#i also think puffy would be a fun teammate

[dudemanauthor]

Disobeying Orders for Fun and No Profits

Author's Note: Apparently, back in the day, I wrote this one in, like, 9 hours. Man, I wish I could write that fast nowadays. Still, I think this one turned out pretty alright.

Emerald always hated choices like this. In one hand she had a vial of neon green dust that would, as her leader Cinder said, ‘destroy the public image of anyone who consumed it’, something that she had explicitly been ordered to do. In her other hand was her scroll, with a text message from Neopolitan, who seemed to know more about the dust than Emerald did.

Neo: That stuff’s pretty fun if you want to use it for yourself

Reluctantly, Emerald slipped the vial into her pocket and messaged Neo back.

Emerald: What does it do?

After a moment of pacing around her team’s dorm room, literally within sight of the mute teammate she was waiting for a response from, Emerald’s scroll buzzed twice with two quick responses.

Neo: Makes you hot and horny

Neo: Don’t ask how I know this

Emerald quickly tapped out her response.

Emerald: How are we supposed to use it without Cinder finding out?!

Neo: “Teachers confiscated it”

Neo: Aren’t you meant to be a good liar?

Emerald aimed a glare over at Neo, who seemed totally oblivious as she lay on her bed in her pyjamas, idly tapping away at her scroll. Emerald fired a response back.

Emerald: I’d like to see you try lying to someone like Cinder

Neo: I could lie to her all day

Neo: You’re the one crushing on her, not me

Neo: At least you’ve got a chance with me

Neo: So, do you wanna get laid or what?

Emerald was taken aback both by how fast Neo was sending out messages and how blunt she was. She wasn’t wrong, but it was something else seeing it spelt out by someone else. It took a moment for Emerald to compose herself and compose a reply.

Emerald: Fine

Emerald: Just don’t tell Cinder

Emerald got up and plucked the vial from her pocket as she sauntered on over to Neo’s bed.

“Alright, go nuts,” she drawled as she handed the vial over. Neo popped the top and downed about half of it before quickly handing it back to Emerald. Within moments, the effects on Neo were obvious. Her respectable breasts surged forward, filling out and straining against her pink and purple flannel top. Her hips began to flair out, with her rear growing plumper and rounder by the second and her thighs following suit. A look of pure ecstasy hit Neo’s face, mouthing out sounds of incredible silent pleasure. As her flannel pyjama pants grew skin tight, Neo quickly pulled them off to save them from tearing. She didn’t get the chance to do that to her top, as her breasts popped all the buttons around her chest, firing them off past Emerald and revealing her hefty breasts and the puffy erect nipples that adorned them. Neo groped her enhanced body with one hand while furiously fingering herself with the other. Emerald could only stand and stare in bewilderment, unable to tear her eyes away as she watched Neo’s display of uncontrollable lust and arousal. “Oh, wow, that dust must be powerful,” she commented in a breathy whisper. Despite escaping Neo’s top, her breasts weren’t done growing, ballooning out to the size of her head before their growth ceased, pushing her shirt wide open and revealing everything. Even Emerald was starting to feel an itch that needed scratching as she enjoyed the show. She undid her belt and pants enough to slip a hand beneath her panties. Her hand went much slower and much gentler than Neo’s, savouring the pleasure while Neo raced to force out orgasm after orgasm like her life depended on it. As Emerald approached the edge of her first orgasm, curiosity began to get the better of her. She undid her belt and pants all the way, letting it drop to her feet. She also quickly ditched her top, knowing what was going to happen if she didn’t. She took one last look at Neo, looking like she was silently having the time of her life, then downed the last half of the dust vial. A surge of incredible pleasure took hold, finishing off her orgasm with explosive power and taking her to highs she never thought possible. Her mind went blank as pleasure took hold and everything faded away.

When Emerald came to, it took a while for her head to stop swimming and to start focusing on anything at all. The first thing she noticed with any sort of clarity was the aura of sexual energy that covered her whole body, making her feel better than she ever had before. After a few moments of slow and steady breathing, everything came in to focus, including the realisation of what just happened.

“Holy shit, did I just cum?” she asked the room, holding her dizzy head with a hand. She was answered by a buzz from her pants pocket. She lazily grabbed at her pants and pulled out her scroll to be greeted by a message.

Neo: First time’s a real doozy, ain’t it

“Heh, you’re not kidding,” Emerald said slowly as she tossed her scroll aside. That was when her brain processed what she was looking down at. Her chest was massive now, and the feeling of that extra weight on her chest was suddenly very present. Emerald stood up, clumsily swaying as she adjusted to the extra weight on her chest and around her hips. Her hands gingerly moved towards her new assets, as if they needed to verify that all of this was real. As a hand gave her breasts a gentle squeeze, Emerald let out a gasp, surprised at the sensitivity and pleasure. She let go, not sure if she could handle the extra pleasure. Then, a pale hand appeared, resting on her breast and gripping with just enough pressure to be noticeable. Emerald turned to see Neo looking at her expectantly. She raised an eyebrow as she slowly ran her hand down Emerald’s toned body, stopping just short of Emerald’s folds. “Do it,” she moaned. She let out a loud gasp as Neo’s fingers dipped between her lower lips, exploring her core while her other hand groped at Emerald’s breasts and she ground herself up against Emerald’s plump rear. Normally Neo would have to search for Emerald’s sensitive spots, but in this state, she’d have trouble finding somewhere on Emerald’s body that wasn’t incredibly sensitive. Emerald shot a hand up to her mouth, trying to keep her moans quiet, or at least a few levels down from deafening. It took a surprisingly short amount of time to bring Emerald to another orgasm, less time than Emerald expected as she nearly doubled over from the sensation.

As she rode it out and Neo’s fingers slowed, Emerald let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding in. She turned around to face Neo, getting a full view of Neo’s naked and improved body while giving Neo an eyeful of tits. Emerald’s plan was to thank Neo for all of what had just happened, but something took over and before she knew it she’d pushed Neo onto the bed and was making out with her, hands running all over Neo’s body and her body grinding up against Neo’s, trying to eke out just a little more friction, a little more pleasure. Her hand, guided by instinct alone, made a beeline between Neo’s thick thighs and into her core, paying Neo back for what she did to her. Her lungs began to burn for air as she broke her deep kiss, just for long enough to catch her breath before Neo pulled her back in, locking lips and slipping tongues into each other’s mouths. The pair held each other as close as they could, squishing their tits together as they ground up against each other. Neo reached around Emerald’s generous hips and slipped her fingers back into Emerald, going at a much faster pace than Emerald was. Emerald picked up on Neo’s challenge, upping her speed to match Neo’s. That only egged Neo on more, as she fingerfucked Emerald faster and harder. This cycle went on and on, with Emerald going faster to catch up with Neo, only for Neo to speed ahead, all the while the pair blitzed past orgasm after orgasm, Emerald moaning it out into Neo’s mouths while Neo went through her climaxes in silence as their bodies writhed with constant pleasure.

The pair went at it for so long, everything but the two of them and their incredible bodies became a blur. Nothing mattered but the pleasure and intimacy they shared. Eventually, the two wore each other out, leaving the two as panting, sweaty messes that lay in each other’s arms, basking in the afterglow of uncountable orgasms.

“Oh gods, that was amazing. We have to do that again some time,” Emerald said, dipping into an almost reverential tone. Neo nodded, a satisfied smile on her face as she leaned in for a surprisingly chaste peck on the lips. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said with a pleased sigh, gently embracing Neo and enjoying the little time they have left with their bodies of pleasure and hoping that Cinder wouldn’t catch them. But that was a future problem, for now, they had the pressing matter of relaxing with each other, everything and everyone else could wait.

[strawbnetwork]

thinking abt mcc teams

[livingforcoopsandoknutzy]

LIVING for the loops + moody content

also the one you’ve just posted and the previous was so so sweet i just wanna see the boys like shake remus about and let him know how much they love him

aaah! me too, it's such an interesting dynamic to write. i hadn't put much thought into them to be honest but writing them was very fun.

i feel like they all show appreciation differently and they all try to show remus that they really do love him

dumo is constantly smiling and helping him out and is just supporting remus which is something remus really appreciates because dumo is like that with the team and it makes him feel like part of the team

james goes out of his way to always thank remus and be like where tf would we be without you. remus treasures that as well

finn and leo are both good with words and they both take the time to talk to him after games and meets and such

moody's speech really resonates with logan. though it's not the same he can really relate to how remus is feeling. he knows that feeling of questioning if people care about you and if you're doing enough for people. he knows that doubt like the back of his hand. he pulls remus aside after a game and they end up talking for hours. at one point they get kicked out of the rink at closing and take the conversation to the car, then to waffle house. they end up going home around 3 in the morning, both with puffy eyes and warm smiles. when they part logan gives remus a hard hug which immediately sets remus off again because logan is one of (if not the) least physically affectionate person he knows. they have a silent understanding from there on out. the team doesn't quite understand but they're all a little released for both of them

sirius didn't quite know how to go about fixing it. he contemplated for weeks how to approach remus about it because it was imperative that he know how much he- the team cares out remus. he ends up confronting remus about it during one of his physical therapy sessions. it's awkward and stunted but he thinks he got the idea across. well until remus gave him a soft smile, "i appreciate you trying to include me but i'm not part of your team and i'm the least of your worries. you don't have to stress or worry about me, i'll be fine." sirius just stared. because no. no, no, no. sirius reaches out an arm and stills remus where he was moving around anxiously. "look at me, re." remus lifts his eyes from where they had been on the ground. "i'm sure moody has told you think already but you are so much more than a pt. we would not be on the ice without you, you realize that right? you always have our stuff ready, which we appreciate more than you'll ever know. you always make sure to put our wellbeing first even if we're being stubborn as fuck and fighting you the entire way. i don't think you realize we need you to be well too. we love you and you're just as much a teammate as pots. i know you don't see it but you are. you're brilliant, re. if we made you feel like you aren't, then we are sorry. that's on us. you're amazing and we cannot express how much we love and appreciate everything you do." it's silent for a moment and sirius just knows he messed up. he knows that he's made it awkward and he's about to apologize when remus let's out a shuddering breath and drops his forehead to rest on sirius's chest. sirius freezes before slowly raising a hand to the back of remus's head. there's a whispered, "we love you, re." they sit in silence a little while longer before remus thanks him and shakes himself before getting back to work. after that there's even more hidden blushes and secret smile.

[cdroloisms]

take a shot - dsmp!mcc fic

MCC FIC! MCC FIC! MCC FIC! To be clear, I outlined this weeks back, when teams were first announced, and I took very very little from the actual MCC itself when it came to actually writing this - all I have are the same teams, but it really exists in its own continuity outside of Real Life MCC (obviously, as it’s using the dsmp characters) and everything like that as a whole! Just to be clear :D)

The worldbuilding is also Absolutely Bullshitted start to finish, as well as any and all medical information. Rip. We’re here for a good time, not for a long or particularly accurate one - hope you guys enjoy regardless!! I had a LOT of fun writing this fic, dsmp!mcc aus my BELOVED

title obviously from win it all by derivakat

---

Michael loves MCC.

But it’s one thing to love the normal Championships and quite another when his team looks like it’s falling apart from the inside out - and as the games progress, it becomes more and more obvious that losing, this time, might not be an option.

tws: C!QUACKITY CRITICAL (sorry i promise i love him but he is NOT portrayed very nicely here, very dark portrayal of him), implied trauma, abuse, torture, panic attacks, manipulation, gaslighting, needles, hospitals, MCC-typical violence, emotional distress, prison arc, pandora’s vault themes

(16k words !! :D long boi) 

Michael loves MCC.

Of course he does! It’s fucking MCC - like, who wouldn’t love it? MCC is how he met so many people, how he met Dream, that one time, the two of them teamed with Techno and Burren and winning it all - MCC is a goddamn blast and he’s thankful every time he gets the invite that he’s able to compete. 

Still- it’s hard not to be a little more nervous, now. 

Dream gave him an invite to his SMP right after they teamed, but it wasn’t until months later that Michael actually cashed it in. Entering the server, it became very obvious very quickly that the DreamSMP, as it’s known, isn’t quite the same as its shiny media appearance. The spawn was covered in blocks, creeper holes littering the ground. The people he passed were grey-faced, too stoic to be the same, smiling faces he remembers from only less than a year ago. The air stings of gunpowder and iron. Worst of all are The Crater, shoddily covered in glass that does nothing to hide the damage done, rending the server in two straight down to bedrock, and the Prison, looming on the horizon. Absent-mindedly, Michael rubs at his left shoulder, remembering the Warden setting the prongs of his trident against the skin in warning, just hard enough to barely draw blood. Yeah, that place is bad news. 

The fact of the matter is the server is a mess. And like, okay, whatever, Michael gets it. Everyone has their issues - it’s just the DreamSMP seems to have more than most. Despite his original worries, it’s honestly not been as bad as he originally feared upon logging in; yeah, Bad and Puffy and Foolish and the rest of them are a little more trigger-happy than he might’ve expected (and he’s not going to say that Bad crying over turtles wasn’t a little startling when he first joined, but honestly he thinks Bad is just Like That.) There’s way more death than he’s really comfortable with, and Puffy keeps mentioning Bad murdering her son (Foolish? He thinks? The guy is also a literal God but like, families are weird, who’s he to judge) in a way that’s way too casual to come from anyone entirely well-adjusted, but overall his experience has been alright. 

Still, he gets the feeling that nobody exactly wants the outside world to know about the issues with the place. It’s not an issue for him usually, not when his sleeping schedule is the exact opposite of most of the people he knows and he spends most of his time screwing around on the server, anyway (usually harassing the Warden until the asscrack of dawn if he’s being honest) but with MCC, with everyone watching - he’s starting to get why everyone from the SMP was so damn tense all the time, now. 

Anyway- he loves MCC, he really does. But even that doesn’t stop him from wincing when he sees his team card, the names Dream and Quackity and Sapnap written in Scott’s looping handwriting. He’s not seen Sapnap at all since joining the server, has only heard a little about his place (something Kingdom, not that he was paying attention) from Foolish, and has no idea what the man has been up to. Quackity is his own unique can of worms; Michael doesn’t know exactly what’s up with him and his country, but everything he’s heard so far has sounded like nothing but bad news, casinos and schemes and a trail of wreckage following wherever he goes. And Dream-

Michael looks out his window, chewing on his lip, looking directly in the direction where he knows the prison stands, impenetrable, intimidating. Where Dream’s cell is, in line with his house, where he’s been hidden for months without a trace. Where the Warden had confronted him that one night, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, blood splattered on his boots. 

There’s no real ignoring an MCC invite - not without good reason, not without the admins picking up on something being up. There’s not really a choice, here, but for Michael to duck his head down and pretend everything’s fine just like everyone else from the SMP. He directs one last glance at the prison before walking away, setting the invite on his counter. If he’s lucky, everything will turn out fine. 

(He ignores the part of him that asks what’s going to happen if they’re not. No point in worrying about what hasn’t happened yet - right?) 

---

Weeks pass, the tournament creeping closer, and Michael gets no alerts from his teammates on his comm. No one comes to his house to check in, say hi, not even a ‘hey, we’re kinda competing in a massive tournament in like, seven days, you ready?’ Hell, he even starts checking his goddamn mailbox for a letter or something only to come up empty-handed every time. Never mind performing well - it’ll be a miracle if their team manages to arrive at the tournament at all. 

It isn’t until the day before MCC, the sun high in the sky at what must be near noon, when he finally gets a message on his comm. Michael fishes it out with a frustrated huff, seeing Quackity’s name pop up first when he manages to turn on the screen. 

Quackity whispers to you: you down for some practice?

It takes a couple seconds for him to blink away his shock - out of everyone he expected to arrange practice for their team, Quackity was definitely not at the top of the list. He half-thought they would have to drag him to the tournament kicking and screaming; from what he’s heard, he’s been nothing if not devoted to his country. Shaking his head, he goes to reply; practice is practice, and their team really needs it. 

You whisper to Quackity: sure. practice server?

Quackity whispers to you: yes

Pulling up his server list, Michael scrolls for the practice server, finding it and then letting the server transfer do the rest. A few nausea-inducing seconds later, he’s at the practice server spawn, standing in the middle of a neatly paved road surrounded by colorful arenas and signs. 

“Michael!” 

He turns; there, by the Battle Box arenas, Quackity is waving at him, already dressed in a red varsity jacket and a pair of shorts, the jacket bearing a front pocket embroidered with a rabbit and a large R stitched onto the back. He reaches behind him for a red bag, throws it his way for Michael to catch mid-air. 

“Got these outfits for us last minute - hope it’s alright with you,” Quackity smiles, and Michael tries to prevent his eyes from clinging to the scar spanning the entire left side of his face. “Anyway- how are you, man? I feel like we haven’t seen each other at all on the server. How’s it been?”

“I’m good- it’s been good.” Michael opens the drawstring bag, cataloguing the contents - there’s a jacket, just like Quackity’s, a pair of shorts and sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a headband, all in varying shades of red and white. “Nice outfit- thank you. Is anyone else around?”

Quackity waves a hand behind him. “Yeah- Dream’s here. Should be coming out of the arena soon, actually.” Michael looks over behind his shoulder to where he’s pointing - there, walking down the stairs, is another figure wearing all red that must be Dream. “There he is- hey Dream! Michael’s here!” 

Dream hurries down the stairs; unlike Quackity, he is wearing the sweatpants along with the same jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets. His hair is a lot longer than Michael remembers, pulled back behind his head in a ponytail, mask, as usual, fastened over his face. He settles behind Quackity, giving Michael a small wave; his hands are covered by a pair of fingerless gloves. 

“Hey, Dream!” Michael grins; it’s been such a long time since he’s seen his old teammate, and despite the circumstances and everything that’s apparently happened since then, it’s still pretty damn nice to see him. “How’ve you been?”

Dream seems to freeze for a moment, before shaking his head. “Good,” he says, quiet, sounding almost breathless. Michael’s eyes go to the slivers of skin that show on either side of his face, to the slight shake to his hands. 

“You alright? You look a little pale,” Michael asks, and he definitely doesn’t miss the way Dream stills at the words, muscles tensing, gaze averting to the side even with the mask - doesn’t miss how Quackity steps forward, looking Michael in the eye as he tosses a casual arm around Dream’s shoulder, smiling brightly. 

“Don’t worry. This idiot has just been practicing a bit too much before you got here,” Quackity gestures with a flippant twist of his wrist, “You know how he gets. Right, Dream?” 

“Um- yeah. Ha,” Dream responds just a little too late to be strictly normal, shoulders tight and nearly pulled to his ears under Quackity’s arm. “Practice- I’m a little out of shape.” 

“You sure?” Dream’s breathing hitches and Quackity steps forward, just a little bit, eyes still fixed firmly on Michael’s own even as he shifts his gaze to try and look at Dream. “We can take a break if you need, Dream-”

“I’m fine!” Dream smiles with a little stuttered breath that turns into a small laugh, “It’s- uh. It’s fine. Thanks Michael, but we can practice. Not much time left to waste, you know?”

“You sure, Dream?” Quackity says, suddenly, voice soft and sincere. “I guess it has been a while since you’ve been able to practice- you sure you don’t need a break?”

Dream shakes his head firmly. “No- it’s fine. Really- where’s Sapnap? He should be coming soon, right?”

“If you say so, pal,” Quackity replies, doubt coloring his tone as he pulls out his communicator. “I told Sapnap to come, he replied a couple minutes back; he should be here soon, I think. You want to go meet him at spawn?”

Dream nods, and they begin to set out towards the center of the server, Quackity and Dream quickly taking the lead as Michael falls back. After a minute, Quackity falls into casual conversation, rambling about something as Dream nods, Michael trailing behind the two of them and adding his own input as he sees fit. Sapnap arrives soon after, and the noise level picks up even more after that, Sapnap and Quackity falling into an easy rhythm of banter and quips as they set out to practice Battle Box and Parkour Tag, carefully working their way through the different games under Dream’s tutelage and advice. 

And here’s the thing- Michael isn’t stupid. Yeah, he’d hardly consider himself a top tier MCC player, and he’ll be the first to say that he’s nowhere near qualified to deal with the literal laundry list of issues that affect every member of the SMP, but even so, he’s not clueless. He’s good at looking at multiple sides of a situation, doesn’t easily give into intimidation or manipulation, and he’s observant as all hell. So when Quackity wraps his hand around Dream’s wrist, fingers wrapping all the way around until his knuckles pale, when Dream winces, muscles in his arm locking before letting it go limp, not protesting when Quackity drags him forward except in the tiny, tight expressions that flit across his face every few moments, tight and gasping and shaky at the corners - Michael notices. 

“See you at the tourney, yeah?” Quackity calls to him after practice with a wink before clapping Dream on the back, Michael watching silently as the muscles of Dream’s neck pull tight, head ducking to his chest. “Good job, big guy,” he says, laughing. “Keep this up for tomorrow and we’ll be good.”

“Mmhm,” Dream mutters after a brief second, “We’re- we’re gonna win.”

“Betting on it, pal,” Quackity replies, voice light in a way that completely fails to explain Dream’s full-body flinch. “MCC, huh? Can’t fucking wait.”

“See you tomorrow, Quackity,” Michael says as he presses DreamSMP on his server list, pretending that a chill doesn’t crawl down his spine at the smile that the other man throws his way in return. 

---

There’s no real easy answer.

Michael comes to that conclusion at some point in the middle of the night, restless and pumped on way too much adrenaline to go to sleep. He can’t outright antagonize Quackity, can’t let him know he knows something’s up - not when Quackity had already spent the majority of practice keeping one dark, narrowed eye on him at all times, lips pursed in a slight frown whenever he thought Michael wasn’t looking. He’s not stupid; whatever’s happening between Dream and Quackity is secret, and kept that way for a reason. His mind goes back to the brief flashes of anxiety that had moved over Dream’s face before he could react fast enough to school them back into a carefully neutral position; whatever it is, he doubts it bodes well for Dream in the slightest. 

Unfortunately, his hands are pretty damn tied. He knows public opinion on the masked man in the server is overwhelmingly negative, but has no damn idea how far it extends. How many people are in on whatever’s happening in that damn prison? How many people know what would make Dream, bold and bright and recklessly confident in all of Michael’s (rather limited) memories, into someone so quiet, unimposing, nervous? His head spins with the possibilities, with the ever-present reminder to not make a fuss, let the tournament pass on, to never, ever let anyone find out what’s going on within the SMP. Should he do anything at all? 

Too soon, it’s morning, and he drags himself out of bed with a groan to glare at the sun streaming through his window. Somewhere, Quackity and Dream and Sapnap are also waking up, are preparing to compete in one of the biggest damn tournaments to exist. Michael sighs, glancing over to where he’s set out his outfit, freshly pressed and waiting. Any other day, and he’d probably be fucking ecstatic. Here, he buries his head in his hands, muffling a frustrated groan against the palm of his hands. 

He loves MCC, but he sure as hell doesn’t like whatever the hell is going on with the rest of his team. 

Getting into the server goes smoothly enough. The outfit is comfortable and looks damn good, props to whoever made the thing, and the sight of the multicolored crowd successfully manages to tamp down some of his nerves. He busies himself with saying hi to all of the members waiting in the lobby, happy for the chance to talk to some people he hasn’t seen in ages, feels the night of anxieties wash away with every stupid joke told and burst of laughter drawn from his lungs. 

They come back the moment Scott steps up in front of the lobby. “Teams, it’s time to head to your team rooms! The tournament will begin in fifteen minutes,” Scott says, expression sunny and bright, “we’re wishing you all luck for a great performance today! May the best team win!” 

In a flurry of movement, they’re all whisked to their rooms for a final few minutes of preparation and morale-boosting, and Michael enters the glorified dressing room to Quackity, Dream, and Sapnap already standing there, seemingly in the middle of conversation. 

“You ready to win?” Sapnap yells, and Quackity whoops, and Michael manages a small cheer of his own. They’re all visibly nervous; Quackity has scarcely stopped moving, pacing from one side of the room to the next; Sapnap is basically jumping in place where he stands. Dream stands at the very back of the room, looking tense; Michael directs a wave his way and gets a small one in return. 

“Game plan, game plan,” Quackity mutters, “do we know what games we’re playing first? Dream?”

He nods at Dream, and Dream stands up straighter, mouth falling open.

“Oh- um,” he hesitates, a strand of hair flopping forwards as he tilts his head in thought. “We’ll want to save Parkour Tag and Battle Box towards the end- maybe something more high-risk at the beginning, but not first, just to boost morale,” his teeth catch on his bottom lip, “Maybe something like To Get To The Other Side? If they have that- or Build Mart, if we can get it out of the way.” He shakes his head. “If that’s alright- I mean-”

“Great,” Quackity cuts in smoothly. “Sapnap? Michael? Does that sound good to you?”

Sapnap flashes a thumbs up, and Michael nods. “Yeah, sounds great. Thanks, Dream.”

Dream’s head snaps towards him, mouth slightly open in shock. The sight of it makes Michael’s gut twist uncomfortably; there’s something about how surprised he is, at the nervous hesitancy with which he spoke that was nothing like what Michael remembers of his easy leadership in that MCC with Techno, that doesn’t sit right at all in his stomach. Even with his expression largely hidden, there’s no mistaking the clear, genuine surprise on his face at the idea of someone thanking him - Michael tries to tell himself that he’s reading too much into it as Quackity continues to speak. 

“We’re going to win,” he grins, just a little too sharp at the edges, “so get out there and play like your lives depend on it, yeah?” 

Sapnap cheers, and again, Michael and Dream follow. It’s not until he’s outside the door, within the clamor of screaming teams and people counting down with the timer that Michael realizes that Quackity was staring at Dream the entire time. 

---

Michael curses, frustrated, when he’s knocked off a platform again, making sure to flip Krinios the bird before he falls into the Void entirely. When he makes it to the other side, Quackity and Dream are already deep in conversation - if you can call it that. Even from here, it looks worryingly one-sided.

“-were you thinking, falling off there-” Quackity’s hand is on Dream’s shoulder, Dream standing stock-still in front of him, “you better be taking this seriously, Dream.”

“Hey- sorry about that,” Michael calls with a wave, “I swear Krinios had it out for me. At least I made it across, right?” 

Quackity turns, startled, and in the split-second that it takes for him to register Michael’s appearance, his expression smooths over into something friendlier, more inviting. “Michael!” He says, enthusiastic, and it’s like the anger that had filled his words just seconds before was never there at all. “Don’t- don’t worry about it, man. We all kinda dropped the ball on that one, right Dream?” 

The words should be encouraging, just simple ribbing between teammates. Dream’s mask is still ducked down, facing the floor, shoulders slightly hunched in. 

“Um- Sapnap did pretty good,” Dream says, quiet, “he got top ten, right?” 

Michael looks over to where Sapnap is standing a little ways away, seemingly busy typing on his communicator. Quackity laughs, sharp and loud. 

“True,” he punches Dream lightly on the upper arm, and Michael watches the way he freezes the second the fist makes contact with his jacket, “come on, man, you’re losing your touch. You really gonna let yourself get beat by Sapnap?” he shakes his head, still laughing as he pulls open his communicator. “Jesus- even I beat you in that last round. Watch your spot, Dream, I’m coming for you.” 

“I mean,” Michael says when a second passes and it becomes clear Dream isn’t going to respond, “Dream was doing pretty well with the last two rounds, right? I thought I saw his name pretty far up there.” 

Quackity takes a second before responding, again, staring at Michael oddly as he does. “That’s true,” he concedes, “hey- I was just making a joke, don’t worry. It’s all for fun, right Dream?”

His gaze goes to Dream, and automatically, Michael follows. Dream seems to startle under the attention, twitching Quackity’s direction in the awkward silence that results. Michael watches as the mask slants slightly to face Quackity, as Quackity looks back at him with an intense, unreadable expression, shoulders strangely tense. Whatever unsaid conversation that seems to pass between them is entirely lost on Michael as Dream finally responds with a sudden, almost strangled bark of laughter. 

“Yeah- just jokes,” his fingers twist over one another, hands held close together in front of his body, “Though Qu- Q’s right, I- I should probably pick it up. We’re playing to win.” 

A ding alerts them to the end of the round, and Michael steadies himself in preparation for the teleport to the next map. As he turns, he catches Quackity’s expression, once again, and the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he continues to look at Dream. 

“Good luck,” he calls just before they enter the next round, and tries not to think too much about what he’s saying it for. 

---

They manage pretty well for the rest of To Get To The Other Side, finishing with a second place overall that got cheers from Sapnap and even a slight smile from Dream. Hole in the Wall, on the other hand, has been a lot less successful - though Michael will be the first to say that it’s his fault. His practice in the last few months has been lackluster (at best) and it definitely showed in the arena. 

He leans over the railing, watching Dream and Sapnap through the crowd of participants left that have yet to be knocked out by the giant walls of slime. Quackity’s standing next to him, having been similarly thrown off the platform early in the round, expression tight and lips set in a small frown, and looking at him for too long makes Michael uneasy so he looks down at the arena again. They’re in the last round, and they’re supposed to be making callouts anyway for their teammates still participating below.

Without thinking, once again, Michael looks over at Dream. Sue him, he knows the guy best and Dream has been acting odd all day, to put it lightly. Even ignoring the part of him that’s screaming that something’s wrong, that there’s something up that has everything to do with the beanie-wearing man standing besides him, it only takes a few minutes of observation to see that Dream is - for the lack of a better word - off. Michael watches as he vaults over another wall, only barely managing to bring himself to his feet in time on the other side. Dream’s movements - even to his untrained eye - have always been fluid, effortless. He jumped and vaulted and ran like gravity didn’t exist, like every physics-bending maneuver he made was as easy as breathing. Michael remembers watching him sprint over the parkour course before, time completely unmatched as he appraised each obstacle and basically flew his way through, sounding hardly even winded when he whooped loudly in victory from the top of the salmon ladder. In total contrast, Dream jerks away from the coming wall again, movements sloppy and harsh as he scrambles to the other side of the disc-shaped arena. He’s still fast, and still making jumps, but everything is strangely angled where it had once been fluid, stopping and starting suddenly, moving in bursts of speed and then skidding to sudden stops. 

“WEST!” Quackity shouts, and Michael watches as Dream’s head turns jerkily at the noise before he dives out of the way of the incoming wall and manages, barely, to twist around the side. Michael winces at the tumble he takes on the opposite side, clutching his chest slightly as he stands back up again. 

“North!” Michael calls, because he should probably actually help his teammates, huh, and Dream manages to move around this one better, jumping through a hole in the wall and tucking and rolling as he lands. “Nice jump- East!” 

It’s an easy wall, thankfully, and both Sapnap and Dream visibly take a breath as they stand in place for the wall to pass over them. As it passes, a droning buzz comes from the speakers, and the walls below them speed up. 

“South-to your right!” Michael shouts as they turn, eyes turning between all of the false walls before finally focusing on the right one, his shout echoed by a similar one from Quackity. At each one of the calls from the man besides him, Dream seems to tighten further, movements increasingly erratic as he dodges and weaves around the walls. There’s still a lot of people left - Michael follows Dream through the crowd with a frown, watching as he and Sapnap jump the next wall, Dream’s foot nearly catching on the top edge. 

“West-” Dream flinches, jumping over the two-high wall at the last possible second, landing completely off-balance on the other side and falling to the ground. He scrambles to his feet, but there’s already a wall at the west edge of the platform - his head turns, still searching for the wall - Quackity yells.

“LEFT!”

Something in Dream’s movements seem to shift, even in the distance - Michael watches as he immediately, almost robotically, steps to the left at Quackity’s voice, not even jumping, not turning his head to take in his surroundings, just moving instinctually at the words, and slams into the coming wall hard enough to get flung into the middle hole in the platform. Quackity curses, fist crashing into the railing as Dream falls and the chat message shows on their communicators, and a second later he’s materialized beside them, face oddly slack and mask focused somewhere faraway. 

“Shit,” Dream mutters when he seems to come back into himself, shaking his head and then turning to the two of them, still by the railing, “Dammit. Sorry, I-“ 

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael cuts in before Quackity can speak. “You did good.” 

“I-” Dream catches Quackity’s gaze, then pushes his head away, mask facing the ground. Something about it and his raised shoulders and the dark, angry glare that Quackity directs over the railing when Michael looks back makes him shift in place, uneasy. “Could’ve done better, ha. Sorry.” 

The three of them watch, silent, as Sapnap continues to compete. He manages to get pretty damn far, making it to the top three, but getting knocked off-balance by a wall and off the platform just before the timer sounds. Michael cringes back at the sound of it over the speakers, watches the other contestants settle into place, panting, in victory.

“Great job, Sapnap,” Michael shouts when he materializes in front of them, and the other two are quick to echo his sentiments. If they sound a little duller than they should be, if Quackity’s jaw seems clenched and Dream’s all coiled up like a spring, far too tense, it’s from placing lower than they wanted and slipping in the rankings, not anything else.

Keep your head down, Michael reminds himself, and everything’s gonna be fine. And if the words ring more and more hollow with every repetition, well, that’s for him to ignore and for everyone else to never, ever find out. 

---

Buildmart is chosen next, which they all groan at, but at least it’s going to be out early and not left to ruin all of their scores later. Michael takes his place at his build, one third from the left side - it’s some abomination of colored glass and white concrete meant, if he is to guess, to emulate a stained glass window. He’s between Dream and Sapnap, the former positioned in front of a flower-dotted grass field with a picnic table, the latter staring down a miniature car with black concrete for tires and stone buttons for detailing. He breathes a steady breath as they await the countdown, already planning for his trip to the Colors section to grab materials for his build and the others’- Buildmart isn’t his strongest game, but it’s not his worst either, and he’s damn well going to try his best. 

He skids into the portal with an armful of colored concrete and glass, spilling half of its contents inside a chest before running to his build. He pulls himself to the crafting bench to craft - he squints at his build - he needs four red glass panes and 3 yellow, right. As he brings the panes to his inventory and begins laying out the frame of the build in concrete, he looks over to Dream, who is noticeably struggling with placing the flowers in his build and getting the placements to match that of the original. He knocks away a white tulip with a muffled curse, sounding frantic as he looks back to the original, and places it again to no avail. 

It seems that his struggle hasn’t only caught Michael’s attention, as the statue to the leftmost side of the room explodes in gold coins and confetti - Quackity has finished his build and is now looking at Dream with narrowed eyes. Dream places the flower again, and the build refuses to respond. Quackity’s gaze narrows further, and he opens his mouth-

“Hey Quackity!” Michael starts speaking before he’s even noticed that he’s opened his mouth, fumbling as he regains awareness of what he’s doing and tries to find a direction for his sentence to go, “do you have any concrete?”

Quackity looks at him like he’s grown a second head, which is fair, considering there’s a block of white concrete pretty obviously visible in his hand. “Um- no? Weren’t you supposed to go to Colors?”

Dream finally manages to place the tulip where it belongs, and the build between them disappears in another explosion of gold glitter. Michael laughs awkwardly. 

“Sorry- haha. I got a little mixed up.” He places the last piece of white concrete, watching as his own build disappears. A little wooden cottage takes its place, made of what appears to be just oak wood and cobblestone. “Are you going to get wood? Or should I?”

“I- You get wood,” Quackity shakes his head, visibly frustrated, “And I’ll get stone. We have to hurry, we’re falling behind.” 

After that, Michael finds it a little too easy - or maybe not easy, but at least tolerable, to interrupt when Quackity looks a little like he’s about to fall on the side of being angry versus just annoyed, stepping between his angry glares at Dream with a forced smile and an incessant string of annoying questions- 

“Hey Quackity, do you have any spare iron?”

“Hey Quackity, I think you placed that a little too far back.”

“Hey Quackity, can you take a look to see what I placed wrong?” 

It’s not perfect. It’s hardly even functional; Michael knows that Quackity has begun with the habit of directing death glares at his back whenever he thinks he’s not looking, his responses to Michael’s questions becoming more and more clipped, often paired with irritated grumbles and sighs. Sapnap, when Michael looks at him, seems largely engrossed with his own builds, but he’s also begun looking over at the two of them with a vaguely dissatisfied expression, and Dream only seems to be getting more jumpy with every frustrated growl out of Quackity’s mouth. Even Michael’s forced levity and falsely ignorant questions can’t do much against Quackity’s anger when they walk out of Buildmart dead last for the minigame, dropping their team all the way down to seventh in the overall rankings, and the tension within the team as they walk out - Quackity nearly stomping, Dream following with his hands wringing around each other and head ducked fearfully - is almost enough to make Michael scream. He looks at the scoreboard with a worried expression as he enters the Decision Dome, trying to quell the sinking feeling in his gut. 

There’s still five more games to go, and he’s not sure how long they can last before something snaps. 

---

Battle Box is chosen next, and they react to the game with quiet cheers and slightly grim faces. Michael’s been in enough MCCs to know that this game, of any, is crucial - after their lacking performances in the last two games, a good showing at Battle Box will be crucial to pull them back into the competition and raise morale. With Sapnap and Dream, if this were any normal game, they should be able to sweep through a good amount of the competition without much effort. As it is, though, Michael looks at the two more combat-oriented members of his team with a worried expression, the two barely even able to meet each other’s eyes. Their interactions so far have been less than promising- if they can’t hold it together for this round, well. 

Michael shakes his head. They’ll do fine. They have to. 

Even so, the first round only seems to confirm his concerns - they get woolrushed almost immediately, and in Dream and Sapnap’s stumbling to get to mid, nearly crashing into each other and focusing their efforts on the same player by accident, the other team manages to fill out the wool, sending them back to the spawn box even more frustrated than before. 

“Amazing teamwork, guys,�� Quackity snarks immediately, and Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Like you did that much.” 

Sapnap is still staring at Dream oddly, Dream turning his head to avoid his gaze. The two of them look largely oblivious to Quackity and his whole deal, even as Quackity whirls around to give him the stink eye. 

“You didn’t do anything either, if I remember correctly,” Quackity mutters, and Michael shrugs. 

“Fair.” 

A ding alerts them to the round’s end, and they resign themselves to preparing for the next round. Michael picks the extra arrows from the wall, knowing that no one else will want the kit, and watches as Dream anxiously runs his hands over the crossbow. 

The next round goes better, barely; Michael and Quackity end up knocked out pretty early, but Dream and Sapnap manage to kill the rest of the team soon after. He watches from the box as they fill in the wool, Dream looking awfully tense as he shears away the white wool for Sapnap to fill it with red. Quackity watches them both with a tight expression, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. 

Michael turns away, ignoring him, going back to watching Dream and Sapnap still standing within the arena. Both of them look awkward, oddly out of step with each other - Michael’s not watched them fight much, but he knows that they have a reputation as a pair, was there for the Sky Battle round where they completely wiped through the competition. Even here, Sapnap moves forward and Dream flinches back - there’s something heavy and tense between them, lingering in the few words they’ve spoken to each other, if they’ve even spoken to each other at all, one always rushing forward too fast or following just a little too slow. They’re still brilliant fighters, almost unrivaled in hand-to-hand combat and with swords, but the faltering communication is sure to hurt them more in the future. 

His worries come true just three rounds later, the two in between being narrow wins for their team, each a little more shaky than would be comfortable. Michael has found himself easing off the worst of his anxiety in verbally sparring with Quackity, jabbing at the other with offhand remarks and little needling jokes to keep his attention off the other two, especially as his glare has become more pronounced and his words more angry. Even so, nothing he does or can do will fix the odd tension between Dream and Sapnap, whose communication remains as stilted and awkward as ever. 

They’re facing a stronger team, PVP wise, with Punz and Seapeekay, and Michael ends up falling in a bow duel against Jack. He watches as the Captain falls to a potion by Sapnap, then as Jack is taken out by a crossbow bolt courtesy of Dream, just before Quackity falls to a well-timed bow shot from the opposing team. 

That leaves the strongest PVPers to battle it out, and Dream and Sapnap manage to team up and kill CPK - but not without taking a nasty damage potion to the face that must leave the two of them low. Michael watches Punz, booking it to mid with a crossbow, anxiously - both of them would be a oneshot with the thing, and on the condition that he takes no damage before fighting with either of them outright, he’s probably got enough health to hold out a few hits. 

Sapnap pulls out a health potion, and Michael grins - that’ll be good for the two of them, and should secure them the win - only for him to gesture roughly with his sword and for Dream to stagger backwards, panic flashing over his face. He only seems to grow more fearful at the sound of glass shattering on the ground, falling backwards further - far enough to be largely out of range of health pot - and in their shock, Punz manages to catch both of them off guard and nail Sapnap with a crossbow bolt that downs him for the round before similarly dispatching Dream in two hits of his sword.

Sapnap explodes upon respawn in the box - “What was that? I had a health pot!”

“I-” Dream fumbles, face still oddly pale, “Sorry I didn’t- I- I-”

“We had that round!” Sapnap’s arms flail forward as he gestures angrily, Dream freezing further as one hand skims past his shoulder. “I can’t believe- I had a health pot! Punz was on, like, half! We could’ve killed him!”

“Easy, easy,” Quackity moves forward, putting a hand on both of their shoulders - Sapnap seems to relax immediately, while Dream, if anything, only looks more tense. “It’s time for the next round - we’ll talk about this later, alright?” 

Dream nods, movements overly tense, and Quackity flashes a toothy smile his way as Sapnap moves back, still mumbling to himself. He and Quackity move to talk in the back corner, words quiet enough that Michael cannot make them out, and something sick and cold slithers over his spine. Sapnap and Quackity are fiancés, aren’t they? 

Michael looks over at Dream, mask still covering his face as he looks away through the glass to the arena, shoulders still tight as Michael’s pretty sure they’ve been for as long as he’s seen him since he came onto the server. He remembers the panic that make itself obvious on his face every time Quackity came up to him, even as covered as it is, the similar- if not the same- fear that had painted his face when he respawned fresh off of the Battle Box round after Sapnap’s sword had passed a little too close to his body. 

Quackity and Dream- he’s sure, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, that there’s something going on there, dark and dreadful and poisonous. Who’s to say that Sapnap isn’t involved, as well? 

---

They finish Battle Box decently well, but not as well as they’d hoped, pulling them up to fifth place with a decently large gap between them and fourth. Quackity and Dream disappear immediately as the Audience Votes begin coming in, leaving Sapnap and Michael to stand awkwardly in the lobby to wait for the rest of their team to come back. Michael watches the crowd for a glimpse of Quackity and Dream, comes up empty. A sigh fizzles through his teeth as he looks up into the sky, the endless blue doing little to ease his nerves - he’s worried, even if he doesn’t want to think about it, for his teammates. For Dream. 

It doesn’t take a genius to see that the man is scared of Quackity, that there’s an odd sort of history there that Michael conveniently has no information about. Whatever it is, it’s left Dream unsure and uncharacteristically nervous, left the entire team floundering without proper leadership to tie them all together. Really, a part of him knows that the Championships should be the least of his concerns - if he were braver, or a little better at combat, or a little less inclined to just let things pass as they always have, then he’d be raising a fuss. Getting in the way, talking to Dream, doing something other than making backhanded compliments to Quackity that he’s sure have been doing little more than annoy the man further. 

“Michael?” Sapnap comes within his line of sight, lips pressed together in a carefully put-together expression that Michael is sure will collapse the moment they’re away from others’ prying eyes, “Can we speak for a moment?”

Michael forces another easy smile to his face as he turns towards his teammate, feels a little disgusted at the amount of them he’s had to use to simply function with the rest of his team. “Sure! Where to?”

They walk at a brisk pace to the team room, Sapnap’s eyes focused forwards the entire time, not speaking. If he’s being honest, it’s a little awkward, but the lighthearted comment on his tongue to break the silence dies out the minute Sapnap closes the door and looks back at him with fierce, focused eyes boring into him. 

“What’s your deal?” He hisses immediately, words pitched low even though he doesn’t really have to - there’s no one nearby, and the team rooms are decently soundproofed. Michael feels his hackles rising as Sapnap’s arms cross in front of him, eyes still focused on his own as he talks. “I’m not going to lie- I don’t know you that well, even though you’re on the SMP now, but can you quit it with Quackity already?”

“Quit what?” Michael snarks - sue him - matching Sapnap’s tone with irritation of his own. 

“Don’t- you’ve been antagonizing Quackity all day,” Sapnap’s hand runs through his hair, messing up his hair and tangling it into knots, “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re kind of in the middle of a competition here? So it’d be really nice if you could save the fighting for until after we’re done?”

“Says you?” Michael can’t help the retort this time, huffing irately at the offended expression that flashes over the other’s face, “I don’t really know if you’ve noticed, but your teamwork has been a little less than stellar, today. Pot calling the kettle black, much?”

“What-” Sapnap looks confused, even through his anger, gesturing more and more wildly. “What do you even mean?”

“Oh, so are we just ignoring what just happened in Battle Box then?” 

Sapnap’s eyes flash as he closes into himself again, hands gripping at his upper arms as he crosses his arms in front of his chest once again. “That- that’s different. That’s because of Dream.”

“Oh, just keep blaming it on the other guy, why don’t you?”

“No-” Sapnap shakes his head furiously. “You haven’t been on here for nearly as long, you don’t get it, Michael. Dream- he’s-,” Sapnap flails, and Michael groans at the familiar words. 

“Dream’s what? I was on the team with the guy before, you know. It’s kind of the reason why he invited me in the first place?” He raises an eyebrow. “We worked together perfectly well then - am I supposed to believe that his self-proclaimed ‘best friend’ can’t do the same?” 

“You don’t understand,” Sapnap repeats, expression hard and oddly far away, “Dream- he’s changed- he’s done so many terrible things. I don’t know what he’s said to convince you, but he’s bad news, man. He’s hurt- so many people.” 

“Oh- you want to talk about hurting people?” 

Michael isn’t quite sure what comes over him - only really realizes a white-hot flash of rage lancing through his chest, a sleepless night and half a competition’s  worth of anxiety and frustration and build up combining into a sizzling spike of fury that briefly tinges his vision red. 

“How about the way Dream looks like he’s about to keel over whenever anyone gets close to him? How about how he flinches back at literally every loud noise and fast movement? How about how Quackity’s been making these stupid, angry comments at him for the entire competition that make him freeze for a minute each time? Or how about when you were in Battle Box and Dream backed away from your sword like he thought you were gonna drive it through his chest?” Michael barely feels himself stepping forward with each word, jabbing his index finger into the other’s chest. “You want to talk about hurting people? How about you go talk to that fiancé of yours and then come back to talk?” 

A loud, droning buzz comes over the speakers, alerting them of the end of the break. Michael steps back, face flushed in embarrassment, before the world whirls away and they’re teleported back into the Decision Dome. 

He adamantly refuses to meet Sapnap’s eyes as Quackity and Dream materialize in the sector with them, Quackity’s hand clamped around Dream’s upper arm as the other man keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, looking even more panicked and frozen than before the break. 

“You ready to win?” Quackity laughs, and Michael watches as his hand tightens around the sleeve of Dream’s jacket, knuckles paling from the strain. 

“Yeah,” Michael tries to cheer, and it feels like ash on his tongue. “Let’s do this.” 

---

Survival Games ends up being picked next - Quackity and Sapnap quickly pull up to the front of the group, close enough to be within eyesight but too far to really pick up their conversation. Michael keeps an eye out for the reddish glow of their bodies as they scout the surrounding areas for chest, staying back with Dream as they look at the other side of the road. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a smug sort of satisfaction of Sapnap seemingly confronting Quackity about whatever the hell has been going on, as awkward as his whole outburst had been. As it is, some time with Dream is nice without Quackity watching over his shoulder like a hawk - he directs a small, genuine smile at the man by his side that Dream seems to do a double take at before shyly returning it with one of his own. 

“There- I think I see a chest,” Michael points under a lamppost, running to the wooden box and flicking the lid upwards. He pulls out a chain chestplate that he promptly puts on himself, then throws over the iron boots to his teammate as well as a small stone axe that he’s sure Dream will make better use of. “We should probably catch up to the others - don’t want to be caught off guard while separated.”

Dream nods, and the two of them pick up the pace before finding another chest that Dream rummages through, this time, finding an iron sword that Michael takes for himself and a cake. 

“You’ve been doing really well so far,” Michael says after a few minutes of quiet, words becoming more firm when Dream looks up at him with a surprised expression. “Seriously- you’ve been doing great, man.”

“Thanks,” Dream smiles, words quiet and terribly sincere, and the sinking pit in Michael’s gut returns at the tone. “Not as good as I should, though. I’ve been underperforming a lot,” he laughs a little at the words, but even to Michael’s ears it rings hollow. “It’s not over yet, though.”

“No it’s not,” Michael concedes, rearranging his inventory as they run. “But it’s good enough, man, really - just look at my rankings.”

Dream huffs. “You’ve been doing good, Michael.”

“And you’ve been doing a hell of a lot better than me,” Michael tips his head in his direction. “Give yourself some more credit, man. You’ve been playing well.”

Dream smiles again, but even now the corners of his mouth seem tight, tense. “I need to play better, though, if we want to win,” he says, matter-of-fact, analytical to a damn fault. Michael rolls his eyes, but nods to concede the point. 

“Sure, but that goes for all of us, Dream,” he shakes his head. “And it’s okay if we don’t win, you know?”

“No.” 

Michael turns, frowning. Dream’s tone has become oddly flat, eyes dead as he continues to stare at the pavement under their feet. He seems to be chewing on his lip anxiously, startled out of his own thoughts when he looks up to meet Michael’s gaze. “I mean- I don’t know. I really have- want to win.” 

There’s something so carefully worded about the admission, quiet and scraped open and raw in the slow sincerity of the words. Michael wants to poke at it, wants to understand what’s left him so unsure of every step, what determination lies behind the words that has left desperation clinging to every shallow breath he draws. A crack of thunder on the horizon, heralding a player’s death, reminds him that now is not the time. 

Keep your head down. 

“Alright,” he smiles thinly, hoping that the fracturing, yawning pit of emptiness in his chest isn’t obvious in the words. “Then we’re going to win.” 

---

Michael skids to a stop at the finish line, feeling the elytra deequip as he’s thrown into spectator mode. He runs his hands through his wind-tousled hair, feeling it strain against his fingers as he roughly finger-combs it back into place. Dream and Sapnap are off to the side, standing next to each other but seemingly not speaking - Michael smiles as he floats over, still shaking the adrenaline off from the race. 

“Hey,” the two look up, smile in recognition, and Dream waves; there’s a small smile on his face, strained but present. “You both did really good!” 

“Thanks, Michael,” Dream laughs, earnest, “I did decent, I guess- haha. Top ten at least.” 

Sapnap whoops. “We’re popping off!” Michael cheers in agreement, and their efforts manage to pull Dream’s smile a little wider as he ducks his head to look away again. 

“Thanks, guys.” 

They watch as Quackity flies through the finish line, appearing in front of them and shaking his arms out as he gets his bearings. 

“Geez- that trident,” he shakes his head, looks up. “Hey, there you guys are. How’d we do?” 

“Dream got seventh,” Sapnap scrolls through his comm, looking through the rows of contestants and their times as they come in, interspersed by the occasional chat message, “And I got 10th. Michael got- 28th, I think? And you got 32nd.” 

“Hmm,” Quackity hums, “What do you think, Dream? Is that good enough to pull us to Dodgebolt?”

Once again, Michael watches as Dream stiffens under the scrutiny, head ducking down and looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Um- I don’t know,” Dream mumbles, “I messed up a trident- fell into the void once, probably could’ve done better otherwise-” his voice trails off, tensing further as Quackity takes his usual spot by his side, jabbing an elbow none-too-lightly into his ribs. 

“But you didn’t, though,” Quackity says, tone flippant, “so what do you think? With those placements- is it going to be enough?” 

“Hey, we did great, man,” Michael glares at him, more forward than he’d usually be - but all he can see is the shoulder that he has pressed against Dream’s arm, the way Dream’s stood stock still since the moment he made contact, “Lay off of Dream, would you? He did great.”

“Yeah, Q,” Michael’s eyebrows raise in surprise as Sapnap chimes in from the side, rising further when Sapnap moves forward to link his arm with Quackity’s own and half-drag him away from Dream. “Chill out, man, we popped off. We’re gonna fucking win this, ok?”

Quackity’s lips press together; he’s still smiling, but there’s no mistaking the seething darkness that lingers in his narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows, gaze still trained on the pale off-white disk of Dream’s mask. Still, with the rest of the team against him, he’s in a losing fight and he knows it; Michael watches as he visibly backs down, rolling his shoulders back as he lets Sapnap pull him further back. 

“We’re going to fucking win this,” he repeats, and Michael wonders how he manages to make the words sound so much like a threat.

---

“Sky battle,” Sapnap calls as the decision dome below them lights up in confirmation of the penultimate game, expression immediately becoming more focused as he turns back to the rest of the team. “Alright- strats, what are we thinking?”

“There’s the iron at spawn,” Dream starts, interrupted by the teleport to the Sky Battle arena, making him cut himself off comically and take a second to shake off the resulting disorientation, “And then there’s the iron in the nearby island. We gotta pick one, tower as soon as we can.”

“Got it,” Sapnap looks down, seemingly calculating, before looking up again - Michael has heard him compared to fire before, but he thinks this is the first time he’s really seen it; there’s a veritable blaze burning in his eyes as he looks at each member of the team, easily taking charge as they prepare for the first round. “Same buddy system as Survival Games - Q, stick with me, Michael, stick with Dream. I’ll tower to the next island- Dream, you good with getting the iron at spawn and crafting armor for us?” 

Dream startles, before flashing a small thumbs up at the other - Sapnap smiles wider, teeth bared dangerously.

“This is our game,” he cheers, and Michael enthusiastically whoops in reply, “we’re winning this, you got that team? Let’s go!” 

This, Michael thinks, is the way the games should’ve gone - they jump into action upon the start of the game, Michael watching as Dream races through both chests on the spawn island, getting the iron and jumping down cleanly with a water bucket before following Sapnap’s bridge to the other island. He tosses over a pair of leggings and boots as he lands, then takes Sapnap’s excess iron to craft the other pieces of iron for himself and Sapnap as the other man begins shooting at opposing teams. Their communication is near wordless, simple one- or two-word requests communicating all they need as they follow each other seamlessly into the main arena area, sealing off their entrance as they search the ring for other teams.

Sapnap, especially, seems to have shifted - instead of waiting for Dream to take the lead, he seems comfortable barrelling on forward on his own, trusting for Dream to follow his steps. Michael watches as the two of them easily work through the two lagging members of Orange, shooting through a gap in the wall to catch an unsuspecting Yellow player chased by the border. Michael ends up dying to an unlucky block of TNT placed on his head - curses out what appears to be Quig, bounding over to the other side of the arena, and follows Dream and Sapnap as they continue to fight their way through the competition. 

It’s not perfect, for sure - Dream hesitates at a bad place a minute later, ending with Sapnap getting 2v1ed and exploding in a flash of red sparkles. Dream is similarly dispatched a few seconds after, and the three of them watch Quackity, caught in the crossfire of two other teams, before he also goes down. 

“Good work, team,” Sapnap says as he appears, disoriented, in spectator mode, and they watch the remaining two teams battling in a rapidly shrinking border before Fruit falls as well, leaving Pink as the winners. “That was close- we’ve got this.” The conviction in his voice leaves no room for argument, and Michael, briefly, feels bad for anyone that stands in the way of it. 

With the second round, they once again fall into rhythm without any major hiccups - someone tries to cut them off before entering the main arena, but are made quick work of by Sapnap’s relentless onslaught. As Michael watches, Dream seems to regain confidence as well, moving more to fight with Sapnap side by side instead of just playing support, tugging him back from a risky play and catching Punz in a nasty combo that does him in when he manages to slip past Sapnap. 

The four of them end up in the final stand off in the middle, but end up getting caught too high up and killed by the border before they can jump down. Sapnap hisses at the narrow defeat, but the disappointment has hardly seemed to dim his determination - if anything, it seems to burn brighter. 

“Last round,” he mutters, and Michael watches as Dream walks up to him, bumping him lightly with his shoulder. 

“This is our game,” he says, a small smile appearing on his face, and Sapnap returns it with a fiery, blinding one of his own. 

“Ours,” he says, and even just standing on the side, watching - Michael believes it. 

Still, his concerns have yet to disappear - they linger in his mind as they jump into an adrenaline-filled last round, jumpy from excitement and victory just within their grasps. Dream is still more jittery than he should be, taking a second more than usual to react to fights, and his teamwork with Sapnap - while good - is still noticeably rusty. Michael’s lips thin at the memory of Dream backing away from Sapnap’s sword in Battle Box, hunched into himself, almost on the floor, with a clearly desperate edge to his expression - and no matter how he tries, he can’t quite manage to shake it off. 

Unfortunately enough, the third round doesn’t bode well for them from the start - Quackity gets bowed off while bridging to the main arena, and upon entrance there they end up flanked, hard, by another team in a conflict that gets Michael killed within seconds. Sapnap and Dream book it to the other side of the arena, where they manage to work through a full team without too much trouble - but the next minute brings another half-team flying at them from the back, catching them in the middle of trying to recuperate. The two focus Dream in the middle of eating a steak, and Michael watches as Dream steps back instead of moving forward to fight, that same shade of fear making his muscles seize as he stands, stock still, watching helplessly as swords fly his way- Michael cries out, but there’s nothing he can do-

Between one blink and the next, Sapnap is standing in front of Dream, a snarl painting his features as he whirls through both players in a fury. Michael watches, awed, as his sword weaves and dances between the two attacking Dream, making quick work of them both until they’re no more than items scattered over the ground, then grabs Dream by the wrist and drags him up a nearby ladder onto the upper floor, plopping him by the wall and then backing off. 

Sapnap stands back as Dream sits against the wall, breathing fast and labored, dropping to his knees with his hands in front of him, palms up, no weapons in hand. Michael watches, frantic, for the signs of any teams nearby - with Dream panicking and Sapnap’s back to the rest of the arena, they’d be easy pickings - but for once, luck seems to be on their side, because no one comes. Dream heaves a breath through his lungs, deep and shuddery - Sapnap watches, lips flat from concern, but doesn’t speak. 

“You good to continue?” he asks, when Dream seems calm enough to recognize his surroundings, and Dream looks up at the words, jaw slack from shock and disorientation, before his head dips in a firm nod. 

“Good,” Sapnap smiles, tight-lipped and fiercely determined, fiercely loyal, as he reaches out a hand that Dream moves to take. “Let’s go fuck them up, yeah? You and me, just like we used to.”

Michael watches, heart in his chest, as they stand together to face the rest of the competition, towering towards the middle and facing off with the remaining teams,  watches as they move forwards through explosions and buckets of lava, coalescing onto the middle island, as they battle through the remaining opponents as one in a clean spiral of clashing blades and flying arrows, fighting with their backs to each other in the center of the arena. He watches as a well-placed fishing rod by Dream knocks their final opponent off the platform, leaving them in the middle, triumphant, as the only remaining team - 

Watches, a brilliant, bubbling laugh in his chest as Dream and Sapnap take their spots in the middle of the arena, standing side by side as Sapnap raises Dream’s hand in victory, both laughing and cheering  into the sky.

---

Their performance in Sky Battle manages to pull them to third - but second place still stands a few hundred coins away, and they watch anxiously as Parkour Tag is chosen as the last game and they are transported over the arena. 

“Last game,” Sapnap calls, “We’ve got this, alright?” 

He gets terse, short nods in return - it’ll be a close game, and even Michael is feeling the pressure. He breathes a soft, quiet breath through his teeth as they prepare, looking over to the opposite team as they choose their hunters and runners. 

“Dream, you up to hunting first four?” Sapnap seems to be watching the effects of his words more, waiting for Dream’s agreement before moving forward, sliding into the position of leader easily when Dream seems to struggle. Dream nods and steps into the hunter’s box, lips pressed together, flat and focused, and Michael turns back to the arena to plan out his route. 

Parkour, by far, is not his strong suit. It hadn’t been his strong suit during Parkour Warrior and sure as hell isn’t it now - he enjoys it well enough, but with the pressure of a hunter on him or the time creeping past and the competition standings hanging over his head like a guillotine, he’s prone to slipping up and he knows it. The map is full of dizzying, multi-colored structures and difficult jumps, the twists and turns of the arena making his head spin. Being good at parkour is more than being good at movement - it involves being able to make split-second decisions and execute them with no time to hesitate. Unfortunately, Michael isn’t particularly good at any of that, so Parkour Tag mostly just stresses him the hell out. 

He sets out to the arena, listening for callouts over comms as he fumbles over the buildings. Halfway through the game, Dream’s voice comes through comms, quiet, focused. 

“Gottem.” 

“Nice, Dream,” Michael smiles, trying not to trip over a particularly hard jump, only to fall to being tagged in the back by the opposing team’s hunter - Ant, if he remembers right. “Sapnap and Q are still in- we’ve got this.”

Once again, each time, Dream races through the opposing team in seconds, seemingly going faster with each round. Michael has heard his reputation as a hunter before, but only now is he really appreciating the extent - the speed at which he manages to dispatch all three opponents is downright terrifying. They manage to win all four rounds, lingering around second place overall on the leaderboards, before Sapnap and Dream switch off for hunting. 

With each round, Michael watches Dream in the lobby, watching as he tenses further in focus and determination and no small degree of fear, but it hadn’t been nearly as obvious in between rounds. Now, with him in the arena with Quackity and himself, Dream’s jumpiness is all that more palpable, adrenaline making him pace and jump in place from where he stands at the edge of the place. The glass lowers, and he explodes into motion, bounding on top of the nearest tower to wait for the hunter to come towards them. 

Michael ends up caught first, early in the round, once again, and resolves to following Dream over the glass to watch his movements and make callouts for the hunter chasing behind him. Watching Dream move through the arena, dodging below fixtures and through tunnels and jumping from tower to tower with seemingly no regard for gravity pulling him down, it’s become all the more obvious that this is his element. He makes another hairpin turn around a pole, kicking himself up over a tower and then diving from it to a nearby building, landing on a ledge inside it, hands clutching the wall - Michael watches, quietly awed, as he outlasts the hunter, landing in small, panting breaths in the lobby. 

“Great work,” he cheers, quiet, as Dream shakes off the last dregs of the adrenaline, all of them watching the leaderboard anxiously, “Just three more rounds, alright?” 

The rounds that follow continue in much of the same vein - Dream, once he’s gotten started, seems near-impossible to chase down; Michael and Quackity provide support, distracting the hunter for as long as they can until they get tagged, but part of him wonders if it’s all even necessary. Dream flies from structure to structure seemingly unhindered by The Laws That Be, expression firm, if a little frantic, as he parkours his way through the arena. To their credit, the hunters chase, and several come pretty close - but Dream, worked up on adrenaline or anxiety or some twisted mix of the two, races over and around the buildings within the arena like his life depends on it.

It’s a surprisingly (if sickeningly) apt description - the skill in parkour is far from unacknowledged on Dream’s record; they all know his reputation with Parkour Warrior, all know that there are little that can match his skill as a traucer - but there’s something newly desperate in the way he runs, the muscles of his body tight and taut even in between rounds, expression permanently tight at the corners from fear. His movements, lacking in their usual fluidity, are made up with sheer speed and mad scrambles up walls that no one else seems to dare replicate. It’s concerning, even to Michael’s untrained eye, how frantic he seems the entire time, the flashes of expressions that he’ll direct towards the hunter like being caught by them will be his end, but- if anything, at least it’s effective. 

Between his parkour and Sapnap’s own skill, they manage to dominate the other teams without much issue, and the bonuses from eliminating the other team first combined with Dream’s survival points each round land them a first place for the game by just a few hundred coins. The four of them watch with bated breaths for the event standings, whooping and cheering together when it shows the red rabbits in second - 

“DODGEBOLT, BABY!” Quackity cheers, loudly, and the rest of them join him, laughing and screaming incoherently, “LET’S FUCKING GO!” 

“LET’S FUCKING GO!” Sapnap punches the air with a loud, resolute whoop of joy, and Dream - still shaking off the jitters of his last round in Parkour Tag - soon joins in with a few cheers of his own. 

Michael watches them all with a smile on his face as they cheer in victory - Dodgebolt has them against the Yellow Yaks, which will be a hard match up, but between Dream and Sapnap’s skill, if they all stay focused, they shouldn’t have any issue. 

They’ve done it. They’ve made it to Dodgebolt - if they keep their heads in the game, then they should win. All he has to do is keep his head down a little longer, long enough to win them the game, long enough for them to go home with new crowns and new coins, long enough for him to go back to living his quaint little life in his quaint little house - going back to heckling the Warden at night and hanging with Bad and Puffy, working on builds and living life away from the rest and pretending that nothing is wrong. The server will go back to normal come tomorrow, and it will all be okay. 

The smile slips off his face. 

They’ve done it. And then they’ll go back to the SMP, and Dream might evade whatever immediate consequences come with losing, but there’s no evidence that whatever’s caused that heartstopping, devastating fear that has characterized his every move is going to stop. They’ll win, and they’ll go back to the SMP, and they’ll keep dying and fighting wars and keep pretending that the world they live in is normal; they’ll go back to the server, and Michael will go back in his house while Dream goes back into his cell directly across from it, still locked in a black box with no way in or out, no means of communication with anyone outside, locked away with the key thrown away for anything to happen with no one to know-

Michael glances over to Dream, to the tense edge of his shoulders that has never left for as long as the tournament has continued and long before. To the grey-faced, grey-eyed inhabitants of the SMP, coming to the Championships with sealed lips and a shared determination to never reveal that anything is wrong, to pretend that things are normal and move on. 

Michael’s hands clench into fists at his side, then unclench, the helplessness cutting through his excitement like a splash of cold water straight through his chest. They’ll win the Championship, and then what? They’ll go back to the server, and then what? 

He looks up at the sky, avoiding the eyes of the rest of his team as they are teleported to the arena. Around him, nothing comes in reply. 

---

“Shit-”

Sapnap disappears in a flourish of red particles, and Michael winces as Dream picks up the arrow he left behind, biting his lip as he watches the opposite side maneuver on the ice.

Both of Dream’s shots hit true, and Michael switches to dodging over the ice as the opposing team begins to shoot. His mind is still buzzing with uncertainty, questions whirling around his skull and making his head spin, the reminder to just let things be raging against the anxiety that has wormed its way deep into his bones for the better part of the day. His performance has fallen a bit as a result, and they’re tied, 2-2, for the last round of Dodgebolt against Yellow - winner takes all. 

He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to tell, but he wants to fall back into the background. He wants to make a difference, but also wants nothing more than to go on pretending that everything is fine. It would be so, so easy to move on and wash his hands of the whole affair - it’s not like anyone else will know, only himself and the guilt that he’s sure will haunt him to remind him of his failures. Is there even anything he can do? He’s no genius at combat, or parkour, or strategy- all he has are his eyes, his ability to see what the hell is happening with no means to change any of it. 

An arrow whizzes towards him, too low to hit, and falls to the ice by his feet. Michael feels it plop into his inventory as he runs past it, shivering slightly from the cold or adrenaline or some mix of the two - not that he can really tell. The other team still has an arrow, the gleaming arrowhead catching the light as the person shooting - Jack, it looks like - moves it from one side to the other, looking for someone to aim. Michael lets the arrow into his hand, feeling its weight.

A sudden shock of clarity. 

He staggers back and nearly trips over his own feet, feeling relief rock his body when he manages to catch his balance - his eyes rake over the rest of his team, still dodging over the ice, completely focused on the opposing side. He worries his lip between his teeth - it’s a risk. It’s a hell of a risk, and if he messes up - they’re fucked. They’re more than fucked. There’s a good chance that this does more harm than good, a good chance that it won’t do anything at all. 

Michael takes a deep breath, and nocks his arrow. 

With his bow pointed to the floor, he doesn’t think anyone’s noticed yet - especially the rest of his team, gazes still trained over the centerline to the other side of the arena. Michael plants his feet, raises his bow, aims - he’s standing still, too still, and he can already see Jack swinging the bow towards him from the corner of his eye, preparing to let the arrow fly directly at him. That’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

Keep your head down. 

Michael lets go, and Quackity manages to turn just in time to see the arrow hit him between his eyes.

Not this time.

Michael just manages a wicked, satisfied smirk before the world disappears in a flash of red. 

---

“What the hell was that?” 

Michael teleports into the middle of the MCC main lobby, finding Quackity already mid-yell in front of the podium, where the Yellow Yaks have taken their places as the winners of the Championships, new, shining crowns on their heads as they greet the crowd with smiles and cheers. Michael turns to where the rest of the team has gathered in the corner, Quackity hissing angrily at Dream, curled into himself against the fence. 

“I- I-”

“You lost us the fucking game, that’s what you did,” Quackity grabs him by the arm, rage painting his features as he yanks Dream closer to him, ignoring the other’s panicked yell at the proximity and flailing to get away. “What the fuck- you had both the arrows. How the fuck did you miss that?” 

“Back the hell off, Quackity.”

Michael steps forward, bodily shoving Quackity out of the way - Dream’s head rises just enough for the two eyes painted on his mask to look  above where they’d been hidden behind his arms, though Michael’s far too lost in his own anger to pay any mind to him at the moment. Quackity turns his furious direction towards Michael, only seeming to get angrier as he meets his eyes. 

“Oh, fuck off, Michael- you-” he rakes a hand through his hair, “You fucking- we fucking lost because of you, you know that? We had that! We were going to win that, you fucker-” 

“And then what, Quackity?” The words Michael had been pushing back the entire day come forth, mixed with his simmering anxiety and muffled anger that he’d been forced to push down, game after game after game, one bubbling mess of emotion underscoring his tone and making Quackity rear back, “Then you’ll go back the SMP and pretend that everything’s fine and dandy? Go back to your shiny little country with a shiny new coin, beat up Dream a few times to work off the adrenaline because, hey, it’s not like anyone else is gonna know if he’s black and blue inside of that shitstain of a prison, is that right?” 

The flash of panic that makes its way over Quackity’s face is more than enough to confirm the worst of Michael’s assumptions, and the rage that has made a home in his chest only burns hotter. 

“What- what the fuck did he say?” Quackity barely manages to catch onto his tone, pressing harder with narrowed eyes and a snarl, “He’s lying, you fucking idiot, that’s all he ever fucking does-” 

“He’s not told me shit,” Michael presses forward, forcefully pushing Quackity away from Dream, who is cowering from both of them behind him, “But you would know a hell of a lot about that, wouldn’t you Quackity?”

“I have no fuckin’ clue what you’re on about, pal,” Quackity shakes his head, hair whipping past his eyes, “And I’d recommend you shut your fucking mouth before you go around hurling baseless accusations- I could have you sued for defamation, you know-”

“Oh, we’re talking law, now? Fine! We’ll talk legalities- how about we start with that casino of yours and work from there?” 

Sapnap moves over, quiet thus far as he watched from the sidelines, and Michael watches as Quackity relaxes, minisculely, at his approach - only to tense further when Sapnap presses a hand to his shoulder, meeting his eyes with blazing eyes staring right at his.

“Q,” Sapnap says, voice uncharacteristically serious, “tell the truth, now- what did you do?”

Quackity laughs - it sounds unsure, even in Michael’s ears, “Sapnap? You can’t tell me you believe-” he waves his hands frantically, “this- this fucking asshole, now, do you hear him? He sounds- he’s literally out of his fucking mind-”

Sapnap shakes his head, firm. “Quackity, I’ll need you to cut the bullshit. What did you do?” 

“He’s backing up Dream, Sapnap,” Quackity focuses his gaze on Sapnap, something creeping up in his tone, sweet and cloying despite the bitter tone, that Michael can’t quite recognize, “You know what Dream is like- he pulled the same shit with you, remember? You and George? Tommy?” He waves a hand at Dream, who ducks down further at the attention, “He hasn’t changed, man! He’s still pulling the same bullshit, still manipulating people for the hell of it- you know, the exact same thing he did to you? Don’t fall for that again, man.”

“I-” Sapnap seems to hesitate, conflict warring over his features. 

“Look at me, Sap - you know what Dream’s like. He pretends to be your friend, makes up some stupid bullshit to justify his shit - Michael hasn’t been around for as long, not like the two of us, remember? He doesn’t know.” Quackity brings his hand to Sapnap’s own, ignoring Michael’s protests as he laces their fingers together, “I care about you, Sap. All of this- I’m just worried that he’ll end up manipulating you again. I’m just trying to protect you.” 

“...liar.” 

“What?”

Sapnap steps back, wrenching his hand out of Quackity’s own. His expression, out of what Michael can see from the sliver of his face that is facing him, is stormy with fury and no small amount of regret - Quackity steps back, unease finally beginning to flicker in the corners of his self-satisfied expression as Sapnap stares him down. 

“You’re a liar, Quackity.” Sapnap draws himself up. “Now, I’m asking this for the last time- what did you do?”

Quackity’s expression stutters, falls, as Sapnap stands back next to Michael, the two of them between him and Dream. His eyes flick between their faces, then to Dream, then back again, frown deepening with every pass he makes between the three of them. Michael keeps his arms crossed in front of his chest, feeling his muscles tense with every second of silence that ticks by, Quackity seeming to grow more and more angry and tense under their scrutiny and unforgiving stances-

-a second passes, and he throws himself forward. 

“Quackity!” 

Michael only manages to throw himself out of the way of the man barrelling towards him just in time - too late, he realizes that he wasn’t Quackity’s intended target. He tackles Dream to the ground, pinning the taller man underneath himself onto the ground in a rough thump that seems to knock all the air out of him. Dream immediately begins to thrash aimlessly, jaw going slack in panic as Quackity levels his arm against his neck, going still as Quackity presses harder against his windpipe. Michael is only barely close enough to pick up what he says over the sound of the surrounding screaming, Sapnap rushing forward to pull Quackity off to no avail-

“-make what I did two weeks ago look like a fucking joke when we get back, going to make you wish you fucking died-” 

The world explodes into white.

When Michael’s vision clears, he’s face to face to the stony face of one of the MCC admins, their status displayed by the proud red [Admin] by their nametags and the fact that they’re floating several inches off the fucking floor. He backs away, strangely winded - probably from the panic or adrenaline or yelling or, more accurately, all three, as Quackity is pulled back effortlessly by an admin, easily caging his flailing limbs with a snap of code as he is frozen into place - and Michael whoops. 

“LET’S GO!” 

(The arrow hits Michael in the shoulder, and he disappears in a flash of red - only instead of going to his usual place above the Dodgebolt arena, standing with the other competitors, he finds himself teleported in front of a dizzying array of screens and buttons, too many to have any idea where they connect and how they work. Michael turns to meet the faces of the MCC Admins, each one looking at him with odd, concerned expressions and furrowed brows. 

“You shot your teammate,” one says - Noxite - and Michael nods to concede the point, not quite finding the words to speak. “Why?”

“If you had such a big issue with the teams, you could’ve just talked to Scott,” another one pipes up from the back, “I’m sure we could’ve worked something out.”

“I know, I know,” Michael runs his hand through his hair, both relieved at the plan working better than he could’ve ever fucking imagined and suddenly lost for words in front of the admins, each one looking at him with their full attention. Every nerve in his body rails against the scrutiny, reminds him to pretend that nothing is wrong - but it’s too late to pretend, now. It’s been too late for a long, long time. 

He remembers Dream, looking away all competition, voice dead and lacking all of its former vitality - remembers Puffy, hair a little greyer from stress, grief painting her face whenever she thought anyone wasn’t looking - remembers Bad, hands still shaking despite his attempts to hide it - the prison, looming on the horizon, unbeatable, impenetrable - himself, helpless, for all this time, to do anything but watch and wait. Until now. He takes a deep breath, steels himself- 

“Something’s wrong with Dream.”)

“Thank you for your information, Michael,” Noxite smiles at him, and relief throws itself through his system so fast that it makes him dizzy- “We’ll handle this from here. Good job.” 

“Holy shit- when did you get time to contact the fucking admins, Michael?” 

Michael ignores the clamor around him as the lobby bursts into activity and people talking over each other, each one probably trying to figure out what the hell just happened, ignores Sapnap muttering, awed, from beside him, to move towards Dream, still sprawled out over the floor. There’s an admin by him, standing by to seemingly keep the crowd away but not engaging with Dream directly, and Michael ducks by them to kneel down by Dream and meet his gaze. 

“Hey,” Michael smiles, still shaking from the leftover adrenaline as he presses his hands to the ground to try and hide it, “We’ve got you. It’s over- Quackity’s gone. You’re safe now.” 

“Michael?” Dream’s voice is so damn small when his head twists to look over, hair having fallen largely fallen out of his ponytail to land in wisps all around his face. “You- how-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael shushes him, chest twisting painfully. “It’s alright.”

“...I don’t feel so good.”

Dream coughs harshly, and Michael quickly maneuvers him to a sitting position as his shoulders shake with another one, hand flying to his mouth as he is wracked with loud, wet-sounding coughs. Concern wells up in his throat, watching as Dream shakes with more coughing, nearly choking as he curls into himself, muscles tense. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls his hand back, and Michael gasps at the sight.

“Dream-”

There’s blood, and a lot of it - mixed with the saliva in his palm, shiny and stringy over the planes of his hand, dribbling past his lips and down his chin. His teeth are similarly stained red when his mouth opens slightly, stance wobbling before he collapses altogether against Michael’s body - Michael can barely hear himself shouting for a medic as Dream heaves a rattling, wet sounding breath into his shoulder. 

“Th’ts not g’d,” he mumbles, quiet, before going completely limp. 

---

When you first get strong enough to go to the Nether and collect blaze rods and brew potions for the first time, the first thing that gets beaten into your head forwards, backwards, left, right, and every way in between is that health and regen aren’t a replacement for actual recovery. Instant health pots are famous for their tendency to heal everything affected to the same degree - which is bad when you have a particularly deep injury, as it’ll often finish healing it near the surface while the injury persists underneath. Regen pots tend to be better at that front, but even they cannot completely fix a serious injury - the two can only act as a temporary, emergency fix for severe wounds, often being an invaluable resource to stop the worst of the bleeding and hold everything together for long enough to bring someone to proper medical attention. 

Unfortunately, when someone tries to use health pots and regens to completely bypass the time and rest needed for the body to properly heal itself and recover, what usually ends up happening is internal injuries - not completely healed by the potions alone - continue to be jostled and irritated, which can lead to further, worse, problems with internal bleeding and bones shifting out of place if they’ve been broken, which can then pierce through muscle and organ tissue - to be honest, Michael was never the best with all the medical stuff, and he’s half-sure that the horror stories he’s heard were exaggerated to beat it into his head never to be an idiot that thinks that potions can solve everything, but either way, he’s never tested his luck with the things.

Unfortunately, Dream doesn’t seem to have done the same, as the entire day’s worth of intense activity, between practices and MCC itself, were more than enough to fuck over the healing effects of whatever health potions he apparently downed before coming to the Championships. From what Michael has heard, it got a little harried after he was first brought into the hospital, but he’s apparently stabilized since - recovery will be slow, both physically and mentally, but at least he’s out of that damn prison to actually start on that path.

“Simply put, your teammate is a bit of an idiot,” Scott tells him when he finally catches him in the waiting room, hair fluffed up at the sides from where he’s evidently messed it up in Admin-related stress. “But he should be alright now, with proper medical attention and lots of rest - make sure to tell him to actually rest, will ya? No more parkouring for him - he can wait until after he’s out of the hospital to show us all how it’s done.” 

Michael laughs, relief settling into his chest, “Thanks, Scott.” He directs a playfully accusing look towards the other, a grin tugging at his lips, “but you know, he’s only my teammate because you made it that way. Kinda sounds like your own fault there..” 

“Oh, quiet, you.” Scott laughs- he looks stressed, and Michael feels a twinge of sympathy. The administrative side of things after his whole stunt at Dodgebolt, and then especially with what happened in the main lobby, must be an absolute nightmare. “Anyway, I need to go back - Admin meeting,” he shakes his head, already looking at his comm. “You should go see Dream, by the way. I think he’s awake.” 

“Thanks for everything, Scott.” 

Scott smiles at him, soft, sincere. “Go see your friend.” 

He disappears in a flash of white light, teleporting away, and Michael looks at the empty space where he stood for a few seconds before standing up out of his chair to move towards the door. He hesitates at it for a second, hand on the doorknob but not yet turning it to the side - it’s suddenly awkward, without the pressure of the competition at his back and the relentless questions of what he should do. He doesn’t even know if Dream knows what happened, or if he’ll be happy with him - for all he knows, Dream was the one who started the whole ‘don’t tell the Championships what happens in the server’ deal. His teeth catch on his lip as he stands, lost in thought, at the door.

Well. Here goes nothing. 

He eases the door open, getting a glimpse inside the room - it’s white, clean-looking, the smell of disinfectant heavy in the air. There’s a bed in the middle of the room, a chair on the side with his Championships clothing and what appears to be some sort of padded body armor laid over the cushions. Dream, as expected, is lying down in the bed, unmoving; for a second, Michael thinks he’s sleeping, before he suddenly twists his head over to look at him.

“Michael?” 

“Hey,” Michael smiles, moving into the room and closing the door behind him. For the first time today, Dream’s face isn’t masked, a glimpse of it visible behind him on the dresser by the bed. He blinks up at him owlishly, eyes wide and green, looking even bigger combined with the hollow planes of his cheeks, overlaid by pale, slightly raised scars. “How are you feeling, man?” 

“Um-” Dream tries to pull himself up, visibly struggling, and Michael rolls his eyes as he hurries over to help raise the back of the cot because you’re supposed to be resting, Dream, just let the fancy bed do its job, and settles back with an odd look on his face as Michael pulls over a chair. “Good? I think? I mean-” he flails his hands a bit, “this is weird. And I kind of hate this gown- but um. Yeah.” 

“That’s fair,” Michael laughs, and Dream huffs a small laugh out of his own, settling back into his pillow. He looks strangely small, with all the layers stripped away, frail and skinny against the sheets. His skin isn’t that same paper-white shade it had been when he collapsed in the middle of the fucking lobby, but it’s still pale enough to be vaguely worrying, especially combined with the IV and other wires hooked up to him. 

“Apparently, I’m dehydrated,” Dream drawls when he catches Michael staring at the IV, making a small, frustrated sound through his teeth as Michael turns to look at him, “figures, I guess, but still sucks. I hate needles.” 

“Ouch,” Michael winces in sympathy, “yeah, those don’t look that fun.” Dream smiles up at him, before his expression shutters, dulls, and he looks away, not meeting his eyes. The sight of it makes Michael frown, quiet, remembering the way he’d drawn back from them all over and over again throughout the day - that fear and trauma won’t go away in a day, but it hurts all that much more to see his face as panic flashes across it and he pulls back, gaze carefully detached. 

“Dream?” Michael moves closer, but is careful not to make contact, “you alright?”

“Hmm?” Dream directs another small, tight smile his way, strained at the corners as his eyes flick away to the floor once again, “yeah- I’m- I’m fine.” 

Michael sighs, but decides not to push it. “Have you done anything else here, yet?”

Dream shakes his head. “No- I think that someone’s going to bring food over soon, I’m not sure. Not really hungry,” he mutters, half to himself, and Michael tamps down the concern that wells up in protest, “But we’ll see, I guess.” 

“That’s good,” Michael nods, and Dream looks up at him, expression startlingly unsure. 

“Um- do you know?” He wrings his hands together, eyes darting across the room nervously before flicking over Michaels’ face, and Michael tries to make himself look as calm and comfortable as possible, “I mean- do you know what’s going on with- everyone?” 

Ah. Michael winces internally- he probably should’ve expected this question, but in the fallout of what happened in the lobby and Dream, you know, passing out in his arms, he ended up brushing off or ignoring a lot of the chaos that resulted. He wracks his head for snippets of information that he’d seen in his communicator and from visitors to the waiting room, including people that had been there with him that had been pulled for questioning and meetings, Tommy’s expletive-filled yelling from the lobby still ringing in his head. 

“Um- I think that they’ve got a team of moderators pulled up to investigate the server, figure out what’s been going on,” Michael ticks names off on his hands, mentally going through the list of people that he’s been given information on, “They have Quackity in custody, I think, for the moment- they’re still waiting for more information on what to do with him, but they’ve got a whole MCC lobby’s worth of witnesses that saw him assault you so far, if you plan on pressing charges and stuff- um- Sapnap got pulled for questioning, nothing too major right now, I think that they’re going through the other server members that were attending the Championships for the moment.” 

“Are they- putting them in jail?” Dream’s voice sounds slightly tinny despite his forced calm, arms crossed in front of him, and Michael shakes his head firmly. 

“No- legal stuff between servers is weird, and I think they’re holding off on anything like that for now. Quackity’s just there at the moment because of assault charges on the MCC server - stuff in the SMP is still technically outside of their jurisdiction.” Dream visibly relaxes, and Michael smiles thinly, “It’ll be rough for a few weeks as they collect evidence and figure out what to do, but for now, they’re just focusing on recovery - giving people medical attention if they need it, lining up therapists,” he laughs, quietly, “lots of therapists.”

Dream hums, looking away. The corners of his mouth fall, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes a shuddery sigh through his lips.

“I- never wanted it to get this bad,” he opens his eyes, looking down at his hands, lip slightly trembling, “I don’t- I don’t know where it all went wrong.” 

“Hey,” Michael slides closer, ducking to meet Dream’s eyes with a soft smile. “You’re not alone anymore, alright? You don’t have to fix it all by yourself. Focus on yourself, on recovering.” 

Dream hesitates, breath seeming caught in his throat, wide green eyes staring into Michael’s own, before ducking his head to look away with a slight nod. Michael leans back in his chair, watching as Dream turns to the side, curling in on himself slightly with a small wince, eyes fixed on the window.

“Didn’t think I was going to see the sun again,” Dream says after a while, gaze still trained behind the glass to where the sun is slowly setting, rays of sunlight streaming past the slits in the blinds and casting glowing stripes of honey-gold throughout the room and over Dream’s face. Michael feels something cold press against the back of his throat, the quiet admission making air stutter in his lungs at the image of Dream, alone, huddled in the middle of an obsidian box for months and months and months, never knowing if he’d see anything other than the same black walls for the rest of his life. 

“You’re not there, anymore. You’re safe now.” 

Dream doesn’t reply, continuing to look out the window silently, breathing slowly as he moves his hand through a sunbeam, watching the way it streams between his fingers and warms his skin, seeming mesmerized by its soft glow. 

“Michael?” Dream looks over, and Michael feels the air punched out of his lungs at the soft, disbelieving sincerity held within his expression, the fearful edges for once pulled back far enough for the light to catch the quiet, heartfelt appreciation gathered in the slight quirk of his lips and downward slope of his eyes. He looks away a second after, a band of light cutting across his face and landing over the bridge of his nose, smile still on his face, voice almost too quiet to make out. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Michael feels his own smile widen, looking out the window himself- it really is a beautiful sunset. “What are friends for?” 

[pietrosskinnyjeans]

The one where you comfort him

It had been just under 2 months since the battle of Sokovia, when I had used my healing abilities to bring Pietro Maximoff back to life.  Before this, I had only healed mild wounds, cuts and sprains, so after the shock of realising I was able to resurrect, my god complex was at an all time high. Pietro and his sister weren’t all too fond of me to begin with, given the destruction my father’s weapons had brought upon their lives. However, they certainly warmed up to me after I saved Pietro. I’m not all that mad about it though, I mean, who doesn’t love a good ol’ enemies to lovers trope? I know this isn’t wholly appropriate to think, considering that he is my teammate and dating him would cause a plethora of issues. But, he’s a 6 foot tall, blue eyed boy with an 8 pack and a slavic accent, how could I not think about such things?

 Adjusting to American life as avengers hadn’t been easy for the twins, but I’d like to think that I was helpful as possible, introducing them to American traditions and assisting them in improving their English. Although, regardless of any of my actions, or any of the teams’, it was apparent Pietro wasn’t adjusting all that well. Wanda had mentioned to me he had quite a reputation in Sokovia, and was anything but introverted, yet here it appeared that he had completely retreated into his shell. I mean, can’t really blame him though, if I was resurrected I think I would have gone through a full scale mental breakdown, wondering whether my life had meaning, and whether I was meant to be revived in the first place. Oh, and he was also living with the person who invented the things which were responsible for his parents death, so that probably wasn't very fun. 

 Wanda had gone out to pick up the takeaway we were having for dinner with Natasha, Clint and Steve. Whilst it may have seemed a little excessive to bring 4 people to pick up takeaway to anyone else, you must be reminded how much food it takes to take to feed a team of ‘enhanced individuals’ as the government calls us. I mean, Pietro can eat 5 whole pizzas on his own without breaking a sweat. 

 Bruce and my dad were in the lab, so I went looking for my favourite wannabe Guy Fieri so I wasn’t standing around the compound by myself like a sad loner (I mean seriously, with that hair he could be a Vegas impersonator or something (perhaps a future career to pursue if this whole ‘avengers thing’ doesn’t work out??)). 

 I walked towards his bedroom and knocked lightly, not wanting to waltz into his room unannounced. He opened the door, the somber impression that was present on his face fading rather quickly, and was replaced by a false sense of content. 

 ‘Hey princeza, you want to come into my room?’ he said playfully, a small smirk forming on his lips. 

 ‘Sure I don’t mind, just wanted someone to talk to. Everyone is either in the lab or going to get food.’ I stated rather bluntly, butterflies appearing once I noticed how close he was to me. 

 He opened the door wider and gestured for me to enter his room. I entered and immediately noticed The Dick Van Dyke Show playing on his TV. ‘odd choice’ I thought to myself. 

 ‘Didn’t take you as someone who liked watching old American sitcoms, Pietro’ I said, chuckling slightly

 At my remark, his face dropped slightly, as he stared reminiscently at the TV. 

 I looked at him, and realised tears were beginning to well in his eyes. 

 ‘Are you ok?’ I asked, to which he cleared his throat and responded 

with ‘fine’  rather harshly. 

 Instinctively, I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, to which he failed to shake off, and began to speak, starting to sense what the matter was. 

 ‘ Hey, I know you’ve had to be strong for the longest time. You’ve had to be there to protect your sister, comfort her, and suppress your own feelings in the process.  But listen to me when I say this, Piet, you don’t have to be so strong anymore. You no longer have to suppress all these emotions you feel. You have Clint, Nat, the whole team. I momentarily averted my gaze, before staring into his sapphire eyes once more. You have me. 

 Tears welled in his eyes, and I was quickly pulled into his chest. My heart ached for him as he clung to me tightly whilst sobbing. I began to lightly rub his back with one hand, and stroked his hair gently with the other, softly muttering ‘its ok, you're safe with me’. 

 I know, I know, it all seems very cringe worthy. But honestly, I was just proud that I wasn’t laughing. You see, I'm not all that good at comforting others. 

 After a moment, he sniffled and gently pulled away, eyes puffy. 

I smiled gently at him, and stroked his cheek, in an attempt to provide some comfort. 

‘I'll be there to listen if you want to talk. No matter what time it is, where we are, come and find me. To remind you that after everything that has happened, you’re finally safe. And, whilst the events of the past cannot be erased, to remind you that you’re going to be ok. Because you don’t have to suffer alone anymore.’ 

‘Princeza, that sounds like something in one of those stupid American movies’ He said, laughing heartily whilst wiping his tears. 

‘I was trying to be comforting!!’ I exclaimed, my smile mirroring his

‘Yes, well, maybe don't do that again, because it was really, really bad’ He chuckled once more before seeing a slight pout evident on my lips, following up his previous remark with a ‘ok, ok  I am joking.. It was pretty cute.’ 

“Aha! I knew it!!’ I shouted, whilst playfully slapping his arm

We were silent for a moment, before he moved himself closer to me and shifted his gaze from my eyes to my lips ( which honestly made me feel like I was about to have a goddamn heart attack ). He continued to close the distance between us, and placed a passionate yet gentle kiss on my lips. 

He pulled away, and noticed my visibly shocked impression (honestly, at this moment I was just thinking how dead I was gonna be when my dad found out. But also like !!! he kissed me!! )

‘What? You didn’t see that coming?’ He said playfully

 ‘You know, you really need to get a new catchphrase. Because that one, is absolutely horrible.’ I said, before I leaned in for another kiss.

 Note: So i’ve never rlly written anything before so this is probably not the best. But, I was bored and didn’t want to study so here we are. Lmk if there are any ways I can improve !!

[tomiyeee]

Shirako for the character bingo?

ehehehhehhe little music man little little ..basard >:3

i dont think there's anyone on teku whose design i dont actively adore and honestly i think shirako's is probably the best. his colors and shapes are just VERY iconic and satisfying overall 😭 nolo is my favorite bc im biased, but from an objective standpoint, shirako's is just so unique and sexy. the sleek black n white on the top with little orange accents sprinkled in..the green on the bottom that's mismatched from the rest of his colors enough to make the bottom half interesting, but dark/muted and simple enough to not feel out of place in the palette or draw attention away from the rest of his design...the long black shirt and puffy vest making him look like a sexy little marshmallow.....just SUCH a good design that expresses his personality and encompasses the teku vibe & aesthetic so well 🥺 they did him right

now that being said,

(this also covers the "why were they even in the work" and "screen time" bits) "wasted potential" is a bit harsh and i dont even think they really missed any opportunities with him, at least not in any way that matters. he is meant to be more of a side character and that's fine, he is very entertaining as such. i do think it would have been nice for his + the fans' sake if they had given him something of substance though. his personality is basically "cool music man" with no real motivations, background, depth, or even thoughts at some points. from a writing standpoint he is not a very well developed character. but like i said it works for his role! it is absolutely hilarious to me to think that he is just there, with no further explanation needed. his existence is just funny to me and a character being poorly written isn't necessarily a bad thing if it doesn't hurt the story. it still adds something to it simply by being fun to watch :)

his complete lack of depth exempts him from any wrong-doing

also adding this on bc i just rembered it and im not sure if it's enough to actually tick the "deeper than they seem" box, but he seems like..weirdly fond of monkey in some bits? like he's besties with vert a little bit and is (at best) neutral towards every other character, but goes out of his way to be nice to monkey TWICE, addressing him by name both times ("yo monkey! brought you somethin" post-junk realm and "nice timing, monkey" in ult race) when he hasn't even said the name of a single one of his teammates once. i don't know what this means but i have to mention it every time i talk about his character. why monkey. what did they mean by this

[businessbois]

business! did u see the mcc teams? no prime boys (ive gone dark) but beeduo and dreamnap! also queer team aka scott, one of his husbands (wisp), antfrost, and 5up! tommy is teamed with dad, funds, and conar

- mr scandalous

okay so i was so ready to answer this yesterday but people showed up at my house right as i was about to so i’m getting to it now! i’m just gonna use this to get a lot of my mcc thoughts out

one day we’ll get those primeboys. one day. but like omg this red rabbits team is so cool? like dreamnap is an op duo but also with quackity and michael they’re gonna be so fun!!

bee duo is obviously so freaking exciting! the only reason i’m hesitant to root for the pink parrots is that god himself seems to be working against wilbur soot especially during mccs. i’d be so pleased if this team won though

i think i heard a while ago that 5up was on the mcc waitlist but completely forgot about it until now, but super super cool that he’s in the event now along with ant. wisp i of course adore with every bone in my body and there’ll be a lot of flirty banter on this team with him and scott. i wouldn’t put them super high on rankings just because of the new completely new players, but they’ll for sure be a good time.

i’m so fucking excited for the green guardians. like unimaginably excited. tommy and connor is such a nice duo to watch work together. i remember the mcu they did together and they were so good as a duo even if they didn’t place high in the event. i actually think these guys have such a good shot at winning, fundy, phil, and tommy are all super super good players, like top ten, high a tiers all of them. connor has only been in one mcc, because of pete having to drop and the fact that he was teamed with james charles, im not gonna really say that his performance there is indicative of how he’ll perform in this mcc though. and anyways, quackity was completely new to the event in mcc11 when he was with tommy, fundy, and wilbur and they were nearly in dodgebolt. so super high potential for this team, they’re not only solid but very good in every aspect of this tournament except i’d say possibly buildmart where morale might go down, but even that would hardly damage them overall. not to have an obvious favorite team, but i could talk about these guys forever.

orange ocelots is a super strong team i can already see getting overlooked. any team with pete on it is a strong team, and he and grian’s mcc13 team got 2nd and their mcc14 team got 3rd, i can for sure see these guys in the top three.

yellow yaks is another super strong team. i’m very excited to see the dynamic, punz, the captain, jack manifold, and cpk is not a combination that would ever come to me, but i’m interested to see it. punz is a really good player especially in pvp and that’s where callum’s strength is as well i’d say. maybe that and the sheer power of jack manifold will get the captain his first win?

i don’t wanna underestimate the lime llamas either. obviously mr. gaming is on fire as of late, copping a win in the last canon mcc. oli’s been improving in these last few mccs, his individual coins have gone way up from where they were back when he stopped at mcc6. fruitberries is obviously fruitberries. kara’s a solid teammate and very experienced. they just don’t jump out to me as a top three just because all the other teams are also insanely strong, but they’ll definitely perform well.

i just look at aqua and think “good team.” i wake up to krtzyy notifs that are always “doing some mcc practice,” he and krinios are a tier players. they’re friends with puffy and i think everyone on this team will work super well together. very excited about the puffychu duo on this team and im super happy that niki is feeling good about competing again, especially after she did so well in mcc14.

okay so the only things i know about prestonplayz is that my ten year old cousin watches him and he missed the other mcc he was supposed to be in because of a wedding. he did win an mcm week though i do vaguely remember that. anyways, he seems like a lovely guy, happy he’s finally able to play. fwhip and joel are both like around the top 20 range, i’d put them 25 at the lowest. quig is as always an amazing individual player.

purple pandas kinda insane? illumina’s just coming off his pride win and is always an amazing player. ren and false are both very solid and a good duo. the chemistry and communication on this team will be really great, i believe 3/4 of this team all know each other and i can’t imagine illumina having trouble getting along with them. he’s a great leader and i think they’re gonna be really good

[al3x1ss]

Cheerleader Captain {HCs}

Includes: Terushima, Oikawa

THIS IS WRITTEN WITH A GENDER NEUTRAL READER!

Authors Note: This is a sort of collab with @lexysclubhouse based on our conversations LMAO, but seriously go check hers out!

If a part 2 is wanted, leave an ask!

Warnings: Cursing

Terushima

aLRIGHT KIDS LETS GET TO IT

also hello go check out Lexy’s part of this (collab? Idfk)

SO

you two probably met while he was in practice, but since you’re the cheer captain, you needed to get the last jacket for one of your competitions coming up

so they’re on a water break and they just see a random person come in like

👀

are you lost baby gorl 😏

ANYWHO

Terushima comes up to you smirk and all

“Hey gorgeous, you lookin for me?”

You just look up at this man

Bored as hell

And you’re just SILENT

sO HES JUST LOSING CONFIDENCE LMAO

“No.”

YOU JUST SHOVE PAST HIM

HOMEBOY LOOKS LIKE A LOST PUPPY

so you go to your coach, and immediately a smile comes of your face

and he’s like oh my god

Angel 🥺

so you talk with your coach, get the jacket and say goodbye to her

jacket w a v i n g in the wind behind you like there’s literally a fan on but there’s not?

you’re just so cool to him

so he has already fallen like

IMMEDIATELY

was trying to find you but he can’t

He’s over here thinking you’re a 3rd year from how mature you were

(You’re a second year hehehehe)

so the next time he sees you, YOURE at practice!

His team wasn’t told that their gym was gonna be used for a little before practice

So his team got their early and saw your team doing a routine to “Livin’ La Vida Loca”

ONCE AGAIN HE HAS FALLEN IN LOVE AND CANT GET OUT

DUDE

YOU WITH YOUR POM POMS?

YOUR HIPS

MF ALMOST GOT A NOSEBLEED SHIT

LIKE IT WASN EVEN EROTIC

YOJ WERE JUST SO STUNNING AND COOL LIKE SHIT

HE FELT LIKE A LITERAL NERD

the words “I don’t deserve their oxygen” full on came out from his mouth

ONE OF HIS TEAMMATES JUST STARTED WHEEZING LIKE

OH MY GOD

THEIR CAPTAIN?

W I M P

Like you’re practicing in sweats but shit I mean I’d simp 😳

About 2 weeks later he hears about you guys winning your competition

At this point you kind of know him? Like after that small interaction the cheer team and volleyball team were introduced to eachother

Especially since you were going to be cheering at prelims in 2 months

So the next day he pulls you aside and confesses

Stuttering and ALL

HE GOT YOU FLOWERS

LIKE HE GOT ROSES CUZ HES A BASIC BITCH

BUT LEAVE HIM ALONE HES TRYING 🥺

Shit I’d KILL to get flowers from someone

especially him

okay lex not the time

HE TAKES YOU ON A DATE TO THIS REALLY CUTE DINER

YOU KISS HIS CHEEK AT THE END OF THE NIGHT EIRHHTHTYN

YOU LUCKY MF I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

literally the first conversation was about his tongue piercing

And he got REALLY self conscious

BUT

YOU HAD ONE TOO?

WHICH WAS SUPER COOL

LIKE OMG TWINSIES

like of course you took it out for comps and stuff but for just hanging out you had it in

You look so hot with it to him

so two weeks pass and it’s pre-lims!

At this point you’re one of Johzenji’s favorite couples

Like why didn’t y’all get together sooner you cute as FUCK

So you guys are doing a small routine while Terushima goes up to serve

ITS THE SAME LIVIN LA VIDA LOCA ROUTINE LMAO

MANS IS JUST HOLDING THE BALL STARING AT YOU

NOT KNOWING THAT THE WHISTLE BLEW ALREADY

AND THEN HE SNAPS OUT IF IT REALIZING HIS 8 SECONDS WERE UP

HE LITERALLY G A V E A POINT TO THE OTHER TEAM BECAUSE YOU WERE SO PRETTY

Now between switching sides after losing the 1st set, you walk up to him

He’s just staring at you smirking

“So, you wanna talk about that serve?”

“OH IM SOOOOORY, my pretty baby was just so beautiful, I couldn’t look away.”

THIS MAN DOESNT WALK AWAY

HE MF S K I P S

YOURE RED AS HELL

PRETTY BABY?

BEAUTIFUL?

UGH

Oikawa

heheh HES WEARINT MY NUMBER I ALWAYS SCREAM AT THIS

OKAY SO I HAD A DRESM AB THIS

AND I LOVED IT

SO ITS HAPPENING

ENJOY

OKAY

SO

here’s what I’m thinking

Terushima HAS a cheerleading partner?

Oikawa HAD a cheerleading partner

Your schedules just never lined up and it was a mutual break up!!

You guys broke up about 3 months ago so the awkwardness is basically gone?

Like y’all are friends ya know

And yeah both of you do both still think about it randomly

mostly oikawa 👀

So they’re at practice and you come in SPRINTING

LIKE BOYS ARE ABOUT TO BLOW THE WHISTLE TO START A GAME AND THEY JUST SEE YOU ZOOM

SO EVERYONES JUST KINDA WATCHING LMAO

you don’t come out of the office for a while so they end up starting the game

you wanna know who’d up to serve

Oikawa :)

boy serves RIGHT when you come out

Like the universe was like “oh? let’s scare the mother loving SHIT out of ‘em!”

literally hits the wall next to you

“OIKAWA TOORU GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!”

MAN FREEZES

like shit

He was already gonna get scolded by iwa

but you?

he comes up to you with his arms behind his back, his eyes obviously terrified

“Do you know what you just did?”

“Yes.” 🥺

“And do you realize what you’re gonna do?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Homeboy has never eeen this side of you so he’s terrified.

And when you go to walk away he realizes you’re wearing a captains jacket

“Wait, Y/N, you got promoted?”

“Oh, yeah, I tried for it like a month ago.”

“Congratulations.”

he kinda just stares at you walk out like

Me?

oIKawA tOoRU

missing my ex?

n e v e r

okay maybe sometimes

so the next time he sees you they’re at the prelims against date tech

And he seems you come in in your uniform

wOOSH 🥰

So you guys lock eyes and y’all wave at eachother

you can see his face is r e d so you’re smiling

the game starts, you guys doing simple cheers, but as they get to the transition to the second set, you guys start doing a cheer to “Idol” by BTS that you choreographed

And seeing you as a captain?

H I T THIS MAN

HIT IT TIL IT BREAKS TYPE BEAT

he literally paused to stare at you, iwa was like

“GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AND DROOL AFTER THE GAME”

stan iwa honestly y’all would make fun of him together whenever you guys had time to hang out

So, end of prelims, they lost to Karasuno

And you’ve been to his house maybe a few times when you guys were dating?

so you remember where it is

his mom?

kinda shocked to see you?

especially in a cheerleading uniform since she never realized you did that?

but you were talking about how you just wanted to see him

so you go upstairs and into his room and he’s just in the corner with his alien plushy sobbing

Your heart is breaking at this point for this man

You go and sit beside him, him not really acknowledging you

“Tooru, I’m really really proud of you and what you’ve become. That will not be the last time you’re on a court, and I will make sure it that as long as I live.”.

he turns to you and turns his alien pushy, instead clinging onto you

You can feel your uniform getting soaked, but you run your fingers through his hair anyway, giving him forehead kisses

after a while of crying, he lifts his head to look at you, eyes still very puffy

You look at him back and you give him a small smile

And he puts his hand on your chin

Gotta get that kiss kiss after missing you for so long

SOFT MAKEOUTS WITH OIKAWA OKAY

so here you guys are at about 2am

Talking about how you missed eachother

“Y/N, I really want to get back together with you.”

😳

“Who would I be to say no to an offer like that?”

You guys go to school the next day

Give the rest of Seijoh 4 sQUEEZES

cuz they deserve it I love them dearly

on Saturday you guys actually went on a date!!

you wanna know what song came on the radio

MF IDOL

HE TURNS TO YOU GRINNING AND GOES

“Ya know you looked really cute doing this cheer, might want to see it again~”“OIKAWA TOORU I WILL NOT HESITATE TO CRASH THIS CAR”

End note: “Just a Friend to You” begins in two days and I’m v excited! (Once again thank you for 100 notes!) (self promotion ✨) But in all seriousness, please go check out Lexy’s stuff! She’s a great writer and is so sweet ❤️

~ Lex 🖤🤍

[astralibrary]

yooo @junk-thrillz​ i was your @pnatsecretsanta​!!! among your mentioned likes were the school store four + collin, ocean aesthetic and magical girl au’s, so i made the five of them into an ocean themed magical girl squad!

there’s a cover for their theoretical manga (+ a textured “realistic” version for fun), and then a few “screencaps” of the anime adaptation from the infamous Hijack Arc, in which the monster of the week captures jeff and turns him against his teammates, who then go on to save him through the power of their unbreakable friendship, in true cheesy anime fashion ❤

this was a lot of fun to put together, i hope you like it!!!

(also, not every concept i brainstormed made it into these final pieces, so here are some extra thoughts and such under the cut :3)

even though i feel like cody is more typically associated with blue, i made him pink because he’s the leader of the team and everyone knows the leader is always pink!!!

i gave each individual member their own ocean-related theme, so cody’s is a pirate captain, because it’s a leadery type of role. his weapon is a cutlass as a nod to canon but it’s pink and magical and fun instead of murdery bc this is a G-Rated Funtimes AU,

collin is blue simply because that pink + blue duo am i right ;)

he has a sailor theme, so he’s got a cute lil hat and sailor uniform flourishes on his outfit (the collar, the double stripes, etc)

his weapon is a harpoon bc idk that’s sailory right. even a lil bit

jeff gets orange/yellow because he’s the funny lovable one!

i wanted to give one of them a sea creature theme, so jeff’s theme is jellyfish, which is reflected in his headband and the like, puffy side part of his dress there? it’s a little abstract but hopefully u get the picture kgjdkfjd

his weapon is lil bombs (but Magical), mostly because i thought it’d be a fun reference to the hitball arc... u know, round ball-shaped objects being thrown.... etc

violet is purple because.... i could not resist i am sorry it’s so GOOD

i struggled with her theme, i admit... but it ended up being kind of piratey, but more crewmate than captain? she has that little tied sash around her waist, and the skull bow hairclip is meant to reference a skull and crossbones, which tbh i feel like fits w her general aesthetic anyway so like? it works imo

her weapon (not pictured unfortunately) is a blunderbuss (funny pirate gun)

and finally, lisa is green, because... well she was the last one i assigned a color ghdkfjdkgj i think under normal circumstances she absolutely would’ve been purple bc she’s just got that Vibe u know, but since i wanted to give it to violet so bad i went with green for lisa. i think it suits her tho? it’s kind of a seafoam green, to be a little more oceany hehe

her theme is like, the beach, seashells, etc. the swirl in her hair reminds me of a conch shell so i just kinda. stuck one right in there. and then a few other things like bits of coral and sand dollars and pearls as added decoration

she also has some netting and a few shells around her waist to sprinkle more of her theme throughout her design

her weapon (pictured in the first fake screencap) is a Sick Trident that she looks rly cool holding iajs,

also, their normal everyday clothes have little nods to their transformed outfits! not all of them made it into that third fake screencap but here are the concept sketches!

violet: a skull & crossbones hairclip to reference her skull bow hairclip

jeff: a pair of orange headphones to reference his headband (they should have that jellyfish pattern on them too but i didn’t draw that)

cody: a pink beanie with a little gold feather pin to reference his pirate hat

lisa: a bracelet with a sand dollar and some pearls to reference her hair decorations

collin: a navy blue bowtie with little white stripes to reference his sailor theme

finally, some extra bits i came up with while brainstorming the kind of universe this would all take place in:

the premise is sort of like pnat in that it takes place in mayview, but instead of spectrals and spirits there are magical girl squads who fight monsters (same as the ghosts & spirits basically) to protect the town. rather than mayview being simply overrun with spirits, it’s disproportionately attacked by them, ergo the need for magical girls

the ocean team isn’t the only squad around; another one is made up of the activity club (max/isabel/ed/isaac), who i was thinking would have a steampunk theme? and then i was toying with the idea of the jang being another team, but i hadn’t really thought as far as to what their theme would be

just for fun, the ocean team has a magical pirate ship they can fly around on, and the steampunk team has a magical train they can ride around on, not unlike the ghost train (just like, more steampunky)

the reason there can be multiple teams without everyone stepping on each other’s toes is because there are different types of monsters to fight. i don’t know exactly what differentiates them, but each team’s specific brand of magic only affects certain types of monsters

the journalism club consists of suzy, who is investigating the identities of these mysterious magical girl squads (bc Of Course no one is able to recognize them once they’ve transformed), collin, who is frantically hiding the fact that he is in fact a member of one of these squads, and dimitri, a former member of the steampunk team who left for unknown reasons and now does everything he can to throw suzy off their trail. neither collin nor dimitri know of the other’s true identity (for sure, that is. dimitri has A Hunch)

so yeah! i haven’t had too much time to elaborate on the idea, but that’s what i managed to come up with! again this was a blast, au’s are so fun ;w;

ANYWAY that was a lot of rambling lol but!!!! i hope this is as fun for u as it was for me! happy holidays!!!! 💖💙💛💜💚

[razorblade180]

Interdimensional Moms: intro

[The complete Interdimensional dads here!]

Team RWBY finds themselves sitting at a table. All of them are middle age but vary in appearances that aren’t strange to an average stranger by any means, but different from what they are used to seeing from one another. For starters was Weiss. Her three friends had never known her to have shoulder length hair, or a horizontal scar underneath the one they’ve always noticed. Something about her eyes seemed...different. Brighter. As if they were infinitely dancing. Weiss’s eyes, they hid no emotions. The only thing more surprising was the fact she was wearing faded jeans and a white shirt with her symbol in black on it. Nobody said anything, but Weiss in jeans was somehow equally as gorgeous. Yang was slightly salty about it.

Blake’s eyes weren’t like Weiss’s, but they weren’t the usual stern but hopeful ones they all loved dearly. Blake looked relaxed. Like, wake up Saturday morning to watch tv and get cereal, kind of relaxed. The top of her long hair pulled into a bun while the back flowed freely. Despite her eyes, her clothes was ready for action. In fact, it looked like her dad’s clothes, with the way the royal purple coat flowed to white, puffy ends. And obviously, a shirt. Weiss could notice the subtle grays in the raven black hair and the women’s hands and face were healthy, but noticeably slimmer. A clear sign that she either had gotten sick, or her job had gotten to her once or twice. Maybe that’s why she looked relaxed? A similar chain of events happened with Winter.

Yang didn’t look too different. Except for Blake, who was awe struck. Yang to her was different, but also very much how she used to look back when they all journeyed together. Slight lines were under the bruisers eyes that resembled Raven’s. Her favorite coat that went with her bike was a little worn and Yang had noticeably gotten even buffer. Her muscles and beauty radiating with such vitality. Yang always burned bright like an inferno, but this was different. She smiled awkwardly at her team as they looked at her. A sublet chuckle escaped her and confirmed Blake’s feeling. This Yang was different, and felt like the sun itself.

Yang looked towards Ruby and was left speechless. All of them were. Out of the four, it was Ruby that had changed the most. To Yang, it was like seeing Summer. There was just this overwhelming presence that cake from her sister. They all noticed the long hair that went down her right shoulder and stunning black and red corset. The skirt dropped right past her knees. Her legs dawned black pantyhose with roses along them and Weiss couldn’t look away from the ruby red heels. The signature cloak was still with her of course. Silver eyes shined bright and a raised brow arched as she too was confused by the familiar, yet different faces. Still, Yang and the others were still soaking in her appearance. No scars, ruffled her, tired eyes, or even an overly goofy expression. Ruby Rose, looked like a fairytale come to life. Not only that. Between her youthful yet clearly mature appearance, the others felt something greater. The dream they were told by heart countless times by their leader. The romanticized vision of being a huntress, a hero, this Ruby had grabbed that dream truly with both hands. They just knew it.

Ruby:Ummm hello?

WBY:Hey....

Ruby:So uh, umm, what? What is happening here? I’m not the only person thinking something is off, right?

Blake:You’re not. But the question is....

Yang:What the hell is “off” to begin with?

Weiss:I think that’s us? Also, where exactly are we?

The void.

Yang:Who said that!?

No one important me. Consider me a operator. I could say a god, but that’s way too much considering I’ll do anything.

Weiss:Sounds like a god to me. Okay, give us the long and short of it. We’ll figure it out.

RBY: (We will?)

What you’re wittinessing is a meeting of team RWBY, but flipped on its side. Different universes, different outcomes, similar people, different endgames. Including kids. Discuss and have fun. That’s all. Think of it as a reunion that was never meant to be. Catch up, learn.

Weiss:Well then, can’t say I’m not interested. It’s not the craziest thing in the world.

Blake:It isn’t!? Why is this happening?

.......

Yang:I think he left.

Ruby:Well that’s about as long and short as you can get I suppose. Still...what!? Different universes?

Weiss:Considering the way you’re dressed, I believe it.

Ruby:What does that mean!?

Yang:Yeah she’s right. Look at you, all womanly. Last time I checked, my sister beautiful, but not rivaling me in the hips department. Which brings me back to what I just heard. Kids?

Ruby:Yeah?

Yang:Weiss, Blake, you too?

BW:Yeah?

Yang:Definitely different universes. Last time I checked, the only mama bear on team RWBY is me.

Blake:Last time I checked, you were single and alone.

Yang:WHAT!? Why would I be single!?

RW:....You mean you don’t kids together?

BY:Why would we have kids together?

RWBY:......

Ruby:Wow, I didn’t even think a sentence like that could exist. Guess alternate worlds do exist.

Weiss:And apparently infinite if you two aren’t shacking up.

Yang:Since when does Weiss Schnee day “shacking up?” Since when do you wear pants!?

Weiss:They’re cheaper to maintain. Why wouldn’t- oh my goodness. How do you usually see me!? What am I doing?

RB:You run your company.

Yang:The best Atlas huntress to ever exist.

Weiss:...So I was never broke?

RBY:YOU WERE WHAT!?

Blake:Okay, let’s take a step back. Clearly the differences really do vary. That’s all well and good but before all of that I wanna know why us for specifically? That doesn’t seem at random, does it?

Yang:Four out of infinity? I mean I’d just close my eyes and pick.

Ruby:Now that, that’s on brand for you. Hehe, I guess some things never change?

Blake:Yeah but it has to be more than just personality, right.

Weiss:Hey, we’re all wearing wedding rings.

They looked at each other’s hands. Each girl had a jewel that matched their color over a beautiful golden band that had different, yet similar engravings on it. Too similar. There’s no way the same store just happen to do it in every universe. However, was it crazy to think the shopkeeper was given similar instructions on the rings if it was the same person who asked for jewelry? Like Ruby said, somethings never change, and an idea like ring designs as endearingly cheesy as this brought only one face to mind.

RWBY:....

Blake:On three. One....two....

RWBY:I married Jaune A-.......

Yang:Well, clearly we all have amazing taste in men. *smiles*

RB:That’s insane!

Yang:Why? That’s not too crazy.

RB:You liking men is

Weiss:Why? She’s bi.

Yang:Actually....yeah, I guess so. Given my history- how do you know that!?

Weiss:Because I know you, dunce! You’re an openly sexual person that never misses an opportunity to anybody’s head spin, before teasingly going over to Blake and kissing her. Just so people know you’re off the market.

Yang...

Yang:That’s pretty fucking great.

Ruby:And still on brand.

Blake:.....

Yang:Well then. I guess we have a lot to talk about. Sheesh, Jaune Arc. Gotta admit, it’s crazy knowing he’s gotten so much attention. How scandalous.

Weiss:You make it sound like cheating?

Blake:I do feel that a little.

Ruby:Yeah, not a fan. But...losing to you three is understandable. Bittersweet, but I get it.

Yang:You didn’t lose though! You, the one right here, is married to him!

Ruby:All I’m saying is if it was up to me, our love would transcend space and time.

WBY:(Dummy, in a way, it does.) Ruby, you’re really greedy, you know that right?

Ruby:Huh!? Hey, what’s that all about.

Her teammate all looked at each other. They didn’t have to say anything. A single glance was enough to know they were on a similar page. Oh yes. Ruby Rose was definitely greedy, and hilariously adorable whenever she got picked on. They all laughed as this familiar Rose grew red with embarrassment and pouted. The more things change, the more they stayed the same. A reunion that was never meant to be. Yeah, it was gonna be a blast.

[zeta-in-de-walls]

My thoughts on the MCC games

So my mind is still dwelling on MCC. Damn, I loved it. 

I thought I’d share my thoughts about each game! (Note: I always watch Tommy for MCC.)

Big Sales at Build Mart. It’s alright. I think it’s good as an early game - I enjoyed that it was first this MCC, allowing the teams to get used to each other and it didn’t matter too much in points. Whereas I kinda dislike it late game - it’s not one I want to be high pressure. In some respects its a lot more chill as you’re less directly competing against others and more working together to build something. It still feels tense and as a viewing experience its alright but painful to see streamers making mistakes which they inevitably do as its so high pressure. The changes of getting rid of the boats was so, so good. Losing Buildmart before was often because you failed a turn and lose so much progress which was way too devastating. much easier to navigate now too. (I didn’t like how in one build Tommy couldn’t see a block properly under glass, but usually the builds are very nice. 

Hole in the wall - this one I’ve always really enjoyed watching. It’s a fun game with a great level of difficulty. Tommy’s pretty good at this one too and I like that he has a real habit of messing around in it. This game is the one where Wilbur lost his voice in MC11 after too much shouting. In MCC13 it was singing christmas songs. Something about it just makes everyone want to mess around. I like how although its mostly a solo game, team communication is useful ust shouting out colours and shouting out warnings. I saw Vikkstar being warned about approaching walls before they killed him a couple times by his teammates for instance and I like that. (Contrast ace race where its so hard to give much meaningful advice.) That said, the game is extremely glitchy! Hbomb demonstrated it this round but people have always been sliding through walls plus players with higher ping get an advantage. I would understand if they wanted to shelf it. I think it’d be hard to fix - 40 players in one area with moving slime walls will be so hard to handle. I wonder if they could have 10 separate maps instead or something to make it more feasible to play as I’ll be sad if it has to go.

Skybattle - really really fun from Tommy’s perspective! You can tell he loves it so I love it too. Rounds kinda have a tendency to all end the same way with little bridges towards the centre, might be cool if there was some existing narrow walkways to the middle as well and maybe new maps though I do like the current map as well! Hah, but yeah I love it! It’d probably be too much played too late but its the absolute perfect mid round game and every MCC there’s always really cool exciting plays. Its really fast-paced which sets it apart.

Survival Games - it’s a classic. probably a little frustrating points wise as its a single round meaning an early death is so costly. survival points in this one are worth so much. I seriously enjoy it though it is not one you want too late in the tournament. Also a good opener as its not too intense from the start, even if it gets pretty intense as the map shrinks. The maps for these games are always awesome and well-designed. (I think puffy might have fallen in an inescapable hole though? She was getting attacked at the time so maybe it was escapable but yeah - careful playtesting is important to make sure no spots like those exist. Which is hopefully the case!)

Ace race - I greatly enjoy this game. Tommy’s generally surprisingly good at it which helps. It just seems like a really fun minigame to play. Obviously this MCC the map had some errors and was maybe too confusing. The map was long and every moment had something new to process, a chiller section or two where you can observe and take it in a bit more would have been nice. It is a little fiddly with a lot of different mechanics leading to glitches. Tridents are just annoying! But its one thats a good time. I only dislike how its so much a solo experience - you can try and give advice to your team but its so hard to give useful input unless you’re right by your teammate. I quite enjoy this one being fairly late game as its exciting but not so harsh as the elimination games.

Battle Box: very cool game assuming the map’s fun! (Some MCCs had ones I didn’t care for.) And they remember to never ever give any players TNT ever again. There’s a bunch of tactics to employ, custom items, flanking. It’s just a really nice strategic mini-game. I like how its lots of ranged combat and there’s enough rounds that you don’t feel too bad about a mistake. It’s good anywhere in the tournament. Glad it got added to the practice server as its a lot of fun to watch streamers just play. Though they don’t ever practise the wool rushing tactics on there. xD Shame Tommy’s not built for this game though.

TGTTOS: I love this game! Lots of fun to watch and its kinda solo but also you can help your team and work together with some effort. Hmmm... though some of the individual maps for this game can be very hit-or-miss. I think generally you want like at least 80% of players to complete the map. A few of them have been too long and hard. Lots of punching goes on in this game and I kinda don’t mind. The one with the wool targets was probably a little too confusing. I like most of the original maps for this game aside form the cliffside punching one though I understand the same maps every time would be bad. Rocket jumping seems kinda finicky so I’m not a fan. Tridents, elytras, ice, and bridging are all great fun though and I do enjoy the variety. Again its good anywhere in the tournament! 

Parkour Tag - Not a fan. I like it in concept I guess but aah the scoring is annoying. It gives you points for survival which is so dependent on the person hunting you and it feels like there’s strategy about choosing the hunter for each opponent but in reality there’s not. I kinda wish the same person could be the hunter every round just so one person has that role. The maps have never felt that fun as it generally feels like scrambling around. Also this game rarely shifts the scores much at all, the ways points are awarded is just too strange. Maybe a bigger map and longer rounds? I don’t know though. This game is terrible as an end game and I guess its okay earlier. Yeah, I really wish there was a good parkour type game but this one isn’t it for me. (this is still much better than Parkour warrior mind!)

Rocket Spleef - Alright. I feel like this is one that’s hard on new players as rocket jumping is odd - getting kills in this game is also not easy. Hopefully they practice the mechanics on the practice server. That said I do enjoy this one quite a bit, it’s fun to watch. The deal breaker is the map. Some maps are just way better than others. I think by the end of a round the maps should be pretty much destroyed and I think it’d be awesome if rounds ended with only one or two people left alive. As long as its got a good map though it’s plenty of fun! It’s exciting without being really intense or high pressure and three rounds is a good amount. Good anywhere in the tournament.

Bingo But Fast - I don’t know how I feel about this one. Please don’t do it the nether again, that was too much. xD I think this game is too intense for me - it’s really fast-paced as completions start happening right away and earlier ones are worth more points. Also it’s another that is stressful to watch the streamer play non-optimally. That said it is an interesting game and I think its cool to have a mode like survival minecraft - generally I like how many games highlight different fun activities in minecraft. It’s such a varied tournament! Again I like this one best mid-tournament, not too late or too early. Maybe I’d like it a bit more without the locking out. like after the first five completions, the remaining completions of it still get a few points - a fixed amount. This is an interesting game but it’s also a really hard game! 

Sands of Time - This one is pretty awesome. A lot of fun to watch even if its so so painful for a streamer to lose.  Nice dungeon crawler feel, with cool maps and exciting traps. The vaults matter a lot to points. I like how less confident players can do safer stuff and its a very team-oriented game in the best possible way. As you don’t know how the other teams are doing it gets pretty intense and works well as a last game. Some traps are a bit annoying and I think ones requiring a second player are cool in concept but a bit too demanding. Also please please never make it out of snow again. People kept missing the snow! That was painful. Tommy’s interesting to watch and has successfully solved some risky traps even if he sometimes makes poor decisions xD 

Damn this turned out long! Listen, I love this event. All the games are delightfully unique and challenging and fun to watch. These are just my personal opinions. This is such a well-made and impressive tournament with such a great variety of games testing different things. 

Feel free to argue with me about any of these. Sorry parkour tags fans. xD

[ais-for-alex]

The Scars of Our Past: Ch3

Alrighty guys here is chapter 3 of Figure Skater Au

By the time Leo stumbled into his motel room, it felt like the bitter cold air had seeped into his very bones. The moment he passed the threshold, he let his skate bag slip from his shoulder and hit the floor with a thud. He then proceeded to fall face-first onto the bed, too exhausted to even change into a pair of sweats. His body ached from the cold and the brutal intensity of his first solo practice in Gryffindor.

Leo had been in the city for nearly a week, most of his days had been spent in group sessions where he met the other skaters also working under Madam Maxine. Today had been the first time he had worked one on one with her, honestly, it was the first time he had worked one on one with a figure skating coach at all.

Back in New Orleans, after the-

Well just after, Leo couldn’t bring himself to gear up and get back in the net but he also couldn’t bring himself to abandon the one place that soothed the hurt inside him. So instead, he stepped out onto the ice in a pair of figure skates, he damn near broke his ass the first time he tripped on the toe pick. From that day though Leo worked, he worked so hard to learn the ins and outs of the figure skating world; he worked until he could execute each jump, each spin perfectly. And so what if he was working to avoid the memories?

Leo entered his first contest as a bit of a joke, the owner of his local rink had told him to do it, so he did. Who was to think that he would actually win? And standing there in the center of the rink with people tossing flowers on the ice for him, Leo was hooked. From that point on Leo continued working, and while it still helped to block out the memories of- of that, this time he was working towards something. He spent countless hours in the rink, in dance studios, and researching a coach that would take him on. That’s how he found himself here in Gryffindor, laying face first on a musty motel bed.

Leo groaned at the soreness in his body; if this is how he felt after just his first week here, he was a bit scared to think about what the future would hold.

The only highlight of his day had been meeting them; Finn and Logan. The image of their faces seemed to have been etched under his eyelids because no matter what he did he couldn’t seem to push them away. Leo sighed and rolled onto his back, he reached down to fish his phone from his pocket and opened the search. Logan had mentioned they had been there for practice, Leo knew for a fact that they weren’t figure skaters, so that really only left one other option.

Leo’s fingers hesitated for just a moment before typing Gryffindor Lions Finn and Logan into his phone. Almost instantly, information popped up, press photos of them in their game day suits, gifs of them slamming each other into the boards after a goal. Scrolling down just a bit he clicked open the wiki article.

            Finn O’Hara, age 23, was born and raised in New York and was drafted to the Gryffindor Lions in 2017. O’Hara graduated from Harvard University with a degree in English Language Arts and Creative Writing. He gained prestige playing on the Harvard Collegiate hockey team, during the duration of his time at the school. O’Hara, number 17, currently plays right wing…

The article continued into Finn’s stats, Leo scrolled down farther and clicked on Logan’s name highlighted in blue.

            Logan Tremblay age 22 joined the Gryffindor Lions the following year in 2018, seeming content to continue his career alongside long-time friend and teammate Finn O’Hara. Tremblay left his hometown of Rimouski, Quebec, Canada to attend Harvard University. Upon graduating with a Business degree, Tremblay joined the NHL. Number 10, also playing right wing…

Leo clicked out of the Wiki and opened Instagram, it didn’t take long before he was scrolling through countless pictures and videos of them, and gods were they gorgeous. The way Finn handled a puck, the strength behind Logan’s slap shot. Leo’s breath hitched each time he found a picture of them shirtless his eyes roving over the strength of their muscles.

What are you even doing to yourself? Leo thought, his thumb pausing its scroll on a picture of Logan in the locker room, half-dressed and a stick between his legs taping the blade.  

You told yourself never again. Have you forgotten already? That thought sent a painful stab through Leo’s heart; he threw his phone into the corner of the room disgusted with himself that he dared to even entertain the idea that he was attracted to these men.

I’ll never forget, never. Leo’s eyes drifted up to the tacky popcorn ceiling of his motel room, he stared there trying to ignore the painful throbbing in his heart as hot tears leaked from the corner of his eyes.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there; sniffling softly as wave after wave of hurt washed over him but eventually, Leo’s burning eyes slipped closed as he drifted into a restless sleep.

***

Leo startled awake to the sharp blaring sound of his alarm, he reached over to the nightstand to turn off the obnoxious sound only to realize his phone wasn’t there. Groaning, he vaguely remembered tossing it into the corner last night, Leo crawled out of bed cringing slightly at the uncomfortable feeling of the street clothes he slept in. Finally turning off the alarm, Leo thanked whatever miracle it was that his phone hadn’t died in the night.

Groaning again Leo made his way into the bathroom only to flinch at the sight of his red puffy face reflected back at him. He splashed himself with icy water until satisfied the redness was from the cold rather than his dried tear tracks.

Gods, you’re pathetic, he thought to himself as he brushed his teeth. Just stick to the plan. You’ve got this Knut. With a sigh, Leo made quick work of gathering his things to head to his morning ballet class, body still sore from practice the day before.  

Leo slipped into the dance studio quietly and switched into his soft leather flats before claiming the far corner to begin stretching. This was always one of his favorite parts, the smooth methodical way he is able to loosen his body, the slight burn in his tired muscle as they began to warm, the grounding sensation of just moving in such purposeful ways. He found it soothing.

“Leo!” a posh male voice called out from the door of the studio, making Leo cringe just a bit and lean deeper into his stretch. The man quickly strode over to him and dropped to the floor to begin his own warm-up as he began chatting, “Did you see that triple axel I landed flawlessly in practice the other day?” he asked flipping his silky blond hair out of his face and shooting him a blindingly white smile.

Leo repressed a snort. If by flawless, he meant nearly fell on his ass then yes Leo had seen it. Instead, he opted to ignore the question entirely, “Good morning, Gilderoy.”

“You know if you want, I could teach you,” Gilderoy continued, “I know you haven’t been skating as long as most of us, so I wouldn’t mind doing a bit of extra practice with you.” Leo bit back the urge to say he had been skating his whole life.

“That’s ok Gil, I’m more of a solo practice kinda guy,” Leo replied instead, rolling his eyes when the other man wasn’t looking, then slid down into a full split. Leo breathed in deeply and leaned forward until his entire upper body was pressed flat to his front leg. He held it for a moment then slowly pulled his body upwards until he was bent backward over his back leg, his arms extended into the stretch.

“Leo, love, you don’t need to be self-conscious around me,” Gilderoy said in what Leo could only assume was meant to be a comforting voice, “I know it might be intimidating to learn from a World Championship finalist but I just want to help you.”

Leo bit his cheek in an attempt not to giggle at that statement, he had seen last year’s World Championship. The only reason Gilderoy had even made it on the podium was due to several skaters having to drop from the contest last minute due to injuries, and even then he only got bronze.

“Stop harassing him Gil,” another voice said just before Gilderoy let out an indignant squawk. Leo glanced up to see a tall redhead ruffling Gilderoy’s previously perfectly quaffed hair.

“Morning Leo,” he said with a wink.

“Morning Fab,” Leo grinned as he fought to keep down the image of a different redhead that wanted to take control of his thoughts. Though as he watched Fabian begin moving through his warm-ups he couldn't help but notice how very different they were. Whereas Fabian had the tall lean structure of a dancer, Finn was bulkier, his muscular build tapering down into a trim waist.  Fabian’s hair burned a bright ginger with the sides shaved down short into an undercut; Finns auburn hair had looked so soft and fluffy, Leo wished he could have run his hands through it. And that right there was the biggest difference, Fabian was a friend, another skater under the guidance of his coach, but Finn… Finn made Leo’s stomach flip just to think about.

Jesus, you don’t even know the man, get your shit together. Leo’s thoughts were soon pulled away from redheads when Madam Maxine swept into the room to begin their practice.

Later, panting and sweaty from performing combination after combination, Leo switched back into his street shoes and was gathering his things when he heard his name.

“Leo!” Fabian called before plopping down next to him to change his own shoes, “Hey, so Benji and I are going to the Lions home game tomorrow, and we have a couple extra tickets if you wanna come?”

Leo looked up and blinked a bit thrown off by the offer, he hadn’t watched hockey in years. Not since… well not since it happened.

“Oh, um… I shouldn’t,” Leo stuttered out, trying to think up an excuse to decline the invitation.

“What! Why not? My brother and a couple other friends are coming too, it’ll be fun. Give you a reason to get out of your motel room that isn’t just practice.”

“That’s just it, I really should practice more. I don’t have the time to take the night off, I mean I haven’t been performing for nearly as long as y’all. I have a lot of ground to make up here.”

“Leo, babycheeks,” Fabian said dramatically, then casually wrapping his arm around Leo’s shoulders, “I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this before or if you are just being willfully oblivious, but you skate better than about 90% of the people here and probably about 80% of the people in the industry. Are there some things you need to work on? Sure, but that goes for literally everyone. Your lack of performing experience is not a lack of talent or skill. So with that being said come out with us, enjoy the game, make some friends, practice will always be here when you get back.”    

“That’s sweet of you to say Fab, but…”

“Nope! No buts! We are kidnapping you from your room, taking you to the game and you are going to have a great time. Then you will be all ‘Oh Fabian! Thank you so much for helping me get a social life! Oh! How ever can I repay you!’” Fabian said dramatically imitating Leo with a ridiculously over the top southern accent, “Then I will be like ‘it was my pleasure, but I would accept your undying gratitude if you teach me that glorious step sequence you did in practice the other day.’”

At this point, Leo’s eye roll got lost in his laughter as he pulled his bag onto his shoulder.

“Besides, if for no other reason, you can just spend the evening ogling hockey players.”

At that Leo’s mind flashed back to a pair of sparkling emerald eyes staring into him and soft curls fluffing out under a snapback, reluctantly he sighed and accepted he probably wasn’t getting out of this, “Alright fine, but you’re buying me a beer.”

“I think I can swing that,” Fabian said with a laugh, “and yes, you can come too Gil.”

Gilderoy had been lingering during their conversation just close enough to listen and make himself noticeable, at the sound of his name he instantly perked up, “Oh, that’s so flattering of you to invite me,” he said as if he hadn’t been fishing for an invitation, “Of course I’ll have to call and cancel a couple of plans though, with such short notice you know.”

Fabian simply rolled his eyes, very much used to Gilderoys dramatics, “You do that, and Leo, I’ll text you what time we’ll pick you up.”

“Sounds good, I’ll see ya then,” Leo said with a slight wave before he slipped out of the ballet studio and back out into the cold.

Read on AO3 

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

[puckinghell]

The Plus One Pact | William Nylander | Part 3

Summary: Your ex is getting married, and you don’t have a date, which means the unavoidable “why don’t you have a boyfriend” question is about to haunt you for the rest of eternity. But then there’s Will, who could be the answer to all your problems. A simple business pact, no feelings involved: that won’t be hard for you, because you really don’t like him anyways. Except pacts were made to be broken… or something. Right?

Note: This is part 3. Click here for part 1 | part 2

-- 

You’ve never seen Will nervous.

And, okay, you know he gets nervous. You asked Zach once, if his teammates still got nervous before big games the way Zach himself does, and Zach said yes, especially the younger guys; Mitchy, Willy, Matts.

“There’s more pressure on their shoulders than you or I could ever understand,” he’d said with a pointed look.

You think Zach carries a fair amount of pressure himself, but to be fair, he rarely seems to be bothered by it.

So, you know Will gets nervous before big games, but you don’t really ever see him, then, so you’ve never seen him nervous. That’s why it’s so weird now.

“Are you afraid of flying?”

Willy’s head snaps up as he looks at you with a puzzled expression.

“Of course not. I fly for work all the time.”

You’re sitting in the plane to Calgary, which Will, at the very least, paid for. It’s your second event together; Will’s cousin’s baby shower slash gender reveal party.

“Well, you’ve been fidgeting.”

At your words, Willy’s hand stills from where it’s been plucking at the thread of his hoodie for the past 20 minutes. He’s also been pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and digging his teeth into it, the way he does with his mouthguard sometimes during games.

“I’m a bit nervous,” Will admits. He’s refusing to look at you, now, staring out of the little plane window as if there’s anything to see there except white puffy clouds that reach as far as you can see into the distance.

“Why? You love your family.”

It’s a fair question, because if there’s one thing you know about Willy, and kinda like about Willy, it’s how vehemently and outwardly he loves and cares for his family. He’s always talking about his siblings accomplishments, and he never lets a call from his mom or dad go unanswered. Whenever Alex is around, he’s beaming with happiness, all bright smiles and laughter, and one year he was over at Zach’s Christmas party because he couldn’t make it home to Sweden that year for Christmas, and he was so miserable you couldn’t feel anything but really sorry for him.

However, the question gets Will’s hackles up. You see it immediately in the way his face hardens, emotion carefully tucked away beneath the mask.

You hate it, when he gets like this. You didn’t used to ever see it, but then the contract stuff happened and people started asking dumb questions and you saw it more and more.

To be honest, you always thought it was born out of arrogance, a how dare you question me – attitude, but it hits you now that it’s just a shield, designed to protect himself.

You don’t know what to think of the fact that apparently you know Willy enough to see that, now.

“Of course I love my family,” Will says, and his voice is sharp. “I just know I’m going to have to answer questions I don’t wanna answer.”

“About me?” you hazard a guess. The way Willy looks at you tells you you’re right.

He sighs. “About me bringing someone, yeah. They worry about me a lot, and after what happened with my last girlfriend, they don’t really trust me to make good decisions when it comes to relationships, anymore.”

Your frown must be questioning enough, because he continues.

“She broke up with me during the contract negotiations. Apparently, if I wasn’t Toronto’s favorite anymore, I couldn’t be hers, either.”

Despite everything, your heart breaks a little, for him.

“So I’m gonna have to convince them I’m not after fame and good fortune, huh?” you try to lighten the mood, keeping your voice cheery. You even go as far as to bump your shoulder into Will’s, because that guy thrives on physical contact – you didn’t make that up, Zach actively makes fun of Willy for it all the time – and he looks like he could use some support.

It works a little, because Will smiles, but the smile is tinged with sadness so it doesn’t work as well as you’d hoped.

“Don’t worry, they won’t believe you are. Dating me will get you the opposite of that in Toronto, nowadays.”

For the first time since you’ve known Will, you really want to tell him that’s not true.

The conversation in the plane kinda throws you, a little bit, to the point where the cab ride from the airport to Willy’s cousin’s house is so quiet that Will grabs your hand and squeezes when you get out of the car.

“They’re gonna like you,” he mumbles. “I promise you don’t have to worry about that. I’ll worry about the questions, you just go eat some cakes and look at baby clothes with my sisters, or something.”

It’s nice, that he’s trying to put you at ease like that, but to be honest that’s not what you’d been thinking about.

You’d been thinking about him.

Will can be loud and boisterous and there’s almost always a cheeky twinkle in his eyes that makes you feel like he’s not taking anything serious. He’s hot, and everyone thinks so, and he knows everyone thinks so, and you always kinda assumed he thought he was the best thing since sliced bread.

This side of him, the vulnerable side, is something you hadn’t expected to ever see from him, because you didn’t think he had it. Zach has told you, of course, over the years.

“Willy’s not like you think” and “he’s different when it’s just him and his close friends.”

“So he’s acting?” you’d challenged. “As if that’s better.”

“Not acting, really,” Zach had answered, unbothered by your bad mood at the time. “He really can be like that, fun and impulsive and he loves people and being around people. But he has a vulnerable, insecure side. He just keeps that side closer to his chest than most.”

You hadn’t really believed Zach. You thought you were a good judge of character, and William Nylander, to you, was nothing but another rich privileged handsome male who assumed life would simply work out in his favor because he’d never known anything else.

Now you’re doubting that. And it’s messing with your head.

Because if Will really cares about what people think of him so much… Well, let’s just say you’re suddenly feeling a little guilty about all those thoughts you’ve had behind his back.

You don’t say any of this, though, because it’s time to turn on the charm the way Will had for you, at the wedding.

“I’ll try not to flirt with your cousin’s husband,” you mumble, and Will’s laughs sounds a little more like himself, before knocking on the door.

“William!” The door gets opened by a beautiful blonde woman with a massive belly. Willy’s cousin, you assume. Her eyes immediately catch on you, and her smile is laced with surprise. “You brought someone.”

“Hey, Alice.” Will leans in, kisses both her cheeks the way Europeans do, sometimes. “This is Y/N, she’s my plus one for today.”

You notice he doesn’t call you his girlfriend, per se, but for some reason you expect that’s the conclusion his family is going to reach anyway.

“You didn’t even tell me you were bringing a plus one,” Alice scolds, but there’s nothing but fondness in her voice. “Luckily we have enough cakes.”

She ushers you into the house and suddenly you’re surrounded by beautiful blond people all yelling Will’s name.

“Calm down,” Willy giggles, as he starts kissing people’s cheeks and ruffling little kids’ hair.

You get introduced, but it all goes so quick and there’s so many people, you forget their names as soon as Will says them. The only ones you make sure to remember are the names of his siblings; Alex, of course, you’ve met before after games, and then there’s Jacquline, Michelle, Stephanie and Daniella. The girls especially are all over you right away, but not in a bad way; they’re asking you about your shoes and compliment your hair, and what do you do for a living and have you ever been to a Swedish baby shower before?

“They’re not any different from Canadian baby showers,” Will rolls his eyes at that, but there’s nothing but fondness in his eyes when he looks at his siblings. 

His hand lands on your lower back in protective fashion, as he starts guiding you out of the house. When some of his sisters follow, he shoots them a pointed look, then barks something in Swedish.

You kinda like how melodic his voice sounds in Swedish.

His sisters talk back, but then they all disappear.

“What did you say?”

“I told them that they couldn’t steal you away from me before I even get you a drink,” Will answers, something cheeky laced in his voice. “So, blue or pink lemonade? Depending on whether you think boy or girl.”

The garden is bigger than you expected based on the size of the house, and it’s beautiful, flowers blooming everywhere. There’s standing tables with people everywhere, and a buffet table where the drinks are.

“Have you looked around?” you giggle. Almost all of the kids are little girls. “Pink.”

“Nah, no way.” Will hands you a pink one, and takes a blue one himself. “With this many girls in the family, we have to get a boy now.”

“That’s what we said when we got Daniella.” The voice is tinted with accent, light and welcoming. Will’s face lights up when he hears it.

“Mom!” They hug, and you can see how Camilla squeezes her son tightly. It pulls a smile out of you; loving family dynamics have always been foreign to you, but it’s nice to see. “This is Y/N,” Will says, when they break apart, and Camilla shakes your hand with a smile.

“So nice of you to come,” she says. “Will didn’t tell us he was bringing someone.”

“Uh, that’s on me,” you lie through your teeth. “I wasn’t sure I could make it.”

“We’re all glad you did.” Camilla looks at Will, and you can see the question in her look, but she doesn’t ask it. “I’ll go tell your dad you’re here.”

As soon as she’s off, you turn to Will.

“You didn’t tell her I was coming? They’re all gonna think this is so weird!”

Will’s eyes glitter with mischief. “Yes, and that’s why the plan works.” You must look confused, cause he laughs. “If they’re all busy speculating about who you are and why I brought you, they’re not gonna ask me about my ex, my lack of a love life, or the fact that I haven’t given them any grandkids yet.”

He looks smugly proud of his idea, and you can’t stop the eye roll.  

“Right, no, perfect plan,” you snide. “I’ll just take all the hits and have everyone looking at me as if I’ve got two heads all day.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” Will waves in the general direction of the garden. “Soon they’re gonna announce the baby’s gender, and then nobody is gonna care about you anymore.”

“Gee, thanks.” But you’re teasing now, and it’s clear Will gets that because he leans a bit closer and winks.

“Except for me, of course.”

--

You shouldn’t have worried. The Nylanders turn out to be a friendly bunch and they immediately include you in every conversation you happen to stumble upon. To their credit, they don’t ask you even once what you’re doing there or what Will is to you.

You suppose he’s having less luck, because you look over and find Camilla talking to him intently in Swedish, and him staring at the floor like a scolded toddler.

You’ve been barely standing alone for two seconds when Alice appears next to you.

“You’ll have to excuse everyone’s curiosity,” she says. “Will didn’t tell us he was dating anyone.”

“Uhm.” What the hell are you supposed to say to that. Luckily, it doesn’t matter, because she keeps talking.

“We’re all glad that he is, though. We were all a bit worried about him. Anyway, can I ask you a massive favor?” she asks. “We’re about to let out the balloon to reveal the gender, but it’s in the garage and I kinda don’t wanna squeeze in there.” She laughs and motions to her massive belly. “Could you go get it for me?”

You immediately say yes, not only because she’s nice but because you’re glad for the opportunity to do something useful. You haven’t seen Will in a while, and you suppose that’s fair enough because you kinda left him to his own devices at the wedding last week, too, but Will is good at socializing and you aren’t, so you’ve been feeling a bit out of place.

Besides, if Alice starts asking more questions, you don’t think you’ll have the answers. Damn, this is harder than you thought it would be.

The garage is filled with boxes, bikes, and even a washing machine, so you have to squeeze through a pretty tight fit to get through the boxes that say balloons on them.

You hadn’t really expected there to be so many of them.

Everything happens way too fast and simultaneously in slow motions, then. You realize there’s no way of knowing in which box the massive balloon is, so you open one of the boxes. There’s nothing in it.

“Y/N, are you in here?” Willy’s voice calls.

You open the second box at that exact moment, and before you realize what’s happening, there’s a blue balloon floating out of the garage, up into the sky.

“No,” you breathe, and Will’s eyes widen almost comically as he realizes what just happened.

It’s a boy! the balloon reads, and then it floats too high to even read anything at all.

“It’s a helium balloon,” Will deadpans, as if you hadn’t noticed that by now.

“Oh God.” You just ruined their entire party. “Oh God oh God oh God.”

You’re starting to panic, and it’s not funny at all, but then Will starts laughing, uncontrollable giggles as he clutches his stomach, and you can’t not laugh with him.

Even if you’re on the brink of crying.

“I told you it would be a boy,” Willy giggles. “I can’t believe you messed up so much worse than me!”

“Will, stop.” You manage to quiet down your hysterical giggles only to clutch at Willy’s arm. “We have to fix this! Imagine what Alice is gonna say.”

That stops Will’s laughter, too, although he’s still smiling.

“I’ll stop laughing if you stop looking like you just murdered the baby. It’s just a balloon, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but…”

Will shushes you by wrapping an arm around your shoulder and carefully leading you out of the garage. He must feel that you’re on the edge of a mental breakdown, because he keeps his arm there, heavy and steadying, as he starts leading you back into the house and up the stairs.

It’s kinda nice.

“I’ll fix it,” he promises, and he sounds an awful lot like Zach, suddenly. “I’ve got an idea.”

You would hope his ideas are better than Zach’s, but unfortunately they seem pretty on par, because Will grabs a regular, non-text blue balloon from the study where they’re all stored, and a waterproof sharpie.

“This is so not gonna work!” you protest. “I should just come clean.”

Willy pulls a complicated face. “After I’ve just had to listen to twenty minutes of my mom telling me that you’re amazing, and she has such a good feeling about you, and if I let you go I’ll not only disappoint her but set myself up for disappointment for the rest of my life? No thanks.”

He turns the balloon so you can see it, and you decide to focus on it because you can’t unpack all of that right now. 

“I think the balloon company might get a pretty angry email, but that should be it.”

On the balloon, there’s written It’s a boy! Except in Willy’s scrawly handwriting it looks a lot less good than the balloon that’s currently floating somewhere in space. In fact, it looks a little like it says It’s a 6oy!

However, you also don’t fancy Camilla’s disappointed face, so you allow Willy to shove it in a box and bring it outside.

The entire family gathers around, and Alice and her husband Otto are standing with their arms around each other in front of the box, when Willy’s hand reaches out and grabs your, lacing your fingers together.

And you’re totally gonna ignore the dumb little skip your heart does at the contact, because that’s not how you and Willy work; surely he’s just trying to sell the story of you dating to his family.

Even though nobody is looking at you. 

Either way, you are grateful to him for saving your ass, there.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, soft enough for only him to hear. “About the balloon.”

“Don’t be.” Willy’s smile is genuine. “I’ve never laughed so hard at a baby shower before. And my entire family has come up to say that they love you, and nobody has asked me when I’m gonna get serious about my life. So I should be thanking you, if anything.”

You’ve barely talked to half the Nylander family, and you wonder how awful his previous girlfriend was that they’re all fawning over you, now, but you can’t think about it too much because then someone is counting down.

3, 2, 1…

The box opens. The balloon floats up. There’s silence for one beat, two beats, and you swear they’re gonna call you out, but then someone cheers and suddenly Alice is crying and Otto is being manhandled by some other guys and everyone is clapping, and Willy grins.

“It’s a boy,” Alice calls out.

“I’m so glad she could read that.” Willy’s voice is deadpan but the twinkle in his eyes is still there, and suddenly you’re laughing.

“I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much at a baby shower, either,” you tell him truthfully, and it probably shouldn’t make you feel something that Will looks quietly pleased, at that.

[mizumelona]

set me up | atsumu x reader

SYNOPSIS: You’re an ambitious career woman, who’s got everything…except a significant other. Your mom, sick of you showing up to family functions alone, sets you up on a series of (terrible) blind dates. You make these dates meet you at your favorite restaurant, Onigiri Miya, but for some reason the owner’s jerk of a twin brother always happens to be there exactly when things crash and burn.

NOTE: Hello? Remember me? Did ya’ll think I’d dropped this. Ahhh Sorry for being slow. I felt like I had to take my time with this chapter since it’s the last one! (In the main story. I’m still planning on having an epilogue). Thanks for being patient! I’m so excited to finally share this with you all!

MASTERLIST

PREV | THE FAMILY BRUNCH | NEXT

TAGLIST: @awkwardali6106​ @kasandrafaye​ @veggytaled​ @svtbitch​ @stinkyobeymerat​ @hollypastl​ @differentballooncollection​ @o51oc​ @sunboikyo00 @justxanotherxshipper​ @kaisemieita @rizamendoza808 @tomo-uwu​ @sugardaddykenma​ @celinafeng@ravioliplease​ @thatpersonwithissues​ @humanbobjeanpants​ @suteorra​ @jh-bee​​ @haikyuu-blondes @of-heroes-and-dreams 

~

Atsumu’s car flew down the highway toward your aunt's house.

It was a bright day. You observed the puffy clouds spread across the sky through the window of Atsumu’s truck. It was an older Tacoma model but somehow it had a fresh leathery smell. You could tell that Atsumu treated this thing like his baby. As shitty as his personality was, you couldn’t deny that Atsumu seemed like a pretty reliable guy.

You looked over at him in the driver's seat. He was sitting with his left hand on the wheel and his right arm slung over the back of your chair. He was wearing a white button-down with the sleeves pushed up tucked into some dark jeans.

The sun was catching on his hair, dancing along its golden waves as he bobbed his head to the guitar riff playing on the speakers. The first few chords of a new song started. It was that one Megan Thee Stallion song that was always on the radio lately. Huh, you never really pegged Atsumu to be into rap.

You were about to go back to staring out the window when Atsumu turned to you and drawled in unison with the speakers, “I’m that bitch~”

You made an incredulous face. He looked over at you with a smirk but didn’t stop. “Been that bitch, still that bitch~”

You burst out laughing and then decided to chime in, “Will forever be that bitch~”

Atsumu flashed a bigger smile, his face turning a little red from trying not to laugh. You had trouble keeping up between your cackles. He was nodding his head and waving his right hand along to the beat. For the next few minutes, you both vibes along with the song until it finished. Once it did Atsumu turned to you with a snicker, “You’re not half bad sweetheart”

“Of course not”, you said crossing your arms. “I am that bitch. And apparently, you are too”, you snickered.

With a sigh you looked out the window, realizing that you were getting close to your aunt's house now. Suddenly it hit you that you were really going through with this. Was it a stupid idea? Would things go terribly wrong? Would someone see through the act and call you out? Your forehead went tense as you imagined all the worst-case scenarios for what could happen.

“Oho it’s a little too late to be gettin’ cold feet”, Atsumu said, clearly reading your thoughts.

“Hnnng”, you grumbled and massaged your temples.

“And anyway”, Atsumu continued, “isn’t this what ya wanted. It’s gonna be fun. Trust me” He turned to you with a boyish grin as he said that, the kind that made your heartbeat just a little bit faster.

Jeez. This guy. It was all your idea, so why did he sound more excited about it than you were?

“Plus. You’ve got me on your side. Makin’ my teammates shine is my special skill.”, Atsumu said with a smirk. Nevermind, he definitely wasn’t cute. Just your every day egotistical asshole. And now your nerves were back. Rip.

“This isn’t volleyball!” You quipped back. “Also slow the fuck down! We’re getting close to the house!”

“Wait, what! Which house!”, Atsumu exclaimed, slamming on the breaks.

“The blue one- No! Not that blue one the other blue one!”

Atsumu pulled the truck into the driveway with a screech. You lurched forward but your seatbelt stopped you from flying into the dash. You were about to flip out at him when you noticed your jerk cousin sticking his head out of the door inspecting the truck. Right. He probably didn’t recognize Atsumu’s truck. Hehe. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.

You looked nervously at Atsumu, but he didn’t seem worried at all. If anything he seemed giddy.

“Ya ready?”, Atsumu said, his eyes glinting.

“Of course”, you said, giving him a sly smile.

You both opened your doors and got out of the truck. As you fixed your hair, Atsumu jogged around to your side of the car and snaked his arm around your waist. You raised your eyebrows at him. He leaned down so his lips brushed against your ear and whispered, “let’s have fun with this”

He then moved his lips from your ear to your face and planted a gentle kiss on your cheek. You felt your face flush. He smirked and whispered in your ear again. “That was pretty cute. Didn’t take you as the type get flustered easily”

Was that a challenge? You glanced at your cousin who was still gaping at the doorway and smiled. If that’s how this was going to be, game on. You wrapped your arm around Atsumu and leaned your head against his chest, as you two made your way to the entrance.

“Hey cuz!”, you called out.

“Hey”, he absentmindedly responded, staring at Atsumu. “Who…is this?”

“Oh! This is my boyfriend, Atsumu.”, you said with extra emphasis on the word boyfriend.

“Nice ta meet ya”, Atsumu held out his hand.

Your cousin still looked confused as fuck. To be fair it’d been several years since you’d last been in a relationship and even then you rarely brought your significant others to family parties. In a way, fake-or-not, bringing Atsumu today was a first.

You pulled Atsumu past your dumbstruck cousin, through your aunt’s house toward the backyard where brunch was about to start. You both paused in the doorway taking in the sight. When it came to stuff like this, your family was unapologetically extra. Flowers were arranged and the nice dishware was set out at the large table on the left side of the space where most of your family was seated chatting. Atsumu’s eyes lingered on the volleyball net that was set up on the opposite end of the yard.

You took a few steps ahead of Atsumu, making your way through the door and down the stairs into the yard when your foot slipped. “Woah there!”, Atsumu exclaimed, lunging forward and looping his arm around your waist to prevent you from toppling over the side of the little staircase and into your aunt’s flowerbed. “Jeez that was a close one sweetheart”, he told you with a grin and a chuckle.

“T-thanks”, you stuttered out, hyperaware of how the chatter in the space had suddenly died down. Your aunts and cousins exchanged sly smiles and incredulous looks at the scene in front of them. You gulped. Atsumu beamed.

“Y/n?”, your mom called out looking bewildered. She glanced from you to Atsumu then back to you. “Who is this?”

“I’m her boyfriend, Atsumu. Nice to meet ya. Hope I’m not intrudin’”, Atsumu said with a toothy grin.

“Oh no. Not at all! Come sit down!”, your mom ran up to you both and got you situated next to each other at the table.

“I told you”, one of your aunties whispered loudly to your mom. The kind of whisper that was meant to be heard.

“You told her what?”, you asked.

“That you had a boyfriend. I heard all about it from Daisuke’s mom”, she said with a satisfied shrug.

“You did?”, you said, incredulous. The aunties’ gossip was next level. How did they already hear about that?

“I heard some guy crashed your date with Daisuke to declare his love for you”, she replied in a matter-of-fact tone. Atsumu coughed and looked at you raising an eyebrow. You suppressed a snicker.

“He said what?”, Atsumu said, trying to keep up his dashing smile but his irritation was clearly showing through. You had to suppress another snicker. He was always going on about how fake your smiles were but let’s be real, he was worse. His fake smile intensified and he inconspicuously kicked you under the table, but you just returned the favor and smiled wider. Oh the beauty of gossip.

Your aunt continued, “I also heard that Daisuke was going to fight the guy so you dumped water on him” Now it was Atsumu’s turn to laugh. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. What the hell Daisuke? Talk about a two-faced snake.

“I did what?”, you exclaimed with a scoff.

“And that after you ran off together into the sunset”, your aunt concluded the story. You and Atsumu sat dumbfounded. What kind of warped tale was this? Your aunt leaned closer and asked, “You’re her secret boyfriend right?”

Atsumu thought for a second then looked at you with a devious smirk. While the rumors were wild, they weren’t exactly bad. After all, you were here to convince your family that you and Atsumu were having a sweeping romance. Why not lean into it? You smiled back him and somehow knew you were on the same wavelength. Atsumu put his arm around your shoulder and replied, “Well I guess it’s no secret anymore, but yeah it’s true. I’m absolutely crazy about her”

“And apparently, I’m a little crazy for him too”, you added. You leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Atsumu’s cheek. As you pulled away, you noticed that despite his nonchalant smirk his cheeks were turning pink. For all his big talk, he got flustered this easily? Maybe you should tease him more often.

You reached for his hand under the table and gave it a little squeeze as the meal began. Atsumu turned to you looking a little surprised, then rubbed your palm with his thumb and squeezed your hand back.

~

“I’m gonna go make myself a drink”, you excused from yourself from the table, leaving Atsumu who was chatting animatedly with your aunties. You made your way over to the drink table and poured yourself a cup. Your asshole cousin, seemingly recovered from the shock of your entrance, walked up to the table and poured himself a drink too.

“So”, he said pausing to take a sip, “How’d you meet this guy anyways. You were definitely single at my wedding three weeks ago.”

“Why do you sound so suspicious? We just kept running into each other. It was like fate or something”, you said making a grand gesture with your cup.

Your cousin scoffed. “Hah fate? Are you kidding? There’s no way.”

“You’re real funny ain'tcha?”, Atsumu appeared wrapping you from behind in an embrace. You tensed up, surprised by his sneaky hug. Something told you this was payback for earlier.

Your cousin rolled his eyes and turned to Atsumu, “Tell the truth buddy, did she bribe you to come with her today?

“Nah she didn’t, but if I knew you were gonna be here, she might’ve had to”, Atsumu said with a menacing chuckle, “I’m kiddin’”

You snickered.

Suddenly, a volleyball flew in your direction. Before it could hit anyone, Atsumu crouched down and bumped it back in the direction it came from, where a bunch of the kids had been passing it back and forth.

“Watch it kiddos”, he shouted as he returned the ball.

“Thanks, mister”, one of the kids shouted back.

“Nice”, your cousin said with a smirk. “Do you play?”

“Yeah I do”, Atsumu said, fixing his hair.

“Hah. Same. I played for the club team back in university. Hey, do you wanna round some people up and play a little match?”, Your cousin nodded in the direction of the net.

You looked at Atsumu skeptically. No matter how you looked at it it wasn’t exactly fair for a pro-player to go up against a bunch of amateurs. Then again, Atsumu was here for the sole purpose of being petty…

“Sure. Why not?”, Atsumu accepted the offer and winked at you.

Soon Atsumu and your cousin had gathered two teams of three people on either side of the net and a small crowd of children to watch. You were watching seated from the table with your mom and a few other aunties.

“Hey lover boy, I’ll let you serve first”, your cousin shouted, tossing the ball to Atsumu. Atsumu adeptly caught the ball and deviously smiled in your direction. You held a hand over your mouth covering your smile. Your shitty cousin had no idea what he was getting into.

Atsumu stalked away from the net then stopped. You thought back to his little serve routine at his game and stifled a giggle. There was no way. He wasn’t going to do it. Not here. Not to a bunch of 8-year-olds. He turned back with a serious face and snapped his hand up into a fist. The kids looked around awkwardly.

“PFTTT”, you nearly did a spit take. LMAO did he really just try to silence a bunch of 8-year-olds. You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from full-on wheezing. Your mom gave you a concerned look, so you took a deep breath and tried to pull yourself together.

“So”, the gossiping aunty from earlier turned to you and asked, “What does your boyfriend do?”

“Oh, Atsumu?”, you smiled and watched as Atsumu leaped into the air and slammed his hand into the ball. “He’s a pro-volleyball player”. Everyone at the tables eyes went wide and swung to look the scene at the makeshift volleyball court.

Bang! The ball went flying over the net. You really shouldn’t have laughed, but after all the shit he put you through you couldn’t help the cackle that escaped your lips as you saw the incredulous look on your cousin's face as the ball came barreling in his direction. It slammed into his gut with a dull thud that had him doubled over wheezing.

“Shit man sorry about that.” Atsumu jogged up to the net and rubbed the back of his head bashfully. “I’ll tone it down next time” As he jogged back into position, Atsumu sneakily winked at you. Jeez, what an asshole…but maybe…it wasn’t so bad to have an asshole on your side. To be fair you were kind of a bitch yourself. Honestly together you made a compatible pair. A power couple... A couple huh? You didn’t mind the thought. Maybe even more than that. Maybe you liked it. Because even though today was just supposed to be fun and games maybe, just maybe…you wanted it to be real. Maybe, you liked him for real. Shit. You bit your lip.

~

“It was great ta meet ya’ll today”, Atsumu waved goodbye to your family and made his way back to his car.

Your cousin grimaced at him through the doorway. Your mom was literally glowing as she waved goodbye. As you ran up to give her a goodbye hug she whispered in your ear, “You are going to fill me in on this later. I don’t know where you found him, but don’t let him get away!”

You smiled and whispered back, “Okay” Well, you couldn’t exactly let your mom down could you? And it’s not like you wanted him to get away either. You made up your mind. There was only one thing to do now.

You and Atsumu got back into his truck and started driving away. The sun was high in the sky now.

“Phew”, you sunk into your seat.

“Tired?”, Atsumu reached over ruffling your hair. You slapped his hand away. He pulled back with a chuckle.

“Just a bit”, you said resting your cheek on your hand propped against the door. “Hey. Thanks for today. For everything”

“No problem sweetheart”, Atsumu said, still focused on the road.

“I can’t believe you tried to silence the kids though. That was fucking hilarious”, you snickered remembering the sight.

“What? It’s my ritual. Can’t serve without it”, Atsumu argued.

“Fine. fine. Also, that serve was hilarious. Thanks for that too”, you chuckled remembering that too.

“I have no idea what you're talkin’ about”, Atsumu said with a sly smile and wink.

“Riiight”, you said rolling your eyes.

“Back to your apartment sweetheart?”, Atsumu asked.

“Hm, can we actually go for a little detour?”

Atsumu raised his eyebrows, “Oh, where d’ya wanna go?”

“I dunno…anywhere?”, you weakly suggested. Atsumu tilted his head, looking even more confused. You continued, “I just don’t feel like going home just yet”

“…Okay”, he had a mischievous smile, "Then I’ll take ya to my special spot.”

“Ooo. Special spot? Wonder where it could be”, you rolled down the window letting the breeze blow through your hair.

~

“Y’know when you said you were gonna take me to your special spot somehow I thought it was going to be I dunno...cool?”, you deadpanned.

“What! This is totally cool!”, Atsumu exclaimed.

“This is the dingy back parking lot of the volleyball stadium!”, you exclaimed back, motioning to your surroundings. Yep, he’d brought you to the empty parking lot behind Sendai stadium. It was just you two in the truck and the dumpster across the lot. So romantic.

“It’s my special spot!”, Atsumu grumbled.

“…”, You didn’t know what to say to this idiot. You fell for this guy? This guy? Talk about a volleybaka.

“…it’s even more special because this is where we had our first date”, Atsumu continued grumbling.

“Date?”, you asked. Did he really think of that time as a date? Was he just messing around again? You couldn’t keep leaving things ambiguous. You snapped, “Party’s over lemon head, you can drop the act now.”

“Right…”, Atsumu sighed and scowled. Maybe that was a little harsh, but you needed to get real with him right now.

You steeled yourself and turned to him, ”Hey Atsumu. I’m done acting, so can you hear me out for real?”

“…Sure?”, Atsumu propped his cheek on his knuckles, his elbow resting on the steering wheel.

“When I first met you”, You tentatively started, “I thought you were a complete asshole”

“Well jeez thanks”, his face turned even more sour.

“As we kept running into each other”, You continued. Atsumu’s face lit up. “I was even more convinced you were an asshole”

He grimaced and looked down. “You really had me in the first half the-“

“You’re a big, fat, petty, asshole BUT I’m also a greedy, irritable bitch.”, Atsumu looked up and raised his eyebrows. You kept going, “When I’m with you I feel like I can just be my realest, nastiest self and it’ll be okay”

You sighed and smiled a genuine smile at him, “It’s like I can finally take a breath y’know. Be at ease. And because I’m not afraid of coming off as nasty, I have the space to be sweet if I want to, to be comfortable. And the more comfortable I got around you the more I realized you could be sweet and sincere too”

You turned and looked him straight in the eyes. You had to see his reaction to what you were about to say next. “I know I asked you to come today so we could mess around and be petty but”, you paused then squeezed the final words out, “but I think I like you for real”

You stared intently at him, trying to read his expression. To deduce his feelings, predict his response. What was he thinking? For a second his expression didn’t change at all, then he sighed an exasperated sigh, and a small grin spread across his lips.

“Jeez [y/n] that ain’t fair”, Atsumu raked his fingers through his hair and pouted. “You weren’t supposta beat me to it!”

“Huh?”, you paused, not knowing what to make of it. Beat him to it?

Atsumu started speaking, “I’m a jerk and I know it. I don’t care. It makes me stronger this way. Usually, people back off or scold me once they realize I’m an asshole, but you’re never afraid to play dirty.” He stopped to chuckle. “It was kinda charming. I thought that was all there was to my feelings for you: a little sexy rivalry. But lately, that changed…”

Atsumu bit his lip before continuing. “I hate losers…even if that loser is me, but with you…”, he sighed. “Did ya really expect me not to fall for ya? You, the girl who makes me feel cool even when I’m a loser” His face flushed and he smiled but he also looked like he was on the verge of tears. “I didn’t think somethin’ like that could ever happen. Do you know how crazy that feels? For everything you thought you knew about yourself to be flipped upside down like that?” He looked straight at you with determination. You couldn’t turn away. “That’s why I’m sure. I like you. I like you for real”

Atsumu smiled a vulnerable, boyish smile. It looked so different on him from his usual devious smirks. You sat with your mouth agape.

After sitting in silence for what felt like it could be an eternity you finally spoke up, “…So we both like each other”

“Guess so sweetheart”, He shrugged, some mischief creeping into his tone. Classic Atsumu. He bit his lip, seemingly deciding on something and spoke, “Hey, there’s one thing I really don’t want ya to beat me to…if you’ll let me”

He leaned over the console, cupping his hand around your cheek. His hand was warm. You shivered at the touch.

“Can I?”, he asked.

You smiled and leaned toward him, but he swiftly pulled away.

“Woah woah I said I wanted to beat you to it!”

“Atsu-“

He closed the distance between you.

[barbiegirldream]

You looked at the comments on the vid right? I respect that dream is an insane Minecraft player yes, but calling the other teams "the viewer" teams to make themselves feel better is rude as hell. I acknowledge that they may have said that in the heat of the moment but there really was no heat of the moment was there? They had lost, all I see is them being bitter and dragging others down.

And I think that egotistical means that you think that your the best person to ever exist and no one is better than you. Which is why I said that he could be egotistical at some points.

Could he have done better than them in dodgebolt? We'll never know, he didn't get as far as they did.

I like dream plenty but I think that he is flawed. He is only a team player when it comes to his team, in one of his more recent reddit posts he complains that his points are being divided in a mcc game were people are supposed to work as a team, in the same reddit post he says that a lot of stuff in mcc is unfair to him and specifically him,

https://www.reddit.com/r/MinecraftChampionship/comments/os4c8s/comment/h6pycgu/

Just reading the post is something

I admire him as a person but I don't admire any of this.

Yeah I did they were calling out all of red rabbits including Jimmy who was friend with many of the people playing. It just goes to show me how little the viewer understands games. They were ragging on them. And Puffy said at some point in her vod that Dream always makes sure to apologize for the teasing. Because they’re just having fun. If there was any hard feelings it’s not the viewers place to white Knight they’ll handle it amongst themselves. If you don’t like Dream then don’t watch him but stop singling him out as if he made the whole event toxic.

You remember the last Dodgebolt? Players literally wanted Red Rabbits to lose. Only a couple of their friends were repping Red. They outwardly said they were sad yellow didn’t win. Viewers were angry that Dream and Sapnap won. You know who wasn’t angry? Dream, Sapnap, Quackity, and Michael. Because they won and they know their friends still care about them outside of MCC.

He’s a good team player too. He teaches people the games outside of MCC he freely offers advice. He sends love messages all throughout the game. He spent the end of Ace Race hyping up Niki. Like he’s a kind person and everyone who’s talked to him says the same. Why would so many people want to team with him if they thought he’d be a bad teammate?

Dream knowing he’s the best at Dodgebolt is much different than him saying he’s the best at MCC or Minecraft two things he’s never claimed.

And Dream is a person who’s very analytical about his performance and I think it’s partially ADHD (source i do it and everyone else I know with ADHD also does it) so He breaks down things he could do better or things he can learn from. Like the things he does in Manhunt? A lot of those tricks he learned from others like Sam or Fruit or Reddit.

Also speaking of Reddit minus Sands of Time I fully agree with Dream. Lots of MCC games don’t actually rely on team work. Parkour Tag only does if you make it. Dream and Sapnap had the best team work in the whole event.

Nox crew agrees with Dream on some of those points as they have done in the past and implemented some game changes. Plenty of players have said the same things Dream has but he’s the bad guy for it? Come on.

He’s allowed to be as sweaty as he wants or Scott wouldn’t have a selection for people to play competitively. Dream is a sweat and if you don’t like watching a sweaty MCC player pick a different pov.

I mean if you think Dream is arrogant then you do. We can agree to disagree but I don’t think he’s egotistical and I won’t budge on that. I’m not mad by the way I hope you know I’m not mad at you lol I just hate this argument about MCC in general ha cause I guess I just watch it for the sweats and I love CPK’s breakdowns which is all competitor based and whatnot. So maybe we like MCC for different reasons and Dream just doesn’t do it for you

[rainydaydream-gal18]

Bucky Barnes x Reader: Shall We Dance?

(Author’s Note: Hey all, I’m back but this time with a Bucky fic!  I just thought this was an adorable idea, and I even found a soundtrack for it.  You could play some 1940′s instrumental jazz in the background while reading this fic to enhance the experience, or not.  Up to you!

Also, this is sort of an AU that takes place after Civil War, but where the Avengers don’t separate yet.  So yeah I’m jumping on the bandwagon of Avengers still living in the tower with Bucky joining them XD)

   “Are you sure about this?” you asked, poking your head around the corner.  Taking note of what the guests were wearing, you immediately felt out of place.  Despite the party having a 1940’s theme, most of the ladies were wearing rather modern dresses that were long and elegant and touched the floor.  Some did go as far as pinning their hair in updos that were fitting for the time period, but even so, you glanced down at your old-fashioned evening gown and perfectly matched shoes with doubt.  It was a beautiful deep blue dress that went almost to your ankles.  The sleeves were a tad puffy at the shoulders before tightening into long sleeves the rest of the way to your wrists.  The outfit was very lovely, but it was most definitely out-dated compared to what the guests were wearing.

   It was a birthday celebration for Steve Rogers- a surprise one at that.  Stark had volunteered a floor of the Avengers tower for the venue, and Natasha and you had the neat idea of making it an old-fashioned party complete with music from the 1940’s to make things feel more like home.  You and Nat had fun researching the sort of clothes worn back then, but apparently not everyone had taken the theme so literally.

   “You kidding me?” Natasha responded in a low voice, brows furrowing slightly.  “You look great.  Now, let’s get out there and own it.”  A smile crept on your face, and you were glad to have a friend go into the party with, especially someone as confident as Romanoff.  She was dressed in a 1940’s gown too, though hers was a pretty dark green which complemented the red lipstick she wore.  “We were pretty specific about the theme of the party,” she continued.  “Technically, most of these people are the ones out of place, not us.”

   “Good point.”

   “This is for Steve anyway.  I’m sure he’ll appreciate the gesture.”

   It wasn’t necessarily the guests that concerned you.  Or Steve.  A certain someone would be in attendance, and you strived to be cool as a cucumber.

   “Alright, here goes nothing.”  You stepped out from the hallway and couldn’t help but smile.  The music was jazzy, and the lights made the scene even more charming as couples danced on the floor while others conversed at little tables or the bar.  Natasha walked beside you, eyes scanning the room.  They rested on Bruce, who was talking to Tony with a drink in his hand.

   “You going to say ‘hi’?” you asked, giving her a playful nudge.  She played it off as if she couldn’t care less, but you knew there was something going on between her and the scientist.

   “Maybe later.”

   A waiter approached with a tray, and Natasha gratefully accepted a shrimp cocktail while you decided to take a chance on a pastry.  As you bit into your snack, you looked to your friend.   

   “You look beautiful,” you complimented. 

   She flashed a warm smile, a rare but lovely sight from the secret agent.  “You look beautiful too,” she said.  Then, her eyes seemed to dart to something behind you.  “It looks like someone else thinks so.”

   Your mouth fell open.  “What?”  You snuck a glance over your shoulder in the most subtle way you could before quickly turning away when a pair of dark blue eyes gazed in your direction.  Your heartbeat quickened as Natasha raised a brow.  “It’s Bucky.”

   “Yes, it is,” she nodded, though her probing gaze didn’t leave your face as she took in your expression.  “Something wrong?”

   “No,” you said quickly.  A little too quickly.

   Her eyes traveled to the former Winter Soldier before a hint of a smirk appeared on her lips.  “Oh, so you still have a thing for him?”

   “What?  I never told you that.”

   “Didn’t need to.”  Her smirk grew.  “I sort of read people for a living, and it’s written all over your face whenever he walks in the room.”

   “Well, glad I was being subtle,” you remarked with an eye roll.  “I just get so nervous.  He’s a good friend, and…”

   “And he’s coming over here.”

   “He’s- what?”

   “He’s walking this way,” she mumbled under her breath.

   You followed her eyes to see those eyes fixed on you as he approached.  Though his dark hair was still somewhat long and unkempt, he wore a nice suit and shoes.  His lips pressed together in an awkward smile as he entered the space where you and Natasha stood.

   “Hey,” he greeted with a small wave.

   “Hi,” you said, smiling.  Natasha didn’t speak.  She only observed the interaction as your eyes wandered the room in desperate search for something else to talk about.  “This turned out to be a nice party,” you commented.  “You think Steve is having a good time?”

   “Yeah,” Bucky agreed, looking over to see the Captain having a dance with Sharon.  “It is nice.  I think he’s having fun.  Sure looked happy to see everyone when he walked in.”

   You laughed as you remembered his reaction- your friend and teammate’s look of pleasant surprise and then a big smile as everyone shouted “surprise!”  You even asked that Tony get a picture from the security footage.

   “Definitely loved the look on his face,” you said.  The conversation between the two of you quieted for a minute as both of you looked at your surroundings until Bucky spoke up again.

   “You like the music?” he asked, gesturing with a metal hand to your feet.  You hadn’t even noticed yourself swaying in place to the tune.  The realization caused you to give a sheepish smile and shrug.

   “I think I do.”

   Bucky’s little awkward smile widened, and his eyes held warmth as he asked, “do you wanna’ dance with me?”  Your eyes travelled to that inviting gaze of his, and it was like your heart was doing flips.  You nodded, and he extended his other hand to take yours.  Then, he looked to Natasha.  “Mind if I steal her for a dance or two?”

   Natasha smirked again.  “Not at all.  Have fun, you two.”

   Bucky glanced your way again before leading you toward the dance floor.  You shot a look at Natasha over your shoulder, mouth falling open in shock that this was happening.  She gave a nod of approval.

   Bucky stopped before going too far into the crowded space, turning to put the metal hand at your waist while you put your arm around the back of his neck.  He exhaled sharply in a silent chuckle, glancing down at his feet.  “Sorry,” he said, eyes darting back up to yours.  “It’s been a while.  I haven’t danced with a woman in….well, about seventy years.”

   “Oh,” you said quietly.  An ache grew in your heart at the thought.  He’d spent a lot of time brainwashed and forced to do awful things for Hydra.  Before you could dwell on it much further, you remembered where you were and tried to keep the conversation light-hearted.  “Well I hope I don’t disappoint you.  I haven’t had much experience dancing to this kind of music.”

   “_________,” he said, starting to sway to the music.  You let him lead you in the beginnings of the dance.  “You are far from disappointing me.”  He stepped back to give you a twirl, and you followed through with a smile on your face.  “And since I’m out of practice, we won’t do anything fancy.”

   “Sounds good to me.”

   A warm feeling gathered in your chest, and you were absolutely elated as you and Bucky let the tune carry you both.  The grin never left your expression.  He seemed to be smiling even wider as he got more comfortable.  Hearing this kind of music on the radio used to feel so strange to you.  You’d breeze past it to the next station in search of something more to your taste, something more modern.  But being there in that moment, dancing with Bucky, it felt so real.  So alive.  You could see why people enjoyed it.  From then on, you’d never think of it the same way.

   “You look gorgeous, doll,” Bucky said over the music, drawing your attention from the live band and back to his gaze.  The lights reflected as a splash of glowing color amongst the beautiful blue of his eyes.  “Where’d you find a dress like that?”

   You ducked your head slightly from the compliment.  “Oh, I got it online.  It was Natasha’s idea.  We were hoping everyone would dress up, but turns out it was just us.”

   “Well, I like it.  Love it, actually.”

   “Thank you.”  He gave you another twirl just as the song ended, and both of you pulled away to applaud the band along with the other couples.  Then, the band took a short pause to turn pages and take a breather before playing a slower song.  As the other couples drew closer to dance slowly, you stole a glance at your dance partner, wondering if he’d want to dance this song with you or take a break.  Before you could ask, he offered his hand.  You smiled, uncertainty vanishing, as he gently pulled you forward and put an arm around you.  Your face was inches from his shoulder, and you decided to just go along with it by wrapping your arms around him.  You took your first few steps of the dance carefully, adjusting to the slower tune.  Despite the hair raised on the back of your neck and the way your breath caught in your throat at the sweet moment you had dreamed of many times, it felt so safe there.  So secure.  You didn’t want to leave anytime soon.

   “So I’m impressed,” you said.  “No feet have been stepped on yet.”

   He pulled away ever so slightly to give you a humorous look.  “It’s been some time, but I have danced before, _________.”

   You laughed.  “Actually I was talking more about myself.”

   “Ah.  See, that makes more sense.”

   “Oh, please,” you joked.  “I’m not that bad.”

   He chuckled softly and rested his cheek against yours, like you’d seen in old-timey movies, as he swayed with you.  “No, no that bad indeed.”

   You were stunned into silence again at the contact.  Your steps weren’t a concern anymore because it felt like you were floating across the dancefloor.

   “Is this okay?” he asked.  The question was so quiet considering how close his voice was.  

   It felt wrong to nod and break the contact, so you just uttered a hushed, “yeah.  It’s more than okay actually.”

   How long had you been dancing?  You weren’t sure.  All you knew was eventually the band announced that they’d be taking a break, a well-earned one in your mind.  Everyone at the party applauded, and you and Bucky hesitantly pulled away.

   “Hey, Buck,” a new voice greeted.  “Hey there, _________.”

   “Happy birthday, Steve,” Bucky said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.  “You’re in pretty good shape for being, what, ninety-eight?  What’s your secret?”

   Steve gave a chuckle.  “I already heard that one a few times today.  But thanks, my secret is that I go for a run every day.” 

   “Happy birthday,” you chimed in with a grin, giving him a hug.  “Do you like the party?”

   “Yeah, I really do.  I heard you had something to do with the theme?”

   “Me and Nat both did.”

   That Steve Rogers smile appeared on his face, softening his features even more.  It was the kind of smile that made anyone feel like a million bucks because it was always so genuine.  “Well, thank you.  It was very sweet of you both.”

   “There he is!” Thor called, and the three of you looked over to see him holding up a glass.  “The birthday boy!  Come hither and tell us one of your tales of victory!” 

   Steve hesitated, looking at you and Bucky.  “Ah, guess I’ll be right back, then?”

   “Go see your other guests,” Bucky told him, giving him a nudge.  “We’ll catch up with you later.”  Steve gave one last wave and approached the group, causing them to erupt in cheers.  You and Bucky exchanged looks, laughing.

   “How long do you think they’ll keep him?” Bucky asked.

   “A while, for sure.”  Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Natasha and Bruce conversing casually.  Wanda and Vision walked past, both glancing your way and waving.  They looked so cute together.  With the music gone, all you could hear was quiet chatter and the clinking of glasses and silverware.  It was such a peaceful atmosphere.

   “Want something to eat?”

   You nodded.  “Yeah, I do.”  He stopped a waiter so that the two of you could grab a few appetizers and go find a seat.  You found a few lounge chairs near the window where you could look out at the city lights in the dark.  There was some playful banter, as usual, and some brief talk of superhero work before you settled on a game of truth or dare.  So far, Bucky had dared you to try a new food that you weren’t so sure about, and you had dared him to throw a straw wrapper at Sam just to get his attention.  It was your turn to pick again, and you chose “dare.”

   “I dare you,” Bucky began, narrowing his eyes as he leaned back in the chair in thought.  “I dare you to save me the next dance, and the one after that.”

   Your smile faded at his words while you played with the hem of your dress.  “Hm, okay.”  You paused.  “Truth or dare?”

   “Truth,” he said.

   “Alright, here’s my question: Is there a reason you want all these dances with me?”

   His gaze was fixed on you sincerely as he opened his mouth to reply.  Unfortunately, this happened to be the moment that Steve returned.

   “I’m back,” he announced.  “Sorry about that.”  He halted to observe the way you and Bucky looked at each other so intently.  “Oh, am I interrupting?”

   “Um, no, we were just…”

   “Playing a game.”  Bucky said quickly.  “Truth or dare.”

   Steve nodded.  “Gotcha’.  Hey, was that why you threw straw wrappers at Sam?”

   “It was only one straw wrapper,” Bucky corrected.  “And yes, it was the reason.  If you talk to him again, you should tell him that it was ___________ who put me up to it.  I was just following the rules of the game.”  He feigned innocence with the casual shrug of his shoulders.

   “I bet,” Steve chuckled.

   Just then, you noticed the band heading back to their instruments.  It appeared that their break was over and they were beginning to play again.  Immediately, Bucky looked at you and then his friend.  

   “Speaking of rules of the game,” he said.  “__________ here owes me a dance.  Are you up for it?”

   You smiled, rising from the lounge chair.  “Sure.  It was a dare, after all.”  In reality, you both knew that it was a joke and you didn’t have to comply with the dare if you didn’t want to, but the thing was, you did want to.  You wanted to save all your dances for him.  As he led you to the dance floor again, you didn’t see Natasha walk over to Steve with her arms folded.

   “You think they’re going to get together?” she asked.

   “It’s their business,” Steve pointed out.  “Not our place to get involved”.  Natasha glanced his way with a raised brow, and he sighed in defeat.  “Okay yeah, I think it’s going to happen soon.  Back home, Bucky was never this hesitant when it came to dates.  He’s really taking his time with her. I think it’s because he really cares about her.”

   “That’s sweet, but how do you know he feels that way?”

   “He told me.  We’re best buds, remember?”

   “I thought you and I were best friends,” she deadpanned.  They shared a humorous look as they watched the two of you moving to the rhythm of the jazzy music, big smiles across your faces.  “I just hope it happens soon.”

   “I hear that.”