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themsource · 1 year

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Fransweek '23 - Day 3

Theme: Tears Rating: T Pairing: UF Sans/Frisk - Shayromi's Frans Family Inspired Word Count: 1,043

I love the Underfell AU, I had to use it somewhere lol Cross posted to Ao3 here. @fransweek

When Frisk first fell underground she'd been an easily impressed naive child, too smitten with the mysteries of the underground and instantly taken to idolizing its intimidating and vicious inhabitants.

The monsters weren't really cruel like they'd have liked her and every other human to believe, they were just…rough around the edges. She'd witnessed each one laugh and tease, playfully groan and cry—display every range on the emotional spectrum.

Except for a certain skeleton that is.

Sans did all of those things too, except cry. He never shed a tear. Not once. He didn't whine or sob when Frisk had nearly lost her soul setting them free, didn't get misty eyed when he'd poured his thoughts out as a lost soul, and when Frisk had expected it most with everyone cheering and crying around them once they reached the surface—his sockets were still dry, his grin still relaxed and expression unbothered as sunlight glinted off his golden tooth for the first time.

Being so young and the way she was Frisk didn't think anything of it at the time. Sans had come across collected, smooth and confident. She'd figured he just wasn't the type to get emotional.

But then as the years passed and her maturity developed and intelligence grew she started to notice.

Sans didn't cry when they'd been separated for a few years for her ambassadorial duties and reunited, the time on the surface hadn't seemed to soften him like it had his brother Papyrus who'd nearly strangled her in his arms excitedly while crying tears of his own to match hers.

Sans didn't cry when after dancing around it for six months he'd finally found the courage to ask her out and she'd accepted, only grinned softly as she was left joyfully weeping alone.

He didn't cry at their wedding though unfathomable adoration and love had been plain to see in his gaze, didn't wail at the birth of their first child but looked beyond joyous that no words could adequately describe it, and didn't so much as whimper after a political incident where Frisk's life had been at risk when he'd come in a raging bull only to fall to his knees in concern when she'd been carefully lowered onto the paramedic's stretcher.

He'd been just as calm, reactive, and blunt just as he'd always been but never broken—never so overwhelmed his body could only produce his emotions in a physical reaction like it did for literally everyone else. Frisk resigned herself to thinking that Sans was simply incapable of such a thing. That maybe something had happened in his past or that he just defied nature both magical and non alike.

And then it happened.

She walked in on him cutting an onion one day, to find Sans sobbing like a baby.

Her eyes shot wide as saucers as his crimson eyelights warbled around the rims and the frame of his teeth trembled, thick globs of gelatinous raw magic pouring from his sockets and nasal both in continuous rivets. Frisk's mouth fell open, and she was rendered speechless. Sensing her presence Sans wiped an arm across his face, only making the mess bigger by smearing the magic across his skull like badly glowing lipstick as he sniffled.

"what?! c-can't ya see 'm tryin' ta make dinner here!?" His voice struggled between its usual deep transatlantic bass and a high pitched squeaky tone that cracked.

Frisk's brows raised to her hairline but she didn't say anything as she moved to stand next to him and look down at the onion he was chopping.

"...chewing gum usually helps me when I do it."

Sans shot her a glare, more of a pout as the tears undermined it.

"tried that."

Frisk laughed.

Her husband threw down the onion and knife and tossed his hands up before turning to her. "okay what!? just cuz i'm—i'm not a whimp ya hear me!? they sting and it just happens—"

She held up a hand as she tried to compose herself. Sans reluctantly quieted down but didn't look pleased in the slightest as he crossed his arms. He only wound up looking cute with how the warbling in his eyes became more apparent the bigger they got in his frustration.

"I just," she paused to wipe a tear away. "I'm surprised is all. I really thought you couldn't cry! How ridiculous is that?!"

Sans stared at her as Frisk once more started laughing. She laughed so hard she bent over and had to use the counter to support herself. His sockets widened, and then he snorted as he began to join in. When they both finally dissolved into tiny giggles and sighs he shook his skull.

"'course i can. just cuz you don't see it doesn't mean i don't." Frisk tilted her head curiously.

He responded with a shrug. "i just wait until no one's around. shower, in my 'study' as you call it. places i know i won't get found without warning."

She had to know.

"When we got married?"

"oh i cried like a lunatic, after you went to bed that night." He scoffed.

Frisk crossed her arms and grinned. "When Elys—"

"in a broom closet at the hospital, down the hall from your room." Sans looked up at the ceiling, nostalgic. "also had a small panic attack while i was at it worrying i'd drop her holding her that first time."

Frisk didn't know what to say. There was a sudden blooming in her chest, warm affection and tenderness that left her incapable of anything else but staring at the monster she loved. The intent must've been felt, as Sans looked at her and started blushing an adorable cherry red.

"what!?"

She shook her head and turned to finish off the onion. "I love you."

Sans didn't say anything at first, his arms around her waist was more than enough. But then he pressed his teeth to her throat in a mock kiss and hummed, "i know, lucky ain't i?"

This skeleton.

"Darn right you are!"

They both turned to see Elys in the kitchen doorway holding her baby brother Arno. "And you're supposed to say 'I love you' back, dad."

"Busted~" Frisk teased as Sans grumbled petty nonsense into her shoulder.

#undertale au #underfell #frans #sans/frisk #frans family #fransweek #fransweek2023 #Ao3 #fanficiton #fluff #comedy

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solarsavoy · 11 months

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Hey yall! I've done it. I've posted the first chapter of Nagisa Shiota on AO3. XD

Here's the cover.

I tried to follow a similar color scheme to the Fran Bow thing here.

Anyway, I really hope you enjoy the fic! And if you've not played the game, it should still prove to be a really fun psychological thriller! As of now, I'm expecting around ten chapters and I've already written the first three. I plan to update every Sunday (we will see) and I'm really excited about this one. Rated M for blood, violence, mental illness, death, psychological trauma, use of drugs, hallucinations. Looking forward to all of your lovely comments!

Link to fic.

#solarsavoyart #solarsavoyfics #nagisa shiota #ao3 fanfic #assassination classroom #fran bow #crossover #psychological thriller

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mergrl · 2 years

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happiness. (youcef/MC)

s4 | youcef/MC | 3.7k words | read on AO3 here

A/N: this is my submission for @litgwritersroom ’s lie detector prompt! francesca is the MC of my upcoming slow burn villa fic for youcef - this is obviously in villa as well, but as an AU from my main fic. i wanted to give a happier perspective of what happens when your partner says everything right - but also showing the other side of slow burn love triangles, and hopefully make najuma feel a bit more complex and human than what fusebox gave us. it’s meant to feel bittersweet, i hope you enjoy! and a massive thank you to @rebelrayne for beta reading this ❤️

it’s the first question that makes youcef pause. he hesitates, his hands curling up into tight fists, and najuma doesn’t know what to do. why was he hesitating?

it was easy for her to make sense of the end of their relationship when he was so clearly head over heels for fran. she’d have to have been blind not to see their chemistry. and of course she was happy with oliver - so why was he hesitating? why was he complicating things? and why did she feel so complicated about it?

---

francesca can’t remember the last time the villa felt this peaceful.

the spanish sun is shining down, bright and warm, as she spreads out across the daybeds, her head resting on youcef’s chest as he toys lazily with her hair. it had been about a week since they’d finally coupled up, and things just felt right. after weeks of back and forth, what felt like a never-ending game of cat and mouse, friends quickly turned into something more, it was as if everything had finally fallen into place.

“do you think anything exciting’s going to happen today?” she muses, pushing her sunglasses up so that they’re resting in her hair, shifting her gaze to look up at youcef. it felt like it had been a few days since anything had happened - no dates, no challenges, no new people.. nothing.

it was almost eerily quiet, but maybe that’s just because they were nearing the finale. none of them quite knew how much time they had left, but they knew it was coming soon - you could feel it in the air around them, a quiet, static electricity that foretold the end was near.

“we’ve only been together for one week, and you’re already getting tired of me?” youcef teases, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “shut up,” francesca laughs, her mouth twitching up into a smile. “i could never.” she wraps her arms around him, settling in comfortably against his chest.

“besides, if i was going to get tired of you, it would have happened weeks ago.” they’d only officially been coupled up for a week, but it had been much longer than that - filled with longing glances, almost kisses, and a million what ifs. if she was going to grow tired, it would have been then, it would have died with the agony and the not knowing, the silent screams of ‘what are we’ - but she couldn’t grow tired of him, not when he looked at her like that.

like he was looking at her now, like he’d willingly sacrifice all of his worldly possessions, like he’d give up the moon and more, if only for another moment by her side.

“being right here with you is all the excitement i need,” youcef murmurs after a moment, his hand resting on her lower back as he pulls her in for a kiss. in this moment, everything felt right.

somewhere across the villa, a text tone rings out, followed by thabi’s familiar squeal of, “i got a text!”

—

the text reveals that they’ll be testing their relationships by taking part in the lie detector challenge. the girls are all huddled in the living room, sprawled across various surfaces, the room filled with anxious sighs and the frantic scribbling of pens against paper.

najuma is sat next to francesca, and can’t help but to steal glances over to the other girl’s notepad, before she finally just pipes up and asks, “what do you think you’re going to ask, fran?” she was curious, more than curious - it’d been a week since she and youcef had broken up for the last time, after a rollercoaster of a summer, and it felt like he’d turned into a completely different person with francesca.

he’d always looked at najuma like he was surprised to see her there, and sometimes it was a happy surprise, but other times she couldn’t tell what he was feeling. but he’d always looked at francesca like she contained galaxies. like the entire universe laid beneath the surface of her skin, and he’d give anything to explore it’s depths.

but it’d taken them too long to admit it - not until tom had fucked up royally, letting dylan blow up their relationship like dynamite. it was a bit amusing, seeing the demolitions she dealt with at work everyday make their way into love island, or it was amusing until it was her relationship.

she wanted to be happy for them. francesca had always been a good friend to her, stood up for her against lexi’s snide comments, supported her through all of her arguments with youcef. and if she was being honest - wasn’t that what today was all about? - she and youcef had never really been that compatible. they were driven by lust, more than anything, and it didn’t take long for that to fizzle out.

that didn’t mean that it didn’t fucking hurt though.

“i don’t know,” francesca sighs, tapping her pen against her notepad. this is perhaps the most ungraceful that najuma has seen her - she always looked so poised, towering over the rest of the girls like a supermodel - but she’s hunched over now, notepad resting on her knees, and najuma notices it’s mostly filled with scribbled out words and half finished questions.

“d’you need help?” she offers, and francesca shakes her head no, blowing out a huff of air. they’d spoken to each other so freely and openly for the past week, and everything felt like bliss. she knew that youcef would tell her anything, if she just asked, so why did this feel so difficult?

and francesca knew what she wanted to ask. more than anything, she wanted answers on what had felt like years worth of back and forth condense into a few short weeks - but by asking, did she admit her own complicity? that she had been just as stubborn and selfish and foolish as he had?

but it had been nearly a month and a half to the day since he’d entered the villa - she’d been counting, even if the producers took away all of their clocks and calendars - and she’d known she’d been falling for him from the very beginning. and even though he had confessed his feelings, and they were now happily coupled up, there’s a small part of her that wanted to hear him say it: he had been falling for her too.

“no, i know what i want to say,” she admits, dragging her pen lazily across the page. “i just need to figure out how to word it, you know?” she shrugs, looking over at najuma’s notepad with a half smile. “what about you? have you worked out what you’re going to ask oliver yet?”

najuma’s heart does a flip at just the sound of his name, and she makes no attempts to hide the smile creeping on her cheeks. “i think i’m going to take it easy on him,” she responds, “it’s early days and all that, you know?” it was early days, but he made her blush in a way that youcef never could, and she found herself melting every time he smiled at her.

he was sweet, had come in and immediately swept her off her feet, and had made the past week and a half much easier to swallow than it would have been if she’d braved it alone. but she couldn’t help the sinking feeling that he deserved better - someone who wasn’t so hung up on her past couple - he’d had most of her attention, but she always felt guilty when her mind strayed elsewhere.

it was such an odd feeling, having to reconcile the ending of one relationship with the beginning of another one - but that was love island, wasn’t it?

“look at you, blushing,” francesca playfully nudges her knee against najuma’s, smile spreading across her lips. “i’m so glad you’ve found each other.”

—

the challenge seems to have everybody on edge. once they’ve all finished writing their questions, they congregate in the living room, where the producers have set up a large screen tv, projecting in from the hideaway. there’s a lull of silence before the challenge starts, as they’re all anxiously awaiting the first text to signal the challenge has begun.

“i don’t know what everyone is so nervous about,” youcef is the first one to break the silence, as he seemingly always was. francesca seems to know what he’s going to say before he begins, and braces herself from the groans and the eyerolls from her fellow islanders. “if everybody is honest, then there’s nothing to worry about with this challenge, no?”

“that’s rich, coming from you,” angie retorts from further down the room, and francesca’s stomach winces at her response. “how long did it take you to tell fran you were into her, huh?”

her voice is riddled with her typical sarcasm and snark, and next to her there’s an anguished look that passes over tom’s eyes, if only for a second. they had ended up together if only by default in the last recoupling, with tom being one of the last to pick, sending tiffany and dylan home.

“hey -” francesca starts, and angie just shrugs. “i’m just.. not saying it’s wrong or anything, but, he’s certainly one to talk about honesty.” at this, youcef lets out a light, airy laugh, as if he was completely unaffected by the tension in the room. he wraps his arms around francesca next to him, pulling her in close and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“i will be utterly and completely honest today, amour, you have my promise,” he murmurs, just loud enough for her to hear. she rests her chin on his shoulder, looks up at him to find his hazel eyes staring at her with the same intensity he always had when looking at her. “so i hope you didn’t go too easy on me, no?” he teases, and she laughs, reaching up to brush his hair back and out of the way, giving her a better view of his face.

“i wouldn’t dream of it.” there’s a playful smirk tugging at her lips, and it feels like they’re in their own little world - his arm around her waist, her head against his shoulder, this was exactly where she was meant to be.

—

they’re one of the last couples to go. some of the others had been rocked by the answers they’d received - valentina had to look away as she failed miserably not to tear up when will’s admission that his head wouldn’t be turned on the outside came back as a lie, and they had all had to witness the way bruno’s face fell when cora admitted that she didn’t think they were compatible.

francesca had asked hard questions. she knew she had. but she was feeling confident - the other’s relationships were teetering on the edge, but not hers. not them. not today.

it seems like a cruel twist of fate that najuma is assigned to ask youcef fran’s questions, but they’re stood in the hideaway, a lab coat draped over her body, as she stares down at the same notepad that she had witnessed francesca scribbling in earlier, now with three questions clearly outlined at the bottom.

youcef’s face appears cool and collected as he sits before her, but the way he taps his fingers on the arm of the chair tells najuma that he’s just as anxious as the rest of them had been, he was just better at hiding it. “you ready, youcef?” she asks, trying to ignore how backwards this all felt.

“of course,” his voice is as collected as always, and najuma draws in a deep breath, takes it as a sign to begin. they run through the first two questions - is your name youcef? are you from france? - as a sign that the machine is working properly, and when both answers light up the machine green, she knows it’s time to dive in.

najuma shakes her head, tries her hardest not to scoff as she reads francesca’s first question. “do you think your head could be turned this late?” she reads out, studying youcef’s face for a reaction. could it, youcef?

there was a bitter irony to the question, knowing that he had dumped her not only a week ago - but she supposed his head had actually turned long before that.

“no,” youcef’s answer comes so easily, and his voice is sincere. “of course not.”

no, of course not. if it could, najuma wouldn’t be standing here, she’d be out there, and perhaps francesca would be the one asking the questions - nothing could have turned his head from her. they had found something truly special in here. what more could she do than accept it?

“looks like you’re telling the truth,” najuma remarks, the machine flashing green.

of course he was. it’s all that francesca can think as she watches the exchange from out in the living room, trying to hide the smile that spreads across her features. she had included the question as an easy one, having already known the answer. they were both all in to making this work, after everything.

“that’s a good sign, right?” thabi asks cheerfully. she’s sat next to fran in youcef’s absence, arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace. they’d been close from the very beginning, and francesca was grateful for her presence. “yeah,” francesca breathes out, “i think they’ll all be good. i trust him.”

—

najuma sucks in her teeth as she reads the second question. it was something she’d been wondering too, for the longest time, and she’s on pins and needles to know youcef’s answer. “did you have feelings for francesca during the kiss or miss challenge?”

the challenge had been weeks ago - it felt like a lifetime, now - but it had caused her first major fight with youcef, the first of what would be many. after the new girls had come in, and it felt like he was wandering, and after everyone had told her about how he kissed francesca during the challenge, how it didn’t look like just a challenge kiss, but like he meant it -

“yes.” youcef’s voice rings loud within her ears, and najuma draws in a breath. she doesn’t know what she’d been expecting. of course he had. of course he had. she’d have been more shocked if he said no, she thinks, because then that meant that fight, everything, would have all been for nothing. because he was bored?

she didn’t know what to think of him anymore. they’d been coupled up for weeks, but who had she been coupled up with, really? it felt like she was staring at a stranger.

“that’s the truth, too,” najuma gives a playful half smile, “looks like you were telling the truth about being honest, huh?” and at this youcef gives his signature french scoff, “of course i was.”

in the living room, the exchange draws a few laughs from some of the islanders, who seem to be relieved by his answers, grateful for the break in the drama. francesca and thabi are holding hands now, and fran digs her nails into thabi’s palm slightly, her smile growing wider by the second.

that was one of the harder questions for her to ask, because they’d both been so fucking stupid back then, refusing to admit their feelings, but she could feel it during that challenge, could feel it in the way he kissed her, could feel it in every kiss they’ve shared since then. and it seems like they’ve shared a million in the past week alone - as if they were making up for lost time, as if all that either of them wanted was to get lost within one another.

“how are you feeling?” thabi whispers next to her, and francesca squeezes her hand. “happy, he makes me so happy,” she murmurs, “but it’s the next question that i’m nervous about.”

—

“last question, how are you feeling?” najuma asks, tapping her pen against the notepad. she’s asking to be polite more than anything, but it’s clear that it’s not needed, as youcef responds back, “confident. happy. good. i thought she was going to go hard on me, but ah, i suppose she’s saving that for when we’re alone later,” he laughs at his own joke, and najuma forces a smile. “don’t get too cocky just yet, there’s still one question left.”

and fuck, what a question it was, she thinks as she reads the page.

“would you tell francesca if you fell in love with her?”

it’s the first question that makes youcef pause. he hesitates, his hands curling up into tight fists, and najuma doesn’t know what to do. why was he hesitating?

this was the question francesca had been the most nervous about, she can feel a lump forming in her throat as she watches him pause on the screen before her. she’d wanted to ask the question because it had taken him so long to admit he’d even had feelings for her, if he had fallen for her, would he say it? would she have to force it out of him?

if she had fallen in love with him, what would he say if she told him? she knows that she has. she’s known for a while now, this was more than just some summer fling, that the feeling that rose in her chest whenever he was around was more intense than anything she’d ever felt. and so she needs to know: could he say it? would he say it?

it feels like a lifetime before he finally speaks.

“if i’m being honest,” youcef sighs, spreading out his fingers as he grips the arms of the chair. “no.”

there’s a shared, loud gasp that resonates around the living room, and francesca can feel thabi’s hand on her knee comfortingly, not quite sure what this meant, but there for her regardless.

the machine dings green, but it almost doesn’t matter, because youcef continues speaking, his eyes staring straight ahead into one of the cameras that was recording them. “no, because, i have already fallen in love with you, francesca, and i have simply been too much of a coward to admit it. but, so much for that, hey?” he lets out a nervous laugh he hadn’t known he was holding in, his hands gripping the chair tight.

“i am sorry i couldn’t work up the courage to tell you sooner. but i hope you can forgive me, because i am in love with you, francesca. i think i always have been.”

it feels like time stops.

najuma can hear the clapping and cheers from the other islanders on just the other side of the door, everyone just as shocked by his revelation as she was. she knows she didn’t have feelings for him anymore. she knows that she had moved on. she knows that whatever feelings she did have for him were nothing like what he shared with francesca. those were all objective truths. they could not be disputed.

but hearing his answer? hearing that he was in love with her? that it felt like he always loved her? it painted the past month in an entirely new light, and she feels sick, like the room is going to start spinning. she doesn’t know how to feel. she doesn’t know what she’s allowed to feel. should she be happy for them? should she be upset, feel fucked over, like her time had been wasted?

was she even allowed to be upset - in a place like here, when francesca was her friend? was there any space for her emotions?

—

francesca is trying her hardest not to run to the hideaway door, her smile so bright she thinks her face might break, but she’s there to greet him when he exits, and she doesn’t even get a chance to say anything before he’s lifting her up, pulling her into a kiss.

everything around them fades to black. the other islanders have crowded around, to celebrate the happy couple, but francesca couldn’t care less about them, instead letting herself melt into his kiss, reveling in the feeling of his hand on the small of her back, the smile that spreads across his lips. knowing that he was hers, utterly and completely, hers.

“you bring out the absolute worst in me, you know, cherie?” youcef laughs after a moment, his voice quiet and breathy, and there’s an incredulous look to his eyes as he gazes down at her, as if he can’t believe this is real, as if he can’t believe they’re sharing this moment. “everyone thinks that i am so smooth, or so confident, but with you.. i always worry i’m going to fail you, or say the wrong thing. i’m sorry -”

francesca cuts him off before he can finish with another kiss, small and sweet, before she pulls back, resting her forehead against his. “youcef,” she whispers, and the sound of his name on her lips sends a shiver down his spine. “i know. i love you, too,” she admits, and they both break into wide, unbreakable grins. “i love you, i love you, i love you,” she murmurs against his lips, her hand cupping his cheek.

she’s never felt such bliss than in this moment. there was never a doubt in her mind, that she was in love.

this, this is what happiness felt like.

najuma is standing back from the group, still stood in the entrance to the hideaway as she watches the scene play out before her. she’s wrapped her arms around herself, holding the clipboard with francesca’s notepad tight to her chest, sucked in a breath of air, not sure how she should feel.

the rest of the islanders are quietly buzzing around her, as if the declaration of love was healing them from the drama of the day, but najuma can’t help but to fold in on herself. thabi seems to be the only one who notices, stepping away from the group to approach her. “hey,” her face softens into a sympathetic smile. “are you okay?”

najuma’s body seems to go into autopilot, and she’s responding before she’s even had a chance to process the question. “yeah,” she puts on a fake smile, wide and too bright, “i’m just happy for them, you know?”

#litg #litg s4 #litg youcef #love island the game #whats this? my first non smut writing i've published?#and it's for youcef? absolutely no one is surprised #i hope you like it i'm going to go scream into the abyss now #also it would mean a lot to me if you read it on ao3 too :)#fran/youcef

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at-lilbot · 1 year

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take me out to the ball game

READ ON AO3

Pairing: Hunter|The Golden Guard/Willow Park

Rating: Gen

Status: Complete

Summary: Hunter isn’t a sports guy. And he definitely isn’t the going out type. But after Luz gives him a ticket to her first major league game, he can’t refuse. What he doesn’t expect is having to sit next to his sister’s best friend, who is undeniably the prettiest person he has ever met.

READ BELOW:

Hunter is not a sports person.

If anybody asked him what he’d rather be doing at this exact moment, he would say birdwatching or reading, but sitting in the middle of a baseball stadium, watching a game is not one of them. Sure he works out daily but that’s standard regiment for a healthy lifestyle, it has nothing to do with enjoying watching other people play games with convoluted rules. But being the good big brother he is, he comes to watch his little sister, Luz, in her first major league game, supporting her through thick and thin.

Leaning forward in his seat, he rests his elbows on his knees, watching the green expanse of the pitch below him. Luz had mentioned that she gave another ticket to her best friend and they would be seated next to him. Admittedly, he had never met any of Luz’s friends besides her current girlfriend, as he’s usually away at college, so who exactly he will be sitting next to is a mystery to him. He doubts that they’ll be awful or obnoxious, but they’ll definitely be new, and that’s a scary idea – he’s not exactly a people person.

Hopefully they’ll keep to themselves, and he can watch the game in his own contained bubble in complete silence, with no awkward small talk. God, does he hate small talk.

His fingers begin to fiddle with one another in anticipation, he is definitely going to have a word with Luz for seating him next to a complete stranger instead of their mother. Hunter goes over all the different ways he’s going ways he’s going to confront his sister, when suddenly he sees a pair of tan freckled hands latch themselves on the plastic backing of the seat. When he looks up, he finds himself lost in eyes of evergreen.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

Even her voice is enchanting, like the soft whistling of the wind or the first chorus of dawn, and Hunter can’t help the heat rising to his cheeks.

She’s a pretty girl made of soft curves and lines, her dark curly hair tied in puffs, her pretty emerald eyes accented by a pair of round glasses. He can’t help but stare at her eyes, the kaleidoscopic shades of green captured in her irises reminding him of his long forest jogs he does every morning – his time of calm and peace.

He had never been good at talking to girls, people would approach him and he would talk to them kindly and only after their interactions would he realise that they were flirting. Luz had caught these moments many times and she would tease him to death about his obliviousness (not that she was any better – maybe its hereditary).

But now, standing right in front of him is the perfect chance to talk to one, and maybe even make the first move. All those hopeful thoughts drop to the pit of his stomach when he remembers that he is meant to be waiting for Luz’s friend, and that the seat is reserved for them.

His mouth begins to feel dry, and he realises that he had been gaping the whole time. Hunter quickly closes his mouth, and opens it again to speak, “I-uhm, I’m ah- this seat is reserved.“

She giggles. “I know, all the seats are, I was just trying to break the ice.” She takes her place next to Hunter and stretches out a hand. “Hunter, right?”

Hunter takes her hand and shakes it, noting down her firm grip, “Yeah. Luz didn’t mention your name, she didn’t really tell me much.” He admits.

“It’s fine, she’s been … occupied. But I’m Willow.” She offers him a small smile and his heart soars. “The feeling’s mutual though, I didn’t know Luz had a brother until she gave me this ticket.”

“It’s a fairly new development.”

Willow raises an eyebrow. “What, being her brother? Aren’t you older than her?”

Hunter laughs at this. “Yeah, I am. I’m adopted though. We’re still biologically related, we’re actually cousins, but stuff went down with my bio dad, and well Camila has been more of a mother to me than he ever has.”

“Ah.” Willow says thoughtfully, her eyes pointing to the sky.

Hunter hums, and sinks further into his seat, “It’s a little complicated but technicality or not, she is still my sister.”

“Naturally.” Willow agrees, a smile on her lips. “So how come you’re all the way here in the nosebleed seats instead of the box?”

“Luz only had two seats in the box since she’s a newbie, one went to my Mama and the other went to - “

Almost as if she was summoned by his thoughts, a head of lavender hair can be seen in the distance, she is leaning over the railing of the box, chatting amicably with his sister, a bright blush on both their cheeks.

“Amity.” He says ruefully at the same time as Willow, though her tone is much more chirpy.

He turns to Willow, a look of shock on his features, “How do you know Amity?”

“Ha!” Willow throws her head back, a low laugh emitting from her lips, “How do I know Amity?! I knew Amity before Amity knew Amity, we’ve been friends forever. I’m the whole reason Luz and Amity haven’t chewed each other’s heads off all those years.”

“Ah, so you’re the she-devil that introduced them!” Hunter says playfully, secretly surprised by the amount of confidence he displayed.

“What can I say? I’m basically Cupid’s apprentice.”

“A match made in Hell, Luz will not stop talking about her.” Hunter coughs, his voice turning into a mock falsetto to imitate Luz, his arms waving around in emphasis, “Amity is so great and pretty, her hair is like cotton candy! Hunter have you seen Amity’s arms, no wonder she can throw so far! Hunter, Amity kissed me today. Hunter, Amity got a new lip-gloss, Amity this, Amity that-“

With a final mocking bat of his eyelashes, Willow begins to laugh – it’s a hearty laugh coming from her belly, and Hunter decides in that moment that he’d like to make Willow laugh like that again.

“If you think that’s bad, imagine being on the other end and listening to Amity gush about Luz. You’ve heard of the lesbian disaster but Amity is the epitome of that, no, she is the Goddess, the Messiah of Lesbian disasters.” Willow dramatically sighs and clasps her hands together, a lovesick smile gracing her face. “She winked at me Willow, winked at me! How am I supposed to concentrate when she is being cute, she is so infuriating! Willow, I kissed her and she kissed me back, I think I’m in love! Is it too soon if we move in together right now, I’m already looking at apartments, I’m thinking we should have ten kids!”

“She did not say that.”

Willow smirks, its mischievous and knowing, “No, she didn’t but at the rate she’s moving, she might have.”

Hunter laughs, and Willow joins him. After a few minutes he cranes his head forward, only just catching Amity pulling Luz in closer by the collar and kissing her.

“How much do you wanna bet that that’s their ‘good luck’ kiss?” Willow snickers, her breath hot on his skin, her voice caressing the shell of his ear.

“I would bet all the money in the world if I could. They’re just saps like that.” Hunter rolls his eyes and groans as he sees Luz pull her in closer by the waist, deepening their kiss even further. Every bone in his body is screaming at him to just tell them to ‘get a room’ but he decides against it, knowing that he hates public attention. Instead, he just frowns at their public displays of affection, “I’m still salty that she got the box ticket and not me, I mean I’ve been supporting her since we were kids! She hated Amity until 4 months ago.” He pouts.

“I mean, Luz is whipped, and Amity kisses her like that, so I can’t fully blame her. Still sucks though, but at least you got me.” Willow stands up and cups her hands around her mouth – what comes next makes Hunter think she can rean his mind. “Get a room you two!” She shouts at the top of her lungs and Hunter swears that he sees sparkles emanating from her skin.

Amity turns around from the distance and searches the crowd, once her eyes land on Willow, she flips her the finger. Willow sticks out her tongue and returns the favour, flipping her off as well. In a swift motion, she falls back into her seat laughing. Hunter thinks that he’s never met anybody so amazing, so beautiful.

It’s not long before the game starts, Amity has taken her place next to Camila and both of them chat to one another. Hunter and Willow talk about miscellaneous things, in a loop of conversation that comes easily to the both of them.

Whenever Luz is batting, they both stand, hands gripping against the railing until their knuckles go white. They cheer loudly, their throats going raspy and hoarse as a result. Luz is an amazing batter, the ball goes flying across the stadium at high speeds, falling into the crowd opposite them. Hunter watches as her sister runs base to base, a prideful grin on her lips. This is her moment, the crowd cheering as she makes a home run. Hunter can’t help but feel happy for Luz, she had been working so hard for this and she’s now here. Willow is screaming equally as loud next to him, her cheeks red from the volume.

After a few more plays, the umpire raises his hands to indicate a timeout, their blue shirt a stark contrast against the green faux grass. People around him start to get up, stretching their legs, others make their way to the food vendors, deciding to get a snack. Hunter decides to stay in his seat, not bothering to go through the effort of getting up just to search for his seat later on.

Hunter turns his head to the side and sees Willow still seated, “You not getting up?” he asks.

“Nah, I’m good here.” She says with a smile.

Hunter leans back into his seat, watching the players mill into their respective boxes like worker ants. “I actually think that the Hexside Witches are going to win this year.” He muses.

“Definitely, either them or the Banshees. They might be dating but I doubt Amity is going to take it easy on Luz.”

“That would be a scary match. I’ve played Mario Kart with both of them, and that is too much competitiveness in one room.” He shivers, brief memories of a broken vase and accusations of cheating echoing in his head. “I think that every other team would be in trouble if they were on the same team. Now that’s a power duo you don’t want to mess with.”

Willow hums in agreement. She’s about to say something but is interrupted by music blaring from the speakers. ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpence None the Richer starts to play, and Hunter can feel his eyes roll to the back of his head. The Kiss Cam is quite frankly one of the most ridiculous inventions in mankind, its tasteless and tacky and just a way to rake in the views – Hunter absolutely abhors it.

Willow leans in closer to him, “So who do you think is going to be the poor souls of the kiss cam?”

“Honestly it can be anyone,” Hunter replies, watching the jumbotron display a pink background with multiple red hearts fading in and out of the screen. “I hope its someone with a sign saying ‘he’s gay’ or ‘she’s gay’ just for the fun of it.”

“Are you gay?”

“Bi.” he responds absentmindedly.

“I’m Pan,” she says somewhat comfortingly, and Hunter can feel his heartrate begin to increase.

The camera begins to search for it’s first victim, zooming across the audience, it lands on an elderly couple. Animated hearts frame their faces, expanding and popping before repeating as the couple lean into each other to share a single chaste kiss. Several ‘awhs’ can be heard throughout the audience with even a few wolf-whistles. It’s sweet, Hunter begrudgingly admits, and it’s a warm, loving idea to grow old alongside someone. He’s never really thought about growing old next to someone but the idea becomes more alluring the more he thinks about it, especially sitting next to a beautiful girl with a mirthful smile.

Hunter mentally zones out, the images of the next few couples blurring in his mind. There are a few rejections, as expected, but they aren’t as comical as he hoped. He doesn’t realise the crowd cheering around him until he feels a warm hand above his.

“Hunter. We’re on the screen.”

Hunter looks at Willow and her cheeks are dusted a pretty pink. She looks bashful, different from the confident, almost cocky smiles she had earlier. Her smile now is gentle, tentative, shy. And eyes, her amazing, beautiful eyes, are wavering, shining beneath his gaze. He wants to cup her face and hold her close.

Suddenly her words begin to sink into his consciousness. He blinks rapidly, “What do you mean?”

Willow raises a finger and points it to the jumbotron. On the screen, their faces are clearly displayed in crisp HD. Around them, the crowd cheers, coaxing them to kiss. Heat rises to his cheeks, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. He had never kissed anybody, ever. And now he is expected to kiss the most amazing girl ever in front of a whole crowd. His heart palpitates in his chest, thrumming against his ribcage like a rabid animal.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” She says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Willow thinks that he’s rejecting her, but how can anybody do that? Who could ever deny this sweet, beautiful girl. Hunter swallows the lump in his throat, and shakes his head.

“No.” He says firmly, his hands coming up shakily to cup her face, “I want to.”

She leans into his hands and he can feel his heartbeat in his ears, blood rushing fervently around his body. He leans in slightly, close enough that their foreheads touch. “Can I?” He asks softly.

“Yes.”

He closes the gap between them, timidly placing his lips against hers. The world around him fades away and quietens, if people are cheering, he can’t hear them. All his focus is on Willow, and her velveteen lips on his, perfectly moulded against one another. He feels her pulling him closer and his mind fuzzes into static, a sense of electricity on his fingertips.

They pull apart after a while and when he looks up, he sees that their face is no longer plastered on the jumbotron. A blush rises to his cheeks, but he is comforted by the fact that Willow’s face is matching his.

He begins, “That was uh-“

“Good. That was good.” She finishes, clearly flushed.

“Mhm.” He squeaks. “I’ve never kissed anybody before.”

“Me neither.” She admits, “but it was good, I’m glad that it was you.”

“Me too. That was better that I could ever imagine.”

Willow smiles and interlaces their fingers. “Glad that you’re not in the box right now?”

“Super glad.” He returns the smile.

The game ends after a couple of hours, and the Hexside Banshees reign victorious. Not only is Luz an excellent batter, but she is an amazing right fielder, catching far balls from the opposing batters. She is raised up by the other players as they praise her and Hunter imprints to memory the massive grin on his sister’s face.

All the other members of the crowd have started to make their way out of the stadium, but Hunter remains in his seat, a big lovesick smile on his face as he sees that their hands are still intertwined with one another. Luz is definitely going to tease him about this later when they get home, but he finds that he doesn’t really care. He got to kiss the most beautiful girl in the world and he is still holding hands with her.

Maybe sports games aren’t terrible, and maybe after all, Hunter is a sports guy.

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