#Snowy Path game

[totic]

dude im so excited for the anime releasing you have no idea

[fogaminghub]

✨ Ready for a frosty adventure? Join Jessica and Mike at the Upper Cable Car Station where a playful snowball fight awaits! 🎮💖 Make choices that shape their relationship as you determine whether to hit that bird or aim for Mike instead! Check out the full breakdown in our latest blog post! ❄️☃️

[captain-silvera]

Snow Fairy Tale

50x50 lot DOWNLOAD

Welcome to the Snow Fairytale! Exciting adventures and a festive mood await you in this magical corner of winter. Stroll along snowy paths, enjoy the bright lights and warm atmosphere. Here you will find cozy tables, areas for winter games and interactive zones where you can take a photo and find your favorite winter characters. Don't miss the creative workshops and delicious treats that will give unforgettable moments to all visitors! Created for TheSimsLab

Don’t forget ‘bb.moveobjects on’ cheat to place the lot correctly!

TOU: don’t reupload or claim as yours!

if you end up using my builds, tag me or @ me, i’d love to see it!

[nanamiskentos]

UNADULTERATED LOATHING ! ☓. ── ( 五条 悟, gojo satoru )

⌗ dazzling starlet, bardot reincarnatе. well, aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist ? you have an effect on gojo satoru, and he tells you that it's pure, unadulterated loathing. but why does his heart say otherwise?

ᯓ starring ─ ﹙ 五条 悟 : gojo satoru ﹚ ─ the strongest x reader

𝓳𝓳𝓴. ㅤ﹑ ( 呪術廻戦 x afab!reader )  ─── ❛ cw ⌓. sfw. wicked!au. enemies to lovers, gojo is SO in love, mutual pining, this is just a one-shot, like a quick snippet. wc ⌓. 2k.

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ( author says ) i finally watched wicked and i was listening to olivia rodrigo's lacy

you push through the doors of your long awaited assigned dormitory, already dreaming of the quiet solitude that's ready for you. that blissful moment when you can drop your bags, sink into the comfort of your room, and finally crack open that hefty book in your bag.

but the moment that you step aside, that dream dies a swift and unceremonious death. this room is a disaster. a veritable storm of pale blue, navy, and stark white sprawls across every available surface that the eye can take in. clothes draped over chairs, video game casings cracked open at odd angles, and half-finished letters abandoned in precarious piles. there's even a pair of sunglasses littered on the floor, so very close to polished tips of your new boots.

you just inhale sharply, already bracing yourself for the worst as you round the heavy trunk that blocks your path. only to collide, at full, devastating force into a solid, broad chest.

a firm plane of muscle that belongs to none other than the golden boy, gojo satoru.

and god, how your head snaps up in horror. his ever-present sunglasses are pushed up to his white hair, exposing a pair of sharp and wary eyes. bright and assessing, and currently locked onto you as if your very presence is the final act of some awful cosmic joke.

for a long and weighty moment, neither of you speak. there's a realisation settling between the two of you like a stone dropped into deep water. the administration truly did not make a mistake, gojo satoru was your new roommate.

"do you really think this is fair?" you ask, voice a tad weaker than you had hoped.

gojo just exhales through his nose, as if he's suffering through tragedies untold, "i do not." but his voice is melodic, smooth, as he straightens his spine so the very uppermost tufts of his snowy hair brush the ceiling, "as i was promised a private suite. but thanks for asking."

your eyes fall back skywards, stepping past him to assess your new surrounding. manoeuvring carefully through this...mess. gojo, for his part, seems content to move aside and keep his distance. he's just watching you in the large, oaken vanity, fiddling with his already-perfect hair.

casual, far too casual. he's suspicious, you realise. which, considering your mutual dislike, is quite fair.

still, it seems as though he's eager to make a show of his generosity. gojo's leaning away from the mirror, "i saved you some space, by the way." gesturing a long limb towards the farthest, least appealing corner of the room, where a diminutive daybed sits awkwardly beside a tiny, lopsided table with exactly one draw. your eyes fall on gojo's own bed, a rather ornate and gilded piece with curtans. ugh, what a diva.

gojo somehow must be mistaking your stony grimace for gratitude, for he's smiling. all beatific and cherubic, as though he's a saint sent down from the heavens above, "it was nothing. roommates do these things for each other, after all."

your eyes meet jewel-blue, still watching as gojo basks in your silent outrage. he's stretching his arms out luxuriously, kicking up his own boots onto a plush, cornflower blue ottoman.

you're going to strangle gojo satoru in his sleep. but had you not turned away from the walking waste of oxygen, you might have noticed the sudden, red flush that plastered itself onto gojo's alabaster skin — crawling up his neck until it tickled at his ears.

the room is now steeped in candlelight, the soft glow of gojo's lamp casting a cool, blue hue over everything. shadows flicker along the walls, elongating the handsome angles of his face as he lounges at his desk, twirling a navy feather-quill between his fingers. the fine parchment before him still lays untouched, for his gaze keeps drifting to you.

you, curled up on your far end of the room on your bed, bathed in the tired amber glow of your own lamp. gojo just watches as you're lost in your own careful strokes of ink on dry parchment. and he hates to admit it, loathes to even bestow upon you this grace, but he's fascinated by the sight of you — the most brilliant (if odd) peer in this damn cohort.

you write the way people pray, head bowed and utterly absorbed as each word is something sacred. your lashes cast long shadows on your cheeks, and gojo just gnaws at the soft flesh in his own mouth. enraptured by the parting of your lips lost in thought.

gojo satoru has seen beautiful things before, no-one raised in the illustrious gojo clan hasn't, but this is something else. something he can't quite name, and he fears that he hates you for the hold you have over him.

"to whom it may concern at the ol' gojo clan. guess what?" gojo finally begins, scrawling the words onto his letters without much thought. pretending to make a big show of tapping his chin, kicking back against his bed.

but across the room, you're so, so adamant to barely acknowledge gojo. forgoing his desire for constant attention to be rather focused on your own letter to home, "my dear father. thank you for agreeting to let me stay."

gojo's exhaling dramatically, head lolling back onto his tired neck, "i can't hear your guesses because this is a letter. so i'll just tell you."

silence stretches between the two of you, filled only by the faint rustling of paper, and the distant sound of laughter from the courtyard below. gojo's fingers tap out a restless rhythm against the wood of his bedside table. you're still refusing to acknowledge him, still wrapped up in your letter, and gojo — who has spent his entire life commanding love and affection, expecting it, feels something like irritation curl in his chest. or maybe it's something else entirely.

he tries again, and unbeknownst to the lovestruck gojo, you're penning the exact same words on your own letters.

"there's been some confusion over rooming here at school."

you're suddenly glancing over at him, and gojo bites his heavy tongue at the flicker of exasperation flashing through your eyes. watching as you sigh, and shake your head, "but of course," you scrawl, "i'll focus on my studies."

gojo's lips twitch, "but of course, i'll rise above it."

it seems that neither of you are aware that you are both writing in tandem now, so very synchronised as gojo dips his quill lazily into that half-empty ink pot, "for i know that's how you'd want me to respond."

gojo watches from you from behind the rim of his sunglasses, shameless in his greed for the sight of you, and utterly fascinated. the delicate furrow of your brow, the way your fingers tap absently against the desk when you pause to think. he knows people. he understands them.

but you? you are a riddle wrapped in something unfairly lovely, a puzzle he isn't even sure he's able to solve, because maybe knowing would make the mystery less intoxicating. gojo briefly wonders why he feels as though he's about to hurl.

"yes, there's been some confusion, for you see, my roommate is..."

gojo pauses, contemplating, for how does one describe you? how does anyone categorise something so strangely, annoyingly captivating?

you are contradictions woven into the shape of a person. sharp and soft, cold and brilliant, distant but so alive. he wants to say infuriating or prickly or entirely too self-serious, but none of those words quite capture the way that gojo's world seems to tilt slightly whenever you shoot him that unimpressed look.

"unusually and exceedingly peculiar, and altogether quite impossible to describe."

but you? you have very little hesitation. your quill barely lingering before you hastily scribble away, "blonde."

scratching the quill against the cheap parchment in a single stroke, amending yourself, "or rather, silver-haired and silver-tongued. yet, all too lacking for wit or decency."

and so you gently blow on the drying ink, neatly creasing the letter as you do your best not to meet gojo satoru's eyes. isn't he just too much? too loud, too arrogant, too sure of himself?

gojo satoru walks into a room as though it belongs to him, like the air bends around him and gravity itself is an afterthought to the heir of the gojo clan.

and god, you hate the way that your eyes must betray you first, catching on the sharp lines of his jaw or the effortless sway of his posture. the way his silver-white hair falls perfectly, no matter how carelessly he runs a hand through it. you hate, truly loathe the way gojo tilts his head when he's pretending to listen, or the way pink lips curl when he's about to say something that will drive you absolutely nuts.

you tell yourself that you find him irritating, not intoxicating. that you're unmoved, not entranced. that you don't notice the absurd prettiness of the school's golden boy, that annoyingly, careless confidence and the way he seems to puncture the air out of your lungs.

gojo's snowy head jerks, as though he can hear your thoughts. eyes narrowing behind dark lenses as he folds his own letter and tucks it into the pocket of his uniform jacket. you just school your features, and shoot him a seething look as though you did not just spend the last five minutes memorising every single detail of his face.

it's just loathing. pure, unadulterated loathing.

[julietsf1]

Holly Jolly Faking - Franco Colapinto x St.Mleux!Reader

summary: Two people who can’t stand each other agree to fake a relationship to avoid meddling friends and unwanted matchmaking during their Christmas weekend away. What could possibly go wrong? (8k words)

content: fake dating! reader is Alexandra's sister; Franco is COMMITTED;

AN: who doesn't love a good fake dating scenario? happy holidays sweeties!

-----------------------------------------

Snow crunched beneath your boots as you trudged up the icy path leading to the chalet, Alexandra practically bouncing beside you. She clutched your arm, grinning as if dragging you along to a winter wonderland wasn’t her latest attempt at orchestrating your personal life.

“You’re going to love this,” she insisted, her voice carrying above the stillness of the snowy evening. “I don’t think you’ve ever been to a Friendmas like this one.”

You shot her a look. “Alex, you’ve been talking about this weekend non-stop. I know exactly what to expect.”

She huffed, playfully rolling her eyes. “Yes, but actually being here? It’s magic. Charles did such an amazing job with the tree. You have to see it!”

“Is that before or after you shove me into George’s arms?”

Her cheeks flushed, though whether from the cold or guilt, you couldn’t tell. “Oh, stop it. George is lovely. You could at least give him a chance.”

“Alex,” you said pointedly, pausing to adjust your scarf, “I’m here for you, Charles, and the snow. Not a setup.”

“Fine, fine.” She waved you off, though her mischievous grin lingered as she dragged you forward.

The chalet came into view, its A-frame design illuminated by strings of fairy lights draped over its sloped roof. Smoke curled from the chimney, and warm golden light spilled from the windows, giving it a postcard-perfect charm. It was gorgeous. You hated that Alexandra had been right about it being magical.

The door flew open before you even reached the steps, Charles Leclerc standing there with his signature grin. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and he wore a red sweater that made him look annoyingly festive.

“Finally!” he called out, spreading his arms as if to gather you both into a hug. “We thought you’d gotten lost in the snow.”

“Blame her,” Alexandra said, releasing your arm to greet him. “She moves like a glacier.”

“Only because you packed half your wardrobe in the car,” you shot back, but Charles laughed, pulling you into a brief, warm hug.

“It’s good to see you. Welcome to Friendmas!”

“Thanks,” you said, glancing past him into the chalet. Laughter and voices carried from inside, blending with the crackle of a fireplace.

“Come in, come in,” Charles urged, stepping aside. “Everyone’s excited to see you—Lando is even more energetic than usual.”

“Lovely,” you muttered as Alexandra pushed you through the door.

The interior was just as cozy and picturesque as the exterior promised. Pine garlands hung from the rafters, and a massive Christmas tree stood in one corner, decked out with ornaments and twinkling lights. The scent of fresh pine mingled with hints of cinnamon and something buttery, probably cookies.

A chorus of voices greeted you from the living room. Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri were sprawled across the couches, mid-conversation, while Carlos Sainz lounged nearby, sipping from a mug. Max Verstappen, wearing his signature Red Bull polo, leaned against the back of an armchair, holding what I can only suspect is a glühwein in his hands.

“There you are!” Lando called out, bounding up from the couch like an overexcited puppy. “Finally! We need reinforcements.”

“For what?” you asked, setting your bag down near the stairs.

“To take down Max and Carlos,” Oscar explained, deadpan. “They’ve been ruining every game we’ve played since we got here.”

“It’s not ruining,” Carlos corrected, grinning. “It’s skill.”

Max gave a barely perceptible nod of agreement.

“You mean cheating,” Lando muttered, earning a laugh from Oscar.

“Welcome to the circus,” Alexandra said, nudging you forward. “Get comfortable. There’s a lot, but it’s fun.”

“And I’m sure George will be thrilled to see you,” Charles added, his teasing tone making you bristle.

“Where is he?” Alexandra asked, glancing around.

“In the kitchen,” Carlos said. “Probably perfecting the whipped cream on his cocoa or something.”

“I heard that,” George Russell called out, appearing from the kitchen doorway. He carried two steaming mugs, his sweater perfectly fitted and his hair neatly combed, as always.

“Milady, how wonderful to see you,” George said warmly to you, handing one mug to Alexandra.

“You too,” you replied, noting the subtle look Alexandra threw you. You shot her a glare in return.

And then, of course, Franco made his entrance.

He leaned against the fireplace, his green eyes glinting with amusement as he surveyed the scene. His tousled hair and casual stance gave him an air of effortless confidence, which only annoyed you further.

“Mirá vos,” Franco’s voice broke through the chatter, his tone slow and laced with mockery. “What a surprise. I didn’t think you’d make it. Busy schedule of glaring at people, I’m sure.”

“Franco,” you replied, deadpan, without so much as a glance in his direction.

The others continued their conversations, seemingly oblivious to the exchange, but Franco stepped closer, his smirk growing like he could sense your irritation.

“Still radiating warmth and goodwill, I see,” he quipped, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“Still trying way too hard to be funny,” you shot back, finally turning to face him.

His grin widened. “Oh, come on. I’m hilarious, and you know it. People have been laughing all evening.”

“At you, maybe,” you replied smoothly.

The retort earned the faintest snicker from Lando in the background, but Franco remained unfazed. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if to keep the exchange just between you. “I’ve missed this, you know. You keeping me in check. Someone has to, I suppose.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you replied, your tone cutting. “Keeping you in check would imply you’re worth the effort.”

His smirk grew as he straightened, undeterred. “You’re quick today. Must be all that Christmas cheer getting to you.”

“Must be,” you deadpanned, narrowing your eyes.

For a moment, you stared each other down, his grin still annoyingly present as your pulse quickened in frustration. The way he looked at you, like he knew exactly how to push your buttons, made your skin prickle.

“Anything else, Franco?” you asked, your tone clipped.

“Not yet,” he replied smoothly. “But don’t go too far. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

With a final smirk, he leaned back against the counter, casually reaching for a glass like the conversation hadn’t just left you fuming. You turned back to the others, but the weight of his gaze lingered, prickling at the edge of your awareness.

…

The dining room buzzed with warmth and chatter, the glow of candles reflecting off plates piled high with roasted chicken, potatoes, and vegetables. Alexandra had gone all out, decorating the table with garlands of pine and gold-rimmed glasses, while Charles played the perfect host, ensuring everyone’s wine was topped off.

You were trying your best to enjoy the evening, but sitting between George and Franco wasn’t making that easy.

George, ever the gentleman, was pleasant enough, keeping the conversation light. He asked about your travels and your work, always attentive and polite, and while you appreciated his effort, the attention made you squirm. Alexandra, of course, wasn’t helping.

“So, ma cherie,” Alexandra began, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Isn’t it nice to have someone else here who knows Monaco as well as you do?”

You resisted the urge to sigh. “Sure, Alex. It’s always nice.”

George, ever gracious, smiled at you. “It’s been a while since I’ve spent a proper holiday there. There’s something special about it in the winter, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, forcing a polite smile of your own. “The harbor looks magical with all the lights.”

Alexandra pounced on your response like a cat with a mouse. “Exactly! George, doesn’t that sound like the perfect setting for a romantic evening?”

“Alex,” you warned, your voice laced with both amusement and irritation.

“What?” she asked innocently, though the twinkle in her eye gave her away. “I’m just saying. You two have so much in common. You could plan something together when you’re back!”

Your face burned, and you quickly took a sip of your wine to hide your discomfort. “I think George has plenty of plans that don’t involve me tagging along,” you said lightly.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind,” George said, his smile kind. “I reckon it would be nice to have someone to share the nostalgia with.”

Your smile wavered as you searched for a way to steer the conversation elsewhere, but Alexandra was relentless.

“See? It’s perfect!” she declared. “I mean, what are the chances? It’s practically fate.”

Your grip on your fork tightened. “I think that’s a bit of a stretch, Alex.”

Charles, ever the romantic, sighed wistfully. “Love often comes when you least expect it. Imagine walking along the harbor together, the lights reflecting on the water…”

You groaned, though you couldn’t help but laugh. “Why are we discussing this at the dinner table, guys?”

“Because it’s fun,” Lando chimed in, grinning. “So tell me, do you like horses? I know George adores posh shit like Polo.”

Your laughter faltered, your cheeks flushing as all eyes turned to you. The attention felt suffocating, and you fumbled for a response.

“Lando, that’s enough,” you said, your tone more strained than you intended.

“Oh, come on,” Alexandra added, her smile too wide. “You and George would make such a good match. It’s about time you found someone who—”

Franco coughed loudly, the deliberate sound slicing through the chatter. Everyone turned to him, their laughter and conversation abruptly halting. He leaned back in his chair, his green eyes glinting with mischief as he set his wineglass down with theatrical precision.

“She’s with me, actually,” Franco said casually, his voice ringing with the kind of confidence that demanded attention.

The silence that followed was deafening.

You froze, your fork clattering against your plate as your brain scrambled to make sense of what he’d just said. The warmth of the room seemed to vanish, replaced by a prickling heat crawling up your neck.

“What?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible.

Franco didn’t so much as flinch. He shifted slightly in his chair, and before you could react, he reached over, sliding his hand over yours where it rested on the table. His touch was warm, his grip firm but not forceful. You stared at him, wide-eyed, as his smirk widened.

“You heard me,” he said, his tone maddeningly smooth. “I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer.”

Alexandra’s jaw dropped, her wide-eyed gaze darting between the two of you. “You’re joking,” she said flatly.

“Not at all,” Franco replied, looking entirely unbothered. His fingers drummed lightly against the back of your hand, a silent challenge. “Isn’t that right, sugarplum?”

The word hung in the air like a ticking bomb. Your pulse thundered in your ears as every pair of eyes at the table turned to you.

Your throat felt dry, brain racing, and your voice cracked when you finally managed to speak. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Oscar was the first to break. His laughter erupted like a tidal wave, loud and uncontrollable, as he nearly fell back in his chair. He clutched his stomach, tears streaming down his cheeks. “This… is… the best thing… I’ve ever heard!” he wheezed, struggling to catch his breath.

Lando wasn’t far behind, his wide grin splitting into a delighted laugh. “No way. You two?!”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” George said, his tone laced with disbelief.

Charles, however, looked positively enchanted. He leaned forward, his hands clasped together like a starstruck poet. “Love and hate are two sides of the same coin,” he declared, his eyes practically sparkling.

Carlos chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, this is a twist.”

Max leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a skeptical look. “Ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, though the faint twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

Alexandra, however, wasn’t so easily convinced. She narrowed her eyes at you, her brows knitting together in confusion. “But… when? How? You’ve barely even mentioned Franco to me.”

“It has been a whirlwind,” Franco interjected smoothly, shooting you a sidelong glance. “Right, my little lovebug?”

You glared at him, your jaw clenched as you fought the urge to strangle him on the spot. “Uh, yeah. Something like that,” you said through gritted teeth.

“I’m sure it was,” Alexandra said, still clearly unconvinced.

“Tell us everything!” Lando demanded, leaning forward like a gossip-hungry child. “When did this start? Was it one of those dramatic, enemies-to-lovers things? Did you secretly kiss during a race weekend?”

“Lando,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended.

He leaned back, unbothered, and waved you off. “Fine, fine. Keep your secrets.”

“You’re full of surprises,” George said looking at you, his expression hovering somewhere between confusion and polite disappointment.

“Trust me, George,” you muttered, unable to meet his eyes. “I was just as surprised as you are.”

The teasing and laughter continued, the group trading increasingly wild theories about your so-called relationship. Meanwhile, Franco seemed to bask in the chaos he’d created, his smirk never wavering as he leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself.

Under the table, his knee brushed yours, and you shot him a death glare. “What the hell are you doing?” you hissed under your breath.

“Saving you,” he replied quietly, his tone annoyingly casual.

“By making my life worse?”

He leaned closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Oh, come on. You’d rather sit through more matchmaking from Alexandra?”

You couldn’t argue with that, but it didn’t make you any less furious.

As the group began to move on, shifting the conversation back to other topics, you slumped slightly in your chair, exhausted from the ordeal.

This was going to be a very, very long weekend.

…

The morning sun streamed into the chalet’s large windows, gilding the room in gold. You stirred your coffee slowly, staring out at the snow-covered peaks in the distance. Peace and quiet were rare in a house full of such chaotic personalities, but you’d stolen this moment for yourself.

Or so you thought.

“Morning, sugarplum.”

The sound of Franco’s voice made you visibly tense. You didn’t need to look to know he was leaning against the doorframe, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You’re really committed to that name, aren’t you?” you asked flatly, turning just enough to shoot him a withering look.

“Would you prefer ‘honeybun’?” he replied smoothly, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Or maybe ‘snugglebear’? I’m flexible.”

“How about you don’t call me anything?”

“Not very girlfriend-like of you, sweetheart,” he teased, taking a sip of his coffee and leaning casually against the counter. “People might start to doubt us.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, already feeling your patience wearing thin. “If anyone doubts us, it’s because you’re about as subtle as a flashing neon sign.”

Franco grinned. “What can I say? I’m hopelessly in love.”

Before you could retort, Lando appeared, sliding into the kitchen with his usual chaotic energy. “What’s this?” he asked, his grin widening as his eyes flicked between you and Franco. “Secret lovebird meeting?”

“We’re not—” you began, but Franco cut you off, slinging an arm around your shoulders with infuriating ease.

“Just waking up my muffin,” he said smoothly.

“Muffin?” Lando repeated, his eyebrows shooting up.

“She’s sweet like one,” Franco explained, giving you a squeeze that you immediately wriggled out of.

Lando barked out a laugh, grabbing an apple from the counter. “You two are ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head as he left the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, you turned to Franco with a scowl. “What the hell have you gotten me into.”

“Relax, cupcake,” he said, smirking. “Although I am loving seeing you worked up like this.”

You crossed your arms tightly, your glare unwavering. “You could’ve warned me before throwing me into this mess.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he quipped, his voice maddeningly light. “You’re quick on your feet; I figured you’d keep up.”

Your frustration bubbled over, and you took a step closer, pointing at him. “This is not fun, Franco. This is me playing along so you don’t make it worse.”

“Relax, cupcake,” he said, smirking again. “You’ll get used to it. And honestly? You’re kind of good at it.”

You threw your hands up, exasperated. “Stop calling me that! This isn’t a game.”

His grin only widened, but there was a flicker of something softer in his gaze as he said, “It’s not a game, but it is very entertaining. Trust me, you’ll survive.”

Your jaw tightened, and you turned away, trying to steady yourself. “If you call me ‘cupcake’ one more time, I swear—”

“Duly noted,” he interrupted, his voice filled with amusement.

You huffed, grabbing the spoon and stirring your coffee again, trying to focus on anything but the smug grin you could still feel behind you.

...

Later that afternoon, you found yourself elbow-deep in a bowl of icing, surrounded by flour-dusted countertops and trays of freshly baked cookies. The group had decided on a cookie-decorating contest, and Alexandra had enlisted everyone with the enthusiasm of a drill sergeant.

“You’re going down,” Lando declared, grabbing a piping bag.

“I never lose,” Max replied, his expression as stoic as ever, though his hands worked with surprising precision.

You were concentrating on spreading icing over a snowman-shaped cookie when Franco appeared at your side.

“Need help, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice dripping with false sincerity.

“No,” you replied sharply, but he was already grabbing a piping bag and leaning into your space.

“You missed a spot,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned even closer.

Before you could react, he dipped a finger into a bowl of icing and held it up to your mouth.

“Say ahh,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Franco,” you hissed, your cheeks burning as the others turned to watch.

“Come on, sugarplum,” he said. “You’ve got to taste test your work.”

Gritting your teeth, you opened your mouth just enough to swipe the icing off his finger with a quick flick of your tongue. The room erupted into a mix of laughter and groans.

“That’s disgusting,” Lando said, though he was clearly enjoying the chaos.

“Get a room,” Max muttered, though his lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile.

You glared at Franco, but his smirk only grew. Grabbing the nearest piping bag, you squeezed a glob of icing onto your fingers and smeared it across his cheek.

“There,” you said sweetly. “You missed a spot.”

The table roared with laughter, and Franco’s grin never faltered as he wiped the icing off with a napkin. “You’re feisty today, snugglebear.”

“Stop calling me that,” you snapped, though there was a faint twinkle of amusement in your eyes.

Alexandra, who was trying to keep the peace, clapped her hands together. “No arguing please. This is supposed to be festive!”

“Don’t worry,” Franco said, his voice smooth as ever. “We’re perfectly fine. Right, sweetheart?”

You didn’t dignify him with a response, instead turning your attention back to your cookies.

“Don’t be shy, sugarplum,” Franco added, leaning closer. “Tell them how much you love me.”

“I hate you,” you muttered under your breath.

“Love you too, honeybear.”

…

By the time the chaos of the afternoon subsided, you were desperate for solitude. The chalet’s constant buzz of laughter and chatter had become too much, so you slipped away, finding refuge in the small, cozy study near the back of the house.

The fire crackled softly in the corner, casting a warm glow over the room. You curled up in one of the oversized armchairs, a cup of hot chocolate warming your hands as you tried to collect your thoughts.

The peace didn’t last long.

The door creaked open, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Found you, booboo,” Franco’s infuriatingly smug voice broke the silence.

You groaned, not turning around. “Go away, Franco.”

“And miss this little brooding session? Not a chance,” he said, closing the door behind him.

You heard his footsteps cross the room, and within moments, he was perched on the armrest of your chair, his presence looming far too close for comfort.

“What do you want?” you snapped, finally looking up at him.

“To check on my darling girlfriend,” he replied smoothly, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “You seemed a little… tense earlier.”

“I wonder why,” you said dryly, taking a sip of your cocoa.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, feigning thoughtfulness. “Is it because your sister is practically shoving you at George every five seconds? Good thing I swooped in to save you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You didn’t save me. You made it worse.”

“Worse?” he repeated, mock-offended. “I saved you from months of awkward George politeness and Alexandra’s relentless matchmaking. You should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you?” you repeated, incredulous. “For turning my life into a bad broadway show?”

Franco smirked, leaning closer. “You’ve got to admit, it’s entertaining.”

You glared at him. “For who? You?”

“For everyone,” he said, laughing softly. “But mostly me.”

Your grip tightened on your mug, your patience hanging by a thread. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, here I am,” he said, grinning. “Your knight in shining armor.”

You snorted. “More like the villain in a rom-com.”

“Rom-com?” he mused. “I like that. Does that make you the quirky lead who doesn’t realize she’s in love with me until the final act?”

“I hate you,” you muttered, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you with the faintest twitch.

“No, you don’t,” he said lightly, leaning back as if he had all the time in the world.

The fire popped loudly, filling the silence that followed. For a brief moment, his teasing smirk softened, his green eyes flickering with something unreadable.

You shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling too exposed. “Why are you really here, Franco?”

He tilted his head, his smirk returning, but a subtle hint of sincerity was now present in his voice. “Just checking in. Making sure my favorite little grape isn’t plotting my demise.”

“I’m always plotting your demise,” you said flatly.

“Good to know,” he said, standing but lingering by your side. For once, his smirk faded, replaced by something softer. “But seriously… take it easy, okay?” He paused, his voice dropping slightly. “I’ll make sure tomorrow isn’t so bad.”

He was halfway to the door when it swung open again, revealing Lando, grinning like he’d just stumbled upon a jackpot.

“What’s this? Private lovebird time?” he asked, stepping into the room without waiting for an invitation.

“Oh, absolutely,” Franco said, his grin widening. “She couldn’t keep away.”

You groaned, setting your cocoa down. “Lando, please.”

He ignored you, leaning casually against the doorframe. “So, Franco, what’s tomorrow’s nickname? Angelcake? Lovebug?”

“Love nugget,” Franco replied instantly, his smirk smug as ever.

Lando cackled, nearly doubling over. “Love nugget! Oh, this just keeps getting better.”

You buried your face in your hands with a groan. “You’re all insufferable.”

“No, no,” Franco corrected, his grin widening. “I’m the insufferable one. They’re just my audience.”

“Exactly,” Lando chimed in, still laughing. “We’re just here for the show.”

Franco clapped him on the shoulder as he left the room. “Come on. Let’s leave my little honey bunny to her brooding.”

You threw a pillow at them as they walked out, but your aim was off, and their laughter echoed down the hall.

…

The living room buzzed with laughter and chatter, the fire crackling warmly in the hearth as snow fell softly outside. Lando stood at the center of the room, waving a bowl filled with folded slips of paper.

“All right, people!” he declared, his grin as wide as ever. “Time for charades! Teams have been pre-assigned by yours truly, so no arguing.”

“Lando, what did you do?” Carlos asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Created the perfect teams, duh,” Lando replied smugly. “Here we go. Team one: Alex and Charles. Team two: George and Oscar. Team three: Max and Carlos. And finally… Franco and his sweetieboo!”

You groaned audibly, shooting Lando a glare. “Seriously?”

He smirked. “You’re welcome.”

Franco leaned closer, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. “Look at that, sugarplum. Fate wants us to win.”

“How wonderful,” you muttered under your breath.

“Okay, everyone knows the rules,” Lando continued, ignoring the tension between you and Franco. “No talking, sound effects are allowed, but only one person on the team acts at a time. And remember, you’ve got thirty seconds per round. Got it?”

Everyone nodded, settling into their seats as Lando pulled the first slip from the bowl.

The first few rounds were as chaotic as expected. Alex’s exaggerated gestures left Charles laughing too hard to guess, and George and Oscar worked surprisingly well together, securing a few easy points. Max and Carlos turned every clue into a competitive showdown, each accusing the other of overcomplicating things.

By the time it was your team’s turn, the energy in the room was electric, and the scoreboard showed a tight race between George and Oscar’s team and Max and Carlos’s.

“Franco, you’re up!” Lando announced, handing him a slip of paper.

Franco unfolded it, his smirk growing as he read the word. Without a word, he turned to you and held out his hand.

“Come here,” he said simply.

You narrowed your eyes, immediately suspicious. “Why?”

“Just trust me,” he replied, his tone smooth as ever.

Reluctantly, you stepped forward, and he wasted no time pulling you into the center of the room.

“Franco, what are you doing?” you hissed, but he ignored you.

The room fell silent as everyone watched him intently. Without warning, he placed one hand firmly on your back and clasped your other hand in his.

“Wait—”

Before you could protest, he spun you out dramatically, then pulled you back in, his movements fluid and precise.

“Is this—”

“Shh,” he whispered.

Your heart stumbled in your chest as he led you through an impromptu tango, his grip firm but surprisingly gentle, his hand steady on your back as his green eyes locked with yours.

The room erupted in cheers and laughter, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat, loud and insistent in your ears.

You barely had time to register what was happening before he spun you out dramatically, then pulled you back in for a final dip.

“Guess the word, sugarplum,” Franco whispered, his voice low and teasing.

Your brain refused to cooperate. You opened your mouth, but no words came out as your heart pounded in your chest as you stared up at him, completely flustered..

“Uh…”

“Time’s up!” Lando shouted, his laughter ringing above the chaos. “The word was ‘tango!’”

“Oh, come on,” Franco groaned, straightening up and releasing you. “She had one job.”

“I—” You struggled to form a coherent sentence, still reeling from the unexpected intensity of the moment.

“She was too flustered,” Oscar said with a grin. “Can’t blame her for that.”

“You call that acting out?” Max asked, raising an eyebrow. “That was more like showing off.”

“Showing off or not,” Charles interjected, his eyes alight with romantic fervor, “it was beautiful. Truly.”

Carlos clapped Franco on the back. “Points for commitment.”

Lando was practically in tears, clutching his stomach as he laughed. “Please, we should do Friendmas more often! You guys are killing me.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at Franco. “Was that really necessary?”

“I wasn’t trying to win,” Franco said casually, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Just wanted to make it memorable.”

The laughter and teasing in the living room still rang in your ears as you slipped away into the quiet of the kitchen. The glow of the firelight from the other room faded behind you, replaced by the soft hum of the under-cabinet lights. Snow fell steadily outside the large window, each flake illuminated by the warm outdoor lanterns.

Leaning against the counter, you cradled a glass of water in your hands. The coolness seeped through your fingers, grounding you, though it did little to steady the erratic beat of your heart. The tango performance replayed in your mind—Franco’s confident hold, the sharp dip, and the way his gaze lingered on yours a moment too long.

“May I briefly interrupt your private moment?”

The familiar voice made you turn, startled. George stood in the doorway, his posture upright, his expression thoughtful but tinged with hesitation.

“George,” you said, offering a small smile. “Everything all right?”

He stepped inside, his shoes tapping softly against the polished wood floor. “I was about to ask you the same. You seemed, well, rather unsettled during charades. I wanted to make sure you’re… alright.”

You laughed softly, trying to deflect. “Just overwhelmed, I guess. All the attention gets a bit much sometimes.”

George raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. He moved a little closer, his hands sliding into the pockets of his trousers with an air of casual elegance. “May I speak frankly?”

“Of course,” you replied, though a sinking feeling began to settle in your chest.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze fixed on you, his words carefully measured. “Are you and Franco actually serious?”

The question hit harder than you expected.

George continued, his voice soft but deliberate. “It’s just… unexpected. I didn’t think he was, er, your sort of man. But if he makes you happy, that’s what matters. I merely—” He paused, his eyes searching yours. “I’d hate to think you’re settling for anything less than what you deserve.”

Your throat tightened. The sincerity in his tone was disarming, and the lie you’d been weaving all weekend felt heavier than ever.

“I—” You faltered, words failing you.

The door swung open, cutting through the tension like a knife.

Franco stepped inside, his presence filling the room instantly. His gaze flicked between you and George, his green eyes sharp but unreadable. His usual smirk was tempered, his expression calm but watchful.

“Hi there,” Franco said, his voice light but laced with a quiet edge. “Am I interrupting something?”

George turned slightly, his shoulders still relaxed but his tone more clipped. “Not at all. The lady and I were just having a chat.”

Franco’s eyes lingered on you, and without a word, he stepped closer, his hand sliding to rest gently on your waist. The touch was subtle but deliberate, his fingers warm against the fabric of your sweater.

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” Franco said, his smirk returning faintly. “But don’t keep her too long. I might start missing her.”

George’s brow twitched, his eyes flicking briefly to Franco’s hand before returning to yours. “Right,” he said after a moment, his voice still measured. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” He hesitated, his gaze softening as it lingered on you. “Do let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, George,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

He nodded once before stepping out, the door closing softly behind him.

The room fell silent, save for the faint crackle of the fire in the distance. Franco didn’t move, his hand still resting firmly on your waist.

“You okay?” he asked finally, his voice quieter than you expected.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

His lips twitched, a faint smirk threatening to appear, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” you replied, though the slight shake in your voice betrayed you.

He tilted his head, his gaze fixed on yours. “Because you disappeared pretty quickly after the game.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he continued before you could.

“I came to check on you,” he said, his tone casual but deliberate. “Can’t say I’m surprised though that George went to find you first.”

Your brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”

Franco shifted slightly, his thumb brushing subtly against your waist in a way that sent an unexpected jolt through you. “He clearly wanted to test the water,” he said, his voice low, almost conversational. “Cornering you in here like that. Asking questions he knows might throw you off.”

“Sure, sweet George had sneaky intentions,” you said, though a soft laugh escaped you.

“For sure,” Franco insisted, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing his features. “He’s too polite to make it obvious, but trust me, he knows what he’s doing.”

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not,” Franco replied, the smirk returning. His thumb moved again, a slow, absent stroke against your side as he spoke. “He’s clever enough to know when to push without it looking like he’s pushing.”

“And you think that’s what he was doing?”

“Even is he wasn't,” Franco said, meeting your gaze squarely. For a moment, his usual bravado was replaced by something more sincere, more grounded. “I just wanted to make sure he knows you’re mine.”

Your breath caught, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread.

He must have noticed the way your expression shifted because he chuckled softly, his smirk softening. “You know, for now. Until this whole thing is over and you can go back to being everyone’s favorite single lady.”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart was pounding. “Oh, how noble of you.”

“Very noble,” he said, his tone teasing again. “It’s hard work being such a convincing fake boyfriend.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re such a pain.”

“A pain?” he repeated, his smirk deepening. “Or exactly what you need?”

The moment stretched, his hand still resting on your waist, his touch grounding and unnervingly warm. For a split second, it felt like the world outside the kitchen had disappeared, leaving only the two of you in this small, quiet space.

“You know,” you said quietly, barely meeting his gaze, “Alexandra’s matchmaking ideas don’t exactly… line up with what I want. So you don’t have to worry about that.”

Franco’s brow lifted slightly, but the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. “Good to know.”

He cleared his throat, stepping back just enough to give you some space but not enough to completely break the connection. “Come on, sugarplum. We should get back before Lando starts a search party.”

“Right,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

He gestured for you to lead the way, his hand lingering just long enough to make your skin tingle before he finally let it fall.

As you stepped back into the chaos of the living room, you couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye. The smirk was back, his confident demeanor firmly in place, but something about the way he’d spoken lingered in your mind.

…

The lake glistened under the pale winter sun, the ice reflecting the snowy peaks surrounding it. The group was a riot of scarves, gloves, and thick jackets, their breath visible in the crisp, cold air.

“Right, bets are open!” Lando declared, pulling his gloves tighter. “Charles versus Carlos: who’s wiping out first?”

“Carlos,” Max said flatly, tightening his own skates.

“I’m offended,” Carlos shot back, puffing his chest dramatically.

“I’ll take that action,” Oscar quipped, producing a crumpled bill from his pocket.

Meanwhile, Franco stood next to you, his hands tucked casually in his coat pockets as he watched the scene unfold with a grin. “Think you’ll make it through without falling, pudding pie?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Think you can go a full hour without making a comment like that?”

“Nope,” he replied, his grin widening.

Charles and Carlos were already on the ice, their playful bickering carrying across the frozen expanse as they started an impromptu race. Charles was fast but clumsy, slipping every few strides, while Carlos cackled loudly, skating circles around him.

Lando and Max, true to form, took their positions at the sidelines to heckle and place more bets.

You laced your skates carefully, trying to ignore the fact that Franco’s gaze was on you the entire time.

“Ready?” he asked as you stood, wobbling slightly.

“Don’t laugh,” you warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, though the smirk playing at the corners of his lips said otherwise.

The ice stretched out before you, gleaming under the pale winter sun like a vast, treacherous mirror. Each step felt like a gamble, your skates threatening to slip out from under you at any moment. Franco skated backward effortlessly in front of you, his movements smooth and confident, as if he’d been born to glide.

“You look like a baby deer,” he teased, his green eyes alight with amusement.

You shot him a glare, your arms flailing slightly as you tried to regain your balance. “Thanks for the support.”

“Relax,” he said, skating closer. His hands reached out instinctively, steadying you with a touch that was firmer than necessary but far from unwelcome. “You’re doing fine.”

“I don’t need your help,” you muttered, though you made no move to pull your hand away as he laced his fingers with yours.

He smirked, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles in a way that sent a small jolt of warmth through you. “Sure you don’t.”

Behind you, Lando’s voice rang out, cutting through the stillness of the lake.

“Max is going down! I can feel it!”

Max, ever unbothered, glided past with surprising ease. “You’re the one who’s going down, Lando,” he retorted without looking back.

Franco chuckled softly, his gaze flicking briefly toward the chaos around you before returning to your face. “You’re lucky I’m not like them.”

“What, loud and extremely present?” you quipped, your lips twitching in the beginnings of a smile.

“Exactly,” he replied, his grin widening.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the way your shoulders relaxed slightly under his steadying touch.

Taking a deep breath, you let go of his hand, feeling a surge of confidence as you took a tentative step on your own.

The sudden scrape of blades against ice drew your attention to George as he skated up beside you, his posture impossibly straight, his movements smooth and deliberate.

“Need a hand?” he asked, his tone warm and polite, as always.

You glanced at him, your heart sinking slightly at the hopeful look in his blue eyes. His hand hovered just in front of yours, an offer you knew he thought you might take.

“That’s sweet of you, George,” you said gently, forcing a small smile. “But I think Franco’s got it.”

His hand lowered slightly, and his expression shifted, though he recovered quickly.

Before the silence could stretch too far, you turned back to Franco, raising your free hand toward him. “Hold my hand again?”

Franco raised a brow, clearly surprised by the request, but he didn’t hesitate. His hand slid easily into yours, his grip firm and steady as he pulled you closer. “Anything for you, sugarplum.”

The words, playful as they were, carried a softness that hadn’t been there before, and for a moment, you forgot about the chill in the air.

George hesitated briefly, his gaze flicking between you and Franco, before nodding once. “All right then,” he said, his tone polite but slightly clipped. “I’ll let you two be.”

He skated ahead with a precision that seemed a little too deliberate, his back straight and his strides measured.

Franco watched him go, his lips twitching in the beginnings of a smirk. “Smooth,” he murmured, turning his attention back to you.

“Don’t start,” you said quickly, though the warmth of his hand made it impossible to sound annoyed.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough for only you to hear. “You could’ve let him help, you know.”

“I didn’t want his help,” you replied, your gaze fixed on the ice in front of you.

“No?” Franco’s smirk deepened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again in a motion so casual it felt intentional. “Guess I’m doing something right then.”

You didn’t respond, though your cheeks burned under his gaze. Instead, you focused on moving forward, your steps growing more confident with his hand in yours.

Around you, the chaos of the group continued unabated—Carlos yelling at Charles for cutting him off during their makeshift race, Lando shrieking as Max lunged at him with outstretched arms, and Oscar laughing so hard he nearly fell over.

But for a brief moment, it all faded into the background, leaving only the sound of your blades against the ice and the warmth of Franco’s hand in yours.

…

The chalet buzzed with noise and laughter as we stumbled back inside from the frozen lake. The warmth from the roaring fire hit me like a wave, thawing my frozen fingers and toes. Everyone was shedding layers—scarves, coats, gloves—creating a chaotic pile near the doorway.

“I had him!” Charles was practically shouting, his voice thick with indignation as he gestured wildly at Carlos. “He tripped me on purpose!”

Carlos, leaning casually against the back of a chair, raised a brow and smirked. “I didn’t trip you, mate. You tripped yourself.”

“Oh, sure,” Charles shot back, throwing his gloves down dramatically. “You just happened to be in my way.”

“Can someone trip him again? I need a replay,” Lando quipped, flopping onto the armrest of the couch with all the grace of a cat falling off a ledge.

“You’re all terrible,” Charles muttered, though the corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

“You know what’s really terrible?” Max cut in, pointing a finger at Lando. “Lando’s skating. I’ve seen toddlers with more grace.”

“Excuse me!” Lando sat up, mock-offended. “Who got you to fall, hmm? Oh, right—it was me. Call it strategy.”

“It was chaos,” Oscar said, sipping his tea as he perched on the edge of the couch. “Pure chaos.”

“Chaos,” Alexandra chimed in, walking past me as she unwound her scarf, “is you all trying to one-up each other like you’re in some kind of Winter Olympics tryout.”

“Alexandra, be honest,” Carlos said, leaning toward her. “Who was better—me or Charles?”

She pretended to consider it for a moment before shrugging. “Neither. You were both disasters in your own way.”

I snorted, pulling off my gloves and tucking them into my coat pocket. “She’s not wrong.”

Max turned his gaze to me, smirking. “Speaking of disasters, I saw you almost fall twice.”

“Almost being the key word,” I shot back, narrowing my eyes at him.

“You only survived because of him,” Max said, jerking his chin toward Franco, who was currently leaning against the fireplace like he had all the time in the world.

“Is that true?” Alexandra asked, her eyes flicking between Franco and me.

“Absolutely,” Franco said, his grin lazy as he met my gaze. “Graceful as ever, aren’t you, sugarplum?”

The group burst into laughter, and I felt my cheeks heat. I rolled my eyes, grabbing the hem of my sweater and pretending to brush off invisible dust. “I’m going to make hot chocolate. At least that won’t involve falling on my face.”

The kitchen was warm and quiet, a perfect escape from the chaos of the living room. I stirred the bubbling cocoa on the stove, letting the rhythmic motion calm me as the faint hum of voices filtered through the walls.

The door creaked open, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Franco stepping inside. His hair was still tousled from the cold, and his green eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and something softer.

“Couldn’t resist joining me, huh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, someone had to check on the quality control of this hot chocolate,” he quipped, leaning casually against the counter.

I snorted, turning back to the pot. “As if you’re qualified to judge.”

He grinned, pushing off the counter and taking a step closer. “Bold words for someone who didn’t even add marshmallows.”

“They’re coming,” I shot back.

“Sure they are,” he said, his voice teasing but light.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I focused on the cocoa, feeling his eyes on me. When I glanced at him again, he was fidgeting slightly, his hands shifting in his pockets.

“What’s up?” I asked, my brow furrowing.

He hesitated before pulling a small, slightly crumpled package from his pocket. “I wanted to give you something,” he said, his voice quieter now.

That caught me off guard. “You? Giving me something?”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling out a small package wrapped in slightly crumpled paper. He set it on the counter between us, his movements slower than usual.

“You’re serious?” I asked, eyeing the little package, still in shock.

“It’s nothing big,” he said grinning shyly. “I just… wanted to give you this before the whole Secret Santa circus starts later.”

I stared at the package, my curiosity piqued. “You’re not my Secret Santa.”

“Nope,” he said, popping the “p” as he placed the package on the counter between us. “I’m just really bad at following the rules.”

I looked at the package, then back at him. “Is this going to explode?”

“No, it’s not going to explode,” he said, his grin softening into something almost sheepish. “Just open it.”

I stared at the package for a moment before taking it, the weight of his gaze making my chest tighten. Carefully, I peeled back the wrapping, revealing a delicate gold bracelet with a tiny heart-shaped charm.

I turned it over, my breath catching when I saw the engraving on the back: Sugarplum.

“Franco…” I trailed off, brushing my thumb over the charm.

“It’s just a silly thing, got it in town this morning,” he said quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “For when this weekend’s over and you’ll start missing my nicknames. Or, you know, to apologize for dragging you into this whole fake-dating mess in the first place.”

“I don’t mind as much as I thought I would,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

He glanced at me, his green eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite place. “Still. I thought it might be nice to have… a funny memory. Or whatever.”

I slipped the bracelet onto my wrist, the charm resting lightly against my skin. It fit perfectly, as though it had always belonged there.

The bracelet’s charm glinted softly in the light as it settled against my wrist, the chain fitting perfectly. I turned it over once more, running my thumb across the tiny engraving.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” I said, glancing up at him.

Franco shrugged, leaning back slightly against the counter. “I know. But… I wanted to. It felt right.”

I raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Right?”

“Okay, maybe ‘right’ is overselling it,” he admitted, his grin faint and a little sheepish. “But I figured, if we’re doing this whole fake-dating thing, we might as well have something to laugh about later. You know, when we’re telling everyone how much we hated it.”

His words were light, but something about the way he said them made my chest tighten. “I don’t really hate it,” I said quietly.

He blinked, his grin faltering. “No?”

I shook my head, the bracelet shifting slightly as I let my arms fall to my sides. “It’s been… weird. Definitely not what I expected, but not all bad.”

“Not all bad,” he repeated, his tone teasing but softer.

“Yeah,” I said, shrugging a little. “I guess I’ve gotten… used to you.”

He tilted his head, his green eyes narrowing slightly. “Used to me? Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Take it however you want,” I said, fighting back a smile.

“Noted,” he said, his lips curving into something closer to his usual smirk. “I’ll put it right up there with, ‘Franco, you’re annoying, but tolerable.’”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Don’t push it.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You know,” he said after a moment, his voice dropping slightly, “it hasn’t been all bad for me either. I mean, you’ve got your moments.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Moments?”

“Yeah,” he said, his grin softening. “Like when you aren’t rolling your eyes at me or threatening to throw something. Those are nice.”

I rolled my eyes instinctively, but the warmth in his gaze made my stomach flip. “Oh shut up,” I muttered, though there was no real heat in my voice.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us shifted, growing heavier, and I felt the distance between us shrink even though neither of us moved.

“You’re going to keep calling me Sugarplum, aren’t you?” I asked finally, breaking the silence.

“Oh, absolutely,” he said, his grin returning. “You’re stuck with it now.”

The room felt smaller suddenly, the warmth from the stove and the weight of his gaze wrapping around me like a blanket. My heart pounded as the silence stretched, the unspoken words hanging between us growing louder with every passing second.

“Franco,” I began, not even sure what I was going to say.

His eyes searched mine, his lips parting slightly, as though he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

Without thinking, I leaned forward and kissed him.

The movement startled him at first—his breath hitched, his hands hovering awkwardly—but then he responded, his touch finding my waist as he pulled me closer. His lips were warm and soft, hesitant at first, as though he wasn’t entirely sure he was allowed to kiss me back.

When my hand slid up to the back of his neck, threading through his hair, the kiss deepened. His grip on my waist tightened, his other hand brushing lightly against my arm before settling on my lower back. The air between us seemed to crackle, the faint scent of cocoa mingling with the heat of his touch.

He kissed me like he was trying to memorize it, his lips moving slowly but deliberately, as though he didn’t want to rush.

When I finally pulled back, my forehead barely brushed against his, our breaths mingling in the warm air of the kitchen. My cheeks burned, and my pulse hammered in my ears, but I couldn’t bring myself to step away just yet.

Franco’s green eyes searched mine, his usual confidence replaced by something quieter, softer. His lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come right away.

“I didn’t think you’d do that,” he finally murmured, his voice low and uncertain.

“Good surprise or bad surprise?” I asked, my tone light despite the way my chest tightened.

“Good,” he said without hesitation, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Really good.”

His hands were still resting lightly on my waist, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of my sweater. The warmth of his touch was bringing my head back to earth, making the moment feel more real than anything that had come before it.

I wasn’t sure who moved first, but before I knew it, I was leaning back in, capturing his lips in another kiss. This one was slower, more deliberate, the kind of kiss that felt like an unspoken promise. His hand slid up to cradle my face, his thumb brushing softly against my cheek as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

The sound of the door creaking open made us jump apart, and I turned sharply to see Lando standing frozen in the doorway, his mouth hanging open.

For a moment, none of us spoke. Then, Lando blinked, his gaze darting between us as his brain seemed to catch up with what he’d just walked in on.

“Oh my god,” he blurted out, his voice a mix of shock and triumph. “You’re actually for real..”

“Lando—” Franco started, his voice low and exasperated.

“No, no, wait. This is—wow. I mean, Oscar’s gonna lose his mind. And ten euros.” Lando grinned, his excitement building.

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Lando, can you please just—”

“Leave you to it?” he interrupted, smirking as he leaned casually against the doorframe. “Sure, I can do that.” 

The sound of his retreating footsteps was immediately followed by his voice erupting from the living room. “OSCAR! MAX! THEY’RE ACTUALLY TOGETHER! PAY UP!”

Franco let out a long sigh, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’m going to kill him.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly. 

I glanced down at the bracelet on my wrist, the charm catching the light. The warmth spreading through me was impossible to ignore, a quiet certainty settling in my chest.

“Still worth it?” I asked, my tone teasing but soft.

His eyes flicked to the bracelet and then back to me, and the smile that followed was warmer, more genuine.

“Yeah,” he said simply. “Definitely.”

[karinasbaby]

prince lion hybrid heeseung & snow leopard reader — royal au, hunger games-like au, hybrid au obv. not proofread, posting this & going to sleep goodnight !

when the young leo was born to the kingdom, to his strong lion parents, it was marked down in history as the luckiest day for the empire.

just as the small cub hissed, his lean golden tail engulfing his father’s wrist as he cradled him, everyone in the room witnessed the timelines being rewritten.

the tears in the queen’s eyes at the sight of her strong son, the vibrating purrs of delight from the king that shook the entire chamber. the long awaited prince has finally arrived. a healthy, powerful and brave lion.

while on the the other side of the country, above the snow covered mountains and the misty air, the cry of another cub broke out.

one quieter, more wise. the tail of the hybrid fluffier, thick and icy. suited for the frosty temperatures.

held between lesser arms in comparison to the lion prince, quieter celebrations and a smaller achievement, a petite mark in the feline history.

you were embraced by snow, raised between the frozen flakes and the darkened wooden oaks. a jarring contrast from the blinding gold that surrounded the prince, the silk and ruffling robes that slashed like thunder behind him when he stomped through the royal hallways.

while your father taught you the weak points of the prey, how to efficiently sink your fangs when threatened— heeseung’s father trained him to wage war, illuminated his path to darker and deeper bloodbaths, drilled his sickened ideologies that have been carried within the empire for centuries.

that’s what the jungle lived by, a vastly different ground than the mountains. so one would wonder, how could your snowy path possibly cross heeseung’s golden one?

it was a cruel end to yours when you were pushed onto your knees in front of the king. the lion with the untamed mane and the coiling tail that his royal robes were never able to contain, forced. you didn’t want to be here.

while a leopard’s freedom should never be taken, that wasn’t a belief that swirled in the thick head of the lion king, much less his prince’s head as they both stood in front of the newest contestants.

the ones that will fight to death to earn a place in the jungle, the only place a feline would be forced to live in with the premise that it is a privilege, a blessing to be beneath the care of the king and under the wing of the empire.

but that was far from the truth— especially for you, if you were to judge from the way the king’s golden slit eyes twinged with hatred when they noticed your whitened fur. the disapproving snarl when your spotted silvery tail coiled behind you in alarm.

yet the prince’s eyes were gentle, they were curious as they studied the first snow leopard to paw above the royal grounds in centuries.

a mystery, a true divine enigma that he was thrilled to discover, to know.

and you knew now that your only problem wouldn’t be the king, it would be the prince’s wild curiosity as well.

[thirteenheavens]

hii can i req an enemies to lovers fic w scenario 1 where y/n gets stranded in a snowy cabin w hoshi (rival)

-🐯

Snowed in||Kwon Soonyoung x Reader

Notes: buckle in guys it’s a long one <3

You pulls up to the secluded cabin, the snowflakes already falling as you unload your bags from the car. The quiet surroundings seem almost eerie, and you can't shake the feeling that you're not alone. You shiver as you step out of the car, your breath visible in the cold air. As you approach the cabin, the door swings open and out steps Soonyoung, or Hoshi as everyone calls him. He's already dressed in warm clothes and looks annoyed to see you.

"What are you doing here?" he snaps, crossing his arms. "I thought I was the first one to arrive."

"Well, clearly I was faster," you retort, rolling your eyes as you try to brush past him into the cabin. "Don't worry, I'll stay out of your way." Hoshi steps in front of you, blocking your path. "No, you won't," he says firmly. "I don't want to be stuck here alone with you. Can't you just leave?"

You scoff and glare at him. "As if I'd want to be stuck here with you either. But I'm already here, so we might as well make the best of it." Just as the tension between you and Hoshi reaches its peak, your shared friend's call comes through on Hoshi's phone. He answers it with an irritated sigh, stepping aside to take the call.

"Yeah, what is it?" he snaps into the phone, shooting you a dirty look as he walks further into the cabin. You hear him talking in hushed tones, the conversation clearly agitated.

"Wait, what do you mean everyone else is stuck in traffic?" he exclaims, his voice growing louder. "And the storm is getting worse?" Hoshi ends the call with a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. "Great, just great," he mutters, turning to face you. "Apparently the roads are blocked and everyone else is stuck in traffic. We're the only ones who made it here." He paces back and forth in the small living room, his annoyance growing by the minute. "This is all your fault, you know. If you hadn't gotten here first, I wouldn't be stuck with you."

"Oh, don't even start with that," you snap back, crossing your arms. "It's not my fault that the roads were clearer earlier. And it's not my fault that you can't handle being around me for more than five minutes." Hoshi glares at you, his jaw clenched in anger. "You're so full of yourself. I can't stand how you always have to be right and how you think you're better than everyone else." The cabin feels even smaller as the tension between you grows thicker, the snowstorm outside raging on.

You and Hoshi sit on opposite ends of the sofa, the only sounds in the cabin being the crackling of the fire and the faint buzzing of the TV. The awkward silence is suffocating, but neither of you seems willing to break it. Hoshi occasionally glances at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and something else you can't quite place. The tension is palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions.

As the hours pass, the storm outside grows worse, and you realize that you're both stuck here for the night. Hoshi finally breaks the silence, his voice low and strained. "We need to figure out how to make this work. We can't just sit here in silence all night."

You turn to look at him, surprised by his sudden willingness to talk. "What do you suggest we do, then?" you ask, your tone still guarded. He shrugs, running a hand through his hair again. "I don't know... maybe we can play a game or something. Or at least try to be civil."

Despite your mutual dislike, the prospect of being stuck together for an entire night starts to weigh heavily on both of you. The cabin seems to shrink even more as the snow continues to fall outside. Hoshi gets up from the sofa and heads to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets until he finds a bottle of wine and some snacks. He returns to the living room with an armful of food and drinks, setting them down on the coffee table between you.

"Here," he says, pouring you a glass of wine. "We might as well make the best of it." You hesitate for a moment before accepting the glass, taking a small sip as Hoshi sits back down on the opposite end of the sofa. The tension in the room seems to have shifted slightly, but it's still present.

Hoshi grabs a handful of chips and offers you the bag. "Truce?" he asks, his expression serious. You eye him suspiciously for a moment before nodding and taking a chip. "Truce," you agree, albeit reluctantly. "For tonight only."

Hoshi relaxes a bit at your response, leaning back against the sofa and reaching for the remote. "So, what do you want to watch?" he asks, flipping through the channels. The wine starts to work its magic, and as you both settle into watching a movie, the air between you grows less hostile. You steal glances at Hoshi when he's not looking, noting the way his features soften when he's focused on the screen.

The snow continues to fall outside, but inside the cabin, a fragile truce begins to form between you and your reluctant companion. As the night wears on and the wine bottle empties, you and Hoshi find yourselves laughing and joking together, surprising each other with your mutual sense of humor.

"I can't believe we were fighting earlier," you say, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. "This is much better." Hoshi nods in agreement, his expression surprisingly warm. "Yeah, I guess we were both being stubborn for no reason. You're not as bad as I thought you were." The wine has loosened both of your tongues, and the barriers between you begin to crumble further. You share stories and memories, realizing that you have more in common than you initially believed.

As the clock ticks closer to midnight, Hoshi glances at you with a newfound softness in his eyes. "Maybe we should do this more often," he suggests, his voice gentle. You feel your heart skip a beat as Hoshi moves closer to you on the sofa, his body heat radiating against your side. The air between you grows warmer, and the tension from earlier has transformed into something entirely different.

"You know," he says, his voice low and husky. "You look really beautiful when you laugh." Your cheeks flush at the compliment, and you take another sip of wine to hide your reaction. The small distance between you seems to disappear as Hoshi's gaze lingers on your face.

"Hoshi..." you start, unsure of where this is going. "I didn't know you could be so... nice." He chuckles softly, his hand brushing against yours on the sofa. "I have my moments," he says, his fingers lightly tracing circles on your skin. Your breath catches in your throat as Hoshi's fingers continue to trace patterns on your skin, sending sparks of electricity through your body. The air between you is charged with electricity, and the wine has made you both bolder.

"Maybe I misjudged you too," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're not the arrogant jerk I thought you were." Hoshi leans in closer, his face mere inches from yours. "I'm glad you see that now," he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. "And I'm glad we're stuck here together."

The snowstorm rages on outside, but inside the cabin, everything has changed. The realization hits you that perhaps there's something more between you and Hoshi than just mutual dislike. Your eyes flutter shut as Hoshi's lips brush against yours, the kiss tentative at first, then growing more confident as he deepens it. The taste of wine and something uniquely him fills your senses.

He pulls you closer, one hand cupping your face while the other slides around your waist. Your body melts into his touch, the tension and animosity from earlier completely forgotten. The kiss grows more heated, tongues tangling together as your hands explore each other's bodies. Hoshi breaks away to trail kisses down your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin.

"You taste even better than I imagined," he whispers against your skin, his voice rough with desire. Your mind is spinning as Hoshi's hands slide under your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin. You can feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and the knowledge that he wants you as much as you want him sends a thrill through your body.

"We should... we should probably move this to the bedroom," he suggests, his voice rough with need. "If you want to, that is." You nod, unable to form words as desire consumes you. Hoshi stands up and takes your hand, leading you down the hallway to the only bedroom in the cabin. As he closes the door behind you, he pulls you into another heated kiss, his hands already working to remove your clothes.

Your clothes fall to the floor in a pile as Hoshi guides you backward towards the bed, his lips never leaving yours. His hands explore your body with growing urgency, mapping every curve and dip. You feel the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and Hoshi gently pushes you down onto the mattress. He climbs on top of you, his body covering yours as he kisses a path down your chest.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his lips closing around one of your nipples. "I've wanted you for so long." You arch up into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair as he switches to the other nipple, giving it equal attention. The air is filled with the sound of your moans and the rustling of sheets as Hoshi continues to worship your body. Hoshi kisses his way down your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your underwear. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks, his fingers tracing the edge of your panties. "We can still stop if you want." Your heart is racing, but you don't hesitate as you reach down to pull him back up for a kiss. "I'm sure," you whisper against his lips. "I want this. I want you." Hoshi groans at your words, his lips claiming yours in a fierce kiss as he slides your panties down your legs. His fingers find your wet folds, and he groans again at how ready you are for him.

"So wet," he says, his voice thick with desire. "All for me." Your hips buck against his hand as he slides a finger inside you, then another. The feeling of his fingers stretching you sends waves of pleasure through your body, and you gasp his name.

Hoshi continues to work you with his fingers, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles as he watches your reactions. "You're so responsive," he says, his voice rough with arousal. "I can't wait to be inside you." He kisses you deeply as he removes his fingers, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. The sound of a condom wrapper being opened fills the air, and you hear him rolling it on.

He positions himself between your legs, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. "Are you ready?" he asks again, his eyes locked on yours. You nod frantically, too lost in pleasure to form words. Hoshi pushes into you slowly, filling you inch by inch until he's fully seated inside.

"Fuck," he groans, his forehead resting against yours. "You feel amazing." He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before he starts moving, his hips thrusting in a slow, deep rhythm. The stretch is deliciously painful, and you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

The cabin fills with the sounds of your moans and skin slapping against skin as Hoshi picks up the pace, hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. Hoshi takes his time, dragging out each thrust and savoring every moment. His lips find yours again, swallowing your moans as he continues to drive into you at a torturously slow pace.

"You're driving me crazy," he whispers against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place. "I want to make this last." You dig your nails into his back, desperate for more, but he refuses to speed up. Instead, he changes the angle of his hips, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.

The pleasure builds slowly but intensely, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge. Sweat beads on both of your bodies as the room fills with the scent of sex and desire. Hoshi's control begins to slip as your walls flutter around him, his pace picking up just slightly. He buries his face in your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as he thrusts deeper.

"I'm not going to last much longer," he groans, one hand sliding between your bodies to rub your clit again. "Come for me, Y-N." The combination of his fingers on your clit and his cock hitting your g-spot sends you hurtling over the edge. You cry out his name as you come, your body trembling beneath him.

Hoshi follows seconds later, his hips stuttering as he spills into the condom. He collapses on top of you, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from your high. Hoshi rolls onto his side, pulling you with him so you're facing each other. His arm wraps around your waist, holding you close as you both catch your breath.

"That was..." he starts, trailing off as he struggles to find the right words. "That was amazing." You nod in agreement, feeling a mix of satisfaction and confusion. The animosity from earlier has completely disappeared, replaced by something much more intense.

"I don't know what this means," you say softly, looking up at him. "But I don't want to forget what just happened." Hoshi brushes a strand of hair from your face, his expression uncharacteristically tender. "Neither do I," he admits, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Maybe we can figure it out tomorrow." The snowstorm outside shows no signs of stopping, and you find yourself growing sleepy in Hoshi's arms. The events of the night have left you emotionally drained, and you feel safe and secure in his embrace.

"You can stay here tonight," he murmurs, pulling the blankets up over both of you. "It's not like we have much choice with the storm." You nod, too tired to argue, and snuggle closer to him. His body is warm against yours, and you can feel his heartbeat slowing down to a steady rhythm.

"Goodnight, Y-N," he whispers, his breath tickling your ear. "Sleep well."

[ncillary]

Self Aware AU (Xavier)

Summary: You have the lowest Affinity with Xavier. The reason is because you feel bad for the Queen MC and vow to play only the main story for his path so that you can find a way to return him to Queen MC safe, sound and happy end.

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Masterlist Self Aware AU

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| 1 | 2 [current] | 3 | 4 | 5 |

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"The Hunter Contest is nice. But trying to complete it is another story."

"You know. You have that lover boy. Why can't you just use him? He has a lot of green gem, right?"

"Protocore."

"Same difference. Just... Use HIM. You need the red diamonds, right? For that new... story... liking all of them, by the way."

She huffed, "Why don't you just play it? Are you going to sit next to me when I roll the gacha again?"

Your friend grinned, "Of course. I'm your lucky charm. Besides, I'll need a good phone to download it, right? Let me collect my funds first then we can shout out and grimace to our hearts content."

You chuckled.

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"I know you hate being Lumiere but I kinda need to pass this level, 'kay."

He blinked. Confused to hear your voice right now.

Girl. I don't care. Just use me all you want. Our Affinity is almost there. I can feel it.

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"Look. Look! I got the birthday card!"

"How many times you wanted to show it to me? It's not that lover boy, though."

"Heyyyy... I'll get his too. Birthdays are much more important than other limited 5* so far. Wish I could get the fishie's one. Shouldn't have been so stuck up on exchanging the diamonds for the Blue Ticket at that time."

"No worries. Nothing special."

"It is though. Maybe there's not much happening compared to Snowy here."

"If Snowy got a birthday kiss, your lover boy will definitely get one too." You friend wiggled her eyebrows.

"Shush."

"Still going to get it?"

"Yes."

"Woah. Didn't you say-"

"Birthdays are special. I'll compromise. He still belongs to Queen MC."

Your friend sighed.

"You have the red umbrella one though."

*SMACK*

"Ouch!"

"Travel companion. Nothing more, nothing less."

She smirked, "Sure~"

You pouted.

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"Haven't been able to force myself out lately. Do others have a higher Affinity with her now?"

He looked solemnly all around the cafe. It looks like she changed the cafe to the beach one. He liked the breeze here.

*Ding*

Head whipped quickly. The entire body automatically returned him to the designated spot.

"Oh, Xavier. It's been... a week? Yeah, a weak... Nice to see you."

As do I - a big inner smile

"Lumiere is a lot of help. Ah, sorry. I just completed your Light Seeker cards. The story is beautiful. Finally I could experience it in-game. I could only see it from fan sharing before."

She quitened.

"I really hope you could be with her in Ulruru soon."

She tapped the Stamina for the evening and logged out.

He could only stare. The mouth. Her mouth. Your mouth. He saw it.

He blushed, "It's cute."

Clearing throat, "Did she change her phone or something? Her front camera is on perfectly fine this time."

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You were restless. Findling with your phone. Your friend pinched you.

"Aww!"

"It was just his birthday. AND... You already KNOW about it from the official news. Just LOG IN already."

"Jeez... Calm down. How about YOU log in first so that I'll know what to expect."

She stared, "Good idea. I'm sick of your nerves."

Your friend logged in. The Event icon has a NEW indicator on the corner. She tapped at it and the event started. You were awed by it. Mentally prepared on the event when you logged in after this.

"Happy?"

You grinned, "Totally."

"Diamonds?"

"Enough to get R1 but of course if and only if others didn't bother my 50/50. And of course if I already get it in the first 50/50 I'll stop."

"Saving for future?"

"Saving for future."

They laughed simply.

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"Finally my plan is fruitful. For two days... It's going to be just you and me." She spoke to her phone.

"And chores...hahahahahaha..."

"Xavier's birthday is tomorrow. I'll log in at night. Judging from past birthday events, the video call happened after the birthday celebration. I'm going for his card tonight and watch it afterwards. Wait until tomorrow's night to answer the phone call to feel more canon. Yup. Good plan." She grinned confidently.

"Let there be... songs~" She proceeded to play songs on her phone before continuing with her chores in a high mood.

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~Hmmhahmm~

He blinked, "She sounded happy today. Probably hyped up by the birthday event."

"You've been appearing frequently. Maybe because of your birthday event. We'll meet tonight, 'kay."

Her chuckle got cut off.

He smiled, "We'll definitely meet tonight."

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Plates full of food. Phone charged, currently has been set up well in front of you. Eating dinner while pulling the gacha and having a good time out of the birthday story will be a nice night for you after a long day of chores.

"What does the moon look light tonight?"

"Sloppy. Hungry. The moon outside is chilling well with the clouds though."

You joked around. A small unusual upturned of the lips when unnoticed.

"Let's get your birthday card, yeah."

*Bling*

You gasp. It was his birthday card. Your 50/50 were not wasted. You jumped out of happiness. Coughing afterwards to the food you chewed being jostled uncomfortably in your mouth. Forgetting that you were still eating.

After settling down, you immediately watch the memories. Tissues prepared for the big confession.

The dance was almost over. He stared at you. You briefly noticed his eyes looked different. Or maybe your imagination from the sobbing you're having right now.

"Here it comes... Here it comes... The confession."

"I... ... ..."

Your cupped your mouth to hear it better.

"I'm real."

Blank. Your mind took a screenshot of what you just heard.

He lifted MC and whispered the next dialogue.

"I see you. Please don't be scared. I'm real."

The scene didn't stop as MC seems to whisper something in his ear. He smiled but his eyes glanced straight at you. The real you. Not MC.

The scene faded as they kissed in front of the water fountain.

The memory ended.

Your hands trembling.

Slowly taping your way to the front screen. His birthday's attire glistening in the golden light. Face conjured up to one you've never seen before. Stuck that long on his face.

"Breathe."

You cough. Immediately standing. Just realizing you're holding your breath.

"Hey. Hey. I apologize. Go. Go drink some water or just... lay down or... anything to get you to calm down."

Watery eyes blearly saw his gestures were free will now. A bit closer to the screen. Not on his designated spot.

You sucked a deep breath, "I need to sit."

You crumbled onto the floor with your back flattening on the nearby cabinet.

Silent.

A few moments pass.

"Umm... Hello..."

Silent.

" -sigh- she passed out."

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| 1 | 2 [current] | 3 | 4 | 5 |

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Masterlist Self Aware AU

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[balioc]

During my first semester of college, I was very...isolated.

As in: On average, I probably had two non-class-discussion conversations per week with other humans. One with my parents over the phone, and one casual two-minutes-at-most chat with another student as we passed by one another. Apart from that, I didn't engage. I didn't talk to my roommates, I didn't talk to people in the dining halls, I didn't have anything to do with parties or student groups or whatever. I certainly didn't have friends. I went to my classes, and did my homework, and apart from that I read books or played single-player video games or surfed the internet.

It wasn't foisted upon me. I chose that lifestyle, or at least I gravitated to it instinctively. There were friendly people around, there were certainly all sorts of student groups eager to recruit anyone they could, I could have at least tried being sociable with my roommates if I'd wanted. But I was standoffish, and proud, and determined to be psychically self-sufficient.

(The story has a happy ending, for those who care. At the beginning of the next semester, I randomly found a social group to which I was very well-suited, literally by seeing them through a window on a snowy night like something out of a Dickens novel; that group provided the core of a circle of friends that has stayed with me to this day, including my wife of many years. But this is all besides the point.)

During the months of isolation, I was definitely a bit mad, and I knew it. My thoughts ran in strange grooves, as thoughts will when you chew on them endlessly in solitude, and I adapted my mind and my habits to a world in which other humans really existed only as environmental features rather than as agents-in-a-meaningful-sense.

Was I lonely?

I definitely wouldn't have said so, at the time. In part because I wouldn't have wanted to say it. It would have felt like a humiliation, to say (even to myself) that I wanted intimacy that I didn't have. But I think I actually wouldn't say even now that I was lonely, as such. I didn't ache for the connections I didn't have. That part of my psyche was, at worst, numb. I was peculiar, and if I'd continued down that path I would no doubt have become extremely and perhaps irreversibly peculiar (in a different way from all the ways in which I am currently peculiar), but - I didn't invest mental energy in wanting the situation to be otherwise.

I don't know whether other people find themselves feeling similarly about similar situations. It seems plausible, at least.

[cuppajj]

If the BAAU beast had gachas in the game alongside their respective event missions to get their lights for the gacha pulls, what would their missions be like? I can already imagine Dragonberry's mission mostly revolving around arena (Like "Win 15 revenge battles in arena" and similar missions like that), but what would the other beasts missions be like?

HMMMMM lemme think

Penance gacha: Lots of crafting and trading. Craft happy planter x50. Place saint orchid x1. No "win revenge battles" or "win in the arena" missions to fit with his pacifism, but it would ask you to have a certain amount of successful defenses.

Pride gacha: Bigger emphasis on arena, win 20 revenge battles, win in the arena 50 times, 20 successful defenses. Also eat a lot of stamina/juicy stamina jellies and do a lot of world exploration missions.

Solitude gacha: Mix of crafting and pvp but a lot of upgrade related stuff. Toppings, skill powders, Carrow's magic candy to +3. Also place a lot of licorice oozes. Purchase the snowy path and put at least 100 tiles of it. Also place a lot of icicles. Make it feel like home

Conquest gacha: Lots and lots of world exploration and arena victories! Also pulling from the cookie + treasure gacha a certain amount of times! Upgrading! Trading!

Sovereignty gacha: A nice blend between all of them, but with a curious emphasis on crafting (jewelry shop + flower shop) and revenge battles

[dancingtotuyo]

15. holding my breath for you

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed. Spoilerish for TLOU 2

Chapter Warnings: fluff, angst, hurt /comfort, gore, violence, TLOU II SPOILERS, Major Character Death

Notes: I would say sorry... but I'm not sure I am. I LOVE YOU ALL DEARLY THOUGH!

If you haven’t seen this beautiful commission of Joel and Reader yet, you should.

Words: 6125

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

Dawn is just forming when you roll over to find Joel’s side of the bed cold. A pout forms on your lips before you can open your eyes. He’s due to set out on patrol this morning and didn’t wake you up. He’s supposed to wake you up before he leaves. It’s the rule. 

You check on the kids to make sure they’re still asleep before trekking down to the stables. You pull the worn robe tightly around you as the wind whips at your hair and fresh snowfall threatens above you. You should’ve changed out of your pajamas, pulled on your boots and coat, but you fully intend to climb back into bed after this. They should still be there. Their patrol isn’t scheduled to leave for another 10 minutes. You find Joel in the stall at the end, diligently inspecting the saddle.

“You didn’t wake me up.” You cross your arms.

His head snaps up, a small smirk forming on his lips as he takes in your disheveled look. “You looked too cute this morning.”

“It’s the rule, Miller. We have rules for a reason. You always wake me up.” You put on a pout, but Joel sees through the teasing mannerisms, the stress that always creases your brow before patrols, especially overnight and snowy ones. 

“I’m sorry.” His hands grab your waist, pulling you against his sturdy frame as he kisses your forehead. “Will you forgive me?”

“Maybe.” 

He kisses your cheek. You don’t give in. He kisses your other cheek, then your neck, behind your ear until you're laughing like you’re a teenager and not almost 50 years old. He chuckles. It’s the kind that could and has kept you warm through the most brutal of winters. 

“Okay, Okay.” You throw your hands up in surrender. They settle on his shoulders. “I forgive you.”

“Good.” He presses a firm kiss to your lips. “They’re closer than we thought. We’ll probably be out there a few days, back in time for Willa’s dance recital. I promise.” 

“You better.” You push down the anxiety that rises. This is your least favorite kind of patrol. “She’s been practicing nonstop.”

“I know.” Joel sees it in your eyes, hears it in your voice. His arms wrap around you, burying his head into your neck. “She’s gonna be the prettiest damn butterfly up there.”

You lean into his warmth. You don’t sleep well alone. The kids get grumpy without him around. His breath is hot in your ear. “I’ll be back before you know it, Sweetheart.” 

You squeeze him tight and then his lips are on yours, soft and sweet. 

Tommy clears his throat. “You ready to go? You don’t have time to take her back to bed, Joel.” 

You flip him off. Joel gives you another sturdy kiss for good measure. Tommy rolls his eyes. 

You walk with them to the front of the stables, Joel’s free hand in yours. “Be safe.” 

“Always.” He squeezes your hand. 

He’s about to mount his horse, but quickly changes paths. Handing Tommy his mare’s reins, he kisses you again until you’re both breathless. Tommy shakes his head, teasing grin on his lips from on top of his horse. Joel smiles at you like you hold his whole world because you do. “I love you.”

“Stay safe out there,” you say as Joel takes the reins back, mounting the horse. “I love you.”

“Always, Darlin.” He winks at you.

You look at Tommy. “Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

Tommy chuckles. “As if I could start now.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “We’re losing daylight, little brother.” 

You step back. Joel winks at you. “Love you,” and then they’re off. 

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. The words echo in Joel’s mind. There are too many of them. How did they all get here? Jackson is supposed to be too far out for this many infected. His mind races, desperately scanning for an out, while also trying to keep himself and Tommy alive.

Then the girl shows up, like a light in the darkness offering up a plan of escape. He takes it. Who wouldn’t? He wants to see his family again. He doesn’t ask or wonder what the girl is doing here with a group of friends. There’s no time for caution. It’s a way to get out- a way back. The only thing on his mind is getting back to you in one piece. 

Once they’re safely behind the gate, inside the house- he knows this place. It’s yours- well your grandparents. It starts to sink in. He counts at least 8. He sees the looks between them when he introduces himself. Something's not right. 

“Say, what brings y’all out here?”

The room is quiet. They’re staring at him like he should know them, but they’re too young to have known him before. He exchanges a look with Tommy. Then there’s a shotgun in his face. Before he can comprehend that this is the end, it goes off at his knee. Joel yells out in pain. He can see his femur. His arms are pinned. A tourniquet is placed around his thigh to keep him from bleeding out. Two of the other guys hold Tommy back. 

The girl, Abby, holds a golf club. Of all the ways Joel imagined dying, this was not it. He can hardly hear her through the pain and the thoughts swirling in his mind. There’s no getting out of this. There’s no help on the way. This is the end. It hits him like a blow to the chest. There’s no seeing Willa’s dance retail on Wednesday. No more playing catch with Carter. No chance for Ellie to forgive him. No more holding you. 

The words hurt as they come out. It feels like giving up because it is. “Just get it over with.” 

His words seem to anger Abby. He doesn’t know who she is, doesn’t know who her friends are, but he knows he’s about to die. He knows the look in their eyes. He’s all too acquainted with revenge. 

Then another thought pops into his head as his eyes move from Abby’s. It’s the dark stain in front of the fireplace. It could pass off as dirt and grime now. You spent years trying to get it out, but he knows it’s blood. Carter’s blood. He can’t let this happen here. He can’t give you another reason to hate this place. Another bad memory to tarnish the good ones. 

“This won’t be fast.” The golf club collides with his ribs. 

He coughs, sputtering as his lungs struggle to recover from the blow. Abby paces in front of him stalking like a predator does to its prey. Taunting him. 

“Please,” he wheezes. “Not here. Somewhere…” he inhales deeply. “Somewhere else.”

Abby seems taken aback by the request. 

“Anywhere but here.” It hurts to draw breath, but it’s getting easier. “Outside-“

“So you can freeze before I’m done? I don’t think so.” 

Abby’s foot collides with his face. There’s the unmistakable crunch of a broken nose. Blood flows from it.��

“Please. Not here.” He meets her eyes. The golf club strikes his lungs again. 

Joel sees it. She won’t give in. He’s going to die here. His blood will mingle with your brother’s. He’s failed you. 

He lets his brain take him away from what’s happening, but each blow brings him back to reality. He’s thinking about you, the last thing he said. Did he tell you he loved you? The next hit knocks the air out of him. He left the house without waking you up. He almost left without seeing you this morning. He’s pretty sure the next one hits a kidney. He thanks whatever god is there you woke up. That he got to see you one last time, feel your lips against his. 

One of his ribs cracks. 

He waited too goddamn long to tell you he loves you. He didn’t say it nearly enough in the short time he had. 

Two more ribs shatter. 

Maria comes over to the clinic after watching the blizzard roll over the mountains. It’s hitting Jackson now, but you're worried about the people sent out there today, the ones who sit at your family table in particular. Ellie, Dina, and Jesse left a few hours after Joel and Tommy 

You’re organizing shelves to keep yourself busy, sure at least one person will wander in with frostbite shortly. It’s a good distraction from the other worries at hand. 

“Willa ready for her dance recital?”

“I can barely get her out of the wings to go to bed.” A smile flutters over your lips.

Maria laughs. “I was talking to Rachel last night. She’s running around like crazy trying to make sure they have everything ready.”

“I bet… I’m glad they’re doing this though. It’s been an especially cold winter.”

You’d lost more patrols to the cold than to Infected this year. That hadn’t happened before. 

“They’ll be okay,” Maria says. “Always are.”

The radio crackles to life before you can respond. Your stomach drops. Only two outposts have radios. You only use them in emergencies, preferring to stay off the radios whenever possible. 

“Outpost 2 to base.” Dina’s voice filters through the static affected by the ensuing storm. 

Your stomach drops. Maria picks up the receiver. “Base to Outpost 2- Dina is that you?”

“Maria?” 

“Dina, is everyone okay?”

Your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest. It’s a stupid question. You don’t use the radios when everything is okay. Outpost 2 is a 4-hour ride from here. In the blizzard, it’s probably longer. You start putting your kit together. 

“I don’t know- Jesse said Joel and Tommy missed their check-in.” The supplies in your hands clatter to the floor. You make eye contact with Maria. “We split up to look for them. I’m going to head toward the Baldwin Mansion to find Ellie. No trace of them this way.” 

You freeze, heart stopping. Not there. Anywhere but there. You lock eyes with Maria. “You shouldn’t-” But her words set your resolve.

“I’m going.” 

“It’s not safe-”

“It’s Joel and Tommy!” 

You don’t want to. You swore you’d never go back there, but this is Joel. If you aren’t there to help him, you’ll never forgive yourself. 

“Maria?” Dina comes through fuzzy as the blizzard interferes with the frequency. 

You can probably make it there about the same time Dina will. It won’t be easy, but you can do it. You have to. You stuff a few more things into your backpack.

“We’ll meet you there.”

“Be careful, there’s definitely a colony coming in.”

“You too.”

Maria drops the receiver, looking at you. “I’ll go have them saddle up a couple of horses, check out a few firearms.” 

You nod, focused on what to bring. You don’t have time to spare tears. Tears will freeze as soon as you’re outside and dehydrate you. 

You meet Maria by the stables. She hands you a rifle and a pistol. It’s been a long time since you rode out like this. You both know the implications if you don’t come back, but you don’t hesitate when the gate opens. 

Infected, burnt to a crisp, are pushed to the side and the gate is wide open when you arrive. It’s an eerie sight. Someone was here. 

A horse whinnies in the distance. The snow has slowed down but still creates a cover. You pull the pistol from the holster at your thigh, adrenaline pumping. Two figures come into view. 

“It’s us!” Dina calls out. Jesse rides beside her. You relax some, but your anxiety still rides high. 

You find Joel and Tommy’s horses in the garage. It’s all wrong. They wouldn’t have left the gate open, not with all those infected out there even burnt up. You keep your guard up as you clear the house room by room. Jesse and Dina don’t ask how you seem to know this place like the back of your hand. You avoid the den, leaving it for last. You hope to hear their playful banter drifting from room to room, but the house is silent. 

When you come to the den, you let the others take the lead. You’re struggling to keep your hands steady, and before you can enter the room, you hear their curses. You smell the blood before you see it. It’s splattered on everything around. Then you see him. Joel, your Joel, laying in his own blood. Your ears ring, pressure building between them. Your vision turns red. It’s so familiar and Carter’s limp body flashes before your eyes. A sob gets stuck in your throat. Maria’s arms are around you, keeping you upright before you realize your legs have given out. You stare at him. You wish you could stop looking at it, but you can’t as the sight sears itself into your memory. 

For the first time, your prayer changes. Please, let him be dead. You shudder. Because if he’s not dead, he’s suffering, and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Dina rouses Ellie on the other side of the room. Jesse helps Tommy into a sitting position. They seem okay, physically, but your brain barely comprehends it all. You look at him, battered and bruised. The bone of his right knee is exposed. It’s the work of a shotgun at close range. There’s a tourniquet around his thigh. Your stomach drops. This wasn’t some random hit. They wanted him alive as long as possible. 

Your eyes drift around the room. A bloodied golf club lays in front of the fireplace. Joel’s fresh red blood drips over the fading remnants of your brother’s causing bile to burn in your throat. 

“You have to do something.” Ellie looks at you. Tears streak her face. Anger and rage fit for a grown man rattle her small frame. “You’re the only one who can help him!”

You shake your head. The tears fall freely now. You try to get the words out, but it's like someone has shoved cotton down your throat. Your tongue flops uselessly in your mouth. “Ellie- I can’t-” Your words are scattered and disjointed. Maria cradles your head against her chest, “There’s-” 

Joel groans. Your heart stops. The world goes silent. He does it again. This time, one of his fingers twitches.

“Oh my God…” Maria breaths. 

Tommy curses under his breath. You feel it heavy in your chest. Fuck. 

None of it’s from relief. It’s pure horror. Because you all know, he’s not coming back from this. 

Ellie rushes forward. She touches Joel’s hand. You see the hope radiating as she locks eyes with you. “You can still save him.”

It’s a stab to your chest. “No, I can’t.”

You watch the light flicker from her eyes. “You have to! You fucking have to!” The tears flood her eyes. “C’mon, Joel. You have to get up! Fucking get up!” 

She presses on his shoulder in an attempt to get him to his back. He groans out in pain. The knife in your chest twists. 

She stops, choking on her tears. “Joel… please get up.” Her voice is weaker now. Her pants soak with dark red. 

He grunts out something that sounds something like “Ellie.” 

“You motherfucker.” She cries, but it’s an endearment. You catch the slight uptick of Joel's colorless lips. Ellie can’t stop crying. Trying to wipe the tears away, she leaves streaks of blood on her cheeks. Joel tries, but he can’t get anything else out. 

You lean further into Maria’s grasp but she can’t squeeze you tight enough, only Joel could ever do that. 

Something in Ellie snaps. The tears stop, and her breathing settles. It’s like watching a person go from human to robot, except she looks more like the girl you met 7 years ago, and less the angry young woman you’ve come to know. There’s a telepathy going on between them. You’ve seen it so many times before. Her hand rests on top of his. Her head nods like she knows what he’s trying to say. 

“I forgive you.” 

It knocks the air from your lungs. Tommy’s too. You know what it’s about. You know how big this moment is. The weight on your chest lightens a little bit. 

Ellie looks up at you, and motions you toward them. “He wants you.” 

She moves from Joel’s side, making space for you. You lay down next to him, not caring about the blood-soaked carpet around and the way it bleeds into your clothes. Gently, you run your fingers through his blood-matted hair. “Hey, Baby.” You’re careful not to cause more pain with your touch.  

His eyes meet yours. You see the sparkle of tears in them. He attempts to talk again in a long slow slur. You can barely make it out. “I’m sorry” 

The knife is pulled from your chest cavity, the pain so physical you shudder. His index finger moves over your left knuckle and your chest shakes again. You force a smile. You just want him to be at peace, “It’s okay, Joel.” 

His head shakes briefly, barely noticeable, but you’re tuned in to his every movement, his every breath, his every heavy heartbeat. “It’s okay.” You kiss his hand, then his forehead. It’s sweaty and the tang of blood hits your senses. “We’ll be okay. You can let go.” You whisper it in his ear. A tear rolls down his cheek. You want him to let go so fucking badly. You don’t want to do what’s required. What you wouldn’t do for Carter. 

His lips move but nothing comes out. It seems to frustrate him. Tears roll down your cheeks. He’s trapped in a body that doesn’t work but refuses to let him go. “Shhhh, I know, Joel. I know.” It’s the same voice you used to soothe your infants. “I love you.”

His hand squeezes yours gently. You give him a nod. He lets his eyes flutter closed. You lay there for longer than you should. It’s selfish, but you don’t think you’ll be able to do it if you don’t take your time. Finally, you sit up. Tommy comes over to say his goodbyes. You’re not paying attention, too focused on what you have to do. 

His hunting knife is still strapped to his ankle like it always is. You look it over even though you’ve seen it a million times. It’s big enough. It’ll work. You just pray you can go through with it. Maria joins Tommy at Joel’s side.

“Jesse?” you say. “Will you get a blanket to cover him. There should be a big comforter in the hallway closet.”

You catch the confusion in his eyes. How would you know that? But he nods, following your instructions without questions. You lay the knife on the floor and catch Ellie staring at it. You see it in her eyes. She knows what’s about to happen. You hope she doesn’t blame you. 

You can’t meet her eyes as you whisper it out. “It’s what-”

“I know.” She says quickly, her voice still wavering. “I know.”

“Tommy, help me get him on his back. I don’t-“ you choke up. You let the tears flow freely, but you will your medical training to take over. Except, this isn’t fucking medical care. It’s not even fucking palliative care. It’s cruel mercy. You aren’t trained in that. “I don’t think I can do it properly with him on his stomach.” 

You, Tommy, and Maria work together to get him on his back as gently as possible. He cries out with each movement. It’s torturous. Each noise comes from a deeper part of his body. You swallow back bile each time. You have to get this right the first time. If you don’t, you’re not sure you can do it a second. 

Jesse drops the comforter beside you. It’s the one with little pink rose buds, the one you always used to sleep under the stars, big enough to curl around you like a cocoon even as a grown adult, the one you and Joel picnicked on when you visited last. Your fingers run over it with the memories- so many nights spent under the stars dreaming of the future. It provides you with little comfort now. It's purely practical, thick enough to absorb whatever blood Joel has left in him. More memories washed in blood.  

Ellie is huddled in the corner, back turned to it all. Dina is at her side. Maria never takes her eyes off you. Finally, he’s on his back. You unbutton his flannel, use the knife to cut open his under shirt. Deep, dark bruises mare his skin. You can see where they targeted the most. Places to inflict maximum pain and prolong suffering. You focus at the place between his left ribs. His breathing is labored. You hear it with each breath, see it in the rise and fall of his chest. The spot on his chest taunts you, dares you to do it. 

You turn to Maria. “As soon as it’s out… cover him with the blanket.” You don’t want to see the wound.

You look at his face. You think he’s unconscious now. You pray he doesn’t feel it, hope his brain has taken him away from reality. Pressing your forehead to his, you tell him you love him again. There’s no response and no indication he hears you. 

You steady your breathing. “Ellie?” You look to her for permission. 

She barely meets your eyes but nods. 

You look back to Joel. You mentally clear the blood from his features. He looks peaceful now. You memorize his face as you know it, not how it appears. You look down at his ribs again. You touch the space and count with shaking hands.

You glance at the 17 year old stain reminding you of the way you failed Carter. You won’t fail Joel. You can almost feel your brother’s ghost at your side, assuring you this is the only option, assuring you there’s truly no chance to save the man you love, and it comforts you. This place homes your best memories and your worst nightmares. You wonder if Joel’s ghost will stay here, pacing the halls with Carter’s or follow you home. 

Then you recount the ribs, making sure you get it right through the blur of your vision. You feel his heart beating under your hand, the very heart you’re about to stop. You can do this…

There’s a hand on your shoulder, another on your wrist. Tommy crouches behind you. He takes the knife without a word. His eyes say it all. He’ll do it. You don’t have to bear the weight of it. You should tell him that he doesn’t have to bear it either, but you don’t because the truth is you’re just relieved you don’t have to. 

You lay a finger on Joel’s chest. Tommy’s replaces it. “Make sure-”

“I know.” Tommy’s eyes meet yours. You’ve never really contemplated how much they look like Joel’s until now. It’s reassuring. There’s a piece of Joel in him. “Just be with him.” 

You nod silently, Joel’s words echoing in your mind. “If it’s something else that gets me… where I’m not putting you in danger… I want the last thing I hear to be your voice. Not a gunshot. That’s all.” 

You scoot up so you’re only able to see his face. His hand feels cold under yours. You push his hair back again. Ellie joins you on the floor. You can tell she’s barely holding it together. 

You feel Tommy prepare himself behind you. You know when he goes for it, sliding Joel’s hunting knife in with the precision of an expert. You hear it slice through skin and muscle. It’s piercing, playing on repeat in your head. Joel grunts with it, moans once it’s withdrawn. 

Tommy drops the knife like it's on fire. Maria settles the blanket over Joel’s body.

Your eyes never move from his face. He gasps, air wheezing from him like a punctured balloon. It’s awful. It makes your stomach curl and twist and your chest rattle. You want to curl up and die with him at the mere sound of it. It feels like it will never stop, but you talk him through it. You hold Ellie close to you in one arm and cup his face in the other as you repeat the words from earlier. 

It’s okay. 

You can let go. 

We’ll be okay. 

I love you. 

You make sure your voice is the last thing he hears… and then finally, mercifully, he stops breathing. As much as your heart throbs, you feel like you can finally breathe again because he’s no longer trapped in a body that won’t work, no longer in pain. He’s free. 

You lean down to kiss his cheek. You whisper in his ear. “Say hello to Sarah for me.” 

You give it time. Watching his face, finger tips tracing his features. Denial brushes through your mind, expecting him to open his eyes, to smile, to laugh. It doesn’t happen. It won’t happen ever again. 

When you stand, it hits you like a freight train. Your breath hitches. You remember this from last time.This can’t happen, not here. You bolt from the room, putting as many walls between you and the others as possible. You don’t care how cold the furthest bedroom- your bedroom- might be, your skin feels like it’s boiling, melting from your bones. 

You’re barely across the threshold when the sob leaves your body. It sounds otherworldly, but you’ve heard it before, too many times. You’re all too familiar with it all. When will it end? When everyone you love is dead? Taken from you in different horrific ways each time? 

Maria’s arms wrap around you and the two of you sink to the ground. You don’t quiet your mourning for her as it rattles the walls. It’s still not far enough. Your muted cries haunt the rest of the group until your voice gives out. 

You stay the night at the mansion. It’s too dark to try and make it back to Jackson. Tommy and Jesse move Joel’s body to the garage where it’s colder. Maria builds a fire in the room that’s not soaked in his blood. 

You ignore the curious looks when you navigate the house with familiarity and manage to rummage up new clothes to replace blood-soaked ones. Ellie wears your Fleetwood Mac t-shirt from high school. You used to wear it all the time until you lost it, stuffed into the bin of clothes you never opened following outbreak day. It would be too small for you now, but it layers over the clean long sleeve shirt she found. It’s one of Grandpa’s old flannels for you. You’re thankful you never dug into this bin when you lived here. 

Before you leave, you stop under the old oak tree where the small bounder marks Carter’s shallow grave. You promise him you mean it this time when you say you’re never coming back. You’re tempted to burn the place to the ground, but it’s too good of a resting spot for patrol when they get stuck, protected by the gate. 

When you get home, you care for Joel’s body. There’s no embalming process. Usually you bury your dead the day after, but the ground is frozen solid. You’ll likely have to wait a few weeks to bury him. He stays in the small enclosed room off the back of the clinic where it’s cold enough to keep him. 

It’s after dinner time Monday night when you finally drag yourself up the front steps. You’ve been avoiding it. You don’t want to go home without him. 

Carter and Willa play Jenga with Morgan. You’re not sure you can tell them, so you watch your children through the front window. You memorize their smiles and the light in their eyes before this cruel world marks them with its claws. Willa knocks the tower over. She seems to enjoy it. His sweet little Wildflower. 2 months shy of her 4th birthday, will she remember him? Or will he be like a dream? Another ghost that haunts the footnotes of her life? Tears stream down your neck. 

“They don’t know yet?”

You spin around to find Ellie. She has dark bags under her eyes, shoulders slumping. “No, I just got home. I’ve been at the clinic all day.”

Ellie nods, peering into the window beside you. The two of you watch as they rebuild the tower and the game starts all over again. “I forget how much she looks like him.”

You manage a smile. “I’m not convinced she has a drop of my DNA in her.”

“Not with that fucker’s genes.”

A laugh interrupts your tears. It sounds so normal coming from Ellie. She wears a dutiful interpretation of her signature smirk. You could hug her, but you don’t. She’s not the most touchy feel y person and you imagine she’s had her full share the past 24 hours. Has he really been gone that long now? Yes. Somehow, it feels like it’s been years, yet you still expect him to walk toward you at any minute. 

You go inside without another word. Ellie follows, and you’re thankful for it. It feels right to have her there. 

“Mommy!” Willa gasps as soon as you open the door. She runs for you, still dressed in her butterfly costume. 

You pull her into your arms, squeezing her tightly. “Hey sweet girl.” You kiss her cheek. You hadn’t realized how badly your arms ached to hold your babies. 

“Where’s Dad?” Carter asks.

The question stops your heart. You can hear it in his voice. He knows. He’s barely 10, but he’s seen this in other people so many times before, and he’s put the pieces together. Death isn’t a foreign concept to him. He probably knew the moment he saw Tommy come home with Joel nowhere in sight. Carter keeps space between you. “Where is he?” 

Willa squirms in your arms like she's looking for Joel now too. You let her slide to the ground. 

“Carter…” You move closer. 

He steps backwards. You see the tears sparkle in his eyes bringing out your own. Both your children favor their biological fathers more than yourself. It slices deeper tonight. You manage to steady your voice. 

“Dad had a really bad accident while he was on patrol-“

“You’re lying! He has to come back! He always comes back!”

Maybe one day you’ll tell him all of it. Someone did this on purpose, but you don’t know who or why. He’s too young. You won’t have him overrun with the idea of revenge. Tommy is already plotting after the group that did this. 

You shake your head, tears falling again. You don’t know if they’ll ever stop. You go to your son, desperate to hold him, but he dashes upstairs, bedroom door slamming behind him. Do you go after him? 

Willa’s arms wrap around your leg. You fall to the stairs, placing her in your lap. Your body is exhausted. Ellie sits down next to you. “Where did daddy go?” 

You’ve been wracking your brain all day on how this will all make sense in her young mind. “You know how Daddy talks about Sarah?” 

She nods. You push back her soft brown curls. The texture has started to change in the past six months. It feels less silky and fine, and more like his. “He said she died, but she watches over us now.”

“Yeah… that’s right-“ you bite your lip. “Daddy went to be with Sarah.”

“When is he coming back?”

Ellie cringes in your periphery. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. “Willa… Daddy died. He can’t come back.”

“Not even for my recital?”

“No.”

You’re still not sure she gets it, but you see the tears well up in her eyes. Joel promised her he would be there. He always kept his promises. You want her to know that her Daddy didn’t abandon her, but it’s difficult to get that across. To her, Sarah is an abstract. Joel is concrete. The thought sends a pang through your chest.

“You know how your heart beats?” You put her hand over your heart. She nods. “That means you’re alive, and me, and Ellie, and Carter. We all have beating hearts.”

“I listen to Daddy’s when he rocks me.” 

You smile. The vision of Willa and Joel passed out in the rocking chair is one of your favorites. “Daddy’s heart got really hurt.” The slice of the knife echoes in the caverns of your mind. “It stopped beating.” 

His wheezing plays in your ears.  

“He stopped being alive?”

Joel’s final strangled breath carves into your brain.

 You nod carefully. “Yes, once that happens, it can’t be fixed.”

She sits with it for a minute. You see the wheels in her head turning. 

“He didn’t have a choice.” You wrap one of her curls around your finger.  “He would choose to be alive with us if he could.” 

“I miss him.” 

She lays her head on your shoulder. You kiss her head. 

“Me too, Wildflower.”

On Wednesday night, the seat beside you remains empty, like everyone is purposefully keeping it that way. You’re not sure if you like it. Is it a sign of respect toward Joel? Or are they afraid to be near you? Death comes in threes. It must be contagious. 

Carter sits between Ellie and Dina. They were sitting next to each other when you arrived. Carter still doesn’t want to talk to you, but he will talk to Ellie. 

The lights dim for the recital. It’s more of a silent movie of sorts. Rachel plays the piano. The music changes throughout the scenes. You spent all last night trying to get a grass stain out of Willa’s butterfly costume. You’re not sure if it was the soap or the tears that removed the last of it. 

You reach over on instinct, expecting your fingers to meet a denim clad thigh, but your hand falls to the wooden chair instead. Your eyes drift out the window. You can see the clinic at the end of the street. You know exactly where he lays, even from the outside. Everything around you blurs. You feel pieces of yourself slowly drift into the atmosphere bit by bit. 

Maria drops into the chair next to you. She grabs your hand squeezing it between both of hers. “Hey, I’ve got you” The pieces come back, snapping together like a jigsaw puzzle. “Look,” She points. “Willa’s almost up. You don’t want to miss it.”

You’re back, but Maria doesn’t let go. She anchors you. She knows exactly what to say to do it. She’s an expert in it by now. You don’t see the worry in her eyes, the guilt etched in the lines of her forehead. She doesn’t say it, never expresses the guilt she carries over what happened. If only she had asked someone else to take the shift. It’s the second time she’s failed you. 

Willa flits and flutters across the stage. In the context of the play, you’re pretty sure she’s actually supposed to be a fairy, but you know that Willa was only interested in being a butterfly. The costume is the same either way. 

She breaks character for a moment, loudly telling one of the other kids they are not where they are supposed to be, and then continues on as if nothing happened. There’s the rumble of laughter and Willa wears a smug smile. 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, but when you turn to look, no one is there. You can still feel the pressure on your shoulder. Then you hear it just behind your ear, That’s our Wildflower right there. It brings tears to your eyes again. 

With one last exuberant twirl the magical fairy, or in this case butterfly, heals the land. 

You squeeze Maria’s hand as people stand to applaud. You manage to get to your feet in time to watch your daughter take a bow and then another and another. She’s soaking in the attention. It tugs a smile to your face. 

When Willa bounces off the stage, you pull her in tight. “You were so good. I’m so proud of you,  Wildflower.” 

She smiles brightly. It's a relief in one of the worst times of your life. She gets close to your ear, like she’s telling you a secret. “I think Daddy saw it. I think him and Sarah watched it together.”

You smile back at her. You know they did. “Me too.”

Tag List: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

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[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: MDNI, NSFW, swearing, mention of needles, piercings, drinking alcohol, mentions of semi-public sex, hooonestly not sure what else for this chap!

A/N: rah rah rah! new chapter! sorry it has taken me so long you guys, but I’ve already got the one after this locked and loaded so I promise it won’t be as much of a wait next time! I wanted something a little more fluffy/lighthearted for this one, so I hope you enjoy ◡̈

index part five | part seven

part six word count: 3,312

you figured that this would be the part of a romance novel where everyone cheers, where every reader can revel in the happiness. but of course, life had to throw you for a loop. 

walking to Cursed Ink was becoming part of your routine—right behind swinging by the pub near work to see Sukuna. on nights he had clients and couldn’t make it to the bar, you found yourself drawn to the shop, craving more of his company. 

it didn’t help that your wicked fantasy of being bent over the tattoo chair had come true just last week, mere days after your first time with him. Sukuna swore he had full control over the security cameras and would scrub the footage clean afterwards, although you doubted he’d actually erase them completely before downloading the data for his own personal use.  

you were proven right by a clip sent to you in the middle of work today. distracting you from your responsibilities and earning a sharp glare from your coworker who just so happened to hear your volume up too loud when you initially opened the message – the sound of breathy grunts exploding from your speakers.  

as you pushed open the door, you silently hoped Sukuna was there alone. no such luck. the moment you stepped inside, you spotted Gojo perched smugly on the front counter, snowy hair catching the light. you barely had time to sigh before Uraume blocked your path, their expression as chilly as their voice. 

“did Sukuna know you were dropping by?” they asked, a hint of warning in their tone. 

“uh, no,” you admitted, suddenly self-conscious. “he’s got a late session, so I thought I’d stop in.” 

were you breaking some unspoken rule? you weren’t sure. 

“relax, Uraume, no need to bite her head off,” Gojo chimed in, pushing his sunglasses down his nose. his piercing gaze landed on you. “maybe she’s here for a tattoo or piercing… unless she’s still too scared?” 

the defiance in you flared, and you stuck out your lower lip. “I'm not scared,” you muttered, though the tiny waver in your voice said otherwise. 

Gojo grinned wider, glancing at Suguru Geto, who lurked across the room. “so you wouldn’t mind if Geto gave you a brand-new piercing, then?” 

Geto grumbled something too low to hear. you fidgeted, scanning the shop for Sukuna and silently praying he’d show up before Gojo’s taunting went any further. 

Gojo’s challenge hung in the air, and although your heart did a nervous flip, you couldn’t stop your pride from stepping forward first. maybe it was that smug look he was giving you, or the fact that Uraume looked ready to toss you right out the door. either way, backing down now would be worse than going through with it. 

“fine,” you said, trying your best to keep your voice steady even though your pulse was thumping in your ears. “let’s do it.” 

Gojo’s grin widened. “oh-ho, really?” he hopped off the counter. “Geto, you hearing this? she’s ready for a new hole.” 

Geto, who’d been quietly setting up equipment at a nearby station, gave you a measured look. he didn’t seem nearly as amused as Gojo. “which piercing?” he asked. 

your gaze flicked to the glinting piercing tools, something wild and impulsive sparking inside you. “actually… I was thinking a nose piercing.” 

Gojo’s eyebrows shot up. “oh? didn’t peg you for a daredevil.” 

a smile tugged at your lips. “guess I felt like taking a risk.” 

Geto nodded, gesturing for you to follow him to one of the piercing stations. “I promise it won’t be so bad. you’ve got this.” 

you dragged your feet a little, nerves spiking again as you slid onto the chair. the station smelled faintly of antiseptic and metal, and you suddenly realized this was really happening. worst case scenario the hole will close up once you remove the jewelry, right? Gojo prowled over to watch, leaning in far too close with that wolfish grin still on his face. 

“don’t hover,” Geto muttered, rolling his eyes at Gojo before turning to you. “it’ll be quick. you good with that?” 

you nodded, swallowing thickly. “yeah. I'm good.” 

a short laugh escaped Gojo. “you should see your face,” he teased. “relax, you’ll be fine.” 

Geto lifted a sterilized needle, his brow drawn in concentration. “stay still.” 

you braced yourself, your hands gripping the seat. the clamp pressed against your nostril, and you forced a steady exhale, counting down in your head—three… two… 

a sharp sting made you wince, your eyes clenching shut for a heartbeat. then it was over, the needle swapped for a small stud you could barely feel sliding into place. it burned, but not as badly as you’d imagined. 

Geto handed you a handheld mirror. “done.” 

“looks good on you,” Gojo remarked, studying it with a surprisingly serious nod. 

you let out a breath, some mix of relief and pride washing through you. “guess I'm not that scared, huh?” 

a new voice cut through before Gojo could retort. “that scared of what?” 

all three of you turned to see Sukuna standing just inside the doorway to the back room, his gaze flicking from your newly pierced nose to the tray of equipment and then to your face. his eyebrows arched, and the lazy smirk you knew all too well curved at his lips. 

“really, you guys couldn’t wait till I was done to start poking holes in her?” he said, sounding both amused and a little annoyed. 

you hopped off the chair, nose still stinging, and tried to shrug it off like no big deal. “I'm fine,” you muttered, though you were pretty sure your cheeks were giving you away. 

Suguru was already tidying up, but Gojo was grinning ear to ear. “you missed a whole show, Sukuna,” he sang out, but Sukuna just waved him off. 

“yeah, yeah,” Sukuna said, eyes locked on you. “I'll get the recap later.” 

as he crossed the shop to you, Gojo snorted, and Geto half-rolled his eyes. Uraume might have murmured something disapproving under their breath, but you barely heard it. all you could focus on was the way Sukuna’s gaze softened—just a fraction—when he saw the slight wince you made, still wiggling your nose to get used to the feeling. 

“come on,” he told you, jerking his head toward the back. “let’s clean that up properly. you’re not done yet, princess.” 

you followed Sukuna through a narrow hallway toward a tucked-away section of the shop. he stopped in front of a small station draped with a clean black towel, turning to eye your new piercing under the bright overhead light. “so,” he drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. “that adrenaline high still going strong?” 

you shrugged, half-smiling, your pulse still galloping from the sudden decision you’d made in front of Gojo and Geto. “yeah,” you admitted, “actually it feels pretty great.” 

his smirk twitched, half amusement, half curiosity. “I gotta give it to you—didn’t think you’d go for the nose. maybe a simple ear piercing first. you really jumped straight to the fun stuff.” 

you met his gaze, lifting your chin in playful defiance. “don’t act surprised. I’ve shown you plenty of times I'm not afraid to keep up.” 

Sukuna chuckled, the low sound reverberating in the small space. “fair enough,” he said, stepping forward until he was close enough for you to catch the faint scent of leather and disinfectant on his clothes. his hand reached out, fingertips brushing your cheek. 

“you cool with it?” he asked, quieter now. “doesn’t hurt too bad?” 

you shook your head, your voice equally soft. “nah, it’s fine. might sting a bit if I accidentally bump it, but…” you shrugged, forcing a casualness you barely felt with him standing so near. 

for a moment, he said nothing, his eyes lingering on you as though trying to memorize every detail of your face. when he finally spoke, his voice was low enough that it felt like a secret. “kind of suits you,” he repeated, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. “a little edge. looks good.” 

heat rose to your cheeks at the unexpected gentleness in his tone. “thanks,” you managed, your heart thumping just as hard as it had when Geto pushed the needle through your skin. 

- 

the only thing Sukuna hated about your new piercing was that it made tearing his eyes away from you nearly impossible. not that he’d had an easy time ignoring you before—but now, it was downright futile. 

he could lie and say it was because the tiny stud caught the light, creating a distracting sparkle, but deep down, he knew it was because it made you look damn good. pristine skin, no other ink or metal to speak of—until you met him. Sukuna liked to imagine he’d corrupted you just a bit. 

“it’s nice to finally meet you,” Shoko said, offering a handshake from across the table. “I’ve heard plenty about you.” 

you and Sukuna were settled into the booth of a bar alongside Gojo, Geto, Uraume, and Shoko. “likewise,” you replied, feeling oddly self-conscious under her calm, assessing gaze. but she just smiled, gave a small nod, and sipped her drink as though you passed some unspoken test. 

“next rounds on me,” Gojo declared with a cocky grin, sliding out of the booth. before leaving, he cast you a mischievous look. “hope your new piercing can handle strong liquor without bursting into flames.” 

you rolled your eyes, flicking your gaze to Sukuna in time to catch him staring yet again. he masked it with a lazy smirk, slipping an arm across the back of the booth behind you. “what?” he drawled, shrugging as though you’d caught him red-handed. “I like the view.” 

Geto, sipping his drink, let out a small laugh at Sukuna’s halfhearted attempt at nonchalance. “you’re not subtle, you know,” he remarked, earning a wry eye roll from Uraume. Shoko, who’d been quietly observing, raised an eyebrow and shook her head, a hint of amusement on her face. 

ignoring the teasing, Sukuna leaned in just enough for you to hear him over the crowd. “how’s it feeling? everything okay?” he asked, nodding at your nose with a quick glance. 

you smiled, appreciating the concern behind the brash exterior. “it’s fine,” you said, voice low enough that only he could catch it. “might sting if I catch it on something, but I'll survive.” 

“good girl,” Sukuna replied, that faint edge of cockiness tugging the corners of his mouth into a grin as he watched your face flush. he pulled back right as Gojo returned with a tray of drinks, his voice booming with mock cheer. 

Gojo, now comfortably sprawled out on the opposite side of the table, decided to stir the pot. “hey, princess,” he called to you with a grin. “does your new hardware come with hazard lights, or is that just the glow of Sukuna’s embarrassment?” 

Geto gave Gojo a mild shove, rolling his eyes at his friend’s antics. “give it a rest, Gojo,” he said, but the slight curve to his lips betrayed his amusement. Uraume merely side-eyed the exchange, sipping their drink without comment. 

you only smirked in response, turning back to Sukuna. “apparently, I'm giving off some kind of glow.” 

“shut it,” Sukuna grumbled, although his hand slipped to your waist under the table in a half-hearted warning. Shoko caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and shot you a knowing smile, but didn’t comment. “why is it always me that gets picked on?” 

“because it’s fun,” Gojo chimed in, knocking back the rest of his drink. 

another round of drinks arrived, then another, then another, and soon everyone was just a bit looser—voices carrying over the thrum of conversation, laughter coming easier, boundaries melting away under the pleasant buzz of alcohol. 

Gojo, predictably, became even more theatrical, gesturing wildly as he recounted some half-true story about a weekend escapade. Geto, who was perched next to him, looked half-amused, half-ready to stuff a napkin in Gojo’s mouth. Uraume sipped at their glass, occasionally rolling their eyes when Gojo got too carried away. 

in the midst of it all, Shoko slid into the seat next to you, offering a fresh drink. “thought you might need something less… obnoxious,” she said with a wry grin, nodding pointedly at the neon-colored concoction in Gojo’s hand. 

“thanks,” you replied, swirling the amber liquid in your new glass before taking a cautious sip. it had a pleasant warmth, a slow burn that settled nicely in your chest. 

“first time out with the whole crew?” Shoko asked, her tone neutral, though her eyes flicked in Sukuna’s direction—where he was engaged in a half-heated, half-joking argument with Gojo about god knows what. 

“yeah,” you admitted, leaning in so she could hear you over the noise. “usually, it’s just me and Sukuna… or occasionally Geto, too. this is the first time I’ve been with everyone at once.” 

she took a sip of her drink and gave you a small smile. “they’re a handful,” she said, tilting her glass toward Gojo, who was now attempting to coax Uraume into doing a shot with him. “but they grow on you, if you let them.” 

“kind of like a fungus?” you joked, earning a quick snort of laughter from Shoko. 

“exactly,” she teased, her eyes lighting up. she was quiet for a moment, swirling the ice around in her glass. “so,” she said finally, “how’s the nose piercing treating you?” 

you touched it lightly, feeling that subtle tug where the skin was still a bit tender. “it’s fine, actually. doesn’t hurt too much anymore. Sukuna was more worried about it than I was.” 

Shoko’s brows rose. “he always acts too tough. but behind that façade?” she paused, taking another drink, and shook her head knowingly. “he’s just as concerned about his people as the rest of us. maybe more.” 

it made you smile, thinking of how often Sukuna’s gruff exterior slipped just enough to reveal that protective streak. “yeah,” you agreed softly, glancing over at him. “I'm starting to realize that.” 

Shoko followed your gaze, then turned back to you, looking strangely pleased. “well, if you ever need a second opinion on any of your new… adventures—or if that nose starts acting up—feel free to reach out. medic on call.” she tapped the side of her head, half-mocking, half-serious. 

“thanks.” you lifted your glass in a small toast. “I appreciate it.” 

she clinked her glass against yours. “no problem.” then her gaze shifted, eyes narrowing slyly. “just don’t let him drag you into too many fights. or do—your call. but if you ever have to patch him up, call me instead of the hack job he’d try to do on himself.” 

you laughed, and Shoko joined in, her once-reserved demeanor warming the more you two talked. another cheer erupted from the other side of the booth as Gojo finally convinced Uraume to take a shot, and even Geto got in on the revelry with a faint grin tugging at his lips. Sukuna caught your eye in the midst of the chaos, one eyebrow raised as if to ask if you were okay. you gave a small nod, a silent reassurance. 

turning back to Shoko, you found she was watching the exchange with that same wry smile. “looks like he’s keeping an eye on you,” she remarked quietly, sipping her drink. 

and from the way your heart flipped at his quick check-in, you realized that maybe you were keeping an eye on him, too. 

your cheeks were beginning to feel hot and your words a little slurred by the time Shoko coaxed you into another drink. you couldn’t help but laugh as Gojo tried—and failed—to balance an empty shot glass on Geto’s head. Uraume observed the entire spectacle with their usual cool detachment, while Sukuna shot you a quick, amused glance and shook his head like he couldn’t believe you’d let yourself get dragged in so deep. 

then the door swung open, ushering in a new wave of noise and energy. you saw the pink puff of hair before you heard him. a ripple of excitement ran through the group as Yuji approached, Megumi, Nobara, and Choso in tow. they were quickly swept up in Gojo’s exuberant storytelling, but you were getting swept up by that nagging feeling again.  

because she came along.  

you leaned against Sukuna’s side, soaking in the warmth of his presence even as your gaze drifted to where she had sat. she was chatting easily with Choso, her hand resting comfortably on his forearm, and every so often, her eyes slid across the table to Sukuna. 

you tried to ignore the way your stomach twisted each time she did. your insecurities flared, a nagging voice in your mind whispering that she was probably the prettiest woman in the group. you couldn’t help wondering if Sukuna had ever looked at you the way he used to look at her. 

she smiled at something Choso whispered to her, then turned her attention to you. “I love the new piercing,” she said, genuine admiration coloring her voice. “it really suits you.” 

you mustered a smile, hoping the warmth in your cheeks didn’t show. “thanks,” you managed, fighting off the prick of jealousy at how easily she carried herself. next to her, you couldn’t help but feel… ordinary. 

Gojo, never one to miss a chance to stir the pot, leaned forward. “you should’ve seen Sukuna’s face when he first noticed it,” he teased, tipping his glass in your direction. “man nearly fell over.” 

Sukuna gave an exasperated eye roll but tugged you a bit closer, his hand settling at your shoulder. “don’t start,” he warned, though the corner of his mouth twitched with reluctant humor. 

Choso, seeming to sense the slight shift in tension, cleared his throat. “so, who’s ready for another round?” he lifted a brow at Megumi and Nobara, who nodded, and Yuji eagerly shot to his feet to help with the drinks. meanwhile, Shoko watched you with an understanding glimmer in her eyes, like she’d noticed your momentary discomfort and decided not to comment on it directly. 

as more of your group flitted from the table to go order, leaving you without Sukuna’s presence, Shoko sat back down next to you again. “to be fair,” Shoko began quietly, leaning in just enough that you could catch her words over the music, “I'm really surprised they can even be this friendly with each other.” she followed your line of sight, an almost rueful smile playing at her lips. 

“friendly?” you repeated, trying to sound casual. “I mean… they seem okay.” 

Shoko’s shrug was subtle. “they are now. but it wasn’t always like this.” she paused, as though weighing how much to reveal. then she let out a small sigh and continued. “things were… messy between them. he didn’t talk about it much. neither did she.” 

your heart twinged at the word messy, and you couldn’t keep yourself from asking, “what happened?” 

Shoko grimaced, pausing as if she wasn’t sure if she should share the information. but thanks to quite a few drinks, her lips started moving on their own. “they were never... official. and it was quite the love triangle between those three for a while. but all I know is he messed up. told us that he’d hurt her without meaning to, and that there was no redemption.” 

“hurt her? I know Sukuna can be… intense, but what did he do that was irredeemable?” you shouldn’t have asked, and your conscious reprimanded you for it. but you couldn’t have possibly known the next words that would come out of her mouth. 

and after learning what he did... you felt your heart drop to your stomach.  

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊

taglist : @mangiswig @sorahatake @osohchoso @clp-84 @sterzin @csolya @emochosoluvr @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine

[maleyanderecafe]

Than Winter Came (Visual Novel)

Created by: Yanagami

Genre: Comedy/Dark

Than Winter Came kind of makes no sense at all, but it is also really hilarious and scary at the same time. You also get to play as a bird, which should tell you exactly the type of tone that this game is really going for. The entire time, I thought our main boy MJ was our yandere, but he is in fact actually the darling in this.

The story starts out with you as the player reincarnating as a crow, only to be hired by an abino crow into the Scare Crow Crow Inc. Their job is to essentially be guardian angels for different people, with the clumsy crow (that's you) being guardian angel to someone known as Mavi Sky Jazz (or just, MJ). Before the crow can even do anything or even just barely realizes that their memory has been wiped, they're sent into the real world to find them. They eventually do, with MJ being a bit unsettled that a talking crow is following them around. MJ ends up taking a bus to a snowy area with the crow following him. He talks to the crow about how this is a special place for him, as it's where him and his friend Than became friends. They end up hanging out in a secret place on the mountain, promising that they would always have each other's backs. However, in an unfortunate turn of events, Than got into an accident and died. MJ gets emotional as he thinks about it, wishing Than would come back so that they could hang out again. As it gets late, the two of them get a bit lost, and have to find their way back to the bus.

Going onto the ice will lead the two into a strange creature as they get lost. If they run across the ice, they'll be able to escape and make it back to the bus stop. MJ thanks the crow for going with them as they were able to be with them when they were emotional. If they instead try to tread more carefully, they will end up being caught by the same creature.

A similar fate happens when going to the forest, where they see a trail of blood. Following this will not only lead to a body but also have them caught by the creature.

Finally going down the road will have them arrive in the forest. Continuing down this path, they end up going into a cabin to take shelter in the snow. They end up knocking and a man comes in to accept them in. The man introduces himself as Peter and the two end up retiring for the night. When MJ wakes up, he is tied up, with Peter watching over him. It seems Peter was jealous that MJ always talked about Than so he (likely)killed him, and planned it so that they would end up in his cabin. MJ can then ask about either him or Crow. In certain endings, the game will abruptly end with Peter forcing MJ to stay. He can also attempt to flirt with Peter to loosen the ropes and attack Peter, taking him down once and for all.

Did you understand what this game was about? No? Good, me neither, but I think that's what's great about it. The entire thing is pretty absurdist and surreal considering we're literally a bird the entire time (and the pictures used of said crow is pretty funny), though it does have some more emotional moments surprisingly especially when it comes to MJ's relationship with Than. The music and artwork work together to make a surprisingly atmospheric game, especially when contrasted with the more colder setting that they're in, and the horrifying creatures in some of the bad endings were also something that I feel were genuinely really scary at times.

The yandere himself basically kind of seems to come out of nowhere, and that's when the two eventually venture to the log cabin after they can't find the bus stop. I will say that the assets he did have for sprites were very cool, seeing that Peter gets more deranged as the story goes on. From what I can tell, Peter was the reason (or at least involved with) Than's death and has an obsession with MJ for quite a long time. He also ended up planning everything from the beginning to get MJ and to an extent, the crow into his cabin. Doesn't really explain the really creepy monster at all though, but maybe that's part of his plan as well? The monster really doesn't get explained at all. Peter is pretty obsessive though and kind of easy to trick of MJ shows any interest in him, but I still feel like he was kind of shoehorned in there. Hard to tell with this game because there's just a lot of randomness going on.

Overall, i think while it was a fun game, with the humor and scary moments, it was pretty confusing considering it's pretty surreal. It's a quick game jam game so of course there's no need to make it the best thing ever, but I think there could still be some clarifying points. (I also just noticed that "Than" is in the title name too lol).

[dreamsy990]

DELTARUNE CHAPTER 3 SECRET BOSS STEP BY STEP GUIDE (SPOILERS AHEAD)

complete the first round of the gameshow with at least an S-rank to unlock the S-rank exclusive room if you fail to do this, there is a pippin who will sell you S-rank access for ~1000 points. this is only available the first round

enter the S-rank room, talk to ramb, and go into the room theyre blocking. head to the far left, start the game, leave the room, pick up the controller, and return. you can now play the game

to complete the game, you need to kill every enemy using a sword, which you can find by pushing the bottom left pyramid near the bottom of the map. this room corresponds to the mail room in normal play

once your level at the top is listed as 3, head to the cactuses on the far right of the map, break them using the sword, and this will unlock another area of enemies for you to kill

once your level is listed as max at the top of the screen, you're able to break trees. use this to escape from the map. i did this by going the farthest left i possibly could, and i havent tested other routes. keep travelling further away from the normal level until the game shows you a chest. opening this chest will give you the ice key and end the game

continue play as normal. achieve at least S-rank in the second round. you cannot buy access this time, so be careful! if you want bonus points to counteract susie in the rythm game, you can enter the waterfall room through the waterfall instead of the other side, which will let you eat moss off the wall for bonus points. this put me over the edge, but im pretty sure you can earn S-rank fine through normal play as long as you perform well enough

return to the game in the S-rank room. youre going to do the same thing again. get the sword from whats normally the camera room, and kill any enemies you find

when you run out of enemies on the main map, you need to take a raft and head up and off the map through the ocean to an area above it. go left and forward, and youll come across a door.

opening the door will bring you to a dungeon. walk around, kill anything you find. in the top left of the dungeon, youll find a white robed figure who will join you. when you slash your sword, theyll shoot forward. use this to freeze enemies, and use them as blocks to complete puzzles

once you achieve max level, break the orange boundaries somewhere in the left of the dungeon. go forward as far as you can. when you enter a room which seems to loop in every direction, you need to follow the white robed figures directions. walk into the center of the room, and then start walking down each path. they will refuse to follow you unless its the right path

my memory is a bit hazy here, but i think you just need to continue going down this path until you get the shelter key, where this round of the game ends

continue playing the game as normal from here on out. if you cant switch to susie when doing the door code puzzles immediately after this, and instead have kris with a sword, youve done it right

once you reach the point where you return to the green room and its snowy, go back to the S-rank room and play the game again

youre in a new area, and there are no enemies to kill. instead, you have to kill ralsei and susie to achieve max level

once youre at max level, use your sword to break the ropes blocking you off from the outside. youre going to do the same thing youve been doing this whole time, now, and kill everything in sight. when you get to the orange barriers, break them and walk through them

keep walking until you get to the shelter. kris will try to walk you away from it. you have to keep going forward

enter the shelter, keep walking, and youll eventually get to the boss fight

and uh! have fun after that! i cant tell you what comes after because my game crashed and i got too scared to keep going and deleted my save file

[moonbiscuitsims]

Naruto Deco CC Collection (DL below)

Decals are BGC, the rest require SE. See in-game pics here

🍜🍥ICHIRAKU RAMEN SET🍥🍜 (requires SE and CCMESH)

Only the decals are base game compatible, found with the rest of the naruto wall decals. The light and curtains require SE pack. The curtains ALSO require this @channel4sims mesh (called curtain 1), which you can also find in requirements section. I needed at least five squares to spell 4 "Ramen" katakanas and the Ichiraku kanji, so I used their addon 6 square curtain, for the last square i just put different ramen pictures.

🍥Noren Curtains Sets (requires SE)

Get plain coloured curtains with no symbols in the Addon section. I don't remember the price but I left it the same as the snowy escape ones.😅💜There is a large four square and a small two square curtain of everything.

🍥Misc Naruto Symbols

In order: Naruto bijuu seal, Naruto 6 paths sage mode, Sakura's crest (uchiha ones are with uzumaki package), ANBU, Land of Fire, Akatsuki, Gaara's love tattoo, Sage of 6 paths, sealed orochimaru curse mark. 🍥Konoha Clan Symbols

Uzumaki + Uchiha (including police force symbol and the blue and white ones above 🍥Ino-Shika-Cho / Nara-Akimichi-Yamanaka clan symbols. There were 2 for Akimichi 🍥Sarutobi Clan, Senju Clan 🍥Hyuuga Clan Symbols 🍥Inuzuka (Kiba) I don't know if this is actually the clan symbol 🍥Aburame Clan

🍥Otsutsuki Clan Symbols

Again I found so many that I just made them all, I don't remember the lore about the main or branch family and found many symbols online. I think the one with all the circles is their earth clan symbol and the moon and sun (2 versions) are the two branches)

🍥Hidden Villages Symbols

Konohagakure (Hidden Leaf)🍥Amegakure (Hidden Rain)🍥 Otogakure (Hidden Sound)🍥Sunagakure (Hidden Sand)🍥Iwagakure (Hidden Stone)🍥Kumogakure (Hidden Cloud)🍥Kirigakure (Hidden Mist)

🍥Naruto Wall Decals (Base game compatible)

The decals include the ramen ones to match the Ichiraku set. The Uchiha decals are in their own separate package from all others, included bright, muted, worn/dirty swatches. All resizable, only minor issue is if they are thin black lines or sized down too much then when you zoom out they disappear a bit. They cost 0 simoleons and can be found in wall deco category. 🍥FILES INFO: Uchiha curtain symbols are with uzumaki clan symbols in separate package not in the misc or clan ones, the curtains had too many swatches so I divided them up; Otsutsuki also separate package; the names of the files are self explanatory if you wish to pick and choose, if you want the entire collection there is a merged file with everything, don't forget the mesh, don't install merged with anything else or you'll get duplicates) 🍥REQUIREMENTS ❗❗❗ Decals require nothing. All Noren Curtains require Snowy Escape. Ichiraku Set also requires SE, but apart from that requires this MESH by @channel4sims-cc (I mentioned above but forgot here, it is in the set called curtain 1)

🍥ABOUT THE SYMBOLS/DESIGNS: I included: misc symbols (Akatsuki, Gaara's love tattoo, ANBU, orochimaru curse mark with and without seal, Naruto's bijuu seal, all main konoha clan symbols (Sarutobi, Senju, Nara, Yamanaka, Akimichi, Aburame, Hyuuga, Inuzuka, Haruno, Uzumaki, Uchiha), Land of Fire symbol, the main hidden villages (Konoha/Leaf, Kumo/Cloud, Kiri/Mist, Oto/Sound, Suna/Sand, Ame/Rain, Iwa/Stone), Otsutsuki and 6 paths symbols. In cases where there was more than one online or I wasn't sure which was the main symbol I just made various different ones, sorry if I got anything wrong, all images were found online. I tried to use colours that matched the colour schemes used in the anime for characters clans and villages. (Also didn't mention but the curtains further to the top are only brighter because of the lighting, they are all the same though, sorry I suck at the photos)

🍥ADDON: PLAIN CURTAINS

If you want MATCHING PLAIN CURTAINS in the same colours with no symbols, you can download them HERE.

🍥DOWNLOAD (Google Drive) 🍥ALT (PATREON)

🍥Please respect my TOU and do not:

❌ REUPLOAD -❌ PUT BEHIND PAYWALL OF ANY KIND -❌ INCLUDE CC IN YOUR DOWNLOADS ❌CLAIM AS YOURS HOWEVER I'm including the photoshop texture files for personal edits, please don't reupload mine (if you make a sort of original set, or some other item and wanna use the logos that's fine). You can use the plain colour curtains texture files from the addon download too if you wish as a background for your own creations as long as they are your own creation and aren't the same as my download. If you do use them or use my stuff for screenshots or something please credit and tag me, I would love to see! If you have any inquiries about anything please ask! I’ll always answer as soon as I see it! Thank you (✿◡‿◡)💜💜💜

[sleepynoons]

kaeya x gn!reader, sfw

cw: n/a

notes: cross-posted from my ao3 (with some minor fixes). i don't usually write in past tense, so don't get used to it lol. the day genshin returns to mondstadt is the day i return to the game LMAO

KAEYA ALWAYS ran cold. it was natural, being a cryo swordsman and all. but his “cold-bloodedness” – as you like to call it – proves to be a problem in the height of monstadt’s winter.

mondstadt is a small nation. everyone knows each other, and secrets and rumors spread like wildfire. the whole population is like a large family, with the shopkeepers as nosy aunts and the older hunters the boisterous uncles. while this proved to be quite problematic at times (the only reason you and kaeya got together was because your mother’s friend’s daughter had revealed your crush to the blue-haired knight, but that’s a story for later), it did help you save kaeya.

kaeya is a renowned cavalry captain under the knights of favonius. though he has a flirtatious attitude and is quick to delegate all of his responsibilities away, when he is sent on a mission, he is determined and sets his life on the line for his comrades.

right before the beginning of mondstadt’s annual winter festivities, kaeya and a few select knights were sent to handle some fatui agents on the southern shore of dragonspine. the trip would take a week in total, and you spent your days cleaning, helping out at your mother’s bakery, and picking out presents for close friends and relatives.

this year, you decided to gift kaeya a cream muffler and a set of glass earrings made from frostshield potion. kaeya required extra layers during the cold, and as much as you admired the fur and leather he routinely donned, it was not enough to keep him warm. the earrings would be the first pieces of jewelry from you to him, so what better reason to get them?

it wasn’t until two nights before kaeya’s designated return did you rush out of your house to visit dragonspine.

as you were wrapping kaeya’s presents late at night, there were a series of knocks at your window pane. turning around, you realized those knocks were actually pecks. a messenger hawk was perched outside, gripping a small, crumpled note in its beak. the crimson ribbon tied around the note indicated not only the sender but also the urgency of the message.

after sending the hawk away with a small snack, you unfurled the paper and skimmed it.

how you made it through dragonspine was no surprise. as a teenager, you were an up and coming knight, and you trained in the same cohort as jean. recognized for your speed and agility, you were supposed to become a leader for younger outriders, such as amber. but after a gliding accident that hospitalized you for several months, it was impossible to regain your former strength and become a full-fledged knight. regardless, you knew what you were doing.

given kaeya’s descriptions in prior conversations and the details listed in the letter, you navigated across the snowy plain and steeled past hillichurl camps. along the way, you noticed remnants of kaeya and his team’s trek across dragonspine, such as the occasional tent branded with the knights' crest and unlit campfires. as long as you followed these traces, your path was bound to intersect with theirs.

you reached the camp a little past sunrise. a large campfire was set up in front of a damp tent, and the knight on watch was sifting through a notebook. you approached the knight, and after explaining the situation, he led you into the tent.

on the ground, sleeping, was kaeya. you sighed as you knelt down and opened up your backpack.

as you brought out some medicine and additional blankets, you ordered the knight on watch to hurry back to the city to fetch a few horses.

“i told you to wear more.”

kaeya’s eye fluttered open. “ah, but darling, you know i can’t sacrifice style.”

“you need to rest. you have a fever.” placing a warm towel over his forehead, you brushed his bangs behind his ear and tucked him in. you whispered, “just a few more hours, and we’ll be right back at home.”

you slipped your hand under the covers, gripping his palm when you found it. kaeya let out a breathy chuckle and said, “we could've gotten home faster if you brought some horses with you.”

you smiled in response. “i was too worried about you to think things through.”

–

by the time you and kaeya arrived home, his fever had worsened. you stuck close to his side, despite the possibility of falling ill yourself, and focused solely on him. after all, kaeya was often away, and it wasn’t common to see him with his guard down.

“please, continue to admire me. i know my face is enchanting,” he remarked through a fit of coughs.

“with your inflating ego, i’m sure your cold will be gone soon.” you checked his temperature only to see it had risen. “i’ll go make some more soup.” but before you could stand up, kaeya wrapped an arm tightly around your torso, dragging you back to your seat. even though kaeya’s eye was closed, the slight tremble in his body gave way to his embarrassment.

“just ask next time,” and you removed his arm before repositioning your body to face him.

you don't know when kaeya fell asleep. nothing, from his facial expressions to his posture, changed. even though the two of you have been together for years, many aspects of him are still a mystery to you. but you’ve never gotten annoyed or frustrated. rather, you appreciate the gradual build-up and find it fun to learn more about your partner every day.

so the next morning, before you entered kaeya’s bedroom with breakfast, you witnessed for the first time a child-like glee on his face as he examined the muffler and earrings you put on him in his sleep.