,” Zach laughs.

The six of you met back when you were put together for a group project. You all got along so well that you started hanging out outside of class. Zach has grown to deeply care for everyone in the group. You, especially.

“I’ve been playing my music this whole ride,” you realize. “It’s only fair that you get to choose the songs for the last stretch.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures. “You’re a good dj.”

“For once in your life, stop being so nice and just play what you want,” you tease. “Since your phone is the GPS, we can keep using mine. Do you have any public playlists?”

He scratches his cheek, nerves filling his chest.

“You’ll make fun of me,” he says.

“Zachary,” you gasp. “When have I ever made fun of you?”

“Like, a minute ago.”

“Other than that.”

“Five minutes ago?”

You laugh again and Zach swears it’s the nicest sound he’s ever heard. Nicer than any song either of you could put on.

“My music is either workout stuff or just… sappy,” he admits.

“I’d expect nothing less,” you respond with a chuckle. “No pressure, but I promise, I won’t judge.”

He breathes a laugh and tells you his username, praying he can keep a straight face if the songs he listens to when he’s thinking about you play.

You tap on the playlist he titled ‘Relaxing’ and sink back in your seat as you gaze out the window. The glass is a little fogged, the world looking like it was dusted with powdered sugar.

The gentle guitar spills out of the speakers as your eyes travel over snow-covered peaks of evergreens that line the road.

Your heart pulls once you hear the song’s first lines, curious if Zach relates to them.

I’m the type of guy, trying not to fight

Not so perfect but I always try to bring the light

He’s easygoing and optimistic – that much is true. But not so perfect? If you had the chance, you’d tell him how perfect he is, over and over again.

Your eyes slowly flutter shut, lulled by the melody. You tell yourself not to daydream about the man sitting next to you when you’re certain he doesn’t feel the same way you do, but it’s easier said than done.

You can’t help it. The longer you’re Zach’s friend, the more you have to yearn for. You’re convinced he has the purest heart you’ve ever known.

But through the conversations you’ve had with your friends about your love lives, you’ve learned that Zach is a romantic, never nervous to pursue a girl he likes. And if he liked you, you’re sure he’d have told you by now.

When you swore Esha and Maggie to secrecy regarding your crush on him, they were confident he feels the same way. You still aren’t.

I don’t wanna feel insecure about a thing

But she makes me feel like I don’t even know what’s happening

Pull me closer and it’s like I forget what was wrong

The thought of pulling Zach closer, of making his insecurities and problems go away makes your stomach twist with warmth.

And then, you’re lying in bed with him, cocooned in a fluffy duvet, your hand on his cheek as you gaze at him. Your heart is full, the air buzzing with love. He worryingly asks you if you slept enough. You nod and he tells you how beautiful you are and you press your lips on his.

Sudden stillness stirs you awake. You meet his sweet blue eyes.

Oh. You fell asleep. And you had a dream about Zach so tender that your heart is still racing, your lips tingling from the kisses he never even gave you.

“Did we make it?” you murmur, tumbling back into reality, grounding yourself in the fact that you’re in a parked car, not a cozy bed.

“Not yet,” Zach says. “I wanted to make a quick stop. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You look through the windshield to see a convenience store sign, the bottom skirted in translucent icicles.

“It’s okay,” you stutter, unbuckling your seatbelt. “It’ll be good to stretch my legs.”

Cold air pricks your cheeks when you step out of the car. Even though Zach has no idea what your subconscious just threw you into, it’s embarrassing to be around him after such an romantic dream.

You round the car and approach the front door, which Zach is holding open for you. In your daze, you realize you forgot your wallet.

“My wallet,” you say in a hush, turning back.

“I’ll cover it,” Zach offers.

But you’re already scurrying to the car. And then, you lose your balance.

.❅❅❅.

The weight in Zach’s stomach is catastrophically heavy.

You’ve been in a confused daze since your fall. And he’s worried sick.

He stands next to you as you sit in bed, blinking slowly. Since he helped pick you up off the icy concrete and drove you to the nearest hospital, you’ve been slowly coming to your senses.

The doctor comes in and asks a few questions. You get the first few right – your full name, your date of birth, your major, your address. All said confidently, even through the fog blocking your mind.

That’s a relief.

But then, you’re not sure what day of the week it is. You can’t tell her what you had for breakfast. And, most confusing of all, when the doctor asks if you know who he is, you say, “Zach. My boyfriend.”

He swallows hard, the word fluttering in his mind. Boyfriend?

The doctor runs a few tests, checking your coordination and reflexes, then offers a sympathetic grimace.

“You have a mild concussion. You’re not showing any serious signs I’m concerned about, but we should do a CT scan just in case.” The doctor looks to Zach. “Can you come with me to help book it?”

He nods, giving you one more worried glance before he trails the doctor out of the room.

After he tucks the appointment card in his wallet, he listens to the doctor’s instructions. Rest. Hydrate. Reduce stress. No screens. Come back if symptoms worsen.

“What if she’s remembering things wrong?” Zach asks. “I… uh, I’m not her boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

“Her memory will likely come back to her in pieces,” the doctor reassures. “It’s normal that things are jumbled. She’ll be fragile for a bit.”

“What do I do? Is it best for her healing if I play along?”

“The less stress on her brain, the better,” she says. “You can calmly tell her what she has wrong or let her believe the minor, harmless things until she’s herself again. I’m sure she’ll be better soon and you won’t even have to correct her.”

Zach’s chest strains in anxiety, worried that he’ll mess something up. The last thing he wants to do is impede your healing by stressing you out.

When he comes back into the room, your eyes light up in a way they never have for him before. He tries not to let it get to him.

“Hey,” you say lazily, gazing at him with adoration. “Is it booked? Can we go now? We’re so late.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” he says softly. “You’re injured.”

You giggle, stretching your arm out. Hesitatingly, Zach steps closer, letting you warmly hold his hand atop the thin blanket. He feels guilty for enjoying it.

“Did you tell them what happened?” you ask.

“Yeah, I – uh, I…” He begins to stammer as you gently run your fingers over his knuckles. “I should update them, actually.”

He pulls away abruptly, taking his phone out, brows furrowed. A simple touch from you is overwhelming enough, let alone when you’re only doing it because you’re concussed and confused.

You watch him text, his expression tense. He’s always like this, so worried about you. You think back to a few days ago, when he was concerned you didn’t get enough sleep as you lazed in bed together.

“Relax,” you say gently. “She said it was mild, right?”

“Yeah.” Zach keeps his eyes on the screen, unsure of how to tell your friends you’re under the impression you’re dating. “You just need to take it easy. You’ll be back to normal soon.”

.❅❅❅.

You catch up on the group texts you missed after your fall when you settle in Zach’s car. You’re reading the last message, which is Esha saying something about seeing you soon when Zach turns on the engine.

You can’t quite make out the words. Then you realize Zach’s been trying to talk to you.

“What?” you say.

“You shouldn’t look at a screen,” he says gently.

“Right.” You lower your phone. “I can barely read right now anyway.”

“Can you put your seatbelt on?”

“Yes.” You turn, the motion suddenly making you dizzy. Your eyes pinch shut and you hold your head with a pained sigh.

Zach has never been more upset at himself. He’s supposed to be taking care of you. The doctor called you fragile. He’s already messing up.

“Sorry,” he says. “Just relax, okay? I’ll take care of it.”

He leans over, pulling your seatbelt into the buckle. You keep your eyes shut, feeling his forehead brush against your cheek, enjoying the warm, rich fragrance that’s so Zach.

You might not remember everything, but you remember how much you love the way he smells.

“Thanks, baby,” you murmur and plant a kiss on his temple.

Zach’s stomach goes wild with butterflies. Heavy guilt sets in again. He can’t go on like this. It feels wrong to play along.

He pulls back and you look at him past heavy lids.

“We should talk,” he says, “about our friendship.”

He has no idea how to navigate this conversation. The doctor said to correct you calmly. There’s nothing calm about the way his heart is pounding right now.

“We haven’t told them, have we?” you ask. “I can’t remember ever acting like a couple around them. Is that what you mean?”

You think he’s talking about your friendships with the group waiting at the cabin.

This might be the best way to do this.

He’ll let you believe that you’re keeping your relationship under wraps. He’ll avoid any opportunity to be alone with you until your mind is straight again. And eventually, it’ll come to you that you and him aren’t actually together.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “We have to act like we’re just friends in front of them.”

“Why’d we decide to do that again?” you ask.

Zach nervously taps his knee.

“Malek had a really bad breakup,” he explains. “We didn’t want to rub it in his face.”

“Oh, yeah,” you say. The memory comes to you, choppy but clear enough. “Dumped via text. Poor guy.”

He flashes a relieved smile. It’s reassuring that you remember something that happened a week ago.

“Right,” he says. He puts the car in drive. The sooner he gets to the cabin, the sooner he can stop putting on this act. “We should get going.”

.❅❅❅.

Your friends are quiet and reluctant to come too close when you step into the cabin.

“Guys, I’m fine,” you laugh.

“How are you feeling?” Maggie asks, wide-eyed. “Do you remember me?”

“Of course,” you say. “It’s just a headache now.”

“You should sit down,” Zach urges behind you. He puts down the bags he brought in from the car that he refused to let you carry.

“It feels like I’ve been sitting all day,” you say. “Except for the part when I fell.”

“So, we can joke about it?” Chase asks with a grin.

“No,” Zach says. “Too soon.”

You look at him over your shoulder, chuckling.

“I think Zach’s more traumatized than I am,” you say.

“What happened exactly?” Esha asks, waving you in.

You step further into the cabin, struck by the enormous living room windows. They present a stunning view of snowy hills and picturesque cottages under the setting sun.

If it weren’t for the stubborn ache pulsing in your forehead, you’d want to explore more of the cabin. But Zach’s right. You should sit down. That walk from the car was enough exercise. You’re already dizzy again.

“It’s my fault,” Zach replies. “I stopped at some random store and that’s where she fell.”

You meet his eyes, heart breaking at the pained expression on his face. You wish you weren’t putting on a farce right now, because if you could do what you wanted, you’d pull him into a hug.

“It’s not your fault I don’t know how to walk,” you joke.

“You fell in the store?” Chase asks.

“Parking lot,” you say. “To get my wallet. Even though Zach said I didn’t need to. So, technically, it’s on me.”

You can tell by the look on his face that he’s not convinced. He’s blaming himself for this entirely.

You sit down for dinner, downing the water Zach encouraged you to drink, while he catches everyone up on how to help support your healing process.

“How do you know all this?” Maggie asks. “Concussions from playing soccer?”

“I asked the doctor,” he clarifies.

When you’re sure nobody’s looking, you reassuringly squeeze his knee under the table. He tenses up under your touch.

.❅❅❅.

After dinner, you’re bundled up in a blanket on the plush living room couch as flames crackle in the stone fireplace.

Nobody has allowed you to lift a finger. Every chore, down to putting away your dinner plate, has been taken over by one of your friends encouraging you to rest.

Zach’s on the other end of the sectional, tapping his fingers against the armrest. You remember that it’s something he does when he’s nervous. Why is he nervous? And why does he have to be so far away? You’re pretending to be just friends, but simply sitting next to you wouldn’t be suspicious, would it?

You know you’re not yourself. Your thoughts are muddy and patchy, but you’re already feeling much better than you did at the hospital because another memory suddenly blooms in your mind.

“Hot cocoa,” you say. Five heads turn to look at you as you point at Zach. “I owe you hot cocoa for staying back to drive me.”

“Yeah,” Zach says, his dimpled grin making your heart skip. “Your memories are coming back.”

You nod with a bright smile. At this moment, as he gazes at you from across the room, he realizes just how much he worries about you, he thinks of the kiss you left on his skin, and he accepts that he was wrong.

He’s not falling for you – he’s already in deep, completely enamored with no hope of pulling himself out.

.❅❅❅.

After you brush your teeth, you pad downstairs to the kitchen before you head to sleep in the bedroom you’re sharing with the girls.

You’re walking back through the dimly lit house when you hear the floorboards creak under someone’s weight. Zach rounds the corner at the bottom of the staircase.

“Hi,” you say sweetly. He towers over you and your eyes drift down to the red and black flannel he’s wearing. “The famous grandpa pj’s.”

“Yeah,” he laughs, happy you remember yet another thing.

His chest twists, conflicted because he enjoys the familiar comfort of being alone with you, but is also anxious in case you still have the wrong idea about the nature of your relationship.

“Proud of me for hydrating?” you ask, holding up the cup of water you just got for yourself.

“Very proud.” He walks past you. “Sleep well.”

You’re confused. It’s unlike him. You remember enough to know he’s typically kind and talkative.

“Hey,” you say, turning to look at him. He meets your gaze, lips slightly parted, visibly tense. “What’s wrong? You don’t really blame yourself, do you? I’m fine.”

His lips curl into a frown. He’s not convinced.

“Please don’t worry,” you continue softly, stepping towards him. “You’ve been taking such good care of me. You’re the best friend a concussed girl could have.”

Friend. Does that mean you no longer think he’s your boyfriend? Have you forgotten about the whole thing entirely?

Before he can ask to be sure, he realizes you were being playful with the word, because you quickly look over your shoulder, then unexpectedly pop up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips.

“I made sure nobody saw,” you say in an amused whisper. “Good night.”

You rush upstairs, an electric current zipping through you even though you’ve kissed him a million times before.

Zach is standing still in the hallway, heart hammering, blood running hot. He’s lost count of how many times he daydreamed about kissing you. Now, he felt your lips against his for real, and his mind and body are a jumbled mess.

There’s a chance you like him back and now feel uninhibited to offer him the affection you’ve always wanted to give him. Or you’re just confused and you’ll be horrified to learn that he let you believe you’re dating when you were dazed and vulnerable.

If your memory isn’t solid by tomorrow, he’ll have to correct it himself. And he can only hope he won’t ruin your friendship in the process.

››› saturday

You’re walking towards the kitchen, the taste of toothpaste fresh on your tongue. You’re glad you woke up with a much clearer mind. You remember more of yesterday; it’s almost a complete picture in your head.

Zach and Malek are sitting at the breakfast table, cradling mugs of coffee. Zach’s eyes dart away from yours the moment he sees you. It makes your heart sink.

“Hi,” you say to them.

“Morning,” Malek replies.

“Feeling better?” Zach asks.

“Headache’s gone,” you answer. He nods, but doesn’t look at you again.

He’s been acting weird and you’re not sure if it’s just guilt over your fall. The memory of you lying in bed with him a few days ago is so clear. What happened between then and yesterday?

You must have had a fight that you’re forgetting about. You’re sure Zach would be selfless enough to pretend that you’re on good terms while you’re concussed, but he can’t hide that he’s on edge.

“Bad sleep?” you ask, looking down at his drink. “You only drink coffee when you’re desperate.”

His eyes finally find yours again, softening when they do. It’s the early morning and he’s wearing sweats and a hoodie and his dark honey hair is a tousled mess, yet he still looks so handsome and it feels unfair to not be able to kiss him.

“You remember that, too,” he says with relief. “Anything else come up?”

“Nothing that feels important,” you admit with a shrug. Disappointment flashes over his features and you chew on your lip in saddened confusion.

Zach hates seeing the hurt on your face. He needs to have this conversation now and get it over with.

“Do you want to get some fresh air?” he asks.

“That sounds nice,” you answer.

“You’re insane,” Malek says. “It’s like the North Pole out there.”

“Exactly,” you reply with a laugh. “It makes you appreciate being inside even more.”

.❅❅❅.

You stand side-by-side on the snow-covered balcony leading out to the back of the cabin, bundled up in your coats, hats, and mittens.

“It’s so pretty out here,” you whisper, gazing out at the frozen lake hugged by patches of trees.

“It is,” Zach says. His breath comes out in a small puff of fog as he ruminates over how to tell you what he needs to tell you.

“All that ice,” you mumble, “and so many different ways to fall on it.”

He cracks a smile.

“Still too soon to joke about it,” he says.

“Even I don’t get a free pass?” you chuckle.

You reach for his hand, feeling his warmth through your mittens. Zach clears his throat and pulls out of your grasp.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” he begins. His cheeks redden. “And please hear me out. I was doing what I thought was–”

The sound of the door sliding open interrupts him. You both look back to see Malek ambling out onto the balcony with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets.

“Maybe you guys are onto something,” he says. “We didn’t come all the way out here not to appreciate the views, right?”

He stands between you two and despite the tension, you and Zach share a smile, knowingly both irritated yet amused at your friend’s clueless intrusion.

.❅❅❅.

When you head back inside, everyone else has woken up, loudly chattering in the kitchen. You’re pulled into a conversation with Esha and Maggie while Chase asks Zach to help him with starting the fire.

It’s hard to absorb the words your friends are saying after the way you and Zach left things a few minutes ago.

“Can someone turn on some music?” Maggie eventually asks. “I left my phone upstairs.”

“Sure,” you offer.

“No screens!” Esha shouts.

“It’ll just be for a second,” you laugh. You connect to the speaker. When you realize you have an unfamiliar playlist open, you curiously scroll through the songs.

Zach comes back into the kitchen, dusting off his hands.

You tap on the first track in the playlist. A slow, gentle song buzzes from the living room.

Then, it hits you like a wave.

This song played in his car on the way here. You dozed off listening to it. You woke up from a dream.

A dream.

Zach isn’t your boyfriend. He never was.

The puzzle pieces have finally snapped together, and the picture isn’t pretty.

You stare at him, the realization harsh and unsettling. The possibility of a fight you forgot about had run through your head, but the fact that you were never even together is startling.

Zach can see it immediately, the discomfort on your face. He thought he wanted you to figure it out on your own. Now that you have, he regrets not telling you the truth right away.

“Uh, my… phone is about to die,” you stammer, stopping the song. “Be right back.”

You leave the room, and while everyone else carries on conversation, Zach’s heart is in his stomach. He messed up. Possibly irreversibly.

He trails behind you, whispering your name as you rush up the stairs. You turn to face him once you reach your bedroom, nearly breathless.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, the embarrassment wringing out your insides.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Can you sit down? You need to take it easy.”

“Zach,” you assert. He sighs in worry.

“I was about to tell you outside, but then we got interrupted.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me right away?” you say. “I… oh, my God. I kissed you last night.”

Zach rakes his hand through his hair as you step back and exhale in disbelief.

“The doctor said I shouldn’t stress you out,” he explains. “I didn’t want to confuse you or embarrass you–”

“Too late,” you interrupt with a note of sadness.

It’s a punch to Zach’s gut seeing you so upset because of something he did. He’d actually prefer a real punch right now. At least then, he’d know the pain will fade. The guilt filling his chest feels like it’ll be there forever.

“I – I was doing what I thought was best,” he says. “She said you were fragile and it freaked me out and I promise, the last thing I want to do is upset you or mess with your healing.”

You can see that he’s in distress, but so are you. You spilled your heart out to him, you touched and kissed him while under the impression that you shared a love that wasn’t there.

“Please don’t think I’m a creep or something – I just – I honestly didn’t expect that kiss,” he admits. “I would’ve stopped it if I did.”

You have to look away. Why would he have stopped it? Because you weren’t in your right mind? Or because he wouldn’t ever want you to kiss him?

You hope he has it in him to at least admit if he feels anything for you. This is the time to do it after you embarrassed yourself so immensely. You stare down at the floor, silently praying that he’ll reassure you.

Zach’s throat tightens. Seeing you like this makes his shame so overpowering that his eyes start to burn with tears.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. He steps out of the room before you can see him cry. He doesn’t want to make this about him. He wants to give you space.

You’re left standing alone in the silence, your heart cracked right down the middle.

.❅❅❅.

Zach doesn’t let his gaze linger on you for the rest of the day. He’s terrified he’ll have to face his fear of losing you.

What’ll life look like without you? You met and then all of a sudden, you became a ray of light in his world, always able to make him smile, always on his mind. He can’t stomach making you uncomfortable. You looked so disgusted that he went along with a lie.

After dinner, you’re all sitting in the living room and helping Maggie set up a board game. That’s when Zach finally allows himself to look at you.

You’re sitting in front of the fireplace, quietly reading the instructions to yourself, lips moving with the words. Worrisome curiosity gnaws at him, eager to find out if your mind is clear again.

“Does reading still feel weird or is it okay now?” he asks you from across the room.

“Oh – yeah,” you say, caught off guard. You haven’t spoken since your fight this morning. “It’s okay now.”

“Where have you been, MacLaren?” Maggie laughs. “We established she’s back to normal like three hours ago.”

“Do we need to check your head?” Chase jokes.

Zach forces a laugh. He’s been too lost in his thoughts to absorb himself in the conversations happening around him all day. The possibility of making you uncomfortable simply by being in the same room as you is too heavy to ignore at this point.

“Maybe,” he says. “I should probably turn in.”

“What?” Malek shouts. “I was going to kick your ass at… what’s this game called again?”

“You can kick my ass later,” Zach mumbles, standing up. “Sorry, guys.”

“Lame,” Maggie sighs.

You keep your gaze on him as he leaves the room, but his eyes stay on the floor the entire time.

.❅❅❅.

You gently knock on the boys’ bedroom door, listening to your friends’ enthusiastic competition-fuelled conversations echoing from downstairs.

It’s been fifteen minutes since you started the board game and two since you purposely knocked yourself out of it. You excused yourself to take a shower, but your intention was always to come up and talk to Zach. Even though you’d left things so tense, you need to make sure of one thing.

“Yeah?” His voice on the other side of the door is muffled. You step into the dark room, the hallway light spilling in.

“It’s me,” you whisper into the dimness. “Sorry. You’re not sleeping, are you?”

“No. I can’t,” he admits. You hear a mattress creak. A light turns on with a click. Zach’s standing by a lamp, almost looking wounded.

You step inside, shutting the door behind you, nervous as you settle on the edge of one of the beds. He sits on another bed and faces you.

“I don’t think you’re a creep,” you say. “I just had to make sure you know that, okay?”

Zach lets out a shaky sigh. He purses his lips, nodding slowly, and when you see a shine pool over his eyes, you still.

“Thanks,” he breathes. “I hated the idea of you thinking I took advantage of you or something and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be around me if you–”

“What? Zach, no. No way.”

When he quietly sniffles, you’re certain he’s holding back tears. You knew he was sensitive, but witnessing him cry over the possibility of making you uncomfortable stings. Especially since he surely felt awkward with you touching him and kissing him, and still played along for you.

He doesn’t deserve to feel like this. You shuffle over, sitting next to him on his bed.

“Listen, I was just really embarrassed,” you say, desperate to console him. “I still am, to be honest.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to be. You were injured.”

“Yeah, but… how would you feel if you ran around kissing me just for me to tell you I never wanted you to?”

Zach’s jaw tenses. Is that what you think? That he doesn't want to kiss you? God, he’d spend all day kissing you if you let him.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” you continue, “and I get why you went along with it. I know you were just looking out for me. Sorry that I got so upset.”

“Please don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m the one who should apologize.”

“We’ll never agree on this,” you say with a quiet laugh. “We’re good, okay? I’m gonna go take a shower and if you’re up for it, you should go downstairs. I’ll come down after and make you that cocoa I promised.”

Zach laughs, genuine and warm, and it makes your heart feel like it’s floating.

“Cool,” he says.

“Cool,” you echo. You stand up, almost out the door when he stops you.

“Hey, can you…”

“What?” you ask.

“Just… be careful in the shower. Don’t slip.”

“I’ll be fine. Jeez, you fall on your head one time,” you quip. He laughs. And his smile doesn’t fade for a while after you leave the room.

.❅❅❅.

You’ve just washed the soap off your skin and are about to turn the water off when you’re plunged into darkness. Standing in the tub, naked, completely blind.

For a moment, you’re afraid this is a symptom of your concussion. But then you realize the power must have gone out. You feel for the tile wall, pushing the shower curtain to the side, more nervous to fall than you’d normally be.

“Hey, you okay in there?” Zach asks through the door. He’s nearly breathless. As soon as the lights went out, he raced up the stairs in worry, using his phone flashlight as a guide.

“Yeah,” you call. “Did the power go out?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Do you need any help or anything? I can get Esha or Maggie.”

You smile to yourself in the dark, not surprised that he’s being so considerate of your comfort. You feel for the robe you left on the counter and wrap yourself in its warmth, then open the door.

Zach’s standing in the hallway, phone flashlight aimed at the floor, concern etched into his face.

“Do we know what happened?” you ask.

Seeing you fresh out the shower feels oddly vulnerable. This is an intimate state for him to witness you in, but you’re not nervous at all, and it’s reassuring to have the hard proof that you’re not uncomfortable around him.

“I think it’s the wind,” he says. “It must have knocked a power line down.”

“Uh oh,” you reply in same way you did when Chase texted about the furnace breaking. He chuckles. At least he can find comfort in the fact that you really do remember everything.

“I’ll get dressed and meet you down there,” you say. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“Of course.”

The lights are still out when you come downstairs in your pajamas. Your friends are huddled around the fire, amber lights and gray shadows casting over their faces and on the walls. The crescent moon gleams in the cloudy sky past the massive windows.

“Were you at least at the end of your shower?” Esha asks with a defeated laugh.

“Yeah,” you say. “I was just about to get out when the room went dark. I was scared my concussion came back.”

“That’d be great timing,” Esha jokes.

“Right? While I’m naked in a tub,” you laugh, settling on the floor next to her. Zach is glad nobody’s looking at him right now, because his cheeks are burning at the mention of you being naked. “Did anyone message the owner?”

“Yeah,” Maggie says. “He’s not answering, but I don’t know what he could even do. I checked online and the whole grid is out. I think we’ll just have to wait it out.”

“Chase cursed us,” Esha says.

“How is this my fault?” he asks.

“You tempted fate with your stupid joke yesterday,” she replies. “The furnace broke. Now everything is broken. Are you happy?”

“Honestly, thrilled,” he replies. “Pretty cool to have the power to control the weather.”

You continue to chat with your friends, feeling the temperature in the cabin slowly fall. Before you know it, it’s been half an hour and the power still isn’t back on. You’re shaking from the cold.

Zach notices the way you’re curled up, arms wrapped around your legs, surely colder than everyone else since you just showered.

“We should keep the fire going,” he says. “I don’t think the power will come back on any time soon.”

“What happened to the annoying optimism we’ve grown to know and love?” Maggie asks.

“I told you guys, I traumatized him when I fell yesterday,” you say. “I broke my brain and his.”

“No offense, but I probably would’ve laughed my ass off if I saw you fall like that,” Chase jokes.

“That’s why I’m glad I was with Zach,” you retort. He smirks to himself as he builds the fire, hoping it’ll radiate more heat for you soon. “I bet when my memory was messed up, you would’ve convinced me that I owed you money or something.”

“Shit,” Chase says. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Shameless,” Esha mutters. “Guys, I think we’re going to have to sleep here in front of the fire. I bet the bedrooms are freezing.”

“Aw, it’ll be like a real sleepover,” Maggie says excitedly. “Let’s do it.”

You’re all in a fit of laughter as you bring mattresses and pillows and blankets down the stairs, already sure that this is going to be a cherished memory. What happened yesterday has given you a new perspective on life, a realization that something as simple as your memory should be appreciated.

And it’s also made your crush on Zach even deeper. He’s done nothing but look out for you, down to pretending to be your boyfriend to ease you into your healing. Now that the embarrassment has faded, you feel guilty that you were ever upset at him.

The six of you lie in front of the crackling fire, wrapped up in duvets as the wind howls outside. You’re closest to Zach, your back inches away from his chest. As you gaze at the flames, you think about the way his lips felt on yours last night.

No wonder you felt so stunned after kissing him. Your mind didn’t know it was your first kiss, but your body did. The thought that it was also your last kiss makes your stomach sink. He’s had every opportunity to tell you if he likes you. He hasn’t. You’re just a friend to him and nothing more.

“Who wants to bet on when the power’s going to be back on?” Malek asks. You hear the click of him unlocking his phone. “It’s 11:30 now. I don’t…”

He suddenly stops talking.

“Did he die? I’m too tired to turn around and check,” Esha says.

“My ex texted me,” Malek says.

“Don’t fall into the trap, man,” Chase says. “What’s done is done.”

“What’s it say?” Zach asks. He stares at you as you lie in front of him, backlit by the fire.

“She’s apologizing,” Malek says. “She wants to get back together.”

“No,” Maggie says sternly. “She dumped you over text, dude.”

You listen to your friends chat, your eyelids growing heavy. Admittedly, you’re worried you’ll dream of Zach again. Having his heart in a delusion just to wake up and realize it’s not really yours hurts too much.

You shuffle your feet to get comfortable, accidentally bumping Zach.

“Sorry,” you whisper over your shoulder. “Was that your kicking foot?”

“Yeah,” Zach replies. “You just blew my entire season.”

You giggle quietly, tightening your blanket around you. You wish you could hold on to a shred of hope that eventually, your feelings for him will fade. The sinking feeling in your gut tells you that’ll never happen.

.❅❅❅.

A harsh droning pulls you out of your sleep. Your eyes squeeze shut, then flicker open when you realize someone is snoring. Loudly.

“Who is that?” Esha whispers into the pitch dark. The fire must have died down.

“Malek,” Chase mutters. “He sounds like a fucking dragon.”

“Malek,” Esha whines. His snoring suddenly stops and you figure she must have kicked him awake.

You chuckle to yourself, gently shuffling in place. That’s when you realize you’re up against a warm, firm surface, your nose brushing against the comforting fragrance you love so much.

You’re cuddled up to Zach. You pull back an inch, your entire body tense.

“How’d I get here?” you try to joke in a whisper. “Sorry.”

“Stay,” he mumbles sleepily. He pulls you in by your hip, squeezing gently in his daze. Your heart thrums and you obey, giving into what you want most.

››› sunday

You can feel the brightness of the sun behind your eyelids. The air isn’t cold. The furnace is buzzing. The power is back on.

You gain your bearings and slowly sit up. Everyone else is still asleep. You smile in admiration as you look at your sleeping friends. You love them all so much. You turn to see Zach, his lips in a cute pout, and you accept the fact that you love him, too, in a deeper way.

Friends. You’re friends. You’ll keep telling yourself that until your heart believes it.

You quietly make your way to the kitchen, determined to cook a big breakfast for everyone. Five minutes pass before Maggie walks in with a tired smile, commenting that something smells good.

“Sit down,” you invite her. “Coffee? Tea? I’m making a thank-you breakfast.”

“What for?” she asks.

“You all took such good care of me,” you say.

“Yeah, because Zach basically threatened us to when you first got here,” she laughs. “I’ve never seen him so intense. Last night, when the power went out? He booked it upstairs to find you. He’s been so worried about you.”

“Yeah, I think he still feels responsible for me falling,” you say.

She sits up to look over the wall into the hallway to check that the coast is clear, then waves you closer. You turn off the range and sit next to her.

“I think it’s more than that,” she says.

“No,” you say with a small laugh. “No way.”

.❅❅❅.

Zach shuffles awake, exhaling deeply. He drags his hand over the blanket next to him, looking for you before he realizes that’s what he’s doing.

It felt so nice when you turned towards him in a half-asleep daze, nuzzling your head into his chest. It took him a while to fall asleep simply because of how hard his heart was drumming.

He steps over his sleeping friends. Then, he hears a hushed conversation getting louder as he heads down the hallway.

“...think so?” Maggie says.

“No,” you respond. “Okay, I wasn’t going to tell you and Esha until after we got back, but… I was so out of it at the hospital that I thought he was my boyfriend and… he actually went along with it.”

“What?” she says.

You’re talking about him. He’s about to clear his throat to announce himself and pretend like he hasn’t heard anything, but then he hears your next words.

“I know he didn’t want me acting like that with him, but he tolerated it just so I wouldn’t get freaked out when I realized my memory was messed up,” you confess. “He was so awkward about it after. Trust me. He does not like me back.”

Zach slowly steps back towards the living room and goes up the stairs, trying to absorb what he just heard, trying to make sense of the fact that you not only truly think that he doesn’t want your affection, but also that you’re genuinely disappointed about it.

Back. You don’t think he likes you back.

This might just be the happiest he’s ever felt.

.❅❅❅.

You love how pleased your friends look at the breakfast spread you’ve made for them as they trickle into the kitchen.

“It’s a good thing it was so cold overnight,” you announce. “Nothing in the fridge went bad.”

Zach is the last one to come in and your heart, the traitor, skitters when you meet his striking blue eyes. How long until you can look into those eyes and not think about how it feels to be held by him, how it feels to kiss him?

“Sleep well?” you ask to make casual conversation. He settles in the last empty chair at the table.

“Yeah. My old man pajamas are really toasty,” he says.

You nod, skin buzzing. Does he remember cuddling you in the middle of the night? By the way his eyes linger on you, you think he just might, and in this simple, small moment, you feel a pinch of hope that he feels the same way you do.

You glance up at the clock hanging above the table to see it’s just past nine, leaving less than two hours before check-out. You try to enjoy the last little bit you have with your friends before you split up to clean and leave the cabin the way you found it.

.❅❅❅.

The cabin is spotless, the cars are packed up, and you’re hugging your friends goodbye as light snowflakes gently fall from the white sky.

You’ve been giddy with anticipation at the thought of having an hour and a half drive back to campus with Zach, even though he left such a confusing knot in your chest. Despite everything, he’s still a friend you love to spend time with.

“Have a nice drive!” Chase says as he heads towards Esha’s car, raising his brows at Zach.

After breakfast, Chase had asked him to join you two on the ride home to have more space than he would have sharing a backseat with Malek, but Zach apologized and told him he’d rather not.

When Chase insisted he tell him why, Zach didn’t see any reason to keep it in any longer. He admitted to liking you and said he’d finally tell you on the way home.

“Bold,” Chase had said. “And if she doesn’t like you, too? That’ll be like, the most awkward car ride ever.”

“I’ll take the risk,” Zach replied with a smile.

.❅❅❅.

“Wow,” you say as you drive out onto the main road. “I never made you that hot cocoa, did I?”

“You didn’t,” he says, pretending to be deeply displeased.

“Will you ever forgive me?” you play along.

“I’ll need to do some reflecting first,” Zach replies. You laugh, relieved that you two are joking like old times before this past weekend through you for a loop.

“Fair,” you say. You plug your phone into his speaker system. “Let’s see if I can unlock any other memories. And don’t tell me it’s still too soon to joke about it.”

Zach chuckles, cocking his head.

“I’ll let it slide,” he says. “I woke up in a good mood.”

“You’re basically always in a good mood,” you respond.

Zach can understand why you’d think that. It’s because he’s never been in a bad mood around you. Life is bright and easy and rich when you’re around. And it’s been even richer since he overheard what you said this morning.

“We passed a waterfall while you slept on the way up here,” Zach says. “Would you want to make a stop to check out the view?”

“Yeah,” you agree, pushing away the reminder of what you’d dreamt about during that nap. “Sounds cool.”

.❅❅❅.

Crystal blue water rushes down in an endless torrent, crashing down to the surface with a dull roar. You’re in awe of how ethereal the waterfall is, white mist bubbling over the stream bordered by snowy land. The snow is still falling gently, the atmosphere cool but not cold, as if the earth is apologizing for the windstorm last night.

You and Zach stand at a height behind a railing, his car parked a few feet away on the side of the road. He purposely slowed down so your friends would drive far enough ahead to not notice you’d made a stop.

Now that he’s here, he’s painfully nervous. Worst case scenario, you’re not interested in dating him, and it’ll lead to, like Chase said, the most awkward car ride ever. He’s sure the remaining hour journey back to campus would feel like ten hours if this goes wrong.

But he’s always been optimistic and last night as he fell asleep with you in his arms, he thought back to every moment in your friendship when he had a spark of hope that he had a place in your heart like you do in his.

Over the months he’s known you, he got into the habit of trying to dull the spark, reminding himself of how much he had to lose if you didn’t return his feelings.

Deep down, he always knew he’d eventually give in; he has so much love to give you and the thought of keeping it contained when you might want it was getting harder to bear.

You could break his heart if you don’t want him, but it’d break his heart even more if you do and he doesn’t do anything about it.

“Wow,” you say in a whisper, taking a photo of the waterfall with your phone. “I shouldn’t post this, should I? Our friends might be mad that we didn't include them.”

“I think they’ll understand,” Zach replies. “I told Chase… uh…”

You lower your phone, looking up at him, unable to stifle your smirk because of how cute he looks from the way the breeze has messed up his hair. The road behind you is clear and quiet, the mid-morning sun offering mild warmth.

“You told Chase…?” you say.

Zach licks his lips, his mouth gently opening before he finds the words. He shifts to face you, eyes searching your pretty features, heart in his throat.

“I told him I wanted to be alone with you,” he says. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop this morning, I swear… but I… I do like you. Back.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You look down at the snowy concrete, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“I heard you right… right?” Zach mumbles.

“Back,” you repeat softly, finding the bravery to look back up at him. “Yeah. That’s what I said.”

A sweet, honeyed smile grows on his face. He tilts his head slightly, looking at you the exact way you’d dreamt he would. How you always wanted him to, but convinced yourself he wouldn’t.

“I didn’t tolerate you acting like we were dating,” he says. “I liked it and I felt bad for liking it because it wasn’t real.”

You mirror his smile, your heart full of love and joy and the comfort that he’s been giving you since the day you met him.

“I was just doing what I always wanted to do,” you confess. His eyes glint with endearment as he brings a hand up to gently cup your face.

“I really enjoyed being your pretend boyfriend,” Zach says, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as you look up at him through your lashes. “Can I be your real one now, though?”

You sigh softly, nodding as he stares at you in nothing short of infatuation. He leans closer by a half-inch, silently testing if you’re okay with it.

You close the distance and your lips meet with a sweet, gentle tenderness like they’ve done this before. You pull back, remembering that they have.

“Can we count that as our first kiss?” you say.

“Absolutely,” he chuckles.

››› one week later

You’re stepping out of the kitchen in Zach’s apartment, tightly gripping the tray of six mugs filled with hot cocoa.

“Whoa,” Zach says, quickly standing up from his spot on the floor when you enter the living room. “Careful.”

“Her concussion is gone, man,” Chase says. “You have the test results to prove it. She can handle carrying a tray.”

“He’s helping her because he’s a gentleman,” Esha states. “Do you know what that word means or are you committed to being a caveman forever?”

“Caveman,” he repeats with a grin.

“Don’t give him any,” Esha mutters. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

You laugh as you set the tray down on the coffee table with Zach’s help. You settle in your spot on the couch as Zach sits on the floor in front of you again, tucked in between your legs, the insides of your knees pressed against his shoulders.

“I have to say, I called it,” Maggie says as she gazes between you and Zach with a big smile on her face. “Tell everyone how I called it.”

“You called it,” you say, putting your hands on your boyfriend’s broad shoulders, gently squeezing.

Her eyes dart to Esha and you share a knowing grin. You’d had private conversations about how if you and Zach were always a little obvious, Esha and Chase are the definition of the word.

“Ow,” Malek snips, holding the steaming mug away from his face. “I burned myself.”

“It’s hot cocoa, Malek,” Chase says. “It’s literally in the name.”

“Really good, though,” Malek says, giving you a thumbs up.

“Thanks,” you laugh.

The tray is eventually littered with empty mugs and you stand to clear away the mess, your heart glowing with the feeling it always has when you’re surrounded by your friends.

You’re scrubbing a soapy sponge over a mug when you hear Zach’s voice behind you.

“You don’t have to wash anything.”

You look over your shoulder, smiling.

“It’s okay,” you say. He approaches you, hugging you from behind as you stand at the sink, surrounding you in his warmth as your friends talk a room away.

He always enjoyed moments of privacy with you, but since that day by the waterfall, every second with you is more than perfect.

“So?” you say. “Did you get your wish? Was the cocoa life-changing?”

“Ask me again what you asked on the way up to the cabin,” he murmurs. “What I want most in the world.”

“What do you want most–”

“You,” he interrupts. You laugh breathily as he kisses the side of your neck. “I just couldn’t answer honestly the first time you asked. But it was always you.”

You turn the faucet off and tilt your head back, looking up at the ceiling with a smile on your face as he leaves kisses on your neck and holds you tighter.

It was always him, too.

(the end)

[jungwnies]

f1 gris (2/2) | forgetting their birthday

୨ৎ : featuring : kimi antonelli, ollie bearman, yuki tsunoda, isack hadjar, and liam lawson + special feature franco colapinto and lance stroll (click here for part one) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by @holycastles) : pretending to forget their birthday but actually having a huge surprise for them planned

୨ৎ : genre : romantic comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 2342

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : yall.. 10k followers is sooo fucking insane tysm! i will be doing a 10k special in a few weeks so pls stay tuned... it's finals coming up so i will be a bit busyyy but once its over i will 100% be focused here >.<

ʚ・kimi antonelli

kimi didn’t say much when he realized the day was slipping by without a single mention. he never really made a big deal about birthdays. he didn’t expect balloons or cake or instagram captions. but still, from you, he expected something.

at breakfast, he waited. you served him pancakes and coffee like it was any other wednesday. no candles. no teasing grins. just a kiss on the cheek and a "have a good day, babe."

at lunch, nothing. he thought maybe you were planning something. maybe it was a joke. but as the hours went on, doubt started to creep in. you were scrolling your phone while curled up on the couch, totally at ease. too at ease. his heart sank.

he didn’t say anything. just kind of sat with it. didn’t pout. didn’t throw shade. but you knew him. you saw it in the way he was quieter than usual, more distracted, checking his phone a little too often.

at dinner, you brought out his favorite pasta—your homemade version. still no mention. he stared at his plate for a beat too long before picking up his fork.

"kimi?" you said softly. he looked up. "you okay?"

he shrugged. "yeah. just tired."

you let him take another bite before quietly slipping away. when you returned, the lights went off. and the cake came out. candles. sparklers. a stupid little crown. and you.

"happy birthday, kimi."

his eyes softened immediately. he didn’t smile big—he never did—but his whole face lit up in that subtle, slow-burning way that made your heart twist.

"i knew it," he said, shaking his head, voice barely above a whisper. "you’re evil."

you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your face to his chest. "took you long enough to crack."

he held you tighter than usual. "you scared me," he mumbled.

"i’d never forget. not ever."

he didn’t need the cake or the candles. just that promise, and you in his arms, and the warmth he tried so hard not to show.

ʚ・ollie bearman

you started the prank at midnight—intentionally saying “goodnight” without even a hint of “happy birthday.” you heard him scoff in the dark. one point for you.

by morning, he was already suspicious. “so… you didn’t have any weird dreams or anything?” he asked at breakfast, eyeing you over his cereal.

“nope,” you replied, sipping your tea like an oscar-winning actor.

ollie blinked. “not even about, i don’t know, special occasions?”

“like tax season?” you offered.

his spoon clattered into the bowl. “oh my god.”

you kept the act going all day. when he dramatically flopped onto the couch saying, “this day feels important for some reason,” you just hummed and asked if he wanted a snack.

by noon, he was spiraling.

you caught him googling “do geminis need more attention?” and muttering to himself while pacing around the apartment. then, when his phone pinged with a birthday text from a teammate, he gasped so loudly it startled the cat.

“you’re lying,” he said, holding up the screen like evidence in a trial.

“about what?” you blinked innocently.

“my birthday. my birthday. are you seriously telling me lando norris remembered before you?!”

you bit your lip to keep from laughing. “ollie, i think you’re just being dramatic.”

he stared at you like you’d just slapped him with a cake. “i will never recover from this betrayal.”

you let him sulk for a while—faking deep emotional trauma while dramatically playing sad songs from his spotify. but then, when he finally dragged himself to the kitchen for ice cream, he opened the freezer and found a box that said “for my favorite chaos goblin.”

inside? a tiny cake with a candle already lit, and a note that said, you really thought i forgot? babe. please.

he stood frozen, jaw hanging open.

you popped your head around the corner. “happy birthday, drama queen.”

ollie just stared. “i planned a whole guilt trip. i almost cried to charles. you absolute menace.”

you giggled as he tackled you in a bear hug, cake be damned. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you whispered back, “i know.”

ʚ・yuki tsunoda

you started the prank the night before. yuki was curled up on the couch, legs in your lap, chattering about how excited he was for ramen tomorrow and how "the birthday boy deserves extra noodles."

you just smiled, nodded, and said, “wait, is something happening tomorrow?”

the look he gave you was instant and horrified. “what do you mean… is something happening?”

you shrugged. “i just feel like i’m forgetting something.”

yuki blinked. “no. no. you’re messing with me.”

you patted his head. “you’re being so dramatic lately, babe.”

that got you a narrowed stare and a suspicious squint. “you’re acting weird. i’m watching you.”

by morning, he had fully entered petty mode. he stomped around the kitchen in his slippers, deliberately making extra noise. you greeted him with a “good morning” and a kiss on the cheek. no “happy birthday.”

he looked personally offended. “nothing? not even a hint?”

you poured your coffee. “hint about what?”

he gasped. “you really did forget. oh my god.”

then he got very, very quiet.

for the next few hours, he refused to tell you what he wanted for lunch. he kept mumbling “i don’t care” and “whatever, it’s just a normal day.” but when you handed him a sandwich, he held it in both hands like it was the saddest thing he’d ever received.

finally, around 3 p.m., you told him you were going out for a bit. he just nodded, curled up on the couch with a blanket over his head, sulking dramatically.

you came back 30 minutes later with a party hat, a mini cake, and his favorite ramen from that place he always begged you to drive to. you walked in singing softly, “happy birthday to yuki…”

he peeked out from under the blanket like a kid. “i knew it. i knew you wouldn’t actually forget.”

you sat beside him and kissed his cheek. “you’re too cute to forget, yuki.”

he beamed, cheeks pink, and pulled you into his lap. “you scared me. i was one second away from texting your mom and telling on you.”

you laughed against his shoulder. “wouldn’t be the first time.”

he grinned. “still gonna eat this cake like you broke my heart, though.”

you handed him a fork. “as you should, birthday boy.”

ʚ・isack hadjar

you knew isack would be the most dramatic when you pretended to forget his birthday. what you didn’t expect was how fast he would spiral into chaos.

it started when you woke up and didn’t say a word. no “happy birthday,” no breakfast in bed, no suspicious glances. just vibes. isack stared at you in silence like he was waiting for the punchline.

“you good?” you asked as you brushed your teeth.

he crossed his arms. “i just think it’s interesting how some people wake up today and act like it’s just… wednesday.”

you choked on your toothpaste but played it cool. “it is just wednesday.”

he gasped. “oh my god.”

you spent the morning fake-working on your laptop while he paced around muttering in french. at one point, he opened your calendar on your phone while pretending to check the weather.

“nothing’s even marked. no cake emoji. not even a dot.”

you side-eyed him. “babe. what are you talking about?”

he threw himself on the couch. “do i mean nothing to you? after i sent you that meme yesterday? that meant something.”

lunch was him dramatically scrolling through old birthday posts you’d made for your cat and reading them out loud.

“to the best boy in the world, love you forever,” he quoted, glaring. “your cat got more love than me.”

you almost caved.

but then he disappeared into the bedroom for 30 minutes and came back out in full black. black shirt, black jeans, black sunglasses.

“i’m in mourning,” he said. “for the relationship i thought i had.”

you snorted so hard you nearly dropped your phone. finally, you pulled the hidden cake out of the fridge and lit the candle.

“happy birthday, you absolute menace.”

he blinked. “wait. you knew? this whole time?!”

you nodded, grinning.

he pointed at you like he was ready to call the police. “you’re sick.”

but then he saw the cake, and the way you’d written ‘to my favorite boy’ in icing, and his face completely melted.

he gave you a big, exaggerated sigh. “fine. you’re forgiven. but only because this cake smells amazing.”

and then he took the biggest bite without using a fork.

ʚ・liam lawson

liam woke up like it was any other day. no expectations. no fuss. dude was already making coffee and singing off-key in the kitchen before you even got out of bed.

you walked in, kissed his shoulder, and greeted him with a casual, “morning.”

he turned, handed you your mug, then looked mildly amused. “sooo… nothin’ special today, huh?”

you blinked. “what, is it national ‘liam makes great coffee’ day?”

he laughed. “honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it was.”

but as the morning went on, he kept making little comments. you’d walk past and he’d go, “still nothing, huh?” under his breath. or he’d look at his phone and dramatically say, “wow, so many birthday messages… wonder what someone forgot.”

you didn’t flinch. you even made lunch like it was a totally normal tuesday.

but liam? oh, he was plotting.

he started dropping the weirdest hints. said things like, “kinda craving cake. no reason. just… feel like today’s a good day for it.”

or “if i was born today, that’d be wild, right?”

by late afternoon, he full-on dropped his driver’s license on the table and casually went, “you ever look at this photo and think, ‘damn. what a birthday boy’?”

you finally caved around 4 p.m., dragging out a wrapped box and a card that said “to the kiwi who thinks he’s slick.”

he opened it with a smirk. “knew it. you’re a menace.”

you kissed his cheek. “you were so annoying about it.”

he grinned. “you love it. admit it.”

you rolled your eyes. “i do. but next year i’m setting a reminder just so i don’t have to watch you fake-suffer like that again.”

he leaned back, smug. “next year, i’m faking amnesia. your move.”

ʚ・franco colapinto

franco wasn’t expecting fireworks for his birthday. honestly, he never did. but he was expecting you to say something when the day started.

instead, you kissed his cheek like usual, told him good morning, and then asked if he could take out the trash.

he hesitated, eyes flicking toward you. “you sleep okay?”

“mmhmm,” you said, scrolling on your phone. “you?”

he nodded slowly. “yeah… weird dreams, though. something about, like… cake.”

you bit back a grin. “maybe you’re just craving sugar.”

the rest of the morning went like that. franco dropping soft, hopeful hints. you pretending not to notice. he wasn’t pouty, not like ollie or isack. but you could tell—he was waiting. watching you with that quiet, slightly anxious energy.

at lunch, he made you coffee and served it with a shy smile. “anything you want today?”

you shook your head. “nothing special.”

he paused. “you sure?”

“mhm.”

and that’s when he got real quiet. not in a dramatic way—just a little dimmer. still smiled. still held your hand when you went out for groceries. but his fingers played with the hem of your sleeve the entire walk, like he was grounding himself.

when you got home, you “accidentally” left your phone unlocked with a birthday alarm still set. he saw it. paused. smiled—that soft franco smile—and said nothing.

but a few minutes later, when you asked him to grab something from the oven, he opened it and found a birthday cake with his name on it.

you walked into the kitchen behind him, holding a small box with your gift and whispered, “you didn’t think i’d forget, right?”

he turned to you, eyes a little watery, smile so soft it could melt anything. “i didn’t. not really. but i would’ve loved you even if you did.”

you kissed him, and he kissed you back like he’d been waiting all day for that exact moment.

ʚ・lance stroll

lance doesn’t love attention. but birthdays? they kind of mean something to him, especially when it’s you.

so when you woke up, kissed his cheek, and didn’t say anything, he raised a brow but kept cool. “no dreams about cake or parties?”

“nope,” you said, already walking away.

he blinked. “okay.”

the morning passed in silence. well, not silence. you were humming while making breakfast. but lance? lance was watching you like you were a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.

no texts read over your shoulder. no cake being secretly frosted. no sneaky glances. just… vibes.

at lunch, he cleared his throat. “so… i was born today.”

you blinked. “really? what a coincidence.”

he laughed, shaking his head. “you’re unreal.”

he didn’t push. just teased you under his breath. at one point, he dramatically stared out the window like he was in a sad music video and mumbled, “must be crazy to have a girlfriend who forgets your birthday.”

you cracked at dinner. brought out his favorite dessert—warm, homemade, gooey—and placed a single candle in the center.

he smirked. “oh, so you do love me.”

you handed him a tiny box. “takes more than one prank to scare me off.”

he opened the gift slowly, brows rising as he saw the watch you’d been saving up for. underneath the box was a handwritten note.

for the guy who plays it cool but has the softest heart i’ve ever known.

he looked at you, quiet for a second. then he pulled you into his lap and kissed your cheek. “you’re lucky i’m too in love to be mad.”

you smiled. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

he nuzzled into your neck and whispered, “next year, i’m getting revenge.”

but he said it with the biggest grin.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[foreveia]

snow one like you ⤨ miya atsumu

⨭ genre; college!au, frat!au, enemies to lovers!trope (sort of)

⨭ pairing; miya atsumu x f!reader

⨭ word count; 16.4k

⨭ descriptions; you're convinced that miya atsumu is the world's biggest fuckboy asshole, and yet, when the iota nu alpha (ina)'s exec board and your sorority's exec board go on winter break together, you come to prove that there really is a thin line between hate and something else.

⨭ warnings; alcohol, profanity, sexual innuendos, LOTS of dick jokes

⨭ a/n; i have been FIENDING to write frat boy! & fuckboy!atsumu bro so here's the 'tsumu redemption story lmfao i am very proud of coming up w greek letter versions of the hq teams. hope u love seeing a fuckboy conversion story as much as i do mwah :)

song i listened to writing this: 'tsunami' by niki

one.

Winter break should have been perfect. 

Here’s what should have happened: (1) you, your sorority’s executive board, and an obsessive amount of luggage for a two week break all pile into Mao’s sexy black Jeep; (2) drive six and a half hours up to the cute, girly AirBnB you rented for this; (3) sleep in until 1 PM every day and wake up in the softest sheets ever; (4) spend the whole winter break snowboarding down black diamonds and drinking mimosas in the hot tub. You even treated yourself to a shopping spree in preparation for it; four sets of pink bikinis and matching silk pajamas for the girls had put a significant dent in your bank balance but who cares because it was meant for your perfect winter break.

It could’ve been perfect. It should’ve been perfect. 

But here you are instead, the day after finals on what could have been a lovely end to the first half of your junior year but instead is the start of an imminently torturous two weeks, standing at the curb of your university apartment building, shivering your absolute fucking ass off in just a hoodie because Aran’s rental car was delayed an hour for pick up. All your favorite winter wear is already packed into the massive duffel bag by your feet, stuffed to the absolute brim with just one of your new bikinis (since apparently, you had to do bonding activities now), plain pajama sets (the girls worried the others would feel left out), and everything you could ever need to commit a murder and get away with it. 

Your planned victim? Atsumu Miya, the official worst human being on Earth.

This belief is confirmed by the blue 2012 Hyundai you’ve been waiting on finally rolling up, and the back door popping open to reveal Atsumu, sprawled across the three seats as if he owns the place. He looks as if he plans on you feeding him grapes and massaging his feet during the ride there; you want to punch him in the jaw. His eyes flick up, lazily scanning you from head to toe with a smirk that could infuriate a saint.

“Awh, look who’s here to grace us with her presence,” he drawls, not bothering to move an inch. “So princess, ready to fall in love with me yet?”

You grit your teeth, forcing a smile that’s more a baring of teeth. Mentally, you scratch out human—because he’s actually closer to a demon. 

“In your fantasies,” you scoff, heaving your duffel bag into the trunk with more force than necessary. The trunk is a struggle to close because it’s already overflowing with way more baggage than is needed for a winter break trip.

He chuckles, an irritating sound that grates on your last nerve. “Oh, I have plenty of those, babe. You’re just usually not wearin’ clothes in ‘em.” 

Yep, it’s confirmed. You’re going to kill Atsumu. 

Unfortunately, Yui Michimiya, the sorority president and apparently shotgun, rolls down the window before you get the opportunity to strangle him right then and there. “Y/N, get in the car, we have to go! Mao and them are already on their way there.” 

You sputter. “I’m stuck in the back with him? Are you kidding?”

“Aran is driving the first three hours, and then I’m switching with him. We don’t have time for this.”

“What, so I not only have to share my winter break with the fucking foxes, but now I’m backseat? Why didn’t you just let me go with the other girls, Yui?” you whine. You know you’re being childish, but you don’t care. This is practically a matter of life or death (albeit not yours—for Atsumu). 

Yui’s eyes dart between you and Atsumu, her lips pressed into a thin line as she navigates the tension with the ease of a seasoned diplomat. “Look, I know you two have your... differences, but we’ve got a schedule to keep. It’s a long drive, and we can’t afford to start late. You two both need to just suck it up, okay? It’s just a few hours.”

You glance at Atsumu, who’s now sporting a grin that suggests he’s already won whatever game he thinks you’re playing. The prospect of spending hours confined in a car with him makes your skin crawl, but with a resigned sigh, you grab the rest of your gear and slide into the backseat. The door slams shut, sealing your fate. You’re already sad for your future self.

Atsumu shifts, making a show of spreading out even more, his smirk never faltering. “Are ya feelin’ cozy, sweetheart?” he teases, nudging you with his knees as his legs open so far he’s past the empty center console.

“Your tiny dick does not need that much room. Now get your legs away from mine before I chop them off and throw them in the woods behind our cabin.”

“Wow, princess, didn’t think 8 inches was tiny in your book. Or should I say size queen?”

This is officially the worst winter break of your life.

When Chizuru, the sorority secretary, had first proposed the idea of sharing your annual break retreat with a fraternity executive board, you thought she was joking. And then when Mao, the internal vice president, said it was a lovely plan so that both parties could have bigger facilities and more funds, you begged for it to be any other fraternity. And then finally, when Yui officially confirmed that your retreat would be a joint trip with Iota Nu Alpha (INA)’s five executive members, you actually lost your mind. 

Because Iota Nu Alpha, while being a generally very respectable fraternity with a decent national establishment and well-regarded chapter on your campus, contains a particular flaw: a certain external vice president who is the actual devil and goes by the earthling name of Atsumu Miya. 

The truth is that you’re not a very violent person—you don’t even knowingly kill bugs, much less go on mental tangents fantasizing about someone’s downfall. Before freshman year of college, you wouldn’t have ever believed that you’d be on the verge of homicidal rage just from the sound of someone’s voice. 

But Atsumu truly is a special case because he has an innate talent for bringing out the worst in you. Every smirk, every condescending comment, every casual brush of his arm against yours feels like a deliberate provocation, and it has ever since you first met him in a frat basement during your freshman year. Deciding he was nothing but bad news, you had tried to distance yourself from him, but somehow, he continues to be pulled back in everywhere: from being chemistry lab partners in your freshman spring to being paired during the Greek life matchups to being forced to take him to your sophomore sorority formal because your initial date ghosted last minute, for some reason, the universe hates you and you literally cannot escape him. 

Atsumu Miya spends half his time flirting with you and the other half pissing you off; he’s a thorn in your side that simply will not budge. He’s evidently already made it his mission to ruin your break before it’s even started, so that’s just reason #13092 of why he is in fact the bane of your existence.

The car pulls away from the curb, and Aran, INA’s secretary, adjusts the rearview mirror to glance back at the two of you. “Let’s try to keep it civil, alright? We’ve got a long road ahead of us.”

Atsumu snickers and you roll your eyes, keeping your gaze trained on what’s outside the window. The cityscape blurs past, a mix of buildings and holiday lights from tourist spots in the area.

If you had been in Mao’s car right now, accompanied by her and two tolerable members of the fraternity, you’d probably be excited, chattering on and on about all the fun you were going to have. But now, the only thing you can think about is how to survive the next few hours—and then the next two weeks—without throttling the blonde asshole sitting next to you. 

“Y’know, princess,” Atsumu says after a few minutes of blessed quiet, “Ain’t it funny how ya swore in freshman year you’re never speakin’ to me again? And yet here we are.”

You don’t bother looking at him, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, hilarious. It’s the comedy of the century how you’ve become an inescapable part of my college life. What’s next? Are you planning to haunt my dreams too?”

Atsumu’s grin widens, undeterred by your sarcasm. “Are ya sayin’ you wanna sleep with me? Awh, at least buy me dinner first.”

“Fuck you.”

“I mean, as ya wish. Or I can fuck you, I don’t mind changin’ up positions.”

You glare at him, but the intensity of your anger is somewhat mitigated by the fact that you’re squished in the backseat, your knees almost touching his. Yui and Aran exchange a glance in the front, clearly relieved that the bickering hasn’t escalated to physical violence—yet.

You think they shouldn’t be relieved yet. With the way Atsumu is currently simpering at you, it won’t be long before you act on your deep urge to punch him.

two.

The first few hours of the drive pass. You try to ignore Atsumu as much as possible, staring out the window and counting the trees as they whip by; still, he keeps saying stupid things and making you acknowledge them because they’re just that stupid. He just has the miraculous ability to pull you out of your head and whenever he speaks, he becomes all you can think about (because you’re so enraged by his audacity). Occasionally, you catch snippets of Yui and Aran’s conversation, but their voices are low, and you’re too wrapped up in your own thoughts and debates to pay much attention.

And then you notice the snow outside. You’re far enough outside of Tokyo now where the weather has begun to change; it is so incredibly beautiful to see the snowflakes flying down gently as the car flies past the snow-dusted neighborhoods and you can’t help but press your forehead against the cool glass, fascinated. You haven’t seen snowfall this hard in so long, and you are enthralled by it. It’s like the universe itself is trying to soften your mood, scattering diamonds across the landscape to distract you from the simmering tension inside the car. Even Atsumu seems momentarily quiet, his usual remarks on pause as he gazes out his own window.

The serene moment, however, is shattered when Aran suddenly pipes up, “We’re going to make a quick stop in Sendai. Need to stretch our legs and maybe grab some snacks. Anyone need anything specific?”

“Head from the princess.”

“A break from Atsumu.”

Yui snaps, evidently reaching her limit. “Okay, that’s enough. Everyone out.”

The car pulls into a convenience store parking lot, and the group disbands for a brief respite from the confined space: Aran goes to refill the tank, Atsumu and Yui head inside the store, and you trail behind in the lot. You step out, taking in the crisp, cold air, feeling it sting your lungs—a welcome pain compared to the annoyance of dealing with Atsumu. Still, you’ve made it this far; you refuse to allow his presence to deter you from enjoying the snow. 

The break is brief, and soon everyone is piling back into the car, arms laden with snacks and drinks. Atsumu tosses you a pack of peach gummies with a smug look. “Don’t say I never do anything nice for ya.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Thanks?” you say, but it comes out more like a question; you’re struck by the gesture but even more so by the fact that he in fact had gotten your favorite candy. “How’d you know I liked these?”

“Oh, I just got them ‘cause they’re peaches. And I like your ass.”

Ah, there he goes, opening his big mouth and ruining everything. 

His smirk widens, and he shifts closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Y’know, if yer cold, they say body heat is the best way to stay warm. Maybe we should try—”

You shove him away. “Keep your theories to yourself. I’m not interested.” You’re frowning again, staring outside the window with a refreshed intensity. 

It’s infuriating how he does nice things as if he cares about you when he’s really just the world’s biggest fuckboy. He is pretty and he knows it, so it’s not some random mistake that he spends half his time charming girls into dropping their panties. In a fraternity already known for being Man Sluts™, he really does stand out as the biggest one of all because everywhere Miya Atsumu goes, broken hearts inevitably follow.

He grins as if your hostility is just another game for him to win—because he’s an instigator, he doesn’t let up. “C’mon, we’re stuck together anyway. Might as well get close, babe.” His tone is mocking, and you can feel his eyes on you even with your gaze fixed firmly out the window.

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Why? ‘Cause ya know ya like it?”

“Because I have a name, Atsumu,” you snap, plugging in your earbuds and turning up your music loud enough to drown out everything and everyone (and especially Atsumu) around you.

Yui and Aran sigh. They had been the only ones to agree to take you two, and even their patience is wearing thin. The rest of the drive to the AirBnB continues in a similarly miserable pattern—moments of near silence punctuated by Atsumu’s insufferable comments and your equally sharp retorts. By the time you arrive, everyone’s a little cranky except Atsumu, as obnoxiously cheery as ever.

The sole saving grace is that the cabin is just as charming as you’d hoped.

With the INA’s additional funds, the AirBnB is significantly nicer than any you’ve stayed at before. Nestled in a small clearing, it’s a picturesque retreat with smoke gently curling from the chimney and warm lights glowing from the windows: altogether, it’s a two-story, wood-paneled beauty that looks like it was plucked straight from a Christmas postcard. The surrounding forest is peaceful, there’s a gorgeously still lake just past the trees, and the snow-covered opening glistens under the setting sun as the car finally comes to a slow in the stone-lined parking space. 

You step out of the car, stretching your legs and taking a deep breath; the thin snow sinks under your sneakers as you retrieve your duffel bag from the trunk. Atsumu, of course, makes a show of grabbing his own luggage with exaggerated effort, smirking at you as he hefts a comically oversized yellow suitcase over his shoulder.

“Need any help, princess?” he asks, his tone dripping with mock concern.

“I got it, thanks,” you reply curtly, not bothering to mask your irritation. You start towards the cabin, eager to claim your room and escape the tension of the car ride.

Inside is even cozier than it looked from the outside. The living room has a large stone fireplace, plush leather couches, and a comforting red-brick aesthetic; the kitchen is spacious and modern, with a large island perfect for group meals. The centerpiece of the house is the tall Christmas tree in the center, already adorned with twinkling lights and ornaments; there are no gifts under the tree yet, however, because Chizuru has made one of the ongoing activities for the trip to sneakily buy or make everyone else a gift. They’ll show up, little by little, over the break, but you imagine by the time Christmas actually rolls around, it’ll be overflowing.

Mao and Kita, the two other drivers, have both arrived with their cohorts, so the cabin is officially full of life. Both the fraternity e-board and sorority e-board are exploring the amenities; you know from the listing that there’s a game room and hot tub somewhere, so you’re sure they’re seeking those out.

You, however, are focused on something else. You’re too busy looking for the room Chizuru has assigned you, praying to every god you know that you aren’t placed near the human embodiment of a rash. 

When you find your room, you drop your bag at your feet and sigh peacefully. It’s a single on the short end of the hallway, with a queen-sized bed and a lovely balcony that overlooks the snowy forest. There’s only one other room on this end, and what are the chances of that being—

“Oi, princess, I guess we’re neighbors!” Atsumu whoops, walking towards you from down the hall, waving dramatically and now lugging two suitcases, his obnoxious yellow one and an identical one in gray.

Apparently a hundred percent. The world does in fact hate you, and you’re sure now that this is definitely going to be the worst winter break you’ve ever had.

three.

It turns out that not only is Atsumu loud when you’re awake, but he’s loud when you’re trying to sleep too. 

The walls of the cabin are remarkably thin for the whole aesthetic being wood-planks and brick, so much of your first night is spent with your pillow pressed over your head, trying desperately to drown out the loud conversations echoing from next door. The Miya twins are sharing the double room next to you, and despite your best attempts to muffle them, apparently Atsumu speaks at the volume of a F9 fighter jet, because you can hear every time he laughs. 

When you see the clock tick past 1 AM and they still haven’t stopped talking, you are done.

You give up on the idea of them shutting up on their own, and you need sleep—you’re an absolute terror without it. So you do the only thing you can think to do: get up out of bed, march yourself over there, bang on the door and demand them to please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up. 

You bang on the door with more force than you intended, each knock echoing down the hallway (you’re thankful the other rooms are on the opposite end). After a few seconds that feel like forever, the noise inside finally ceases, and the door swings open.

There stands Osamu, wearing nothing but a pair of gray boxers with a simultaneously perplexed and annoyed expression on his face. He looks like he’s been pulled from the midst of the most intense discussion of his life—his hair disheveled, a hint of confusion flickering across his features as he registers who’s on the other side of the door.

“What’s so important thatcha gotta bang down our door at one in the mornin’?” he asks, his tone more curious than irritated.

Despite the cold creeping in around your slippers, you feel a flush spread across your cheeks—and it’s unfortunately not from the chill. It’s hard not to notice his well-defined muscles and the way his boxers sit so nicely on his hips; all the INA boys are sculpted like art and it’s part of why they’re such a popular fraternity on campus. Still, regardless of how hot he may be, your exhaustion and frustration are quick to overshadow any hint of attraction.

“So you do know it’s one AM! In case you two didn’t know, most normal people are trying to sleep at this hour,” you snap, trying not to look at how the dim hallway light casts shadows across his abs. It’s honestly a shame that this is the bane of your existence and his grayscale clone you’re talking about. “Including me, and I can’t do that with the Miyas recreating a live studio audience next door.”

Osamu’s expression softens a bit, actually looking slightly apologetic, and he leans against the door frame, crossing his arms. “Ah, sorry ‘bout that. Guess we got carried away.”

Behind him, you catch a glimpse of Atsumu, just as minimally clad, who has now paused in the midst of grabbing a snack from their cluttered table. He truly is cursed to be a demon trapped inside a beautiful body.

He raises an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between you and his brother, licking his lips before he teases, “Ya know, princess, you could always join us. M’bed’s got room for two.”

Osamu glances back at his twin, rolling his eyes slightly before returning his attention to you. “Bro, seriously?” He sighs, but you can see the hint of a smirk playing on his lips as well.

“No thanks,” you mutter, crossing your arms and standing your ground, determined not to let Atsumu’s pointed commentary distract you from your mission. “Don’t need your help cuddling me to sleep. Just shut up, please.”

Atsumu strides over to the door to stand next to his brother, grinning as he eyes you up and down. “C’mon, babe. We’re just havin’ a bit of fun. What’s a few more minutes, ey? Besides, you look cute in yer bunny slippers.”

“I hate you. And I told you to stop calling me stupid nicknames,” you huff. In your initial moment of rage, you forgot you’re standing there in just your fluffy slippers and polka-dot pajama set. “Just be quiet so I can sleep.”

Osamu chuckles, clearly amused, but still he takes a step back and drags Atsumu with him. “Alright, alright, we’ll keep it down, promise. Ain’t our intention to keep a pretty girl like you up all night—unless, of course, that’s what you’re aimin’ for.”

The joke sends a wave of heat across your face, but you manage a quick, “Shut up,” before turning on your heel and heading back to your room. As you walk away, you hear the soft thud of the door closing and the remnants of their now blessedly muffled voices.

Back in your own room, you climb back into bed, pull the covers up to your chin, and stare at the ceiling, willing your heartbeat to calm down. “Stupid Miyas,” you mutter to yourself, rolling over and burying your face in your pillow.

It’s going to be a long night.

***

The next morning, Mao is the first to point out your dark circles. 

It had been a struggle to wake up this morning, given how you had hardly slept; when your phone, blasting a cheery Ohayo, Ohayo! alarm, obnoxiously alerted you to start the day, you almost threw it across the room. You are bleary-eyed and extremely grumpy, so when she gasps at your appearance over breakfast, you are quick to react.

“I look exhausted because I am, Mao,” you snark back, rubbing at your temples in an attempt to ward off the impending headache. It doesn’t work. “Thanks to the Miya twins and their late-night comedy show, I barely got any sleep.”

You feel bad for snapping at your best friend—after all, she had only been concerned. But thankfully, she doesn’t seem to take any offense to your tone; she just sympathetically nods and slides a steaming cup of coffee your way. “Well, hopefully, today will be less noisy. Maybe the activities will tire them out.” 

You doubt it, but you’ll take whatever peace you can get.

 ***

The morning actually passes relatively uneventfully because Aran and Chizuru, as the secretaries, have put together a tight itinerary that’s meant to keep you all moving. From a group hike to tubing to a stop at the holiday market to ending the night with board games, they have everything fleshed out.

But somehow, Atsumu still manages to find every opportunity to get under your skin. From bumping into you “accidentally” during the hike to stealing your pink tube right at the top of the slide to buying the stall’s last Mt. Iwate snow globe you had been eyeing, by the end of the day, you are practically stomping into the cabin. You are seething for an opportunity to execute revenge.

Said opportunity makes itself present when the group gathers around the large dining table for Pictionary after dinner. Chizuru draws names from a hat to decide teams, and you end up paired with Osamu—you can’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at your partner. Osamu is focused and competitive, just like you, and despite his contribution to the teasing and noise last night, you know he’s just as enthusiastic about beating his brother as you are.

The game starts off lightheartedly, with everyone laughing and shouting guesses as each pair takes turns drawing. When it’s Osamu’s turn, he pulls a card and starts sketching quickly; he draws a round shape with spiky hair and you squint, confused.

“Um… a pineapple… a sun?” you guess tentatively, but Osamu shakes his head and continues, his hand moving frantically to add more details—a few lines here, a few there. “A duck?”

Osamu keeps drawing and you keep futilely guessing, until finally, he adds two distinctive eyebrows and a stupid grin that you’d recognize anywhere. The lightbulb finally clicks on in your mind; really, you can’t believe it took you this long.

You blurt out, “An asshole!” 

The room falls silent for a beat before everyone (excluding Atsumu, of course) erupts into boisterous laughter. Even Kita is smiling—and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him express real emotion. Osamu’s face positively lights up, and he gives you an enthusiastic high five.

Atsumu, though momentarily stunned, quickly retorts, “Oi! I’m right here, ya know!”

Chizuru, being game coordinator, tries to maintain some semblance of order. She coughs into her hand, trying not to laugh, as she says, “Technically, she’s not wrong based on the drawing, but let’s stick to the actual prompts, please.”

Osamu all but wipes a tear from his eye. “Alright, alright,” he says, holding up the little card that says in all caps, [ YELLOW ].

“The fuck? How’s me even relate to that?” Atsumu scoffs. 

Osamu shrugs mock-innocently, but the shit-eating grin on his face gives him away. “I dunno, jus’ came to mind. Maybe it’s yer hair.”

Yui giggles beside Atsumu, who is glaring daggers at his twin. “Well, at least you’re… memorable,” she says, patting her partner on the shoulder.

“Yeah, memorable for being an ass,” you retort, trying to suppress your own laughter.

The game moves on, even as the laughter continues; despite Atsumu’s ongoing and constant attempts to throw you off, you and Osamu manage to rack up a respectable number of points. And you do so again and again, even when Atsumu declares a team rematch in the form of Codenames and Uno; the camaraderie with Osamu comes shockingly naturally and by the time you have finished playing rematches with all the available games in the rec room, you are practically in sync. 

Osamu is easy to work with. You two work together to get on Atsumu’s nerves and you can tell the blonde is boiling. He competes with Osamu at an intensity you haven’t even seen before from him—you chalk it up to sibling rivalry, though you wouldn’t know for sure.

Then, when your team is declared as the official overall second place (after Kita and Aran—who would’ve guessed), Osamu scoops you up into a brief hug; your feet come six inches off the ground and you gasp at the unexpected embrace. A blush spreads across your cheeks when he settles you down because Yui and Chizuru are squealing so loud you think the rest of the sorority can probably hear it from Tokyo, 543.5 kilometers away. You don’t even have it in you to make eye contact with the bemused younger Miya twin, so you keep your eyes steadfast on the ground. His arm is residually slung around your shoulders; he leans much of his weight against you when he does.

You’re okay with it though. Osamu’s arms are just as toned and yummy as they look.

four.

Over the next week, you find yourself getting to know the gray-haired Miya more and more. He makes breakfast for everyone in the mornings without fail, and you’re an early bird, so more often than not, you two end up alone in the kitchen before the light has fully woken up the cabin.

Osamu is thoughtful, considerate—he’s so naturally comforting and sincere, down to his smallest movements. He listens more than he talks. He makes people feel heard. He takes care of the people around him. He doesn’t flirt with you or provoke you or leave you breathless. He is nice. 

You think that you like him. 

One morning, Osamu is telling you a story about learning to cook because at twelve years old Atsumu almost burnt down the kitchen while trying to make eggs, when Atsumu (further proof he really is a demon because he was summoned on cue, Beetlejuice-style) groggily stumbles into the room in the humble pursuit of coffee.

He blinks, registering what he’s seeing, his eyes flickering between you and his twin confusedly. “Why’re ya here?” he asks, sounding almost accusatory. “Why’re you canoodlin’ at seven in the mornin’?”

You snort. “We are not canoodling,” you mock, resting your head in your palm, leaning on the kitchen island. “Osamu’s just telling me about the time you almost burned down your house.”

Atsumu’s head snaps at an insane speed to look at his brother, a boyish look of embarrassment and betrayal all over his face. “‘Samu, what’re ya spillin’ that for?” he whines. This action makes you smile even more: the mental picture of little Atsumu setting off smoke alarms while Osamu calmly puts out the flames behind him only becomes more vivid when you imagine Atsumu pouting and in tears. It mitigates his irritating personality, even if just by a bit. 

Osamu, noticing his twin’s flustered state, gives a nonchalant shrug. “Just sharin’ some childhood memories,” he replies smoothly, a glint of mischief in his eyes that you don’t catch.

Atsumu narrows his eyes at his brother but doesn’t say anything, instead turning his attention to the coffee pot. As Osamu adds more and more silly details and your conversation continues, Atsumu’s demeanor… shifts. The embarrassment fades, replaced by a subtle, tightening jawline, his eyes darting between you and his brother; he looks irritated. Is he really that mad at having his childhood mishaps dragged into the light? 

The thought of him as a kid is actually kinda cute, though you suspect that if you told him this, Atsumu’s ego would inflate so large he’d float into outer space.

“Really, ‘Tsumu, it was like you were tryna to summon a fire spirit with that stove,” Osamu teases, slicing fresh strawberries with a chef’s finesse. He shoots you a playful wink. “Had’ta save our house from becoming a pile of ash. Ma’ almost killed us both!”

Atsumu huffs, pouring himself a cup of coffee, the steam swirling between you. “Cut it out, ‘Samu. Don’t need ya makin’ her think I was a total menace as a kid,” he shoots back, his tone playful yet strained.

You laugh at their banter. “Well, you’re still one now, so I don’t know,” you smirk, leaning towards Atsumu. “Maybe Osamu’s just the better brother.”

Atsumu shoots a playful glare at his brother, but when his gaze falls back on you, it lingers just a bit longer than necessary. “Just in the kitchen,” he mutters, but there’s a noticeable edge to his voice. He grabs an extra mug from the cabinet, setting both it and a little container of cream cups and sugar packets down in front of you before pouring you a fresh cup. “The usual?”

“Mhm,” you hum absentmindedly; it doesn’t quite click that Atsumu knows your coffee order by heart. “It’s nice you guys always had each other growing up, huh? I mean, you’re lucky you’ve got Osamu around to keep you out of trouble,” you tease. 

As Atsumu locates some cinnamon sticks and mixes your coffee, his expression hardens. “Yea, lucky me,” he says, his tone dry. He slides the cup toward you with a careful nudge. “‘Samu’s the saint and the hero, always has been.”

Osamu chuckles from his spot by the counter. “Oi, you ain’t gotta sell yerself short, ‘Tsumu. You got your moments... they’re just hidden very, very deep,” His voice is light, but you sense an underlying seriousness that suggests he’s proud of his twin more than he lets on.

Atsumu rolls his eyes, leaning against the counter and sipping his coffee, eyes trained on watching you stir yours. “Can’t ya ‘ave told some of those magical stories to her then? Had to keep it on ma failures?” 

You eye him over the mug, playful. “I mean… you tell me plenty about your moments. I like hearing about your weaknesses.”

A sly smirk creeps onto Osamu’s face. “Oh, don’t cha worry your pretty head. I’ve got lotsa stories ‘bout ‘Tsumu,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder, the touch light but enough to make you aware of his presence.

Glancing up at Osamu in your surprise, you happen to miss the way Atsumu’s jaw clenches, his grip on his coffee cup tightening until his knuckles turn white. You happen to miss the way his frown settles deeper on his face. Above all, you happen to miss the way his glare at Osamu darkens with annoyance, with something that burns with more than just sibling rivalry, and the way Osamu grins right back. 

five.

“I think I like Osamu.”

Mao squints at you from her spot at the foot of your bed, peering up momentarily from her debate on which pair of pants to wear. “Girl what? Wrong Miya.”

“I knew you were gonna say that!” you groan into your hands. You had called your best friend over for the primary purpose of helping you pick out your outfit for the activities today (a walk through Morioka and hitting up a food market for dinner), but honestly, you’re starting to regret it. It really would’ve been easier to have just spun a wheel or something, because Mao has not been helpful in anything besides causing you more agony. “You watch too many k-dramas. I hate Atsumu!”

“Bitch, please,” Mao scoffs. Like a true friend, she does not tolerate any of your bullshit and says things as they are, blunt and completely honest. And like a truer fake friend, she’s been #TeamAtsumu since day one because she’s convinced that the Universe constantly bringing you together is the real life equivalent of Our Beloved Summer (but in college). “Hate is such a strong word. You don’t hate him. What you guys have is sexual tension.”

You want to let out a visceral scream. “That is not true. He’s just…”

“‘Stupidly pretty and gets on your nerves’, yeah yeah, I know,” Mao finishes your sentence with a shit-eating grin. “Have you ever considered just riding his dick to get the feelings out?”

Glaring at her does nothing besides make her smile grow even bigger. 

“I’m not going to ride his dick because even if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to find it. Y’know he keeps saying he packs eight? As if he would have both an eight-pack and eight inches. The universe wouldn’t do that. Atsumu’s gotta be nerfed somehow, right?” you ramble, half annoyed and half trying to stop imagining him naked. 

“I can see the rated X thoughts in your head, lovebug.”

“Whatever. How did we even get to this? The point is that Osamu’s nice to me. Super respectful. Why wouldn’t I like him?” 

Mao shrugs. “Yeah, he’s a sweetie. But like… I don’t know. I don’t think he’s right for you.”

“You suck. Who do you think you are?” you glower.

“I’m your fucking twin flame, give me my respect,” she snorts, not getting a reply because you both know she’s right. She then holds up two pairs of jeans—one dark-wash, one light-wash, but otherwise virtually identical—and stares them down like her life depends on it. “But anyway. Just don’t think you’re meant for a nice guy, y’know? In fact, I think Atsumu makes you better.”

You gape at her, in utter disbelief she could even say those words out loud. “Be so fuckin’ serious. Better? He, like, thrives off my rage.”

“Right, and you thrive off competition,” she replies boredly, tossing the light-wash pair over her shoulder and standing to wiggle the other on. “I’m telling you, Atsumu gets under your skin in a way no one else can–”

“You’re getting real close,” you interrupt, earning yourself a pointed look.

“Shut up. As I was saying, Atsumu gets under your skin, challenges you, and that lights a fire under your ass. Makes you wanna prove him wrong, prove yourself right. And that’s what makes you better. Makes you both better.”

“It’s like you want me to be miserable.”

She snorts. “Of course not. I’m just saying, for someone so hellbent on hating Atsumu, you sure spend a lot of time talking about him. I mean, really, do you even hear yourself?” She spins around, both to show you the fit and to mock you with little hand gestures. “‘I hate Atsumu, Atsumu this, Atsumu that, Atsumu, Atsumu, Atsumu.’ It’s like you have a little shrine dedicated to him in your mind.”

“You’re delusional,” you mutter, even though you know her words have at least some truth in them. “I don’t care about him.”

What a lie. It’s a lie and both of you know it, because Mao squints at you, hands on her hips. “Look, all I’m saying is, you can try to sell me on Osamu all you want—he’s nice, he’s sweet, he respects you, blah blah blah. But are you sure it’s him you actually like?”

You freeze, her question slicing through your defenses like a knife. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She turns to face you, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised like she’s ready to dismantle you piece by piece. “I mean, are you into Osamu? Or do you just like the idea of him because it’s easier than dealing with whatever weird, messy thing you’ve got going on with his brother?”

You blink at her, completely thrown off balance. “That’s—that’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” she fires back, her tone casual but sharp. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re running from something.”

“I—” You open your mouth to argue, but the words die on your tongue. You’re not sure what to say because, annoyingly, she’s not entirely wrong. She never really is.

You’re truly blessed in this world because you and Mao were random suitemates who coincidentally rushed the same sorority freshman year and have been inseparable ever since. She’s the IVP to your EVP, the peanut butter to your jelly, the Starfire to your Raven, and your real mothafuckin’ OG because she’s been there for you through literally everything. Right now, however, it means she has the ability to brutally call you out like she can read your mind with X-Ray vision, straight down to your thinly veiled thoughts about Atsumu’s abs.

Mao gives you a knowing look, pulling her phone from her pocket to check the time, a helpful reminder that you in fact do have things to do today besides sit around and mope.

She dusts off her outfit one last time, before heading towards the door. “Look, think about it. You clearly don’t not care about him. And c’mon, lovebug. All these ‘random’ run-ins since then? Not so random when you think about it. The Chem partners, maybe. But you two at formal? Matching during blind dating two years in a row? The universe isn’t subtle, babe.”

You are hating this call out. It’s such an accurate read that you feel annoyed that she’s able to just put it in the world like this when you have spent the last two years trying to choke it down. The truth in Mao’s words sting; you can’t even argue because every random encounter with Atsumu feels less like coincidence and more like the cosmos relishing in your anguish.

“Why did it have to be him?” you mutter, more to yourself than to Mao. “Why’d the universe pick him of all people?”

Mao snorts. “Because he’s an idiot, just like you. You’re probably the only two people in the world who could pull off two and a half years of weird, messed up pining.”

You roll your eyes, but finally, you allow yourself a small smile; Mao really is the only one who can simultaneously call you out for everything you’ve been trying to ignore but also make you feel seen in ways that no one else can. It’s the brutal honesty, the tough love that she delivers without sugarcoating it, that makes you value her words even when they sting.

“Fine, maybe you have a point,” you admit begrudgingly, much to her thrill—which you promptly kill by waggling your finger in her face. “I do care about him. But Osamu’s really sweet to me and… I dunno. I promise I’ll think about it.”

“And that’s all I’m asking for, babygirl. If you do actually like Osamu, I’ll support you—I mean, he’s hot and makes fire pancakes,” Mao shrugs nonchalantly. “But when you end up with Atsumu, I’m gonna tell you I told you so.”

You scowl at her. “I said I’d think about it. That does not mean I’m going to suddenly start confessing my undying love for Atsumu.”

“I don’t expect that!” Mao says, faux innocence dripping from her voice. “Because I already know you will next time you drunk make-out with him at a kickback.”

She’s instantly hit in the head with a pillow (the first thing throwable you could reach), cackling boisterously like she’s told the funniest joke in the world. That’s it. It’s official. As of this moment, you are officially confirming it: it’s time to find a new best friend. 

six.

It’s the perfect night to unwind.

It’s been a long enough day of playing tourist. The rest of the fraternity and sorority boards finished several cases of beer and a handle of Tito’s over dinner, so they’ve long retreated into their rooms; you’re the sole person still lingering awake. All things considered, you’ve been high-strung all week (worsened now—thanks Mao!), so even if you were to try, you probably couldn’t sleep anyway. So you opt for the best relaxation method you’ve got at the moment: breaking in the good ‘ol hot tub.

It’s a decent size and takes up almost all of the back veranda, sans a small patio space—under the open sky, the air is chilly and you can see the snow-covered landscape extending for what feels like miles. The setting is so calm, so beautiful and something right now feels so immaculately undisturbed, it really is the perfect night. You have donned your favorite bikini, turned on the jets, and set the water to the hottest setting; your eyes are fluttering shut in an attempt to find some peace. The sound of the water bubbles and cracks around you, and you can feel your muscles start to ease.

This is exactly what you wanted from your winter break: a chance to loosen up.

But good things aren’t meant to last, and especially not when the very premise of this vacation is to make sure you can never catch a break, because the tranquility is quickly disrupted by the sounds of footsteps crunching across the wood-paneled porch. You pry open your eyes to find Atsumu approaching the hot tub, a huge smirk spread across his face. He’s wearing dark blue board shorts and carries a towel slung casually over his shoulder; without waiting for an invitation, he dips a toe into the water, then with a satisfied nod, slips in across from you.

The universe hates you, clearly. 

“Fancy seein’ ya here, princess,” he teases, the warm water swirling around as he settles in.

You roll your eyes, trying to avoid the flutter in your chest that starts up again seeing him. “Can’t you find someone else to bother?”

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that. Just thought it’d be nice to join ya. The night’s too pretty to spend alone,” he says, flashing a stunning grin that you suspect has melted many hearts before yours. A pompous, arrogant fuckboy to his core.

“Well, you’ve seen the night, you can leave now.”

Atsumu chuckles, unfazed. “Nah, I think I’ma stay. Matter-a-fact, why don’t I get reeeaaall close…” he trails off, inching closer to your side.

You splash him with your hand in prompt retaliation. He laughs, dodging the splash as if he’d anticipated it all along—probably because Atsumu thrives on your attention and revels in your irritation. 

“You’re so annoying.”

“One of my most charmin’ qualities, ey?” he smirks.

“No.” 

“Well you’re still here, so… at least a part of ya definitely likes it,” he says, his eyebrows doing an absurd dance that pulls an involuntary smile from you. “See? Yer even smilin’! I got the great and stoic princess to smile! I can die happy now.”

As much as Atsumu infuriates you, your lips truly do betray you: you suppose he can be funny… sometimes. “Then please, do us all a favor and die.”

“Awh, but then who’ll keep ya company?” he simpers, sickeningly sweet. 

“I’ll call Osamu down here to join me.”

Atsumu’s face falls. “Ya kiddin’? ‘Samu’ll bore ya half to death. He ain’t hold a candle to my glitterin’ personality.”

You snort. “We have plenty of conversations in the mornings when you’re not even awake.”

“Right, right. Ya mean your conversations ‘bout me?” Atsumu says challengingly. 

The argument you were about to make fades away as it hits you—he’s kind of right. Most of your chats with Osamu do end up circling back to him. This realization irks you because it suggests one of two things: your growing interest in Osamu is just a misplaced fixation on his brother, or you do think about Atsumu far more than you’d care to admit.

Either and both implications are terrible.

You scowl, “Shut up. I don’t need you to spice things up.”

His eyes light up, and you prepare yourself because he’s clearly just come up with a terrible idea. “Oi, wanna really make things interesting?”

“What?”

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Atsumu suggests, his eyes glinting with mischief. 

“Are you kidding? No.” 

“C’mon,” he pouts exaggeratedly, his lower lip comically jut out. “We’ll have fun. Unless you’re scared or somethin’.”

Your eyes narrow. “I’m not scared. I just don’t want to play your dumbass game.” 

“Scared, you’re definitely scared,” he taunts, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head, clearly settling in for the long haul. “Afraid I’ll make ya fall for me? Afraid ya can’t handle it?”

You glare at him. He’s obviously provoking you, but God, is it frustratingly difficult not to rise to the bait when he’s giving you that smug, self-serving look. “Ugh, fine. Whatever. I don’t care.”

Atsumu’s grin widens; he looks so infuriatingly triumphant. “Great. So truth or dare, princess?”

Considering your choices, you pause for a moment before sighing. “Truth.”

You expect something insincere or flirty, maybe a dumb innuendo he’s definitely practiced before on countless other girls. You’re prepared to be pissed off by whatever he’s got to say, because Atsumu is a man of many talents, the best of which is making you mad.

Then he just asks, “What’s yer secret talent?”

“A secret talent?” you echo; you’re caught off-guard by the lack of underlying implications. 

“Yea, somethin’ you can do that ya haven’t told anyone ‘bout,” Atsumu clarifies, leaning in with genuine curiosity.

You contemplate momentarily, before you let out a slow, deep sigh. At the end of the day, it’s an innocent enough question; you suppose that since you know so many embarrassing stories about Atsumu (again, courtesy of Osamu), it’s only fair you tell him something embarrassing about you.

“If you make fun of me, I will actually kill you,” you mutter, though the threat carries no real weight when your face is as flushed as it is. “But um… I know a bunch of magic tricks. Like cards and stuff.”

“Honest?” Atsumu’s eyes practically pop out of their sockets—it seems a bit overdramatic, but he prods further, as if genuinely fascinated by this tidbit of information you’ve just shared with him. “Why’d ya learn? Will ya show me?”

Your cheeks burn hotter. “I um… I wanted to be a magician when I was little. I even tried to convince my parents to get me a bunny, but they said it’d be cruel to just keep it in my hat,” you admit, your voice small under the intense scrutiny of his gaze. He bursts into laughter at this revelation, and you find yourself oddly proud of it. “And I dunno. Maybe? If you get me a deck of cards, I guess I could—but no one else can know, okay? You gotta keep it a secret just for us.”

Atsumu’s face widens until he positively beams. “Deal! I’ll get ya a deck of cards,” he declares, already plotting where to find one. “Neva woulda expected that from you, princess. That’s amazin’! Can’t wait to see what ya got.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t even fake annoyance when Atsumu’s excitement is so damn contagious. By no means had you expected him to react like that, but it does make the game more bearable and you more at ease. “Fine, but remember, not a word to anyone.”

“Cross ma heart,” he replies, drawing an exaggerated ‘X’ over his chest with his finger. He leans back, his face alight with glee at his newfound secret. “Alright, alright, yer turn. Ask me.”

“Well, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Pouting, you think carefully about your question before shrugging half-heartedly. “I don’t really know what to ask you. If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“Pussy,” Atsumu says wistfully, his eyes dreamy. 

You shoot him a look. “You must like getting splashed.”

“Only if it’s by your pretty p–” His sentence cuts off because you in fact have begun to thrash around in the water, kicking wild waves in his direction. Atsumu raises his arms in mock surrender, laughing even as he wipes the water from his face. “Alright, alright, just messin’ with ya, swear! For real though. If I hadta pick just one thing, it’d just be ‘Samu’s onigiri. He’s got magic in ‘is hands, honest.”

Catching your breath, you can’t help but chuckle, your arms crossed as you float in the shallows of the tub. “That’s surprisingly wholesome of you, admitting Osamu’s the better cook. You're proud deep down, huh?”

He shrugs, but the corners of his mouth turn up. “Yea, sadly gotta give ‘Samu that one. But don’t go spreadin’ that ‘round, don’t want him gettin’ a big head.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you promise, mocking his same theatrical ‘X’, feeling the tension ease slightly between you two. Squaring your shoulders, you nod. “Alright, your turn. Dare.”

The word barely leaves your mouth before Atsumu’s expression brightens. He leans closer, his voice dropping to say conspiratorially, “Call me a nickname ‘til the game ends.”

You snort. “I already do, dumbass. I’m princess, you’re dumbass. That’s just the way it goes.”

“No!” Atsumu whines, scooting closer to your side of the tub. “Call me something cute. Like honey or pumpkin or–”

“I’ll call you babe and that’s the most you’ll get,” you interrupt warningly, and obediently, he stops talking, nodding away like an oversized bobble head with a stupidly cute smile on his face—honestly, his simplemindedness is impressive.

“So, babe–” you pause to wince at the nickname, unfamiliar and strange but not necessarily bad on your tongue. “–truth or dare?”

He licks his lips before he answers, which involuntarily draws your gaze to them; you shift your stare up to his warm brown eyes instead.

Under the sky, Atsumu’s eyes seem to collect the very stars above. And when he’s looking at you like that, you have a flash in your chest, and you think that either A) you’re having a heart attack, or the much worse option, B) you definitely don’t not care about him.

seven.

You and Atsumu have managed to play this stupid game for hours.

And you know this for two reasons: first because you two have already made it two-and-a-half times around the cycle of 1) getting out of the tub with pruney toes, 2) settling on the patio couches, and 3) complaining of cold and getting back in the tub.

Second: you’ve exhausted all small-talk options and resigned into the deep shit—deep shit being increasingly stupid stories and dumb dares. You’ve sprinted to the end of the yard and admitted your deep fear of squirrels, Atsumu has belted Perfect by One Direction and confessed that he once replaced Osamu’s protein powder with flour, and neither of you can remember the last time you’ve laughed so hard. It’s strange: by the time you’re asking Atsumu his next truth, your cheeks hurt from smiling and conversation comes more than easily.

“Okay, okay, what’s the dumbest thing that you’ve ever done to impress someone?” you ask, nudging his side a little with your foot.

You’re nestled into the opposite ends of the same couch, the firepit fully ablaze beside you (Atsumu struggled for twenty minutes to get it alight). The couch isn’t quite long enough for you both to extend fully even while sitting up, so your legs have ended up slotted between his and your heel is now resting comfortably on his thigh; he’s fiddling mindlessly with your anklet as he grumbles, “As if ‘Samu ain’t already told ya all my stories.” 

But he pauses momentarily to think anyway. When he’s apparently decided on what to tell you, he averts his gaze from yours with sheepish eyes. “One year, for my ma’s birthday, I wanted ta get this real pretty flower from the top of a tree cause ‘Samu made her a fancy schmancy breakfast. Ended up fallin’ and breakin’ my arm, didn’t even get the flower either. Ma told me it was okay, but I bawled the whole way home from the ER cause I wanted her to have a nice gift.”

“You’re joking! Over a flower?” you gasp out, even as Atsumu’s face scrunches up, halfway between embarrassment and amusement—your stomach hurts with every breath you take, but you can’t stop your laughter. 

“Oi, it was a real nice flower!” he defends, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips despite the bashful story. “‘Nd ‘Samu was actin’ all high-n-mighty with his eggs benedict or whatever. I had to do something.”

The image of a young Atsumu, just as determined and headstrong even back then, a boy who would climb a tree for his mother, who would risk everything to make her smile, who cried because he wanted to do something nice for her, warms you more than the hot tub ever could. 

“Well, babe, if it makes you feel better, I think the effort was sweet,” you pause, savoring the pink on his cheeks at both the pet name and your response. “Stupid, but really sweet.”

“Shaddup, it’s yer turn. Truth or dare?” he asks, still pouting.

Midway through your consideration on what to pick, you get distracted by the way the firelight crackles and casts flickering shadows across Atsumu’s face. His eyes are always beautiful, but right now, they glow like pools of honey and amber. His hair is fluffy and tousled and damp from the tub and he’s wearing just his swimsuit, sans the towel thrown hazardously around his shoulders. You swear to yourself to never tell him, but you want to commit this image of him to memory forever, pretty and human and yours alone.

Atsumu smirks, the rosy tint on his cheeks deepening as he catches you staring. “What’s the matter? See somethin’ ya like?” he teases, his voice dripping with playful mischief as he leans in a little closer, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. “Yer gonna drool starin’ like that.”

“Fuck off, I was not staring,” you lie blatantly, flushed at his calling you out. “I was just thinking about what to say.”

“Cause I stole your breath away?”

You glare at him. “About whether to say truth or dare, dumbass.”

“Don’t call me dumbass! Call me babe,” he whines. “‘nd ya still ain’t picked.”

“Fine, truth.”

“Then admit the truth that you can’t resist me.”

“Oh my god,” you huff, crossing your arms across your chest; truly, he ruins his natural beauty by opening his mouth. “Ask me a question I can answer, please.”

Atsumu chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. “Fine, fine. I’ll letcha keep your pride,” he grins, his eyes twinkling in the firelight as he contemplates the perfect question to unravel you a bit more. “Fine. Why d’ya hate me so much anyway?”

You blink, caught completely off guard by Atsumu’s question. Of all the things he could have asked, this wasn’t what you were expecting.

“Why do I hate you so much?” you echo, stalling for time, though your voice wavers ever so slightly.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning in slightly, the firelight casting shadows across his face. There’s a flicker of something unreadable in his expression—something serious, something that makes your chest feel uncomfortably tight. “C’mon, princess, spill it. You’ve called me an idiot, a dumbass, and everythin’ in between. Gotta be somethin’ behind it, right?”

He’s teasing, but his voice is softer now, his usual bravado dimmed. And suddenly, it doesn’t feel like a game anymore.

Your first instinct is to brush him off, to joke, to deflect—because isn’t that what the two of you always do? But this time, for reasons you don’t entirely understand, you hesitate.

“I…” You glance down at your hands, fiddling with the hem of your towel, anything to avoid the weight of his gaze. “I mean… hate is a strong word.”

He leans back slightly, but the intensity in his eyes doesn’t waver. “Yeah? Then what’s all the name-callin’ and eye-rollin’ about?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Because you’re annoying! You’re cocky, you’re loud, and you always find a way to get under my skin.” You pause, lowering your hands to glance at him, and there’s an odd mix of frustration and amusement in your tone as you continue. “But... somehow, you make everything fun. Even when I don’t want to have fun.”

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“And I dunno…” You swallow, the words sticking in your throat. “It’s just that you’re... you’re so…” You trail off, waving your hands in a vague gesture, struggling to articulate what you mean without outright admitting that he’s charming, or handsome, or kind in ways you’re only just starting to notice.

Atsumu, of course, seizes the opportunity. “So irresistible?” he offers with a grin, though his voice is quiet, almost cautious.

You shoot him a glare, but there’s no real heat behind it. “So infuriating,” you snap, but the small, wobbly smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The fire crackles softly beside you, filling the silence, and you can’t quite bring yourself to look away from him. His usual cocky grin has softened into something warmer, something that makes your stomach flip in a way you’d rather not think about. 

Atsumu tilts his head, watching you with an expression that feels far too tender for your liking, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. “Y’know, princess… I think you might like me.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and dangerous, and you force out a scoff, shaking your head as you pull your legs away from his and sit up straighter, putting some much-needed distance between you. “You’re delusional, babe,” you mutter, ignoring the way your heart stumbles over itself.

But as you turn your gaze to the fire and refuse to meet his eyes, you already know you’re lying—to him, and to yourself.

eight.

A year ago, on the night of your sophomore formal, your date ghosted you last-minute with only a “can’t make it” text to explain.

You freaked out, panic-scrolled through your contacts list for who still didn’t have a date, and, after a few additional minutes of hyperventilating and really talking yourself into it, spam-called Atsumu. You hadn’t expected him to actually say yes.

He showed up at your door just in time, dressed in his nicest suit and his blonde hair combed neatly, armed with your favorite flowers just-because. And you’d told him then that he didn’t have to do this for you, that this didn’t make you two friends, that this didn’t mean anything at all—neither the dance to him nor him to you. 

But he had just smiled, that crooked, heartbreaking smile of his, and said, “Sure, sure, princess. Ain’t like I had anythin’ better to do, right?” And when he took your hand to lead you out, his touch was gentle, careful, as if he was afraid you might break if he held on too tight. At the end of the night, you had kissed him on the cheek to say thank you, and when you pulled away, he had that softness in his eyes, a mix of bravery and hope and something else you couldn’t quite place. It’s a look that’s haunted you since last winter, something that lingers in every new guy you kiss in nasty frat houses or meet on Hinge, because no one else quite looks at you like that.

And that’s terrifying. Because last night, he looked at you the exact same way, fiddling with your anklet and admitting his most vulnerable secrets, undoing your own understanding of him and his character and upending all the reasons you hate him. 

***

The next day, you are actively avoiding thinking about Atsumu, and as the afternoon fades into a soft, early evening, you find yourself in the kitchen helping Osamu prepare for dinner. Everyone’s already returned from the day trip to Morioka and are now spread throughout the cabin, recovering before eating and the planned game night after. 

The quietude of the tasks are meditative, the rhythmic peeling of potatoes matching the gentle bubbling of the curry on the stove. Osamu moves around with an effortless grace, his movements methodical and precise and deliberate; he operates so seamlessly that his presence is both comforting and slightly unnerving. Despite only being here for a little over a week, it’s like he already knows the kitchen by heart, so much so that you find yourself wondering if perhaps he is too perfect, too polished.

The room is filled with the smells of cooking and the occasional clink of utensils against bowls, a domestic symphony that should be comforting.

But it’s just… not.

“Ya need any help with those?” His voice snaps you from your thoughts and you vehemently shake your head.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ve got this,” you reply, though your hands continue their steady work and he ends up reaching over and taking one from the pile anyway. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, noting the way his brows furrow slightly as he focuses on his task.

The conversation flows easily enough. It meanders on safe topics, the kind that fill the air but leave little impact; you talk about college, the upcoming events for the week, and the movies Chizuru picked for the night. It’s not particularly energetic or enthusiastic, especially now that you’re acutely avoiding mentioning Atsumu (all while cursing the blonde for pointing out last night the uncomfortable fact that, yes, in fact your conversations with Osamu are always easier when Atsumu’s the topic), but it is continuous and ongoing and maybe that will do. 

“Ever thought about opening your own restaurant?” you ask, clinging to a thread of conversation that might spark more interest.

Osamu’s reaction is a simple mild chuckle, a sound that lacks any real depth.

“‘Tsumu thinks I should too,” he responds without looking up from his knifework. “Maybe one day, when things settle down a bit.”

You nod, but the response doesn’t satisfy you. It’s sensible, reasonable—just like everything about Osamu. But where’s the challenge, the playful banter that Atsumu always brought into even the simplest interactions? The thought of Atsumu’s teasing, his infectious laughter, and the way he could turn even a mundane moment into a playful challenge makes you ache with a sudden intensity. 

You miss him.

The realization comes unbidden, a silent whisper amid the clatter of the kitchen. It’s a missing piece that makes Osamu’s perfect attentiveness seem somehow incomplete. You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling a chill that has nothing to do with the evening air seeping through the slightly ajar kitchen window.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur. You help with cooking the rice, taste test with laughter and light conversation, but beneath it all is a current of dissonance. It’s not long before you’re wiping your hands on your apron and excusing yourself to get changed before dinner, and quietly slip upstairs.  

They say ignorance is bliss, and last night is proof. The conversation you just had with Osamu is nothing out of the ordinary, not at all different from the mornings you’ve spent together over the last week. And even now, it’s not that you don’t like Osamu, because you do. He’s good, he’s kind. He’s the kind of guy your parents would be proud of you for being with, a sort of stable and calm and reliable that’s everything you ever wanted. That’s everything you thought you ever wanted.

Somehow right now, it feels slightly hollow. 

As you step into your room, you let out a long sigh. Glancing at your phone, you briefly entertain the idea of texting Atsumu. You want to scream at him for ruining your developing feelings for his twin, blame him for destroying the tiny hint of stability you had for the week. But you don’t do that, mostly because that would be stupid to blame him for, but also because you think that if you see him right now, you might make a stupid decision you’ll end up regretting. 

nine.

Thanks to Chizuru’s insistence (it’s Christmas Eve, you have to!), you are convinced into joining tonight’s games of trivia and Jeopardy despite your misanthropy. Curse her and her supreme begging skills. You had been hoping to avoid the twins as much as humanly possible. 

Atsumu, sitting opposite you, kicks your foot. “Are ya good, princess?” he whispers when you look at him and raise your eyebrow. Aran, leading tonight, is saying something about Jeopardy rules, but it goes unheard, because the blonde in front of you continues, “Penny for your thoughts please.”

“You don’t have a penny,” you whisper back. “Pay me for my thoughts, dumbass.”

“What kinda guy d’ya take me for?” Atsumu mock-scoffs back. “A prostitute?”

Despite all the thoughts swirling in your mind, his stupid grin distracts you from them and you end up rolling your eyes, feeling the hint of a smile pull at your lips. “Maybe. You’re already kinda a fuckboy.”

“Don’tcha worry then, ‘cause you’re still ma favorite client,” he grins back. 

And you let yourself smile too.

***

The sorority ends up winning because Mao is a history major and there are no noticeable questions about agriculture or Sigmund Freud or business management or the average expenditure of calories (Kita, Suna, Osamu, and Atsumu respectively—the boys lowkey all study odd shit now that you think about it) that could allow the frat board to gain an upper hand. For the first time ever, you thank Mao for reciting her textbooks out loud to study, because now all of you are forced to have a comprehensive knowledge of war dates and Confucious.

The prize for winning, however, is a Certificate of Extraordinary Intelligence in Useless Facts, so Mao has officially launched herself into a very long declaration that history is not useless, so you don’t know if there was really a winner in the end.

It’s not in the itinerary for the night, but when Yui looks out the window and points out the clear sky, everyone is quick to agree to step outside for a “breath of fresh air.” Everyone meaning everyone but Kita, who is off to pack because he’s leaving at midnight to go stay with his family nearby. Though it would be Kita to have family in the little northern sector of Iwate: you could just see him living in a town of 50 one day, leading the calm, remote village life. You’ve never been close to the president of INA, but you guess he probably deserves to live a simple farm life because the foxes absolutely owe it to him for keeping the organization together.

The crisp night wind nips at your cheeks as you leave the cabin’s warmth, but after sitting around the table for so long you feel only invigorated by the chill; it really is the perfect night because the whole sky is just a tapestry of twinkling stars. The porch light casts a gentle glow, and the snow glistens under the moonlight, gorgeous and serene.

Without warning, Atsumu scoops up a handful of snow and lobs it at Osamu, who dodges just in time, causing the snowball to hit the cabin door with a soft thud. The playful challenge is met with enthusiasm, and within moments, everyone is gathering ammunition.

You’re bending down to scoop up your own snow when suddenly the shock of the cold against your warm skin causes you to let out a yelp. You spin around, eyes blazing, to find Atsumu standing there with a triumphant smirk on his face; his hand still holds some of the evidence, though most of it has been so rudely shoved down your back. 

“You jerk!” you yell, shrieking and jumping up and down, trying to shake the ice from the back of your sweater. Your tone is of annoyance, but it’s hard to stay truly mad when the whole scene is so ridiculously fun.

Atsumu is already backing away, a wild, teasing grin plastered across his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief under the moonlit night. “C’mon, princess, don’t tell me ya can’t handle a lil’ snow!” he taunts, his laughter echoing around the snowy clearing.

As if you’d let Atsumu just get away with that. So naturally, you scoop up as much snow as you can in your cold, red hands and take off sprinting after him, screaming, “Oh, you’re dead!”

The thrill of the pursuit drives away any lingering annoyance from last night; you barely even register the way your heart pounds with adrenaline and cheeks flush from the cold. The laughter of the others fades into the background as your focus narrows down to the gleeful figure darting just ahead of you.

Atsumu is fast, sure, but your determination is faster, and the freshly fallen snow slows him down just enough for you to gain ground. With a determined yell, you launch your armful of snow at his back, hitting him squarely between the shoulder blades; the impact makes him stumble forward with a playful groan. “Alright, alright, I give!” he laughs when he spins to face you, raising his hands in mock defeat.

Just as you think you’ve won, just as you start laughing triumphantly and let your guard down, he’s charging back at you. You try to sidestep, but the slippery ground betrays you, and you both end up tumbling into a soft snowdrift. The world whirls into a blur of white and laughter as you wrestle in the snow, trying to pin each other down. Atsumu manages to get the upper hand briefly, pinning your wrists gently above your head with a victorious grin. His breath comes in visible puffs in the cold air, his face inches from yours, eyes sparkling with mischief and something warmer.

“You’re such a child!” you shout, breathless from both the cold and the exertion.

“You love it,” he retorts, a smug grin plastered across his face despite the snow sticking to his hair and clothes.

You roll and wrangle and as you do, Atsumu manages to push more snow down the back of your shirt, making you squeal and squirm. “Atsumu!” you shriek, half-annoyed, half-panting, mostly all laughing. Your hands are freezing, but you keep trying to shove snow into his face in retaliation until you finally manage to squish his face with a clump of snow. The rest of the group watches, cheering at your antics, thoroughly entertained by the display, but their voices go unregistered to both of you as you both fall back, exhausted and satisfied and covered in snow, looking up at the starry sky. 

As the laughter subsides and the rapid heartbeat begins to slow, you and Atsumu lie sprawled in the snow, the cold forgotten for a moment. The serene silence that falls over both of you is a rare kind of peace, something that feels close to perfect. You can see Atsumu’s chest rise and fall with each breath, his eyes reflecting the twinkling stars above, and there’s something unspoken in the way he looks at you—something that makes you feel softer, lighter, like you’re floating on air. 

You want to say something sarcastic. You want to throw more snow into his face and tell him he looks stupid. You want to be mean to him and you want him to flirt with you so you can tell him to fuck off. He’s the bane of your existence. He riles you up and makes you angrier than most other people ever could. It’s so much easier to argue with him. It’s so much easier to hate him. 

But you don’t. So you just lie there and take it in.

ten.

The moment gets stolen by a voice. 

“Oi, lovebirds, everyone’s headin’ in! You two plannin’ on makin’ snow angels all night, or do ya wanna join the rest of us by the fire?” Osamu calls out.

Atsumu glares in the voice’s direction, his brow creasing. The peaceful moment shatters like thin ice underfoot, and you can practically hear the crack because it’s visible in how his gaze shifts from the stars above to his brother and the tension in his grip that wasn’t there before. “Can’t ya see we’re havin’ a moment here?” he snaps back, the words almost biting through the frigid air.

Osamu, unbothered by the snap, just chuckles and strolls over, offering a hand to help you up. “Yeah, yeah, yer playin’ in the snow like a couple of kids. Let’s get inside, yer gonna catch cold.” His concern is sincere, his tone sweet. You accept the hand with a smile; when you stand fully up, Osamu wraps his arm around your shoulders and leans in close enough to mumble, “Yui told me that ya get sick easy. Got worried, hope ya ain’t too mad at me for snatchin’ ya away.”

His close presence is warmth cutting through your chill and you subconsciously lean into him. “Oh, thank you,” you say softly; he sounds so genuine. “You’re really considerate. It’s just At-”

You turn around to find Atsumu pushing himself up, brushing snow from his hair. He had been watching your quiet exchange with close eyes, and now that you really look at him again, his expression is briefly unfamiliar. It’s just for a brief second—a moment so quick it was gone in an instant—but you could have sworn it was a gaze tighter, darker, than you have ever seen from him before and it makes you shiver. It’s quick to be replaced by his usual grin when he notices your concerned expression, though, as if he’s trying to placate you. As if he doesn’t want you to know how he’s feeling. 

The snowball fight had been playful, a rare truce in your usual war of words with Atsumu, and now he seems reluctant to let that end. Still, his tone is light, or at least lighter than before, laced with a hint of forced cheerfulness, when he assures you, “S’okay, princess. Let’s get inside.”

But the sharpness in his eyes betrays his words. And as if to keep pushing him, to keep jamming his finger straight into the bruise, Osamu’s arm slips downwards to hover around your waist—it’s so delicate that you wouldn’t have noticed the shift in position if not for the way his hold ever so slightly tightens to pull you closer. 

Atsumu’s smile fades into something heavier and his hands clench into tight fists by his side and there’s a look that crosses his features, something filled with irritation; there’s a palpable tension between the two brothers that makes you nervous. Still, Osamu just smiles like he’s completely oblivious, cheerily saying, “Yeah, don’tcha worry, ‘Sumu. Just tryna keep our princess warm.”

Our princess. The words are loaded. Osamu isn’t just being kind; he’s provoking him. He’s pushing his brother, trying to see just how far Atsumu’ll let him go, trying to drive a reaction out of him. 

There’s an undeniable undercurrent of something more in the air. 

Atsumu, witnessing this, locks his jaw, his good-natured facade struggling to mask the surge of emotions that seem to whirl behind his eyes. And yet, he stops. He doesn’t say anything, even though it seemed as though he would, even though when you met his eyes there was that terrifying darkness from before. Atsumu just turns on his heel and starts marching back towards the cabin.

And for some reason you can’t quite comprehend, you feel your heart sink.

eleven.

It’s significantly quieter that night. 

Atsumu hadn’t shown up to dinner, nor did he join everyone to watch Elf in the living room. Chizuru and Aran had expressed concern, offering to go upstairs and check on him, but Osamu had assured them all that Atsumu was fine and just worn out from the day and that had seemed to placate them. You tried to trust his word too, but even as the film plays and Osamu drapes his arm onto the couch behind you and Yui nudges you and wiggles her brow at the closeness and you try to convince yourself that you’re fine, you can’t help the awful feeling of dread you have in the pit of your stomach. 

It doesn’t go away even when the movie ends and you retreat upstairs to shower and get to bed; it doesn’t go away even when you settle into the softness of your sheets and turn out the lights; it doesn’t go away even when the only illumination in the room comes from your phone as you stalk your Instagram homepage trying to distract your mind. You almost want to hear Atsumu’s overwhelmingly loud and obnoxious laughter from the next room; you want to know that he’s okay, and you don’t really even understand why. You’ve spent the last two years being an Atsumu Hater™ and here you are anyway, your heart racing. 

But just as you’re about to surrender to the warmth of your blankets, your ears pick up the muffled but unmistakable timbre of raised voices from the room next door.

The Miya twins.

You sit up in bed, heart pounding. You can’t make out the words through the wall, but the low rumble of Osamu’s voice and the sharper, heated tone of Atsumu’s are unmistakable. You hesitate for a moment, caught between pressing your ear against the wall to catch more of the conversation or trying to ignore it altogether. But then Atsumu’s voice cuts through clearly, loud and raw with frustration:

“Why’re ya doin’ this, Samu? Seriously, what the hell?”

You freeze.

There’s a pause. Osamu’s voice comes next, calmer but with a sharp edge that makes the air in your room feel heavy. “Doin’ what, exactly? Bein’ nice? Spendin’ time with her? ‘Cause last I checked, you’re the one who’s been actin’ like she don’t exist unless it’s to get under her skin.”

You hear the sound of something—maybe a chair or a bed frame—scraping against the floor. Atsumu’s voice comes back, even louder. “Don’t gimme that crap! You know what I’m talkin’ about! You’ve been all over her this whole week, like you’re tryin’ to... to—”

“To what, Tsumu?” Osamu cuts in, his tone sharp enough to make you flinch even from the other side of the wall. “To do what you won’t? You’ve had two years to say somethin’, to do anythin’, but all you’ve done is act like a damn idiot around her. And now you’re mad at me ‘cause I actually treat her like a person?”

Your chest tightens. You press your hands against your mouth to stifle the sharp inhale that escapes you. Are they... talking about you?

There’s a heavy silence. For a moment, you think maybe it’s over, but then Atsumu speaks again, quieter this time, almost hesitant. “It’s not like that...”

“Oh, isn’t it?” Osamu snaps. “If it’s not like that, then why are you so pissed off, huh? If you don’t care about her, why’s it eatin’ at ya every time I so much as look at her?”

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice now, though it’s tinged with something more serious. “Admit it, Tsumu. You like her. Hell, you’ve probably liked her for years, but you’re too chicken to do anything about it. So don’t come at me like I’m the bad guy when all I’m doin’ is fillin’ the space you left wide open.”

Your heart is pounding so loud you’re surprised they can’t hear it through the wall.

“I—” Atsumu starts, but his voice falters. He sounds... small. Defeated. “I don’t—”

“Yeah? Then prove it,” Osamu interrupts. “If you really don’t care, I’ll back off. But if you do? If you actually want a chance with her? Then grow up and ask her out before it’s too late.”

Another beat of silence stretches between them, so tense and thick it feels like the walls of your room might crack under the weight of it. Then there’s the sound of footsteps—heavy, frustrated—and the slam of a door.

Your mind is racing. You sit there frozen for what feels like hours, trying to piece together what you’ve just heard, what it all means, and why your heart feels like it might break free of your chest.

You glance at the door to your room, wondering if Atsumu’s stormed off to his, or if—

A knock. A soft, hesitant knock at your door.

Your breath catches.

twelve.

The knock comes again, a little louder this time, but you don’t move. You press your face into the pillow, hold your breath, and will your heartbeat to calm down. He waits for a moment, long enough that you can almost picture him standing just outside your door, shifting on his feet and second-guessing himself.

Finally, there’s a sigh, barely audible through the door. The sound makes your chest ache.

But then the floor creaks softly as he steps away, and the silence that follows feels louder than anything he could have said.

You stay like that for a long time, staring into the darkness of your room as the words from the argument next door replay in your head on an endless loop. You don’t know how to feel, or even what to feel, but one thing is certain—you’re not going to get any sleep tonight.

***

The next morning, the sound of laughter and the warm scent of cinnamon pull you from your restless slumber. It’s Christmas morning.

You drag yourself out of bed, trying to shake the unease still settled in your chest, and join everyone downstairs. The living room is alive with energy—Chizuru and Yui are wearing matching pajamas and passing out mugs of hot cocoa, Aran is fiddling with the Bluetooth speaker to get a holiday playlist going, and Osamu is helping himself to the tray of cookies on the coffee table, ignoring Chizuru’s scolding about “ruining the aesthetic before everyone’s here.”

But even with all the warmth and chatter, the absence is glaring.

Atsumu is nowhere to be seen.

You try not to let it bother you. He’s probably just sleeping in. Or avoiding you after last night. You’re not sure which thought twists your stomach more.

The morning rolls on, and soon everyone gathers for the gift exchange. Laughter fills the air as ribbons are untied, wrapping paper is torn apart, and heartfelt thank-yous are exchanged. Yui squeals over the skincare set Kita picked out for her, and Aran grins ear-to-ear at the custom jersey Chizuru ordered. Even Osamu looks pleased with the knife set you picked out for him, ruffling your hair as he thanks you.

But as the last gifts are unwrapped, you realize something’s missing.

Everyone else has given you something, no matter how small—a book from Chizuru, earrings from Yui, a scarf from Suna—but Atsumu’s name is noticeably absent.

You don’t say anything, but you feel the knot of disappointment settle in your chest. Maybe it’s silly to care so much. Maybe it’s selfish. But after the week you’ve had, after all the bickering, the teasing, and everything you heard last night, you thought...

You thought he’d at least try.

***

The rest of the day passes in a blur of food and laughter, but you can’t shake the hollow feeling that lingers in the back of your mind. That night, you retreat to your room early, needing the quiet to sort through your thoughts.

You’re not expecting the knock.

It’s soft at first, like he’s testing whether you’ll even respond. You hesitate, wondering if you should ignore it again like last night. But then it comes again, more insistent.

“Hey,” Atsumu’s voice calls softly through the door. “You awake?”

You don’t answer, but you also don’t move.

A pause. Then: “I know you’re probably mad at me or somethin’, but... I wanna show ya somethin’. Come on, get up. Please.”

There’s something in his voice that makes your stomach flip—nervousness, maybe, or the slightest tinge of vulnerability.

When you still don’t reply, he tries again. “There’s... there’s somethin’ I wanna say, but it’ll be easier if ya just come with me. I’ll be out back. Meet me at the hot tub if you wanna.”

His footsteps retreat, leaving you alone in the quiet.

For a moment, you just sit there, staring at the door and debating whether to follow him or let the silence stay.

But curiosity—and maybe something else—wins out. You pull yourself from the bed, slide on your slippers, and head downstairs.

thirteen.

The night air is crisp, biting against your skin as you step out onto the pool deck. The stars above are sharp pinpricks in the deep velvet sky, their light barely competing with the soft glow of the string lights strung along the edge of the fence.

Your heart pounds as you glance around, unsure of what you’re expecting. And then you see him.

Atsumu is sitting by the edge of the hot tub, his legs dipped into the warm water, hands fidgeting in his lap. The tension in his shoulders eases the moment his eyes meet yours, and he lights up in a way that makes your chest ache. He stands quickly, his movements awkward but eager, like he’s been waiting for hours just for this moment.

“You came,” he says softly, his voice carrying over the gentle hum of the water.

You nod, stepping closer, unsure what to say. There’s a nervous energy between you now, not the usual teasing or bickering, but something fragile and unspoken. 

He gestures toward the edge of the hot tub. You hesitate for only a moment before moving to sit beside him, the warmth of the bubbling water chasing away the chill in the air. Neither of you speak at first, the silence thick but not uncomfortable.

When you glance at him, you notice his hands are no longer fidgeting. Instead, they rest on his knees, tense, like he’s holding himself back.

The quiet stretches on, and you don’t know whether it’s you or him who breaks it first. But then he moves—slowly, carefully—and cups your face with his hands.

You can’t breathe. You can’t even comprehend anything but his large, warm hands gentle around your face. His thumbs brush softly against your cheeks, and his eyes meet yours with an intensity that makes your chest tighten. He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t need to. The way he looks at you—steady and unguarded—says it all.

And in that moment, you’re reminded of everything.

The way he looked at you during truth or dare, his gaze flickering with something almost too heavy to hold. The way he showed up for you, always, even when you tried to convince you both that it didn’t mean anything. The way he looked at you that very first night you met him, in the dim, crowded, musty basement of the frat house, when your heart had betrayed you by skipping a beat the very moment his golden eyes landed on you. He has never looked more beautiful; he has never seemed more human. 

You love him. Oh god. 

You love him.

Atsumu hesitates, leaning in slightly but stopping just short, his breath warm against your skin. He pauses, like he’s waiting for your permission, or maybe just bracing himself for the possibility that you’ll pull away.

Against all odds, you kiss him first.

The moment your lips meet, he lets out a small, almost startled sound before kissing you back. His hands slide to the sides of your neck, steady and sure, while his lips move against yours like he’s been imagining this for years. He holds you like he’s terrified that this isn’t real, like if he lets go then you’ll disappear. Your fingers knot in his t-shirt, his hand gets lost in your hair, you are breathless in every way but you don’t care because if he wanted to steal the air straight from your lungs you would let him. 

When you finally part, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your skin, both of you quiet as the world seems to settle into a kind of peace. For a moment, he just looks at you, his expression so tender and full of awe that you wonder if he’s committing this moment to memory. And then he grins—a smile so wide and full of boyish delight that it makes your heart skip a beat.

“So you do like me,” he teases, his voice warm, his thumb brushing against your cheek. 

You snort. “Nah, I change my mind. I hate you.”

He rolls his eyes because he knows you’re bluffing, and just kisses you again.

The two of you sit there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other and the quiet intimacy of the night. But then you remember something, a question that’s been gnawing at the back of your mind all day.

“Atsumu?”

“Hmm?” he hums, still holding you close, his fingers absently tracing small circles against your skin.

“Why didn’t you get me a Christmas gift?”

He freezes for a moment, blinking at you like he’s just remembered something. “Oh, crap.”

“What?” you ask, laughing at the sudden panic in his face.

“That’s what I came here for,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, before quickly standing and rummaging through the pocket of his hoodie. He pulls out a small, folded cloth pouch, holding it carefully in his hands like it’s something precious.

“I’ve had this for years,” he says, his voice soft, almost hesitant, as he sits back down beside you. “And I didn’t know if I should give it to ya. Or if it was even the right time. But... I guess it is now.”

He opens the pouch and carefully empties its contents into his hand.

You stare, halting as you take in what’s inside:

A small square of paper with the element “Au” drawn on it, the edges worn like it’s been folded and unfolded a thousand times. “From freshman year chem,” he explains softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You were the only one who laughed when I joked that it stood for Atsumu instead of gold.”

A torn scrap of notebook paper with your name written on it in messy handwriting. “Greek match,” he says, chuckling quietly. “I wrote it down when they paired us up. Figured it’d be my one excuse to talk to ya.”

A dried, pressed petal from a rose. “Semi-formal,” he murmurs. “You were wearin’ that red dress, and I was an idiot who thought bringin’ roses was a good idea. You said they were beautiful, but you... you were somethin’ else entirely.”

There’s other little things, little bits and pieces from the two years you’ve known each other, little reminders that you can barely remember a time where he wasn’t in your life. Atsumu has been a part of your routine since the day he met you. You lived eighteen years without knowing him, but you can’t imagine living without him anymore. 

And then, as if you weren’t touched enough, he passes you another small wrapped item. You gently peel back the paper to find the Mt. Iwate snow globe he had bought before you could last week. 

As you cradle the snow globe in your hands, the memory of that day comes rushing back—Atsumu’s smug grin as he held up the very item you’d been planning to buy, the gleam of satisfaction in his golden eyes when you’d glared at him. You’d been so furious, so determined to outmatch him for the rest of the trip, but now, holding the snow globe in your hands, all you can feel is an overwhelming warmth.

“You…” Your voice falters as you run your thumb over the cool glass, watching the tiny flakes swirl around the miniature Mt. Iwate. “You bought this for me?”

He shrugs, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Felt bad for bein’ an ass that day. But ya stormed off before I could give it to ya, and then… I guess I kept it, hopin’ one day it’d mean more.”

You blink at him, at the boy sitting beside you, nervously scratching the back of his neck. The boy who had spent two years teasing and frustrating you, yet somehow still managed to worm his way into your heart. The boy who’d quietly kept a snow globe and a collection of mementos, waiting for the right moment to share them with you.

“Atsumu…” Your voice is soft, almost fragile, as you set the snow globe down and turn to face him fully. “This is—” You pause, searching for the right words. “You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“I know,” he says quickly, his gaze dropping to the water, then back to you. “But I wanted to. You’re… important to me, y’know? And I don’t always show it the right way, but—”

“You don’t have to explain,” you interrupt, your heart swelling at the vulnerability in his voice. “I get it. I do.”

His eyes search yours, his expression caught somewhere between relief and disbelief. For a moment, the two of you just sit there, the night air heavy with unsaid things. Then you reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his, and his breath catches audibly.

“You’re not as bad as you think you are,” you tease lightly, trying to ease the tension, though your voice wavers with the weight of everything unspoken.

“Yeah?” His grin is lopsided, nervous, but the spark of playfulness in his eyes is unmistakable. “Don’t get used to me bein’ this sweet, though. Still gotta keep you on your toes.”

You laugh softly, leaning your head against his shoulder, your fingers still tangled with his. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

For a while, you sit in companionable silence, the bubbling of the hot tub and the distant chirping of crickets filling the air. You watch as the snow globe sits on the edge of the tub, the flakes settling gently at the base. Somehow, it feels like everything—your bickering, his teasing, the hesitant steps toward this moment—has led to this: an unspoken understanding that this, whatever it is between you, is real.

Finally, Atsumu breaks the silence. “So… was that the right gift?” He nudges your shoulder lightly, his tone casual but his eyes searching.

You pretend to think, your lips twitching into a smirk. “Hmm… It’s alright, I guess.”

His jaw drops in mock offense, his free hand flying to his chest. “Alright? Do you know how much thought I put into that?”

You grin, squeezing his hand. “It’s perfect, Atsumu.”

His expression softens, and for a moment, he just looks at you, his golden eyes warm and steady. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice low. “Because you’re kinda perfect to me, too.”

And just like that, he has you all over again—breathless, flustered, and hopelessly in love. You lean up and kiss him, slow and soft, and when you pull back, his boyish grin is so bright it almost hurts to look at.

“Alright, enough mushy stuff,” you say, standing up and stretching, though your heart is still racing. “I’m freezing, and I need to head back inside before I turn into an icicle.”

Atsumu groans dramatically but follows your lead, climbing out of the hot tub and grabbing the snow globe for you. He drapes his hoodie around your shoulders as you head back toward the cabin, the warmth of it—and him—chasing away the cold.

As you walk, side by side, you realize something: revenge had been the last thing on your mind tonight. Because somehow, Atsumu had managed to do what he always did—get under your skin and make himself impossible to hate. And for once, you weren’t going to fight it.

Tomorrow, you might bicker again. He might steal your favorite mug, or you might prank him during breakfast. But tonight, under the glow of the stars and the string lights, you let yourself fall a little deeper, knowing he’d be there to catch you.

⨭ closing; i love this one sm honestly. i lowkey even drew out the room plan of the cabin in case ur curious, which looks like this:

btw all the sorority girls mentioned are actually the girls' karasuno team lol; i'm trying rly hard to keep these stories all in the same universe but there are so few girls in the hq universe and even less in high school </3 wld it be confusing if i started reusing kiyoko and yachi as y/n's besties it wld be so much easier on me :')

vote down below or maybe offer some suggestions for other ways to work around the lack of girl besties/roommates/etc (ie. maybe age change!older/younger sisters??)

[keferon]

texaid mecha au babble.

Even tho Jazz is ofc The Music Guy. Thinking about. Vortex being a chatty MF. Bitching about how most of his previous pilots had NO taste in music, and he killed at least 2 over the annoyance. Maybe he brings it up, teasingly asking First Aid if he wants to pick the soundtrack for his living horror movie. But instead First Aid reflects the question, and asks what Vortex wants to hear. Vortex would probably brush it off, naming the most vulgar song he can think of, but when First Aid actually brings in a little speaker and plays it anyways... totally rags on him for being a people pleaser. And maybe makes him play it loud enough that it echoes in the hangar. It's not like they can just replace the one pilot who survived over a little WAP. But in the end, Vortex does rattle off a few songs. Loud, and violent, and perfectly suited to him. They are played for him, and never satisfied, he asks for more. Over time, the older technicians who listen closely realize that his old workout playlist is being rebuilt- all the tracks he used to listen to in the pilots training area, regardless of how many times he was told to keep it down.

The nostalgia is nice, for a while, but eventually it fades. Vortex is less absorbed in the music, more prone to mischief- not a great mood for him to be in with First Aid inside him. Maybe First Aid finds out some of Vortex's favorite bands released albums after his death, and brings them in. They make a night of it- First Aid standing in the cockpit, playing DJ but still not willing to get in the pilots seat unless necessary. At first he's tense, as usual, unable and unwilling to forget the constant threat of the weapon he entertains. But it goes on a long while- and he begins to sway. Gently, swaying on his feet, tapping the beat out on his arm, nodding his head along. Eventually, the last song ends, and the night is over. First Aid is startled by the silence, and only then realizes his eyes had been closed. On the screen, text mocks him. "Next time you give me a private show, bring the karaoke versions. I wanna know if you sing as poorly as you dance"

Oh MY GOD AHAHAHWHWHWHWHWH

YES. OH THIS IS AMAZING I LOVE IT

Imagine someone who knew Vortex just happen to be around and hear it.

Imagine Swindle entering the building and instantly recognising the song and just. Fucking. Freezing for a second.

[boolger]

Never getting rid of me - John Price x reader

Hi sinners, so here are some dark!john price x reader thoughts that got out of hand. Yes, inspired by the song ‘never getting rid of me’, both the musical version but also the more creepy version by Egg on Spotify.

Dead dove don’t eat. Read the tags. Mdni. 18+. Tw creepy ass Price, stalking, kidnapping, non-con and dub-con, forced marriage, forced gender role/stereotypes, non-con punishments, loss of virginity, daddy kink, squirting, just….dont read if you’re looking for a sweet fic w John price. There will also be feet kink and scent kink.

Reader is chubby and described as having a pussy and perceived to be a woman by Price. Whether or not the reader actually is this, is up to you, really. besides that, i did my best to keep the description of reader vague. I apologize for any grammatical errors. English is not my first language and i am ttired

Something something dark! Price who sees you randomly at a coffee shop where you serve him awful tea - but it’s okay, pet, because you are the most beautiful and innocent thing Price has ever seen.

Dark!Price who knows it’s best to be sweet at first as to not scare you away - he can’t lose you this early, you’re perfect for his retirement after all, even though that’s far into the future. So despite the bloody awful tea, Price does his best to be a regular at the shop.

He even walks you home afterwards, you just don’t know it. He doesn’t consider it stalking — no no, he is just making sure you come home safe after your shift! Never know what kind of men are out there after all, besides himself of course.

While you’re at work, he breaks into your house early, going through everything throughout a couple of days. After an hour or two (sometimes three if he is feeling cheeky) he leaves, going to the shop to see you. He has time off before the next mission, what else is he supposed to do?

And is that a diary? Oh my, how convenient for Price, he needs to know his sweetheart's thoughts after all. And boy, does he learn a lot of fun things in that little book of yours

He becomes obsessed with very specific things in the following days — the way you write the letter J and P. The way you organize the fridge, the way your socks and underwear smells - so sweet, so perfect. All you. He liked how you read a lot of romance, how you always drank dr. Pepper every Friday evening. 

Okay, so you might prefer coffee, but don’t worry, Price knows he can fix that! You just need to taste actual tea, good tea, not the dog piss he drinks at the coffee shop almost every day by now.

He pulls a few strings and gets access to all of your electronics and oh isn’t it fun to see what you do on your phone every day, what music he needs to get on CD, because a silly lass like you can’t be trusted to have a phone when you get together in the future, can you? Not at first at least, maybe you can earn back the right with time.

Dark!Price loves seeing what kind of porn you watch. Loves seeing what your search words are, whether it’s kinky or not.

Especially after reading in your diary that you are a virgin! It has him frothing at his mouth, the urge to take you instantly, overwhelmingly strong when he sees the words for the first time.

Of course he always makes sure to put everything back in the exact same spot and way as he found it. Can’t have you stop writing in your sweet diary, it’s his favorite book already!

The first mission he goes on is awful. Sure everything goes smoothly and even though he has installed hidden cameras all over your apartment, it isn’t the same as being there.

Dark!Price who proudly shows you off to his team - the boys need to see who their captain is in love with after all. And he trusts his men, knows that they’re just as fucked up as him — they coo at the sight of you, of the few photos he has dared to take of you while you slept. Not his fault that you live in an apartment that is embarrassingly easy to break into, is it, pet? 

Dark!Price who feels so proud as his men drool over your soft curves, talking about your tits and ass and when Price mentions that you’re untouched, he is pretty sure Soap and Gaz almost come in their pants. Possibly Simon too, Price knows him, but he pretends he isn't as affected by the words - As if Price can’t see the man’s erection in his pants.

He gets everything ready, his little house in the middle of nowhere gets fixed up. He always imagined he would move into the house much later, when he actually retired but he can’t wait that long to have you. He loves the idea of having his missus all ready for him whenever he returns from work. All his. He would never let you go, you would always be his. He would take care of you forever - he already imagined bringing you to his mom, bless her. Old and sick, but you would charm her, he is sure.

Price who asks you out after two months of coming regularly to the coffee shop, putting on his best charming smile - and of course you, his future bride, says yes! All shyly, barely able to look him in the eyes, but there is a jump to your step afterwards and you’re grinning like you won the lottery.

Price, who is the perfect gentleman at the date, he takes you out somewhere nice, pays for everything despite your protests, soaks in all of your attention, who loves every second he spends with you. He is ready to declare his love for you at the end of the night but he knows it’s too early. He doesn’t try to kiss you, doesn’t even imply he wants to get in your knickers, despite his strong urge to do so. No, no need to scare you away.

so imagine Dark! Price’s reaction to seeing your diary entry the day afterwards - you describe him as too sweet, unsure if you’re ready for a relationship - almost upsets him, until the last line. He would probably be a nice person to lose my virginity to. That’s as good as a love confession to him! A bloody proposal almost and despite not having planned to move things along this quickly, well he has to, doesn’t he?

It’s embarrassingly easy to kidnap you together Gaz. He just happens to drive by you on your way home after a long shift, and saying “want a lift, sweetheart?” is all it takes.

Gaz who was hidden in the backseat and the moment the doors closes and locks, he sits up and uses one of those fancy syringes to stab you. Don’t make a fuss, don’t be silly, birdie, it’s all good! Just take a nap, eh? 

Nikolai and the rest of the team are almost finished packing up your things - they’ve been at it all day after all, dark!Price has personally packed the most important parts of your home, like that nice diary of yours, sextoys and underwear and all those nice photo albums you have. Nothing is getting left behind! You need to feel at home at his house after all. The boys almost deserve to have their fun with you at some point in the future.

He is there when you wake up, smiling happily at you, as you groggily take in the basement you’re currently in; See how some of your furniture is down there, the nice green color he painted the walls, how it’s your own lampshade hanging from the ceiling. He lets you take in the wedding dress hanging proudly in front of the wardrobe, the little bathroom not too far from you - the cameras that hang everywhere, not even attempting to be discreet. He has to make sure you’re behaving after all.

Dark!Price who gets incredibly turned on when you realize you’re wearing a metal collar and chained to the wall - the way your eyes widens and how confusion visibly changes into fear. Like a little prey releasing they’re in a trap - and unable to get out.

he is extremely proud over how he doesn’t take you right then and there, despite how much he wants too.

Oh how adorable your attempts at attacking him are! Even though you’re still groggy from those nasty sedatives, you hit his chest and try to claw at him. Screaming and crying, throwing a proper tantrum! He can’t help but laugh as you threaten him. “sure you’ll go to the police, pet” he agrees while he easily catches your fist that was aiming for his nose, “but no I’m not letting you go.”

you scream bloody murder, as if he has done you anything. Ridiculous. But Price patiently (and easily) fights you off all day. Teasing back, pointing out that it’s not that bad down here, trying to explain that the two of you are going to be together forever.

Price who lets you run out of energy that first day, until you’re a sobbing mess - gathering you into his arms, promising you that he is never gonna leave you, that you’re never getting rid of him. Not like all those other people in your life, no don’t worry, princess! Price will be your daddy, he will make sure you have everything you need! You’re not even going to work at that lousy job anymore, pet, don’t worry, he already quit it for you. 

Dark! Price, who is all sweet and gentle as he comforts you, kissing your forehead and temple, muttering about how silly you are - that he understands that you might feel a little overwhelmed - but look at how pretty your wedding dress is, sweetheart! All in the different sizes as well, don’t worry, he has taken your measurements and bra sizes and everything, his missus doesn't have to worry about anything. He saw your Pinterest boards, Gaz and Soap showed him how the website works, and saw all the different dresses you had dreamt of. Isn’t this perfect? Just for you!!

Dark! Price who doesn’t outright admit to having read your diary, breaking in or stalking you, despite all those accusations of yours… no no, he didn’t he just … got ready for the two of you to be together - but of course he knows so much about you sweetheart, he has seen the daddy kink porn you watch regularly, yeah he knows you’re a virgin. No no, he won’t rape you, what’s that all about? No, you’re saving your virginity to marriage, you’re a good girl - the two of you can wait another week, that’s nothing.

and after everything, how nice he has been and how he has sat everything up in the basement you’re still angry with him? Don’t be absurd, sweetheart, you would come around soon - you were going to be his missus after all, what kind of wife would you be if you didn’t want to talk to him?

Something something, he ends up pushing you to the floor, holding your hands down as he takes his time to properly smell you. Your pussy, over your clothes, don’t worry - your armpits. Grabs your ankle and sniffs your foot too. Sweet all over!

dark! Price who loses control of his anger when you throw the entire tray of breakfast that he made for you, at him. The tea is not too hot because of the milk, but still. You made a mess and that isn’t nice. He takes you over his knee for that, slapping your arse and upper thighs sore, leaves you an absolute mess. He apologizes afterwards of course, not really because he feels bad about it, but because you made him do that. He has to make sure you understand that there are consequences for your actions! 

Dark!Price who keeps you downstairs in that little basement of his, while you get your worst fits over with. He expected these, you’re a strong woman after all, you just need to understand that the two of you are meant for each other. Next week the boys will swing by and they’ll be witnesses as the two of you get married - isn’t that grand?

No, the shop won’t be looking for you, bird, don’t worry about that! You already quit immediately - had to move home for a family emergency, but you were very sorry about it. You already terminated your apartment lease too, moved out already! Pesky family emergency again, innit? No no don’t cry pet, Price knows you don’t have any family you’re close with, it’s okay. Nobody is hurt! All is good! You’re just being silly, you don’t know how good all of this will be for you. How you will be a perfect missus!

He will threaten and hurt you all week, but not touch that sweet pussy of yours - grope you? Sure, but nothing more than that. You’re not married yet after all. 

Price who sweetly explains that he knows you love him, even if you can’t say it out loud yet! That’s alright, sweet pet, you will be able to soon!

Dark! Price who happily makes it clear to you that making any kind of fuss at the town hall and they will kill everyone. You won’t have to wear the beautiful dress at the town hall, no, Price got you something much more simple, they don’t deserve to see you at your most beautiful - it will be quick anyways, don’t worry sweetheart. Just sign the papers. No fuss, remember? No protest - look, all the boys dressed up nicely in suits - and look! They’re all armed as well. Would be a bloody shame if you were guilty of getting so many people killed, wouldn’t it?

dark! Price who kisses you for the first time after you sign the papers, who almost wants to lick off the tears rolling down your cheeks as the workers of the town hall coos, thinking you’re crying from happiness. And you are, but you’re also a little overwhelmed, aren’t you, pet? Better get you home again.

dark!price who dresses you up at home, forcing you to swirl in your dress in front of his men, Nikolai and Laswell. All of them ignore your attempts at asking for help and you’re a quick learner - you figure out that they’re not going to help you after a few attempts. You’re his girl, his sweet missus, and you’re handcuffed as you sit on his lap during their dinner at home, being fed all the nicely made dinner from a fancy restaurant. You don’t even throw a fuss as you eat all together, so you’re rewarded with some champagne and wine. Good tasting, aren’t they?

Dark!Price who grins as he sends his guests on their merry way, while you begin to cry again, begging to not be left alone with him - aw, you’re so sweet when you’re getting nervous. Is the wine getting to your head?

Dark! Price who throws you over his shoulder then, not bringing you down to the basement but instead into your new shared bedroom. Laying you down on the bed, taking in the sight of you like this. In your wedding dress, surrounded by rose petals, painted all warm colors by the sunset. Cooing at you as you hiccup and cry and hide your face behind your hands, saying you don’t want to. Don’t worry, he will be nice! All gentle for you, pet, it will feel good!

Dark!Price who cuffs you to the bed, pushing up that nice dress of yours to expose your bottom half. Looking at the pretty lace he forced you into earlier, praising you for how beautiful you look! He kisses your thighs, keeping your legs open with his strong hands, taking his time. Finally the two of you are married. You’re going to be his in every way now! With a ring on your finger, a new name — losing your innocence to your husband.

Dark! Price who eats you, Mrs. Price, out all lovingly, enjoying the sounds that escape you against your will. Loving your taste, loving the way your legs shake, the way you cry as he ducks on your clit. He makes you come on his tongue and then fingers, and you’re perfect! Squirting for him! He is lapping up the sweetness that pours from you! See, he will make it feel good for you. He even frees your hands. 

Dark! Price who shushes your cries as he pushes his fat cock into your hole, ruining your sweet pussy for everybody else; he can feel how wet you are for him, croons at how good your cunt feels. How daddy will take care of you, just breathe. Yeah, just like that, c’mon princess, look down to see how the two of you are connected! He pushes in the last couple of inches the moment you look down, taking in your cry with pride, drowning in pleasure and ownership.

You’re so wet and warm around his big cock, he couldn’t help himself, lass! His perfect wife with a perfect cunt, feels so good - he is going to fill you up, don’t worry, but not until he has made you come again and again.

dark!Price who whispers “i know I know, pet,” as you whimper over how it feels weird, how it hurts because his cock is so big. Who drinks in the sight of you as he licks two fingers before slipping them in between the two of you, gently rubbing at your clit and oh, that feels nice, doesn’t it?

Dark! Price who finally begins to fuck you then - no, he isn’t fucking you, he is making love to you. The first round is all sweet and gentle, he is claiming you, taking his time. Covering you in kisses as he rolls his hips, touching all those soft places of yours. He wants to run his tongue over those stretch marks, wants to fuck his cock in between those two breasts of yours. But for now he fucks you as you deserve, enjoying your little moans and whines that grows stronger and louder, the way your body shakes and the way you grab onto his shoulder and back. How those sweet nails of yours digs into his skin.

Dark! Price who makes you come twice, cooing in your ear about how you wanted it after all, how you’re his wife forever now - before he comes himself, hot cum shooting deep inside of you.

The second round isn’t as gentle in any way - it’s after twenty minutes of holding and kissing you, cuddling you and declaring his love, that he takes you again. He fucks you, properly. He makes the bed rock as he fucks into you, making you scream and trash, before surprising the both of you by squirting again. 

Dark! Price who almost fucks you the entire night - yeah, he might have taken some viagra, but he honestly wouldn’t even have needed it, because you naked in front of him is enough. Wedding dress ripped to shreds, cum all over it and over you. You’re fucked from behind, then in a mating press. You pass out during the last round, much to his amusement! Sweet missus, all tired, eh? That’s okay, the two of you got the rest of your lives together - forever and ever, because you’re never getting rid of Price. Never.

[piastri-fvx]

Name Drop. Lando Norris.

pairing: rapper! lando x singer! zayn malik's sister! reader, smau (none of the f1 drivers mentioned are f1 drivers in this story, they're all just lando's friends and that's lowkey how they're known lol)

summary: When Lando's new song goes viral not only because it's very good, but also because he mentioned a special someone.

face claim: sabrina carpenterrrrr & girls from pinterest!! (also use of pics of different singers & rappers for lando!!)

disclaimer/s: very brief mention of magui in a comment, mothing else, though!! (i'm a joão félix fan lmao)

A/N: I'M BACKKKKKKKK!! i was sick for 2 weeks straight but i'm better now, so i can get back to writing (finally ughhhh) ket me know if you want to be on my permanent tag list and feel free to comment!! enjoy, my loves <3333

masterlist.

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@lando_norris_updates

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4 and 382.846 others

lando_norris_updates how lando feels after mentioning y/n. fricking. malik.

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user1 zayn's not gonna be happy lmaooo

user2 let my boy cook

-> user3 the song is fire tho, he cooked with that

user4 i swear if they're dating, i'll be so pissed

-> user5 not you thinking they care about your opinion 💀

-> user6 who does bro think he is

user7 isn't she zayn's sister?

-> user8 yeah but she's kinda a lot younger, she's lando's age

-> user7 oooohhh okay thanks

user9 playing that song on repeat 😣

user10 okay but hear me out, their voices together would break the internet

-> user11 i feel like everyone would eat that up

-> user12 yeah but remember, we don't even know if they know each other soooo

user13 collab incoming????? (i'm delusional)

-> user14 gonna spam both of their dms, who's with me?

-> user15 @user14 i'm on it 😝

user16 say less is my new favorite song 😍

@lando

liked by y/n_malik, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, zayn and 1.384.947 others

lando tysm for this opportunity and for dealing with me laughing when we trying to film lolllll @y/n_malik everyone go watch my new music video featuring the amazing y/n

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zayn careful what you say buddy ♥︎ by author

-> lando yes sir (respecting my elders as i should)

-> user1 oh- uh, lando, i don't think that's-

y/n_malik EVERYONE GO STREAM LANDO'S NEW SONG!!! ♥︎ by author

-> lando YESSSSS LISTEN TO Y/N

-> user2 not them already being besties lmao

user3 guys!! i saw them together in london and they looked really cozy with each other

-> user4 dating announcement incoming???

-> user5 tbh they don't have to tell us anything

-> user6 yeah we should respect their privacy

-> user7 maybe they're just friends, ever thought of that?

user8 it's crazy to me how everyone immediately assumes that they're dating, boys and girls can be friends too...

user9 i think they might be dating but let's honestly just leave them alone 😭

-> user10 yeah imagine you're just trying to live your life and people start shipping you with your friend

maxfewtrell proud bsf over here ♥︎ by author

-> y/n_malik he's my bsf now, go away, max (respectfully) ☺️ ♥︎ by author

user11 this is so unexpected thoooo

user12 i'm a y/n fan and i only found out about lando's career because of her and i'm honestly so grateful because his voive is literally beautiful

-> user13 welcome to the fandom!!

user14 okay but have you guys actually watched the video? because the eye contact at 2:38 is insane

-> user15 i think if someone stared into my eyes like THAT for THAT look, i'd ask 'what are we'

-> user16 i don't mean to make false assumptions but his eyes were practically screaming 'i love this girl'

-> user17 i honestly agree

user18 anyone noticed how close to kissing they were at one point in the video??

-> user19 YES OMG!! i thought i was the only one 😣

@y/n_malik

liked by zayn, lando, pietra.pilao, alexandrasaintmleux and 2.384.294 others

y/n_malik SUPRISE!! a say less version feat. me out now!! 🥰

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user1 WAHT WHAT OMG RUNNING TO SPOTIFY RN ♥︎ by author

user2 YOU HAVE A FEATURE ON LANDO'S SONG????

-> user3 it's a new version and they changed the lyrics of a part to fit herrrr

user4 i thought the original version of the song was good but i think i died and went to heaven when i listened to the version with you 😭 ♥︎ by author

-> user5 same i literally had goosebumps

user6 their voices together sound so fricking majesctic ughhhhh ♥︎ by author

-> user7 in desperate need of a whole joint album

user8 can we talk about her HIGH NOTE????????? LIKE WHAT????? HOW IS THAT EVEN HUMANLY POSSIBLE Y/N. ♥︎ by author

-> y/n_malik TYSMMMMMM

pietra.pilao stunning picture, i feel like nobody's talking about it!! my new favorite song, btw 😌 ♥︎ by author

-> y/n_malik i'm literally gonna kiss you girl ily sm 🫶

-> maxfewtrell excuse me???

-> y/n_malik apology accepted 🙌

user9 MAX F AND Y/N BEEF????

user10 WHO'S THIS DIVAAAAA

-> user11 it's aisha (y/n) b**** 😝

user12 y/n looking like a goddess out here as always 💞

user13 y/n please never let lando in any way influence your style 🙏🙏🙏 ♥︎ by author

-> y/n_malik i would never lmao

-> lando ouch?

-> y/n_malik sorry lan ☺️

user14 "lan" okay i see you girl

user15 smash 😣😣😣

user16 isn't lando dating magui?

-> user17 no he isn't and he also wasn't

@lando

liked by niallhoran, zayn, liampayne, alexandrasaintmleux and 10.847.927 others

lando happy birthday y/n ❤️

@y/n_malik

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user1 she looks like a princess ❤️😭

user2 how old is she now?

-> user3 22, she's two years younger than lando

y/n_malik i don't know about you, but i'm feeling 22 🥰 ♥︎ by author

taylorswift 🤭

user4 lando feeding us y/n crumbs is what kerps me alive 🙏

niallhoran i remember when she was a little girl 🙂 ♥︎ by author

-> user5 niall being her 2nd big brother is the cutest thing ever

user6 my two worlds colliding (lando and 1d)

-> user7 it's so crazy to me how y/n also lowkey grew up in front of our eyes

-> user8 i remember when she was like 10 and doing a live stream with the boys and they were being all cute and acting like y/n wasn't only zayn's little sister but also the other guys's little sister ehdndbmxnxkxkf

zayn you'll always be my little sister, y/n ❤️

-> y/n_malik ❤️

-> user9 not the fact that lando was out here liking all of the comments except this one 💀

user10 bro's scared because zayn's lowkey overprotective lmaoooo

harrystyles absolutely adore that version ♥︎ by author

-> y/n_malik TYYYYYY ❤️❤️❤️

y/n_malik lan took those pics with an actual camera in case you were wondering 🤭 ♥︎ by author

user11 anyone else hoping that y/n's still friends with the 1d boys? i mean obviously she talks to her brother but the other four?

-> louist91 y/n's still our friend dw ☺️

-> user12 HI LOUISSSSS

user13 lando entering his photographer era for y/n lmao ♥︎ by author

-> user14 lando has to teach us and tell us the settings he took the pictures at and what camera because those poctures are beautiful

user15 CUTIESSSSSS

alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous gorgeous girl ♥︎ by author

-> y/n_malik i miss you and leo 😭

-> user16 so you're telling me y/n is already besties with lando's friends/their girlfriends????

user17 awwww that's cute *turns on mitski while crying*

-> user18 i feel like that too

@niallhoran

liked by y/n_malik, zayn, louist91, lando and 5.492.956 others

niallhoran finally met my little sister's boyfriend

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y/n_malik nialler, he's not my boyfriend

-> lando i'm not?

-> user1 EXCUSE ME WHAT-

user2 okay if they're not dating by now, i'd actually be shocked

liampayne tell her i said hi ❤️ ♥︎ by author

-> y/n_malik HIIIII PAYNOOOOOO

-> liampayne hi y/nnnnnn!!!!!!

-> user3 THIS IS SO CUTEEEEE

user4 lando's dating a painting?

user5 y/n, i promise whatever lando's offering you, i can give you more

-> user6 y/n give us a chance (or should i say chonce?)

tatemcrae PAUSE... did you get a boyfriend and not tell me?

-> y/n_malik check whatsapp girlyyyyyy

user7 chat we've lost her

user8 i literally have no one to talk to this about and i'm about to crash out

-> user9 join the twt side of this fandom and you'll have loads of people

tatemcrae you're a literal goddess y/n

-> y/n_malik and you're the love of my life

-> lando are you sure you're not forgetting someone???

-> user10 lando's out here fighting for his life lol

user11 me and who?

carlossainz55 you two sicken me

-> y/n_malik your hairline sickens me

-> carlossainz55 @lando dump her

-> lando never

-> user12 HOLD ON. IS THIS A COMFIRMATION THAT THEY'RE DATING????

user13 OH?????

@y/n_malik

liked by lando, liampayne, zayn, alexandrasaintmleux and 7.284.926 others

y/n_malik you are the best thing that's ever been mine

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lando and you're the love of my life ♥︎ by author

-> y/n_malik i love you, my love ❤️

-> lando i love you, baby 🥰 ♥︎ by author

user1 okay so that's lando.

user2 THE. MATCHING. PANTS.

-> user3 YESSSSS I'M GONNA DIEEEE

user4 okay but the pants are so pretty???? ♥︎ by author

user5 so obsessed with you guys

-> user6 best relationship fr

user7 hey siri play say less 🎧 ♥︎ by author

user8 say less is their anthem now

-> user9 yup that is THEIR song now

user10 please never break up

user11 if i was him, i would've written a song about her too

-> user12 real we can't exactly blame him yk

-> user13 i mean just look at her

user14 🥰🥰🥰

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A/N: hope u enjoyed ahhhhh!! i wrote this at 2 am so please excuse me if there are spelling mistakes lmao. also feel free to request because i need ideasssss <3333

tags!

@freyathehuntress

[afalconfromalcyoneus]

"sei que vou perder um grande amor e um bom amigo." — eu sem você by lilian

"I know I'll lose a great brother and a good friend"

***note: "grande amor" in the og lyrics means "great love", but I changed it to fit better w/ Ashfur and Ferncloud <3

Extra below to hear my yapping ↓

OK. I've been seeing this trend recently using this song (Em Sem Você). It's a Portuguese song that I'm like 99% sure has to do with a break up and how you handle that & not knowing how you'll act/be like when you're out of the relationship. HOWEVER. I also saw this song used with Squrrielflight & Leafpool, so I was like "oh my God this song is Ivypool & Dovewing" but then, a greater idea floated in my head...."This is Ashfur and Ferncloud." They're my favorite characters OKAY leave me alone 😭.

Anyway. I think some of the lyrics represent them pretty well. Mostly with my own versions of them bc, as usual, my imagination is bigger than what the actual series gives us.

I'm just giving the English translations here bc that's easier:

"You're going away with my dreams

You'll forget me, you'll forget me

I know I'll lose a true love and a good friend

I'm wondering what I'll become

Without you, without you"

Under my interpretation of course. This is about how, after Ashfur died (aka was murdered by Hollyleaf) a part of Ferncloud died. Even after she learned about how much of a GIANT incel he was, she feels deeply upset by his lose. She wonders how she'll live without her twin brother (that's also a thing I hc btw,,) or who she'll become. Will she be different? It feels like a hole is missing from her soul.

She's afraid that up in Starclan, Ashfur will forget her. Maybe she even suspects she wasn't that important to Ashfur at all, due to his actions he committed in life that she learned about.

"Will he forget I ever existed? Will my face in his mind disappear into the winds of Starclan? Because was I really that important to him?"

(skipping a few lyrics)

"This night, I've barely slept thinking about

How happy we were and what I'll become

Without you"

Ferncloud can't sleep days, week, months after Ashfur was murdered. Although she's a Perma Queen, Ashfur would sleep next to her still (mostly so he could get away from Squrrielflight in the Warriors den, this is also headcanon btw this didn't happen canonically). Ferncloud didn't fully see how unhappy Ashfur was in life, she was happy but he wasn't. She's become so depressed and lonely, even if she has friends, without her twin.

"I know there's no point in even thinking about what happened

It's not going to be easy because I know I'll suffer

Without you"

Everyone knows Ashfur got murdered at this point, especially they know it was Hollyleaf because she spilled it out during a Gathering (I'm pretty sure?). Ferncloud doesn't want to think about "what happened" (Ashfur's murder, plus Hollyleaf's outburst and death as well as confessing to murdering Ashfur). She's angry at Hollyleaf, but since Hollyleaf is (presumably) dead she has nobody but herself to direct that anger towards. At the same time she thinks about the cats he hurt, Squrrielflight, Lionblaze, Jayfeather, Hollyleaf, maybe even other cats...she cannot stay truly mad at Hollyleaf. But she can stay mad at herself.

There's no point in thinking about what happened because she doesn't even want to think about it. She's suffering without Ashfur next to her...but he hurt so many cats and she feels that guilt of wishing he was still alive.

Ok bye.

[dulcecherub]

popstar!reader x ex boyfriend!rafe where she goes on her first tour and hes in the crowd!? (i dont mind where you take this)

- 🎀🥰

Aaaa!! I’m so glad you asked, this is my favorite topic. Lowkey was writing something like this already but this will just be a different version to it. Sorry this took so long, I had a lot going on. I work a lot so it’s hard for me to make time sometimes. Plus I didn’t know what direction to take this. So sorry if it’s butt cheeks. Also I’m using Sabrina’s music cause I love her 🤭 another note, this doesn’t follow the description I made for girly!popstar reader because this came first. So this is yours anon.

Border: @chilumitos

The anticipation was turning your stomach inside out. You were in your fifth city and should have been accustomed to touring by now. But still, this was different. You were back in Kildare, the fresh ocean air hitting your face, as you stared out into the crowd. You were hidden behind curtains. The nerves were rushing through you.

“It’s been a while, huh?”Mike,one of the boys who danced with you asked, you simply nodded your head. It’d been too long actually. You’d made sure that you played in your hometown. Hoping that it would be enough for one blue eyed boy to come out and see you. But you weren’t sure, the music you made didn’t seem like something he would be into.

“Too long.”

This tour so far was taking a lot out of you. You hadn’t anticipated how much of a demand you became. You’d sold out almost every show that you had listed. It was crazy and the magnitude of it, still couldn’t conclude in your brain.

“Congratulations girl. Seems like you brought out a big crowd. You must have been popular.”

Which was further than the truth, but you laughed at his joke anyway.

“You go up in five!” Ricky, one of the tour managers says. “Get into position people!”

“You ready?”

You nodded, the crowd is loud, unexpectedly. You hadn’t known how many people were going to be here. Your heart was racing, but this was your favorite part.

You waited until it was your cue…

Wheezie had been persistent. She’d been there since the beginning of your journey; quite literally. So she had wanted to come out to one of your shows. She’d asked Ward and Rose, they shared worried glances over at Rafe.

“It’s fine.. it’s not like you’re asking me to go.” Rafe says, but Wheezie has a look on her face that says otherwise.

“Why? She’s my ex girlfriend. That’s weird.” Rafe said but deep down he knew he wanted to go. His heart still beat for you, he just didn’t want to admit to that. He would look soft and he hated looking soft.

“I still have hope for the two of you.” Wheeze admits. Rafe rolls eyes but his heart flutters.

“Hope is for suckers.”

She managed to make him come to your show. A big grin on her face, Sarah managed to weasel her way into seeing you as well. The Cameron siblings never got along well. Wheezie getting along separately which each of them. But somehow you managed to bring them all together.

“Introducing.. the one and only.. Y/N L/N.” You ran out on stage, a cute little smile on your face. Rafes heart leaped as he saw you. He couldn’t believe he was seeing you living your dream.

“Oh I leave quite an impression..”

Your eyes spotted Rafe, halfway through the song. Your heart raced, you hadn’t expected this to happen. Never believed in a million years, you would see those bright blue eyes again. You noticed Wheezie and Sarah in the crowd with him. Your heart swelled even more.

The song finishes, your heart racing as you run of to the other side of the stage. You felt awkwardness trying to built a home in you. But you shook it off with a head shake. The next song was one that you made about him. When you were angry and you weren’t sure how he’d take it.

“I won’t give a fuck about you.”

The song began and you had to start singing once more. You were getting the audience pumped up and you could spot Wheezie and Sarah dancing. Rafe had his arms crossed, his jaw ticking. Great.

“I won’t give a fuck about you!” You sang into the mic then turning it to the crowd. They repeated the words as you did so. You spot Sarah singing it into Rafes face and he rolls his eyes. A giggle you can’t hear over the crowd escapes her lips. Wheezie is smiling up at you and you smile back.

“My cute ass bye bye!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you danced along to your music. Thankfully, it looked like it was apart of the show.—What were the odds, Rafe was here, Wheezie and Sarah made sense. But you don’t know how they managed to drag Rafe along with them. You continue on anyway, you had a show to put on. And you were surprised how amp up everyone was. How many of them knew the lyrics to your song.

This felt so surreal, like you couldn’t believe people here still kept up to date with you.

Rafe had always known you were someone meant for a life bigger than you. So this was no surprise, it stung to know that he was inches away from you. But unable to hold you, kiss you, to be with you. You were finally at your final three songs.

He could tell Wheezie and Sarah were having fun. He hated that he was the sore thumb in the situation. His arms were crossed, not because he didn’t want to be here. But because this wasn’t how he expected things to have gone between the two of you. Things had fallen apart so badly and he didn’t think it was irreversible. He had let things hang in the air like it didn’t matter. When it did.

“You know she’s here for a couple of more days until she leaves again..” Sarah says, her eyes still on you, Rafe slowly turns to her.

“How do you know that?”

Sarah only smiles looking up at him.

You had stopped by one of the local coffee shops the next day, tired from night 1 out of the three shows you were going to do at Kildare. You tapped your fingers gently on the table, your eyes staring at the door. Waiting for someone…

Rafe stepped through the threshold, his eyes immediately going to you. Maybe, sometimes relationships can be rekindled.

“Hi…

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi, can I be called anon 🐍? (reference to Jamil being my favorite character) Now that the dorm songs are out in full version, what is your ranking of them? Personally, my favorite is Diasomnia's, I'm completely obsessed with Malleus' voice in the chorus, it feels like I've ascended. And the one that would be in last place would be Ignihyde's, it's not that I didn't like it, but among the others it's my least favorite.

[My original rankings based on the short in-game Rhythmics/Twistunes segments!]

To the first ask: Sure, 🐍 Anon it is ^^

I ranked the songs differently based on three different categories: how the song sounds to my ear, how much I like the lyrics, and how much I enjoyed the MV that came with the song. The category actually changes my opinion quite a lot in some cases!

Ranking (based on how the song sounds):

Savanaclaw's DIADEM - All the characters' vocals sound very different yet somehow when they overlap... they sound really cool! The chorus + the ending "whoa-oh-oh-oh" parts in particular are super catchy; I find myself randomly humming them throughout the day. I definitely get the sense that Jack and Ruggie are the less experienced singers, but that ironically fits both of their characters; it feels like they're underdogs trying their best to beat impossible odds... that they're here anyway to try just to support their dorm leader (whose VA is for sure the most experienced singer of the group). Leona sounds NOTHING like himself when he sings (which is fair, because it would be super hard to keep that deepness while singing) so :)) I can dissociate and lie to myself tell myself that I'm not stanning his song. By the way, massive shoutout to Jack's VA 😭 He apparently tried so hard to sing deep for this song that it caused vocal strain and bleeding 💦

Scarabia's Far-Out - A lot is happening in this song, but I feel they all work well together. Jamil and Kalim's voices surprisingly harmonize amazingly and create a hypnotic melody despite how upbeat the actual music is. Another song where the chorus is very strong... Love the "La-la i-ya la-la i-ya ha" parts. It feels like everything is in constant motion (even when there are parts with no vocals) and I want to move along with them!

Ignihyde's Unparalleled Aeons - An almost metronome-like melody. Sounds like something you can really groove to. Chorus is great; I love the way certain words like "Cerberus", "Happy End", "Fever", "The End", etc. are uttered and how the chorus builds up to a soft (not loud) "Welcome to the Underworld".

Heartslabyul's Obedience - Instrumental is hype (it's probably the drums)!! Riddle is clearly the star here; the other vocals sort of blend together or sound alike to me (except for maybe Ace, only because his VA sings so sassily). Pretty much the only part that plays on repeat is the chorus.

Octavinelle's Entanglement - I appreciate the piano and brass but... SORRY, I JUST GENERALLY DON'T LIKE JAZZ. If it was just the instrumental, it would be fine but I don't like this genre with vocals. I like that Jade is very prominent in this song, but then that creates an issue where he and Azul are so much stronger here than Floyd is. In some parts, I feel like Floyd is almost completely drowned out by the music.

Pomefiore's La Volonté - I feel the singing starts up really abruptly??? Best parts of the song are the solos. When the Pomefiore boys' voices combine, they sound a little too harsh to my ears. Not sure if I like how their words are pulled out/extended in the chorus either. Songs ends on a good note (the "La-la-la-la-la").

Diasomnia's Capricious Calamity - Similar to Heartslabyul's Obedience, the dorm leader is the star of the show and has the most prominent voice. You can really feel Malleus's VA (I believe he has formal opera training) showing off his chops. I really liked Silver and Sebek's solo parts. However, I just don't like the overall vibes of this song. The haunting chanting in the background, the strong reverb, the grim instrumental, the dark tone of the singing... It's all a bit too much. I personally prefer more energetic songs, not ones that remind me of a cult initiation ceremony.

Ranking (based on the lyrics):

Scarabia's Far-Out - Holy... where do I even begin??? These are by far the most descriptive and lush lyrics of the bunch. They come out strong in the beginning talking about how the rays of the sun sting, how particles of scalding sands hit their skin, temptation in lotus flowers, the intoxicating feeling of thirst, etc. At one point, they also list off key characters from the film (the sultan, royal vizier, thief/street rat, princess, genie, monkey). AND THEN IN COMES THE CHORUS talking about an endless oasis, riches that never dry up, the "golden darkness"???? HELLO???????

Diasomnia's Capricious Calamity - Also extremely poetic, but in a more ominous way than Scarabia's song. A pure black starless night, ravishing green light, a sky the color of shadow, spreading thorns, a deep slumber, an aurora swallowed... Sooo many good phrases here, I felt like I was listening to a group of bards telling an ancient folktale. Bonus points to this song for using language so archaic that even native Japanese speakers struggled to understand what the heck was even being sung.

Pomefiore's La Volonté - Surprisingly less detailed lyrics than Scarabia and Diasomnia, but they still have a few notable phrases like "waltzing upon the white snow", the worth of a star, a heart hidden in a box, and, of course, the iconic apple dripping with poison. Not as much a fan of the parts where the singer is centered and they express their personal goals.

Ignihyde's Unparalleled Aeons - This is the song I jokingly call "shittalking central" because I swear that half the lyrics or more is just angry gamer internet lingo. Even with all the taunting, I think there's a charm to the lyrics. I especially love how they make constant references to Greek mythology, especially the Fates (they mention past, present, and future, as well as cutting threads).

Octavinelle's Entanglement - Sometimes these feel less like lyrics and more like Azul and the Tweels giving you explicit directions to just sign the darn contract already sometimes. Some lines are literally just them threatening you about the consequences if you break the terms of the agreement. I do like the poetic parts (where they sing about the heart swaying left and right + the future dissipating into seafoam) though.

Heartslabyul's Obedience - Most of the lyrics are just the characters reciting rules, talking about tasks they have to do, or how they can't step out of line or break rules. There’s some strange fragments too???? Like the part where Ace sings about lemonade that’s not sweetened with honey but then never continues to complete the rule; he just states LEMONADE WITHOUT HONEY and nothing else 😭 My guy, that is NOT a real statement???The chorus is the most memorable part, as it focuses on the beauty of roses that have been painted red. Not much character in the rest of the lyrics.

Savanaclaw's DIADEM - This song is mostly about the actions the group will take to reach the top and less about pretty descriptions. While I think that this matches the spirit of their dorm and the characters themselves, I'm not personally a fan of these kind of lyrics.

Ranking (based on MVs' visuals and effects):

Scarabia's Far-Out - Maybe not the best MV for those that get motion sickness easily because WOW, there is constant movement here, even if it is very slight (clouds moving in the background, flower petals scattering, flag flapping, ornate patterns spinning, silhouettes panning, letters flying, etc.). I loved it though! There was also so much opulence in this MV??? Golden snake scepter, golden coins, golden magic lamp, golden sunshine, golden sand, golden scarabs, golden hourglass... All incorporated so well and timed perfectly with the lyrics. So many film references too?? I spotted Iago's feather, the big red gem that Abu touched in the Cave of Wonders, and so many more. I think the best part was that Kalim and Jamil were framed so perfectly, particularly the shots where Jamil was positioned behind Kalim (Jamil in the dark, Kalim in the light) WITH THEIR EYES GLOWING RED, alluding to how Jamil controlled Kalim with Snake Whisper/Charmer from the shadows. This is PEAK MV.

Octavinelle's Entanglement - This one was just really elegant! The solo parts' backgrounds remind me of a fancy hotel or a well-organized scrapbook. The bubbles + underwater effect with fish swimming over the Octa boys was so cool. Like Scarabia's MV, this one had many references to their film, such as Azul being bathed in green while the sun sets in the background (illustrating the conditions for Ursula's deal with Ariel), the fireworks in the sky (like the ones going off when Ariel saw Eric for the first time), King Triton's crown and trident sinking into the depths, the iconic golden contracts, the ingredient bottles (Ursula's), the cauldron and fish skeleton pen (also Ursula's)... Azul's vault (the steering wheel of a ship) also features. So many details! This is another MV where the flowing eyes make sense; the twins' golden eyes glow in the dark, and both of Azul's do as well (since he also lives deep in the waters). It creates a neat and symmetrical look when they pose together.

Diasomnia's Capricious Calamity - One word: ATMOSPHERE. This MV has tons of it. The way the camera pulls in and out of a tangle of tree branches and briar makes you feel like you're adventuring into a decrepit castle. There's many interesting things done with light and shadows to grant an excellent illusion of depth. Definitely gives an intimidating vibe when the moon drowns out everything but the Diasomnia boys' eyes. The green light from above makes me feel like some otherworldly eldritch being is descending. The best part of the MV is the middle which shows the same green light Maleficent used to lure Aurora to a spinning wheel. Again, very atmospheric and this is further enhanced by the choir in the background building up to the sinister shine of the spindle. I feel like I'm watching a horror story or a gothic fairy tale unfold.

Savanaclaw's DIADEM - This one has a really unique look to it! The ripped paper effect and the way the graphics fall into place kind of gives it the look of a grungy collage. I love how the Savanaclaw boys are often backlit by the sun; it makes them look really imposing and cool! There's fewer film references here (the moon _ hyena march from Be Prepared, Pride Rock) but it works just fine. I appreciate the focus on nature here, there's a lot of shots of real-life animals or just the savanna setting. I will say that the giraffes made me laugh because they seemed like an odd choice to include??? It's an herbivore moving slowly through the frame, it feels out of place in a rock song. Another part that I didn't necessarily love was when the camera zoomed in on each of the Savanaclaw boys' faces... It was so fast that I thought that they were going to smack into an invisible wall or something.

Pomefiore's La Volonté - This has a lot of imagery I expected of Pomefiore--painting frames, mirrors, apples, poison bottles, etc. Oddly feels very minimalistic and not too showy compared to the other MVs. I think this works well for what it seems to be conveying (how lonely it is at the top, indicated by the spotlights for the solo parts). The multitude of hands reaching for the single star is a very strong visual. Snow effect was so subtle I would not have known it was snow, had the lyrics not clued me in on it. Vulture was a strange choice to include; I feel it should have been a raven or crow instead since that’s more iconic. The best parts (mirror cracking, pages in potion book turning, curtains closing shut) were scarcely used and I wished they were scattered more throughout the MV instead of clustered in one spot.

Ignihyde's Unparalleled Aeons - This felt like an Ignihyde MV and not an Ignihyde and Hercules MV, unlike the MVs that ranked higher than this. I like the shift from blue to red lights + flames in some parts to indicate seriousness or danger, but most everything else felt like excessive neon lighting like what you’d see in a crowd armed with glowsticks at a concert. The gate to the Underworld opening and the pool of souls was cool but the other key visuals (S.T.Y.X. logo, turning gears, cutting a thread of life, etc.) felt like they were hurriedly pasted into the background to remind us this is, in fact, not just another Vocaloid hit—remember the Shrouds are here too. Visuals (especially the artwork of Idia and Ortho) felt weirdly static.

Heartslabyul's Obedience - As an avid Alice in Wonderland lover, I have to say that I'm disappointed at how generic the Heartslabyul MV was. It didn't look bad or anything?? I was just expecting a lot more than the generic AiW motifs (checkerboard pattern, card suits, raining cards, table for tea, etc.). This one especially stands out (in a bad way) to me because the other MVs made an effort to make the visuals unique to the identity of the dorm (like the S.T.Y.X. symbol in Ignihyde's) or make reference to their respective film, but this one did not.

[infinizero]

Ok so

There is this trope about ghosts not reaching maturity until they've been ghosts for several centuries

There is ALSO the trope that ghosts fight as a sort of way to communicate

With the power of these two tropes combined-- I give you this strange headcanon:

Ghosts become mature adult ghosts after 500 years.

Danny and his usual troublemakers are all in the same "daycare".

He's just the youngest + most unique ghost so they like playing around with him the most. In other words, it's the ghost version of older siblings ordering their younger siblings around

As far as ghosts go,

There are blobs, ghost animals, shades (those are ghosts as we know it) and ghosts (aka Infinite Realms Beings) etc etc

The blobs and etc are, well, blobs and etc

But ghosts need a while to fully grow up and be considered adult

And so, if these ghosts are children, they need guardians or caretakers at the daycare right?

Correct

Baby ghosts are under the care of the nearest authority (Ancient or Leader or etc etc)

Except baby ghosts usually stay near where they were born and Danny and Co just so happen to be near Pariah Dark

Pariah Dark is asleep

But Fright Knight is there!

Except Fright Knight is also sealed

And it's one thing to wake up the ultra powerful megalomaniac tyrant kinda parent figure but not really you're supposed to have and another to drag your oldest adult sibling out of their room to touch grass

In other words, the surrounding authorities just went eh the babies can contact fright Knight if anything happens

But then Danny defeats Pariah and inherits his authority

So he technically becomes the caretaker of baby ghosts in the area while being the youngest baby ghost himself

Hence the other ancients visiting and *playing* with him to see if it's ok to leave the babies with this other baby

And since they're ghosts who don't have human guidelines or morals, decide that since he's that strong it should be fine to leave it alone

Besides he has Fright Knight! Good 'ol Frighty will definitely help out this new baby kid ghost with doing everything!

Meanwhile, Fright Knight waiting for Danny to come claim the crown and ring: ...

Cue Danny's rogues coming up to him to show him shit they accomplished

Youngblood : Phantom look at this cool baking soda volcano that spews out real lava!!

Danny: It does WHAT

Youngblood: Look!

Danny: NO

Ember: Hey Babybop wanna listen to the new song I wrote? It compels humans to start cults based on my name!

Danny: Ember, no

Ember: I think you mean Ember YES

Skulker: Ghost boy I have skinned an alien and brought you a pelt turned into a coat

Danny: ...you did WHAt

Skulker: It is nearing winter time and one must always be ready for winter time

Danny, having an existential meltdown after seeing his parents and Vlad get it on together: Desiree what the actual fuck??? Did you do????

Desiree: I merely fulfilled a wish

Johnny: Hey Phantom look we got matching tattoos to celebrate our anniversary!

Kitty: Wait what did you just say?

Johnny: uh, we got tattoos for our anniversary?

Kitty: ...our anniversary is in TWO MONTHS. THAT was for my DEATHDAY.

Johnny: ...oh shit

Danny, about to soup them both: Man, get good

Lunch Lady: Phantom have you eaten your proteins today?!

Danny: uh... Yeah?

Lunch Lady, already throwing meat at him: EAT MORE

Danny:

Box ghost: WITNESS! THE GREAT BOX MECHA!

Danny: oh come on seriously

And on the other hand,

Walker, dumping ten piles of paper in Danny's room: Phantom, here are the latest forms that need revisions

Spectra: What do you MEAN you're not allowing me to open a beauty salon in order to dig into other girls' insecurities and maintain my own beauty?! That's why it's called a beauty salon!!

Cujo and Wulf who are both the best boys and favorites, with smug faces:

Fright Knight still waiting for Danny to accept the ring and crown:

Plasmius: What the heck is this weird feeling my ghost side keeps making me feel??

Plasmius: is it... Is there perhaps a ghostly way I can adopt the little badger??

[aiscapades]

thinking out loud abt recent discussions in the touchstarved/obscura fandoms :) literally just my own personal opinion !!!!!

i can't stop thinking abt cirrus bc he's honestly what i want so badly for the touchstarved LIs. it's what i wanted for count lucio.

i was reading y'all's opinions abt the touchstarved marketing and your concerns abt how the game is gonna turn out, and while i was understanding, i also was so confused abt .. where this sudden concern was coming from. and then i played obscura and i was like oh! i didn't know a game could be like this! i didn't know a demo could be like this! i had entirely different reactions to the obscura demo than i did the touchstarved demo

—and yeah that's comparing two totally different games, different studios, different projects. the touchstarved demo served to introduce the characters and the world and it did that wonderfully. it's satisfactory. it's not that they did anything wrong?? but i cannot deny they gave me two insanely different reactions. i was YELLING when cirrus was doing his shit. it was like what i imagine watching trashy reality tv is like. or like watching one of those poorly-made TV movies and just enjoying the ride. i was hollering and jumping out of my chair and GAWKING at the screen. like cirrus was real and he was really saying this insane shit and i was SO ON BOARD and selecting every insane option the game gave me. it was just so wild. and it was so, so fun.

so i thought abt it more and i was like yeah. i actually see where this concern is coming from. rss keeps their stuff so close to their chest that it's hard to tell what routes they're taking, how they're dealing with certain issues, how deep the character arcs go, etc. i have no idea how fucked up their version of monstrosity gets, and for a game that is ENTIRELY about monsters and monstrosity, that definitely gives me pause. we don't know anything. they drop hints and we guess and theorize, but we don't know anything. we know leander is fucked up. we know they're all fucked up. in what way? who knows. does mhin murder people as a giant crow beast every night? we don't definitively know. we kinda assume that based on lore drops, but we don't know. but then other studios are doing semi-regular q&as and dropping information into the laps of their fans on a daily basis (lost in limbo??? hello? every day i get a notif that they've told us something new, either abt ALL the characters or about the world). idk how early obscura devs have been answering questions but they're also doing something similar. but for rss you can send in questions and you're probably never gonna hear back. you can't just ask them what song the m5 LIs would sing on karaoke night and get a response 🧍🏼 they don't do that. which isn't to say it's WRONG of them—i'm not saying they're being bad game devs by any means—but it's definitely a different way to handle game development compared to these other studios we follow.

that lack of fan involvement and information sharing is where the concern comes from, i think. at least on my part!

i mentioned count lucio earlier and i want to elaborate why. firstly, he's my favorite character of all time. i've been writing a fanfic for him for 2 years, and it's nearly 200k words (i'm taking a break from it rn). like i love lucio as a character so, so deeply. is it because of the arcana game? no, actually. it's because of the POTENTIAL his character has. it's because of what the FANS have pulled from him and shaped him into.

the arcana was on the app store. it had such strict rules about what it could and couldn't be. and yeah i can rant about how dumb nix hydra is for taking the mico-transaction phone app route, but my point in all of it is that the devs failed lucio. i think they fumbled a lot, with the other characters as well, but lucio was their watch mojo top 10 biggest anime fails of all time #1 spot.

his bad ending shows him as the new DEVIL and dictator of the world??? and we got to see none of that. his whole route woobified him to pieces. he's just a lil meow meow. he's Baby. he didn't know better. he just made some Oopsies 👉🏻👈🏻 uh oh!!

like he was the main VILLAIN of the story and they turned him into a manchild. the wasted potential of this guy is insane. and i guess i saw that and thought "i can make this motherfucker so much worse" and i did that and will continue to do that. so have his other fans. people have rewritten his route altogether because it was so unsatisfactory.

there's overlap from the arcana in the rss dev team. do i think touchstarved will be the new arcana? nope!!!! but am i also worried they'll play it safe because they think the fanbase wants conventionally loveable love interests? yeah. i absolutely see the concern. it's very real and very there. does red spring studio KNOW we want truly monstrous characters? do they? we're just hoping they do.

leander doesn't have to be just like cirrus. none of them have to be anything. but i do want them to be monstrous. i want to FEEL something the same way i feel something when cirrus orders me onto my knees. like not even in a kinky sexual way. i want to be shocked. i want to hesitate and think "what is this character doing right now? what will i do right now?" i want to be confused and shocked and pleasantly surprised and also horrified. i want the adrenaline high i got while playing cirrus's first chapter. it was like my cptsd was triggered in the best possible way (lmao).

and it's not even about that.

lost in limbo is more fantasy romance than it is horror (save for the goddamn voidbound holy fuck!) but i know that i'll enjoy the game anyhow because i love all the characters. why do i love all the characters? because the devs tell us about them. they don't even have to spoil the game. i know amon smells like chocolate and has a fake southern accent (HELLO?) and that ara can't sing. lost in limbo could be the corniest fucking game and i would still love it because i'm already so attached to the characters.

the reason i turned to lost in limbo and obscura is because my excitement for touchstarved waned. because there's just a once in a blue moon post and it's likely it'll just be a "backers have new updates!" post. which isn't said to shame rss or backers !!!! that's normal and fine and valid!!!! do that!!!! i just mean rss is BARELY giving us what we want. we're stranded in the desert dying and rss is trickling water droplets one by one to each of us. lost in limbo devs are pissing fresh spring water into our mouths at firehose speed. is rss bad for this? no. they're not doing anything wrong. but a natural consequence of their marketing strategy is that fans will move on. i still love touchstarved. i'm going to play it. i'm reblogging fanart and fanfics. i'm posing the mormon leander theory. like i'm still here and still very much active but touchstarved isn't on my mind the way lost in limbo & obscura are.

ravenstar games tells me gael would fail the trial in the tale of orpheus and eurydice and i'm like holy fuck??? holy fuck!!!!!!

would ais? would mhin? i don't fucking know.

and what about elyon and sen? i know they're DLC bonus LIs and they don't need to be fleshed-out as soon as the main LIs. they can be on the back burner until touchstarved comes out. this is fair. but what about them? we know nothing other than 1. elyon is rich because of brothel money and 2. sen is an undead warden? (like a prison guard? like the ppl who watch over vere? i don't even know that for sure) (we also know their flowers but that's barely anything). meanwhile lost in limbo is sharing info about cécile and lázaro as often as their main love interests. they're not forgotten about. i can't even make a mc for sen's route because i know nothing about her!!!!!! which hurts my heart because i love sen. i love the idea of sen. it's the first time a female love interest in one of these games is 1. my type but also 2. not exactly like me (ara i love you but we are twins).

they're impersonal. they are 2D concepts we try to fill out.

maybe rss will tell us the LIs go-to karaoke song after the game releases. or maybe they won't. but there are just so many benefits to sharing that kinda thing and bonding with your fans in that way. that's my whole point. it's not "i need a steady stream of touchstarved content pumped directly into my veins 24/7 or i lose all interest" it's not that!!!!! obviously not because rss doesn't do that and i'm still here. this is my most active blog! i'm having a blast here because the fandom is sick as hell. we're vibing, doing our own thing, and it's great. but rss feels very distant. they are the senobium and we are residents of lowtown wondering when or if things will ever be different. if we're going to have a good day (lore drop or new art) or if things will just continue on as expected.

to reiterate: this post isn't about how rss is doing something wrong or bad or that ravenstar games/rotten raccoons are sososososo much better than rss. rss doesn't have to do everything other studios are doing. that's not what i'm saying. this is just the reality of what rss is doing vs other devs and how i PERSONALLY feel about it. i love them i would literally strap a bomb to my chest and demand my loved ones' credit card info to disarm it for any of these studios/games. i am a fan and i'm hopeful and i want to trust in rss so so so so badly. i want the very best for them. i want them to create a great game and be successful. i want them to be creatively fulfilled and proud of their game. on their own time, their own way. really and truly!

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #2: NOT QUITE THERE

(also on spotify!)

b-b-back once again

Round two of the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Yesterday was track one, Dyad - today is track two, Not Quite There, featuring the incomparable telebasher!

This one's a bit of a dark horse relative to the rest of the album, but it may very well be my personal favorite song on the entire thing so dammit let's Yap

---

For the uninitiated, this song pulls heavily from a song off my previous album called Gummyworm, both in vibe and by very directly quoting its synth motif.

Both of these songs deal with two sides of the same emotional coin. I actually don't want to go into too much detail about it - I feel like the lyrics spell things out clearly enough - but I will say this:

When it's all you know, it's easy to believe that a love that isolates you, a love that doesn't respect you, a love that hurts is better than no love at all.

You deserve better. There are always people who genuinely want what's best for you, who want you to feel truly loved. It certainly isn't always easy - it's genuinely good if your interpersonal relationships have a little friction sometimes - but love should make your life brighter.

You deserve a love that's fair.

---

The original version of this song was actually intended to be on Bittersweet alongside Gummyworm. The original concept for that album had a whole heady concept involving duality, songs reflecting each other, the two halves basically being reprisals of each other... Ultimately, I'm glad I scrapped that idea, because it was waaaaaay too much for me to manage after a couple years of barely making music. Maybe I'll revisit it someday though?

The drums on this song are sampled from an Instagram post by Louis Cole, where he's doing this crazy one-handed hi-hat blast by holding a drumstick sideways. I'm a drummer and that shit genuinely scares me a little like i dont know how he does half the things he does its fucked BUT. I bring this up because he's one of my biggest inspirations as a musician! I'm really big on jazz in general, in case my love for spicy chords wasn't enough of an indication, but his specific brand of freaky hyperactive bullshit just does it for me.

Seriously, go watch his band KNOWER play their song Overtime. Absolutely insane performances across the board. also Clown Core

This whole song is really just my attempt at matching some of that hectic jazzy energy with my own style of music, so I figured it only made sense to make it another collab with another musician making delightfully frantic jazz bullshit - the legend herself, telebasher! I really am such a massive fan of her work, and I struggle to think of anyone who plays guitar quite like she does. We previously worked together on another Bittersweet track, Asemic Speech, and her guitar work is a major reason why that song is still one of my favorite I've ever released!! She's just built different like listen to this oh my god!!!!

Lastly, since this song was one of the first written for this entire project... it is admittedly a case of me shoehorning the album's leitmotif in after the fact. It's a little forced when it shows up in the backing vocals! But, the choir of vocal synths during the guitar solo served an additional purpose - my own voice doesn't show up on the album again for another four entire songs, and this would've otherwise been the only song on the entire album that didn't feature any vocal synths. Thus did I attempt to bridge the gap, as it were. Hopefully it makes the final product feel more natural!!

Either way, that's all for today's post.... i think.... which means that tomorrow.... we're gonna rot.... for clout

[pastorfutureletthembe]

Unpopular opinion probably, but everyone is set on vidding and animating this song in Lu Guang's POV.

And it's very popular:

X X X X X

But to me, Penelope's part would be Cheng Xiaoshi's pov, actually.

I mean, I get why the lyrics echo Lu Guang's feelings. Oh, I do. But also, Odysseus is the one who went through decades of longing and pain and loneliness and betrayal, with only reason to keep living the hope to see his (dead) wife once more. He left worlds and pieces of himself behind.

He isn't the same man. Cheng Xiaoshi... Is. He'll always be who he is because Lu Guang is the only one with a future, but the only future he accepts is his past life with his best friend.

He would go through billions of repeats if there is one chance of growing old with the man he loves.

Odysseus' theme is "Just A Man". And it is and will forever be my favorite song of all Epic the Musical.

Going through the Yingdu Chapter through Lu Guang's prism feels familiar and foreign. We know who Lu Guang is but not who he was. We have no idea what he went through.

An other unpopular trope in this fandom is that all these repeats somehow made Lu Guang lose his humanity, his compassion and his morals. He would become more and more selfish, blinded with his wish, making difficult choices and leaving people behind. Qiao Ling. With a godlike power, he would still be profoundly human. Doing whatever it takes to save Cheng Xiaoshi. Going back to the start to live in peace with Qiao Ling and Cheng Xiaoshi, unable to move on.

Why doesn't he say anything to Cheng Xiaoshi? Why does it try so hard to follow the script? Who is he protecting in the end? I would actually love to see Lu Guang do something unforgivable in order to save Cheng Xiaoshi.

In another meta, I mentioned Cheng Xiaoshi would be kind of pissed at Lu Guang for his hypocrisy. But no matter how pissed he would be, he would move mountains to help him come back from the dive back in time. Cheng Xiaoshi would never allow Lu Guang to sacrifice himself or his own happiness for him. He wouldn't let him erase himself from reality, from their story.

I do think Future Cheng Xiaoshi is diving in Yingdu, at the very beginning, because he won't let Lu Guang go. He keeps holding his hand. Again and again and again and he pulls him in right before Lu Guang gives up and gets sucked into self-sacrifice.

And I cannot wait for the reveal.

People asked me before what I thought would be Cheng Xiaoshi's reaction to learning the truth. I still don't know how to answer that, to be honest. Actually, I don't think it is relevant. I don't think Lu Guang would admit what happened, what is happening. Cheng Xiaoshi would realize what kind of horrors his best friend went through only when there would be no going back...

And after that?

He would get him back.

This part is exactly what I imagine the end of Link Click to be:

And whatever was said and done, who cares if billions of versions of their stories have been written? The core of them is the same.

Also. Penelope's game of asking her husband to move an unmovable bed just to prove a point is soooo Cheng Xiaoshi.

Anyway.

I hope someone will make an edit with the reverse possibility.