#I HAVE STRUGGLED TO COMPLETE THIS FOR 4 DAYS

[burningembers91]

Help Wanted - Seong Gi-Hun x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Back Alley Bar

Synopsis: When Seong Gi-Hun sees you struggling, he decides to step in

A/N: this storyline is becoming more angsty than I originally thought it would! A lot of my MC’s are happy go lucky people though, so it’s fun creating someone’s who’s just as flawed as the other characters.

You were late, so incredibly late. Between your full time day job, shifts at the bar, and your online university classes, you were burning the candle at both ends. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had more than 4 hours of sleep, and it was starting to catch up to you. Your shirt was inside out, a problem you’d only realised as you left the subway. You’d have to quickly change it in the bathroom before class, and hope your students and fellow teachers didn’t notice your absence.

You glanced down at your watch: only 6 minutes to make a 10 minute journey. You’d have to run to the school, which meant you’d turn up to work both sweaty and dressed incorrectly. Groaning internally, you picked up the pace, setting out into a steady jog. You hated running, it made you feel like your lungs were about to burst out of your chest. You were so busy mentally timing your journey that you didn’t notice the figure in front of you. Not until you collided full force with them, knocking you and the contents of your bag onto the pavement.

“Oh, fuck!” You hissed, your hands going straight to your throbbing nose. You looked up, ready to curse whoever it was that hadn’t moved out of your way, only to see Seong Gi-Hun standing over you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, bending forward to help you up. You nodded, checking there was no blood before scrambling to pick up your papers that were blowing lazily down the road.

Gi-Hun had always thought you’d been beautiful, but even he had to admit that you looked exhausted beyond measure. There was deep bags under your eyes, toothpaste in the corner of your mouth, and was your shirt inside out?

“Your shirt-“ he began, before you cut him off, your tone harsh.

“Yes,” you snapped, “my shirt is inside out.”You took the remaining papers from his hands, sighing as you rubbed your tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “I’m just really tired and really, really late for work.”

Gi-Hun held his hands up, stepping aside to let you rush past him. “I hope you have a good day!” He called after you, smiling as he watched your incorrectly worn shirt billow in the warm spring breeze.

He hadn’t been to the bar for a few weeks. Your words had really gotten to him, had made him stop and think. Did he really want to spend the rest of his life wallowing in his own pity? Drinking himself to death wouldn’t change what he’d done, nothing would take back the mistakes he’d made, nothing would bring back the people he’d lost. But if he didn’t do something soon, he’d waste away into nothingness. The morning after the conversation in your car, Gi-Hun threw away the bottle of whiskey he usually kept by his bed. He went out and looked for places advertising employment, willing to take on whatever work he could get. He missed seeing you though, missed listening to you talk when you thought he wasn’t listening. He’d never seen you in the daylight before, and you looked even more beautiful than you did in the dimly lit bar. But you looked so tired, so stressed. You’d done so much for Gi-Hun over the last few months; now it was time for him to return the favour.

That night, Gi-Hun returned to the bar. He didn’t drink, though he desperately wanted to. He just sat with you, keeping you company as you had done for him so many times. You looked exhausted, your eyes red rimmed and puffy. You didn’t talk much that night, too tired to form words. But Gi-Hun didn’t mind; he knew better than anyone that sometimes all you needed was a persons presence to stop you from going completely insane.

“Let me drive you home,” he said to you at the end of your shift.

“I’m fine, honestly,” you mumbled, fumbling with the keys as you locked the bar down for the night.

“Please,” he insisted. “It’s not safe for you to drive.”

You looked at him, closing your eyes as they burned with tiredness, before sighing.

“Fine.” Tossing him the keys, you slumped into the passenger side, secretly grateful for the help. If you’d had to drive home, you weren’t sure you’d have made it back in one piece.

You were both silent as the car wound through the city streets, lost in your own thoughts. Gi-Hun helped you upstairs with your bags, ladened down with student essays you needed to mark, and your own uni work that you hadn’t had time to complete. He wasn’t sure if he should stay for a while, to make sure you got in ok.

“Have you eaten?” He asked, desperate to prolong his time with you, even for a brief moment. Your stomach growled loudly in response, and you clutched at it.

“I guess I forgot to,” you mumbled, throwing yourself down on the couch which was littered with yet more paperwork.

“You need to eat,” he said, “let me make you something.” He dug around in the cupboards, finding a couple of packs of instant ramen to make while you got changed out of your work clothes. You returned a few moments later, makeup free and wearing a tiny pair of pyjama shorts. They accentuated the curves of your thighs and hips so perfectly, and Gi-Hun found himself unable to tear his eyes away. You looked so beautiful, but so fragile and broken.

Handing you the bowl of food, he turned to go. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, didn’t want to encroach on you when you clearly needed rest.

“Please don’t go.” Your voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear you. You looked so small sitting on your sofa, the bowl of steaming ramen in your hands. “Please, can you just stay a while?”

You were so lonely at the minute, so utterly drained and exhausted. You just needed some company, needed someone to sit with you. And so Gi-Hun stayed. He sat with you while you ate, neither of you talking, but both of you having so much you wanted to say.

“Why do you do all this?” He asked eventually, looking at the mountains of paperwork all over your tiny living room.

“I made some bad choices when I was younger,” you sighed. “I met someone when I was really young. I thought he was a nice guy; he wasn’t. I took a job as a teacher because it was easy and brought money in. But as soon as I put money in the account, he would spend it.”

Your ex sounded like Gi-Hun, and it filled him with shame.

“Did he gamble?” He asked, wondering just alike the two of them were.

You shook your head. “Drugs and prostitutes, mostly,” you laughed bitterly. “It took me years to get the courage up to leave. And when I finally did I realised I’d wasted my life being with a man I hated, in a job I can’t stand. I thought by going back to university I could make myself better somehow. But I’m just really tired and I have nothing to show for it.”

A single, fat tear dropped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. You talked long into the night, fighting sleep so you could spend more time with the man who had shown you such kindness. When your eyes could no longer stay open, you crashed hard on the sofa, your head slumped on Gi-Hun’s shoulder.

He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare wake you from the sleep you desperately needed. So he stayed there all night, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest. His hand tentatively stroked your back, soothing the troubled mumbles you uttered every now and again.

You’d been there for him when he needed someone, and now he’d be there for you. Life was tough for both of you, but you could help each other. Maybe together you could come out the other side. Maybe together you’d be ok.

[theliteraryarchitect]

Hi, this is a really specific situation, but I'm at a loss. I had an accident that left me with lasting brain issues, and my writing has taken a hit. I went from being able to churn out a 3k word chapter in a day to needing an hour to write 50 words. I have so many ideas but can't express them, and I hate writing as a result. I know practice and just pushing through are going to be the main pieces of advice, but do you have any other suggestions or resources for someone who is having to re-learn how to be a writer?

Hey there! First off, I’m so sorry this response took me so long. Your Ask really stuck with me, and I wanted to give it the thought and care it deserves.

I can’t imagine how frustrating and heartbreaking it must be to go through such a big shift in your writing process. Losing that ease and flow—especially when you have so many ideas—is a huge adjustment. It’s a testament to your creativity and drive that you’re still thinking about how to keep writing despite the challenges.

You’re absolutely right that practice and pushing through are often the go-to advice, but I think it’s equally important to give yourself permission to grieve what’s changed. Writing can feel like such a core part of who we are, and when it’s harder than it used to be, it’s natural to feel a sense of loss.

Here are a few suggestions that might help as you navigate this:

1. Try Different Mediums: If typing feels like slogging through mud, maybe experiment with dictation software or voice-to-text tools. Speaking your ideas aloud could help you capture more words without the same strain.

2. Focus on Smaller Goals: Instead of trying to write full chapters, set tiny, manageable goals—like jotting down a single image or one sentence that excites you. Those little wins can add up and feel more achievable.

3. Explore New Ways of Outlining: If you’re struggling to get the words out, focus on the ideas instead. Create bullet points, mind maps, or even doodles to capture the essence of your story without the pressure of fully fleshed-out prose.

4. Be Kind to Yourself: This is the hardest one, but it’s so important. Writing isn’t just about the final product; it’s about the joy of creating. Even if the words come slower, every step you take is progress.

And don't forget to give yourself a ton of credit! Re-learning how to write in a way that works for you now is an incredible act of resilience. You’re still a writer, and your stories are still worth telling, even if the path looks different.

Hope this helps!

Bucket

/ / / / / / / / / / /

@theliteraryarchitect is a writing advice blog run by me, Bucket Siler, a writer and developmental editor. For more writing help, download my Free Resource Library for Fiction Writers, join my email list, or check out my book The Complete Guide to Self-Editing for Fiction Writers.

[phightingheadcanons]

i compiled a bunch of subspace and medkit headcanons because they plague me. they plague me. they anyways . uhjjmmm subspace headcanons r. im not gonna lie i got some of these from deadplate. but. THERES!! a lot of these. be prepared 1. I don't think he can eat properly. Not only because of the rot, but because not being able to taste things irks him, so he has to make a smoothie out of it 2. I thuuink i think he already. was struggling with an ED before the disaster. and not being able to taste/the rot makes it. way worse 3. I think! I think he has bipolar and audhd. 4. He keeps his hair short on the side of the rot so it doesn't irritate it 5. hes. extremely touchy. not to be affectionate. he's just always in peoples personal space 6. Often chews on his fingernails and/or picks at his skin. bad habit of his methinks 7. i think he listens to like. metal. specifically freak on a leash and rotting in vain by korn really reminds me of him 8. scarring and burns. like. everywhere. coupled with the rot obviously. i think in his line of work he gets injuries pretty easily even when trying to be careful 9. EXTREMELY tone deaf. but also sometimes ignores social cues on purpose because he knows it annoys people 10. hates the rain. he hates the sound of it. he hates the water. it ruins his day. heres medkits ... 1. Also can't eat very well but its mostly from. after the disaster. he completely lost his appetite and also lost a lot of weight just because it was. really hard for him to find the energy to even get up let alone eat 2. generally kind of. not able to take care of himself very well. even if he can take care of others 3. extremely depressed. like. really bad seasonal depression + chronic (it gets worse when he sees snow though. reminds him of blackrock) 4. during his blackrock days he would straighten his hair. he can't afford to do that now though because its too expensive + too much energy 5. god AWFUL doctors handwriting. scythe hates it. nobody can fucking read it except for medkit 6. He has generalized anxiety, depression, and PTSD, as well as autism 7. hates being touched except for in very specific situations. he also hates being close (physically) to people 8. adding onto the last one, he HATES when people touch his back or his shoulders. IMMEDIATE fight or flight response 9. extremely bad posture. shrimp posture. im telling u 10. painted his horns teal because they were originally green. he doesn't like the color green very much. nor does he like that pinkish-red color (reminds him of subspace) 11. (somewhat canon? not the indie part) usually likes classical music. sometimes dabbles in indie music. he's not into the loud shit 12. violin and piano player .... 13. tried to sand down his fangs at one point. why? i dont know! 14. his sarcasm is crazy. if he's not being sarcastic its not him 15. loves the rain. he likes the quiet and being alone but when it's deathly silent it spikes his anxiety. so the background noise is nice. it also means he has an excuse to stay inside AND!! combined headcanons. things i have that i hc for. both of them 1. both of them have hand tremors. subspace's are a little worse though 2. even though they both have separated (and medkit really tries to stay away) they both still have habits that they got used to from being around the other. medkit still makes extra of things by accident because subspace would always steal it. subspace still keeps a blanket in the lab because medkit would always fall asleep at the desk. i could keep going on im so serious. they are so horribly intertwined in the worst way possible and even if they hate each other that red string is still there. its still there. do u get it. in this essay i will- anyways! thats it for today. sorry guys i needed to YAP

"Looking. Respectfully. Peak as always. This fits them so well that I can't even explain. I would yap more, but I'm tired, and my shoulder hurts from a shot I had recently, so another time TwT"

[w1w2]

Skating the Divide

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 - Skating on Thin Ice

Myoui Mina x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 8k

Synopsis: On the ice, every move tells a story. For two skaters with opposing styles, the competition is more than just a test of skill. It’s a clash of worlds.

Notes: I'm not 100% satisfied with the outcome. Maybe I'll rewrite it in the future. LMK your thoughts babes!

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The locker room was silent, the echo of skates against ice still lingering in Mina’s ears as she sat on the bench, her head resting in her hands. Practice had ended hours ago, but Mina hadn’t moved. Her bag sat untouched at her feet, her thoughts tangled in a web she couldn’t escape.

Y/N’s coldness had been unbearable.

It wasn’t just the sharp tone in her voice or the distance in her eyes, it was the complete absence of the warmth that had once made their partnership come alive. The playfulness, the teasing, even the arguments, they were all gone, replaced by a wall that felt impenetrable.

And Mina hated it.

She hated the silence that had replaced their banter, the awkwardness that had crept into their routines. She hated the way Y/N avoided her gaze, her touches on the ice now fleeting and impersonal. But most of all, Mina hated the gnawing ache in her chest every time Y/N skated away without a word.

“What am I doing?” Mina murmured to herself, her voice barely audible in the empty room.

She had thought the frustration she felt was professional, tied to the performance, to the pressure of the competition. But now, with the rink quiet and no one left to distract her, Mina could no longer ignore the truth.

This wasn’t just about skating.

Unable to sit still, Mina rose and made her way back to the rink. It was silent, the faint hum of the overhead lights the only sound as Mina stepped onto the ice. She pushed off slowly, her skates gliding across the smooth surface with a softness that mirrored the quiet ache in her chest.

She didn’t have a plan, no routine to rehearse or move to refine. She just needed to feel the ice beneath her feet, to let the familiar rhythm of skating guide her restless thoughts.

But her thoughts weren’t quiet.

They pulled her back to the beginning, to that first lift they’d managed to get right after days of trial and error. Mina remembered how Y/N had laughed, her face glowing with triumph as she spun away from Mina with her arms raised in victory.

“See? Told you we’d get it!” Y/N had said, her grin so wide it was impossible not to smile back.

Mina had smiled, she realized now, even though she hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time. There had been something infectious about Y/N’s energy, the way she seemed to believe in them even when Mina had doubted it.

She skated a little faster, her movements picking up pace as more memories surfaced. Late-night practices came to mind, the ones where exhaustion hung heavy in the air, but they’d kept going anyway.

She remembered the way Y/N had teased her, her voice light and playful even as Mina struggled to hide her fatigue. “Come on, Myoui. You can’t let me outshine you!”

Mina had rolled her eyes at the time, muttering something about focus and discipline. But now, she could see the warmth behind Y/N’s teasing, the way she had always found a way to lighten the weight of the rink.

Then there was that lift, the one they’d finally perfected after weeks of frustration. Mina had hesitated, her instincts fighting against the trust required to let Y/N guide her. But when it happened. When Y/N had lifted her effortlessly, their movements in perfect sync, it had felt... freeing.

Mina’s breath hitched as she remembered the look Y/N had given her after she landed, their eyes meeting in a moment that felt too big to name.

She trusted me, Mina realized, her chest tightening. And I trusted her.

Her movements slowed again, her skates carving soft curves into the ice as she thought of the present, of Y/N’s coldness, her forced smiles, the way she barely looked at Mina anymore.

The memory of Y/N’s trembling voice cut through her like a blade “I already know what you think of me, Mina.”

Mina closed her eyes, guilt swirling in her chest. How had she let things get so far? She thought of every time she’d kept her distance, every time she’d let her frustration speak instead of her heart.

I didn’t mean it like that, Mina thought desperately, but it didn’t matter. Y/N hadn’t heard what Mina meant, only what Mina had said.

Mina exhaled shakily, her hand brushing against the fabric of her sleeve as if trying to steady herself. She glided to the center of the rink and came to a stop, the soft sound of her skates fading into silence.

The memories swirled in her mind. The laughter, the trust, the way Y/N’s energy had drawn her in even when she didn’t want to admit it.

Why does this hurt so much?

And then, the answer came.

Mina’s chest tightened, her breath catching as the truth settled over her with the weight of a revelation she could no longer deny.

She cared about Y/N.

Not just as a skater. Not just as her partner.

She cared about Y/N, the person who had thrown herself into their routines with fearless passion, who had made Mina laugh when she didn’t think she could, who had made her feel things she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years.

I don’t want her to leave.

The thought hit her with the force of a jump landed off-balance. Mina pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady the wild rhythm of her heart. The ache that had been building for days finally made sense, it wasn’t just the partnership she was afraid of losing.

It was Y/N.

“I care about her,” Mina whispered aloud, her voice trembling as the words settled into the air. Saying it made the feeling real, undeniable.

Her breath hung in the cold air, but she barely noticed. All she could see was the emptiness surrounding her, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside.

Mina exhaled sharply, her breath fogging the air as her gaze swept across the empty rink. She had spent too much time turning the situation over in her head, dissecting her mistakes and replaying every word she’d said or hadn’t said.

But now, those questions no longer mattered.

What mattered was Y/N.

Mina’s fingers tightened at her sides as a surge of clarity broke through the fog of guilt and confusion. She couldn’t afford to linger here, wallowing in her regrets. Every second she spent hesitating was another second Y/N might slip further away, another second the wall between them grew taller and harder to climb.

No more waiting. No more excuses.

A faint tremble ran through her hands, but Mina refused to let it slow her down. She pushed off the ice again, her skates carving clean lines into the surface as she moved with growing purpose. The familiar rhythm of skating steadied her, her movements deliberate and sharp.

Her mind raced as she skated, every thought converging into a single, undeniable truth:

Mina again replayed the moments they’d shared, not just the trust they’d built on the ice, but the laughter, the teasing, the quiet glances that had lingered a little too long. Those moments had meant something. Mina had felt it in every shared smile, every fleeting touch, every time Y/N’s gaze had softened in a way that made Mina’s heart beat faster.

I didn’t just trust her. I let her in.

That realization hit like a jolt, her chest tightening as the weight of her feelings settled into place. Y/N wasn’t just her partner on the ice. She wasn’t just the fearless skater who made every performance feel alive.

Y/N had become someone Mina relied on, someone she admired, someone she cared about more than she had allowed herself to admit.

Mina came to a stop near the edge of the rink, her skates stilling as her thoughts crystallized into resolve. She had spent her whole life chasing perfection, believing that discipline and control were the only paths to success. But Y/N had shown her something different, something wild and unpolished but undeniably beautiful.

Mina had been afraid of that chaos, afraid to let go of the rules that had shaped her. But now, she saw what that fear had cost her. She had pushed Y/N away, whether she’d meant to or not. And in doing so, she had risked losing the one person who had made her feel truly alive on the ice and off.

“I can’t let her go,” Mina murmured, her voice barely audible in the quiet rink.

Her pulse quickened as the thought solidified into a decision. She didn’t know exactly what she would say or how she would fix things, but she couldn’t let this distance between them remain.

For the first time, Mina wasn’t afraid of the vulnerability that came with caring. She wasn’t afraid of being messy, of saying the wrong thing, of letting Y/N see the cracks in her armor.

Because Y/N deserved that honesty. She deserved to know how much Mina respected her, admired her, and Mina’s heart stuttered as the word surfaced, needed her.

With a deep breath, Mina pushed off the ice one last time, skating toward the edge with renewed determination.

She wasn’t going to lose Y/N.

Not to a misunderstanding. Not to fear. It was time to fight for her.

The rink was quieter than usual the next morning, the faint hum of the lights echoing across the empty space. Mina arrived early, her steps measured as she made her way to the ice. Her chest felt heavy, a mixture of anticipation and dread, but her mind was made up.

She had barely slept, her thoughts circling endlessly as she rehearsed what she needed to say. But no matter how many times she played it out in her head, the outcome remained uncertain. Y/N had every reason not to listen, every reason to turn away.

But Mina had to try.

Y/N entered the rink with her usual stride, her face set in a mask of indifference. But Mina knew her too well by now. She could see the tension in Y/N’s shoulders, the stiffness in her movements as she dropped her bag onto the bench and began lacing her skates.

Y/N didn’t glance in Mina’s direction, didn’t offer the usual quip or half-smile that had once brightened their mornings. The silence between them felt heavier than the cold air of the rink, and Mina’s heart sank.

She couldn’t let this go on. Not anymore.

Mina swallowed hard, skating toward Y/N with a nervous energy she wasn’t used to. She was Mina Myoui, poised, confident, and disciplined. But now, her chest felt tight, her hands clammy, and her heart beat like a drum as she drew closer.

“Y/N,” she said softly, her voice catching slightly.

Y/N paused, her hands freezing mid-lace. She didn’t look up. “What?”

The single word was clipped, defensive. It stung more than Mina had expected, but she pressed on, her determination outweighing her fear. “I need to talk to you,” she said, her tone quieter now, almost pleading.

Y/N scoffed lightly, finishing her laces and rising to her feet. “Don’t,” she said briskly, stepping onto the ice. “Whatever it is, just don’t.”

But Mina wasn’t about to let her skate away. Not this time.

Mina cut across the ice, her skates slicing clean lines as she moved to block Y/N’s path. Her chest felt tight, her palms sweaty despite the cold air. She had rehearsed this moment in her head a hundred times, but now that it was here, all the carefully crafted words she’d planned slipped away.

“Please,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Just listen to me.”

Y/N stopped, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she regarded Mina with an expression that was both wary and tired. “What is there to say, Mina?” she asked, her voice brittle. “You’ve already made it clear how you feel about me.”

“That’s not true,” Mina said quickly, her heart sinking at the resignation in Y/N’s tone.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp and challenging. “Oh, it’s not? Because what I heard—”

“You didn’t hear everything,” Mina interrupted, her voice firmer now. She took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. “You only heard part of what I said. And I need you to hear the rest.”

For a moment, Y/N hesitated, her posture softening almost imperceptibly. But then she shook her head, the walls she’d built so carefully sliding back into place. “What could you possibly say to make this better?”

Y/N’s heart was pounding as she stared at Mina, trying to keep her voice steady. She didn’t want to hear excuses. She didn’t want to hear an apology that wouldn’t change anything.

She didn’t want to admit how much she wanted to believe Mina, how much she wanted to hear something, anything that would make the ache in her chest go away.

But the memory of Mina’s words still stung, the echo of impossible to work with playing on repeat in her mind.

Mina stepped closer, her dark eyes meeting Y/N’s with an intensity that made Y/N’s breath catch. “I said you’re fearless,” Mina began, her voice trembling but steady enough to carry her meaning. “I said your energy is rare. That it’s what makes you... exceptional.”

Y/N blinked, her resolve faltering for a brief moment. But she quickly shook her head, her arms tightening around herself like armor. “You’re just saying that now because you feel guilty.”

“No,” Mina replied, her voice rising with emotion. “I’m saying it because it’s the truth.” She took another step forward, the proximity making Y/N’s chest tighten. “You’ve shown me things I never thought I’d see in myself. You’ve made me better, not just as a skater, but as a person.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, the raw sincerity in Mina’s voice cutting through her defenses.

Mina’s heart raced as she saw the flicker of uncertainty in Y/N’s eyes. For a moment, she thought she might have gotten through to her.

But then Y/N stepped back, her expression closing off again. “It’s too late, Mina,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t get to say these things now.”

The words hit Mina like a punch to the chest. Her shoulders slumped, but she refused to give up. “It’s not too late,” she said softly, her voice shaking with desperation. “Not if you let me show you how much I care, how much I’ve always cared.”

But Y/N shook her head, her voice breaking as she muttered, “I can’t do this right now.” She skated away, her figure retreating into the dim light of the rink, leaving Mina standing alone.

Mina stayed rooted in place, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing. The rejection stung, but more than that, it terrified her.

She had put her heart on the line, stripped herself bare in a way she had never done before. And Y/N had walked away.

But Mina wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

As she turned to watch Y/N’s distant figure, a wave of determination washed over her. She would fight for Y/N, even if it meant breaking down every wall between them brick by brick.

Because for the first time in her life, Mina wasn’t afraid to risk everything for someone she cared about.

Later, during practice the rink buzzed with activity, the sharp sound of blades cutting into the ice mingling with the low hum of conversation. Skaters clustered near the boards, some going over their routines, others chatting idly as the morning practice unfolded.

Mina stood off to the side, her gaze flickering toward Y/N, who was stretching alone in a corner of the rink. Her posture was stiff, her focus uncharacteristically muted as she went through her warm-up. Mina’s heart ached at the sight.

She wanted to approach Y/N, to try again, but she couldn’t bring herself to make the first move just yet. The memory of Y/N skating away from her earlier replayed in her mind, each moment sharpening her resolve but making her feel painfully aware of how fragile their connection had become.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the low, cutting voices of two nearby skaters.

“She’s not ready for this level,” one of them murmured, their voice laced with disdain. “I don’t know why they thought pairing her with Mina was a good idea.”

“Right?” the other replied, their tone dripping with false sympathy. “Mina could’ve had a real shot with someone polished. Y/N’s just... dragging her down.”

Mina’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. A rush of anger surged through her, so sudden and hot it caught her off guard.

She turned sharply, her skates slicing cleanly across the ice as she closed the distance between herself and the two skaters.

“Excuse me,” Mina said, her voice cutting through the low hum of the rink like a blade.

The two skaters froze mid-conversation, their heads snapping in her direction. Mina’s tone wasn’t raised, but there was a cold sharpness to it that made the pair visibly stiffen.

“M-Mina,” one of them stammered, their surprise evident as they shifted uncomfortably.

But Mina wasn’t about to let them off the hook. She skated forward with deliberate precision, the sound of her blades against the ice echoing like a warning. Her dark eyes locked onto theirs, unwavering.

“If you have something to say about my partner,” she began, her voice calm but deadly serious, “then say it to me.”

The taller of the two skaters, a wiry girl with sleek, platinum blonde hair, raised her hands defensively, her mouth opening as if to explain. But Mina didn’t stop.

“Because if you’re going to insult someone,” Mina continued, her voice tightening, “at least have the guts to say it where they can defend themselves.”

The shorter skater, a boy with an almost perpetually smug expression, muttered something under his breath. Mina turned her attention to him immediately, her gaze sharp enough to make him flinch.

“What was that?” she asked coolly, one eyebrow raising in challenge.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, his bravado faltering.

“Nothing?” Mina repeated, her tone icy. She tilted her head slightly, her expression calm but unyielding. “Because it sounded an awful lot like you were questioning whether Y/N deserves to be here.”

The blonde skater shifted uncomfortably, shooting her partner a nervous glance. “We weren’t trying to—”

“You weren’t trying to what?” Mina interrupted, her voice rising slightly as her frustration spilled over. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and she took a slow breath to steady herself before continuing.

“She’s dragging Mina down.” The words replayed in her mind, and the anger she’d tried to suppress bubbled to the surface. Mina had spent too many nights replaying her own mistakes, too many moments regretting her part in Y/N’s pain. Hearing others echo those same sentiments felt like salt in a wound.

She stepped closer, her movements deliberate, her skates slicing clean lines into the ice as she approached the pair. They both recoiled slightly under her piercing gaze.

“Y/N is one of the most talented skaters I’ve ever met,” Mina said, her voice firm and steady now, the anger fueling her conviction. “She’s fearless, creative, and brings a kind of energy to the ice that you couldn’t even hope to match.”

The taller skater opened her mouth to speak, but Mina raised a hand, silencing her.

“Do you know what it’s like to trust someone enough to put your success, your entire career, in their hands?” Mina asked, her voice softening but carrying an unmistakable edge. “I do. And I trust Y/N with that every single day.”

The shorter skater had the good sense to look ashamed, his gaze dropping to the ice.

Mina exhaled sharply, her frustration ebbing slightly as she straightened her posture. “So, if you have something to say about Y/N,” she continued, her tone firm but quieter now, “maybe ask yourself if you could even begin to match her courage. Because I doubt it.”

The pair muttered apologies under their breath, skating away quickly before Mina could say anything further.

As the two skaters disappeared across the rink, Mina stood still for a moment, her chest heaving as she tried to collect herself. The adrenaline coursing through her veins left her hands trembling slightly, but her resolve was unshaken.

Mina exhaled sharply, the adrenaline from the confrontation fading as she turned back toward the rink. She caught sight of Y/N, who had stopped mid-stretch, her hands resting on her knees as she stared at Mina.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to quiet.

Y/N’s expression was a mixture of shock and something else, something softer, more vulnerable. Mina felt her chest tighten as she held Y/N’s gaze, silently willing her to understand.

Mina skated toward her slowly, her movements deliberate as the distance between them closed. Her heart pounded, but she kept her voice steady as she said, “You are exceptional.”

Y/N blinked, her lips parting slightly as if to respond, but no words came.

Mina stepped closer, her gaze never leaving Y/N’s. “And I won’t let anyone, including myself, make you feel otherwise again.”

The vulnerability in her voice hung in the air, and for a long moment, Y/N just looked at her, her guarded expression softening ever so slightly.

“Why would you do that?” Y/N finally asked, her voice quiet but unsteady.

“Because it’s the truth,” Mina replied without hesitation. She hesitated briefly, her next words catching in her throat. “And because I care about you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her defenses faltering as the words sank in.

For the first time in days, Mina saw the faintest flicker of trust return to Y/N’s eyes. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Mina’s heart lift, hope rising cautiously in her chest.

The tension lingered in the air even after practice ended, the echoes of skates on ice fading into silence. Y/N sat on the bench near the lockers, her head bowed as she untied her skates. She couldn’t stop thinking about what she had seen and heard, Mina standing up for her, speaking with such unwavering conviction.

The memory of Mina’s voice replayed in her mind: “She’s fearless, creative, and brings a kind of energy to the ice that you couldn’t even hope to match.”

Y/N’s chest tightened. Mina hadn’t just defended her, she had believed in her, maybe more than Y/N believed in herself.

For so long, Y/N had felt like an outsider in Mina’s world, trying to prove she belonged. And now Mina’s words had turned everything she thought she knew upside down.

Y/N exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand over her face as her emotions swirled.

Mina stood just outside the doorway, her back resting against the wall. She hadn’t left the rink yet, waiting for the moment she could approach Y/N without an audience. She knew what she needed to say, but the knot of nerves in her stomach didn’t make it any easier.

Gathering her courage, Mina stepped inside. The faint sound of her footsteps made Y/N glance up, their eyes meeting across the room.

Mina hesitated for a fraction of a second, then walked closer, her movements deliberate. She stopped a few feet away, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

“Y/N,” she began softly, her voice steady but tinged with vulnerability, “can we talk?”

Y/N hesitated, her gaze flickering with uncertainty. Then she gave a small nod, shifting slightly to face Mina.

Mina exhaled deeply, trying to steady the racing of her heart. Standing in front of Y/N now, with her guarded expression and tense shoulders, made the weight of her mistakes feel all the more tangible.

“When I said those things to Momo,” Mina began softly, her voice trembling at the edges, “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t choose my words carefully, and I hate that you had to hear them.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, her gaze dropping to the floor, but she didn’t interrupt.

“I was frustrated,” Mina continued, her hands clasping tightly in front of her as if she could hold herself together. “Not with you, but with how hard it was for me to adjust to... to us. You’re so different from me, your style, your approach, your energy. It threw me off, and instead of admitting that I was struggling, I took it out. I said things out of frustration, things I didn’t mean.”

She hesitated, her throat tightening as she replayed the moment in her mind. “But what you heard, it wasn’t the full story. I didn’t just say you were undisciplined or unpredictable. I also said you were fearless. That you have this energy that’s so rare, it’s impossible not to admire.”

Y/N blinked, her eyes flicking up to meet Mina’s for a fleeting second before darting away again.

Mina stepped closer, her skates gliding softly over the floor. “You’ve changed the way I see skating, Y/N. You’ve made me realize that it’s not just about precision or control. It’s about... feeling. Expression. About trusting someone enough to let them guide you, even when it feels like stepping into chaos.”

Her voice softened, cracking slightly with emotion. “And you made me trust you in a way I didn’t think I could trust anyone.”

Mina paused, her breath trembling as she prepared for the next part. This was the hardest thing to say, but she couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“I’ve spent so much of my life trying to be perfect,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Trying to be the person everyone expects me to be. But with you... I didn’t have to be perfect. You didn’t ask that of me. And for the first time, I felt like I could let go of all of that and just... skate.”

Her eyes met Y/N’s again, and this time she didn’t look away. “You taught me that. You showed me something I didn’t even know I needed. And I hate that my own fear, my inability to say these things before, made you think you weren’t enough. Because you are, Y/N. You’re more than enough.”

Y/N’s breath hitched audibly, her chest rising and falling as she processed Mina’s words.

Mina swallowed hard, her hands clenching briefly before she forced them to relax. “I can’t take back what I said, or how it hurt you. But I can tell you this: I meant it when I said you’re exceptional. And I’m so sorry that I made you doubt that, even for a second.”

Y/N was still silent, her expression unreadable. The pause stretched, long enough for doubt to creep into Mina’s mind.

Did I say enough? Does she even believe me?

Mina’s throat felt tight, her chest aching with the weight of everything she still hadn’t said. But she knew this wasn’t just about the apology, it was about being honest in a way she never had been before.

“And it’s not just about the skating,” Mina added, her voice soft but steady. “I care about you. I’ve cared about you for a long time, even when I didn’t know how to show it.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of emotion breaking through her guarded expression.

Mina’s pulse raced, her heart pounding as she took another step closer. “You’ve made me better, Y/N. And I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you.”

Y/N’s chest tightened as Mina’s words washed over her. She had been bracing herself for excuses, for a rehearsed apology that would feel hollow, but this.. This was something else entirely.

Mina’s voice trembled with emotion, her carefully composed exterior cracking in a way Y/N had never seen before. The sincerity in her words felt like a direct hit to Y/N’s defenses, each sentence chipping away at the walls she’d built to protect herself.

Y/N shifted in her seat, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her sweatshirt as she tried to process what Mina was saying. The words “fearless,” “exceptional,” “I care about you” echoed in her mind, looping endlessly.

She bit her lip, willing herself to keep her composure. But the ache in her chest was impossible to ignore—the ache of wanting to believe Mina but being too afraid to let herself.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” Y/N finally admitted, her voice unsteady. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her fingers curling tightly around the fabric in her lap. “You really hurt me, Mina. When I heard you say those things, it felt like everything I’d been afraid of was true.”

Mina’s breath hitched, but she didn’t interrupt.

“I’ve spent so much time feeling like I didn’t belong here,” Y/N continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “Like I wasn’t good enough, like I didn’t fit into this world with all these polished skaters who’ve had everything handed to them. And you… You were everything I thought I could never be. Perfect. Untouchable.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her throat tightening. “When I heard you say I was impossible to work with, it just... broke something in me. Because if you, of all people, thought I didn’t belong, then maybe I didn’t.”

Mina’s face twisted with regret, her lips parting to respond, but Y/N raised a hand to stop her.

“But,” Y/N said, her voice softening, “when I saw you defend me today, when I heard the things you said... it made me realize something.” She paused, her gaze lifting to meet Mina’s. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“I realized that I’ve been wrong about you too,” she said. “I thought you saw me as just a wildcard, a problem to solve. But maybe... maybe you see me for who I really am.”

Her voice wavered as she continued. “You said I made you better, but the truth is, you’ve done the same for me. You’ve pushed me in ways I didn’t think I could handle, made me want to prove to myself that I deserve to be here, not just because of my talent, but because I can skate with someone like you.”

She blinked rapidly, brushing a hand over her face to wipe away the tears threatening to fall. “And it’s not just about skating,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’ve been so scared of letting you in because I didn’t want to get hurt. But the truth is, I care about you too. More than I’ve let myself admit.”

Mina’s breath caught, her eyes widening as Y/N’s words sank in.

For a moment, the weight of everything unspoken hung heavy between them. Then Y/N let out a shaky laugh, the sound a mixture of relief and disbelief. “You really know how to throw me off, Myoui.”

Mina’s lips quirked into the faintest smile, her expression softening as a glimmer of hope returned to her eyes.

Mina stepped closer, her heart pounding as she extended her hand. Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed her vulnerability. “Partners?” she asked, the word heavy with meaning.

Y/N stared at the outstretched hand, her chest tightening as emotions warred within her. The guarded part of her whispered to hold back, to protect herself. But the look in Mina’s eyes, the mix of hope, regret, and determination, made it impossible to stay distant.

She let out a slow breath, then reached out and slid her hand into Mina’s. Their fingers brushed lightly before settling into a firm grip.

“Partners,” Y/N said firmly, her voice carrying a quiet strength.

The moment stretched between them, the tension finally giving way to something softer, something unspoken but deeply understood.

Mina’s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, and Y/N felt warmth spread through her chest, melting away the lingering doubt.

For the first time in weeks, the space between them didn’t feel like a chasm. It felt like the beginning of something new.

The roar of the crowd filled the arena, a cacophony of cheers and applause that reverberated through the air. The bright lights illuminated the pristine ice, casting a radiant glow that made it shimmer like glass.

Y/N stood at the edge of the rink, her skates gliding gently over the ice as she took a deep breath. Beside her, Mina adjusted her gloves, her movements steady and precise. When their eyes met, a calm but electric understanding passed between them.

This was their moment.

“Ready?” Mina asked softly, her voice carrying just enough to reach Y/N over the noise of the crowd.

Y/N gave her a small, confident smile. “With you? Always.”

Mina’s lips quirked into a faint smile of her own, the tension in her shoulders easing ever so slightly. They didn’t need to say more, every word, every feeling, had already been exchanged in the quiet hours of practice, in the moments where they had learned to trust each other again.

Together, they skated toward the center of the rink, the noise of the crowd fading into a dull hum. All that mattered now was the routine, the music, and the bond that tethered them together.

The first haunting notes of their music drifted through the arena, silencing the hum of the crowd. Y/N and Mina stood motionless at the center of the rink, their backs barely touching as they faced opposite directions. It was a deliberate choice, symbolizing the distance they had overcome.

Y/N’s hands clenched at her sides for just a moment before she let the tension dissolve, the rhythm of the music grounding her. Beside her, Mina took a slow, deep breath, her sharp gaze fixed ahead.

The routine began with a subtle movement, their steps soft yet purposeful as they moved in parallel lines, mirroring each other without ever meeting. Blades whispered against the ice, each stroke precise, their bodies angled with an understated elegance that belied the emotional storm they were building toward.

As the music swelled, their movements grew bolder. Mina spun gracefully, her arms sweeping through the air like ribbons as Y/N circled her, their paths weaving a delicate interplay of light and shadow. The energy between them crackled, a dance of opposites finding their rhythm.

Y/N launched into the first jump of the routine, her movements powerful and commanding. She twisted in midair with a speed and confidence that drew gasps from the crowd, landing with a force that felt almost defiant.

Mina followed with a spin that radiated pure elegance, her body extended in a perfect line. She moved with the kind of control that came from years of discipline, her every turn balanced and deliberate.

The audience was captivated. There was no hesitation, no doubt, just two skaters moving as one, their differences harmonizing like the contrasting notes of the music.

Their first connection came in a sweeping glide, their hands brushing briefly as they passed each other. It was fleeting but electric, a spark of what was to come.

The ice glistened like glass as Y/N and Mina approached the lift. The music shifted, rising into a crescendo that carried with it the weight of everything they had built, the trust, the struggles, the bond that had been tested and reforged.

Y/N skated a short arc, her legs bending slightly as she braced for the moment. Mina glided toward her with a confidence that seemed almost ethereal, her arms raised in preparation. Their eyes met for the briefest second, a silent exchange of trust and reassurance.

Y/N’s hands found Mina’s waist with practiced ease, her grip steady but gentle. Mina felt the strength behind it, the unwavering foundation that had grown between them. She pushed off the ice with perfect timing, her body lifting effortlessly as Y/N guided her upward.

Mina’s arms extended gracefully, her fingertips reaching toward the lights above. Her body stretched into a perfect line, every movement deliberate yet free, a display of strength and elegance in perfect harmony.

The audience collectively held their breath as Y/N carried her through the air, their movements fluid and synchronized. Y/N’s legs flexed powerfully, her core stabilizing the lift with a precision that made it look effortless.

For a moment, it was as if Mina was suspended in time, her figure weightless against the backdrop of the arena. The spotlights reflected off the frost kicked up by their skates, creating a shimmering halo around them.

Mina began her descent, her movements controlled and deliberate as Y/N guided her safely back to the ice. Blades touched down simultaneously, the sound of the landing crisp and assured.

The audience erupted into applause, but neither Y/N nor Mina acknowledged it. For that moment, there was only the two of them, their breaths syncing as they shared a fleeting glance.

Mina’s lips curved into the faintest smile, a rare expression that was meant only for Y/N.

Y/N responded with a wink, her grin bright and infectious. “Nailed it,” she whispered, just loud enough for Mina to hear.

Mina shook her head slightly, a quiet laugh escaping her as they moved seamlessly into the next sequence. But deep down, she couldn’t deny it. They had nailed it.

The rhythm of the music quickened, its intensity building like a rising tide. Y/N and Mina mirrored the shift in energy, their movements growing faster, sharper, and more intricate. Every glide, every spin felt charged with emotion, their bond radiating through every motion.

Y/N launched into a double axel, her body twisting effortlessly through the air before landing with a powerful flourish. Her blade cut into the ice with confidence, leaving a clean, deliberate mark that seemed to resonate across the rink.

Mina followed with a sequence of flawless footwork, her feet moving so quickly and precisely that it was mesmerizing to watch. Her movements were crisp yet fluid, her arms extending like delicate brushstrokes across a canvas. The audience erupted into cheers, but Mina didn’t break focus. Not yet.

They came together for a series of synchronized spins, their bodies flowing in perfect unison. Y/N added a daring flourish, extending one arm high and breaking formation for a split second before returning to their shared axis. Mina responded instantly, adapting with a smooth grace that turned Y/N’s improvisation into a seamless part of the choreography.

The tension between the sharp, daring edge of Y/N’s style and Mina’s poised, polished movements created a breathtaking contrast. Their differences, once a source of frustration and conflict, now blended into a performance that was raw and magnetic, impossible to look away from.

The audience was on the edge of their seats as the music swelled toward its climax. The skaters broke apart, each moving to opposite ends of the rink as the choreography called for their final, individual displays of skill.

Y/N pushed herself harder than ever, landing a triple toe loop with a flourish that sent frost spraying into the air. Her powerful energy was contagious, drawing audible gasps and cheers from the crowd.

At the opposite end of the rink, Mina executed a series of complex spins, her form so precise it seemed almost unreal. Her movements were as delicate as lace, her control so complete it felt as though she were floating above the ice rather than carving through it.

The music reached its peak, and the two skaters surged toward each other across the ice. They met at the center in a perfect arc, their hands locking as they launched into a final act.

The last haunting notes of the music echoed through the arena, and Y/N caught Mina’s hand, guiding her into the final pose with practiced precision. Mina’s body dipped low, her skates gliding effortlessly as she leaned backward, her arms extended in a dramatic flourish. Y/N’s grip on her was firm and steady, a grounding force that kept Mina balanced despite the precarious position.

The spotlight followed them, casting long shadows across the ice as they held the pose. Mina’s back was arched, her face tilted upward toward the lights, her expression open and vulnerable. Y/N crouched slightly to support her, her free arm extended as though offering Mina to the crowd.

It was a moment of pure synchronicity, grace and strength perfectly combined. The ice beneath them seemed to shimmer, reflecting the intensity of the moment.

The music faded into silence, leaving only the sound of their synchronized breathing and the faint hum of the arena. For a single heartbeat, there was nothing but stillness.

Mina slowly straightened, Y/N steadying her as they rose together. Their hands remained intertwined, neither willing to let go.

The applause was thunderous, waves of cheers echoing across the arena, but it was the silence among the judges that held the moment’s weight. Seated in their elevated booth, the panel of judges exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of awe and intrigue as they began jotting down notes on their scorecards.

“That,” The head judge said, pausing for effect, “was a performance for the books.”

One of the other judges nodded, his pen still poised mid-air as if reluctant to stop writing. “The technical execution was nearly flawless. Their lifts were clean, their transitions seamless.”

“But it wasn’t just technical,” another judge added, her tone thoughtful. “It was emotional. You could feel the connection between them. The narrative they told, it was like watching a story unfold on the ice.”

The head judge gestured toward her notes. “That final lift? Bold. A risky choice, but perfectly executed. And the way they incorporated Y/N’s improvisational flair into Mina’s precision, it felt fresh. Innovative.”

“They’ve taken an unconventional pairing and turned it into something unforgettable,” said another judge, a smile tugging at his lips. “They weren’t just skating, they were creating art.”

The head judge leaned back in her chair, her eyes fixed on the pair still holding their final pose at the center of the rink. “Scores won’t be enough to capture what they just gave us. But I think we can all agree, they’ve set a new standard for doubles skating.”

The audience continued to cheer as the scores began flashing across the screen above the rink. Gasps rippled through the crowd as the numbers appeared.

“9.9.” “9.8.” “9.9.”

A near-perfect score.

The announcer’s voice boomed through the arena. “Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N and Mina Myoui have just earned the highest score of the competition so far!”

Mina turned to face Y/N, her lips curving into a soft, genuine smile.

“You’re incredible,” Mina whispered, her voice barely audible over the roar of the audience.

Y/N grinned, her eyes sparkling with both triumph and emotion. “Right back at you, Myoui.”

They skated toward the edge of the rink, their hands still clasped, their movements slow and deliberate as they soaked in the applause. Y/N gave Mina’s hand a small squeeze, and Mina responded with a light, reassuring press of her fingers.

When they reached the edge, Y/N raised their joined hands high, her free arm waving toward the crowd in a playful flourish. Mina followed suit, her smile widening.

The cheers of the crowd echoed in Y/N’s ears as she and Mina left the ice, their skates slicing one last set of clean lines into the rink before stepping off. The applause felt surreal, a living pulse that seemed to follow them even as they moved into the quieter space of the skaters’ corridor.

Y/N exhaled sharply, her chest heaving as the adrenaline began to fade. She tugged at her gloves absentmindedly, glancing sideways at Mina. Beside her, Mina’s usually composed features were softened, her lips curved into a rare and genuine smile.

“They loved us,” Y/N said breathlessly, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Mina turned to her, her smile widening. “They didn’t just love us,” she replied softly. “We earned that.”

Y/N’s grin spread across her face, bright and infectious. “Damn right we did.”

They reached the locker room, the muffled sound of the crowd still audible beyond the walls. Y/N dropped onto a bench, running a hand through her hair. “That score...” she murmured, shaking her head. “I never thought—”

“Believe it,” Mina interrupted, sitting down beside her. She rested her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped together. “You deserved every point.”

Y/N looked at her, the warmth of Mina’s words sinking in. For once, there was no teasing comeback, no playful retort, just a quiet, unspoken gratitude.

The crisp night air wrapped around them as they stepped out of the arena, their breath forming small clouds in the cold. The streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement, but neither Y/N nor Mina seemed to notice. They walked in silence, their medals clinking faintly with each step, the weight of their shared victory settling into something more profound.

Y/N kept her eyes forward, her fingers gripping the strap of her skate bag tightly. Her mind raced with everything she wanted to say but didn’t know how to put into words. Mina, walking just slightly ahead, slowed her steps until they were side by side.

The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it carried an unspoken tension that neither could ignore. Finally, Y/N broke the silence.

“You know,” she began, her voice softer than usual, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like that before.”

Mina turned her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “What do you mean?”

“Out there,” Y/N said, gesturing vaguely toward the arena behind them. “The way we skated. It wasn’t just... us performing. It felt like—” She hesitated, struggling to find the words. “Like it mattered. Like it was bigger than us.”

Mina stopped walking, her gaze fixed on Y/N. “It did matter,” she said quietly. “To me, it mattered more than anything.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the intensity in Mina’s voice.

Mina hesitated, her hands curling into fists before relaxing at her sides. She took a steadying breath and stepped closer. “I used to think skating was just about control,” she began, her voice soft but resolute. “About being perfect. About winning. But tonight…” Her dark eyes met Y/N’s, shimmering with emotion. “Tonight, it was about something much bigger.”

Y/N’s heart pounded, her chest tightening as she waited for Mina to continue.

“It was about you. About us,” Mina said, her voice trembling slightly. “About letting myself feel things I never thought I could. You’ve shown me a different way to see everything, not just skating, but myself.”

Mina paused, her breath hitching, and her expression softened. “Y/N,” she said quietly, her voice raw with vulnerability, “I’m in love with you.”

Y/N’s breath caught, her eyes wide as the words hung between them, heavy and undeniable.

Mina pressed on, her voice trembling but steadying with each word. “You’ve changed everything for me. You’ve made me believe in something more than just being perfect. You’ve made me believe in us. And it terrifies me, because I never thought I could feel this way about anyone.”

Tears stung Y/N’s eyes as she stepped closer, her heart racing. “Mina…” she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion.

Mina’s lips quirked into a hesitant smile. “I know I don’t always get it right. But I want you to know this, you’ve made me want to be better. Not perfect. Just better.”

Y/N felt a wave of emotion swell in her chest as she reached out, her fingers brushing against Mina’s. “Mina,” she said, her voice trembling, “you don’t have to be perfect. You never did. Not with me.”

A tear slipped down Mina’s cheek as she let out a soft, relieved laugh. Y/N stepped closer, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “And for the record,” Y/N added with a small, shaky smile, “I’m in love with you too.”

Mina’s breath hitched, her eyes wide with wonder. Slowly, she brought her forehead to rest against Y/N’s, the world around them fading into the background.

“So,” Y/N said softly, her voice turning playful despite the emotion thick in the air, “do I finally get to kiss the ice queen, or is that against the rules?”

Mina let out a startled laugh, a blush rising in her cheeks. Without a word, she leaned in, her lips meeting Y/N’s in a kiss that was soft and tentative at first, but quickly deepened with all the unspoken feelings they could no longer deny.

When they pulled apart, Y/N grinned, her breath mingling with Mina’s. “Best day ever,” she teased.

Mina chuckled, her fingers intertwining with Y/N’s. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” Y/N said, her voice brimming with warmth.

Mina smiled, her dark eyes sparkling as she whispered, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They continued walking, their hands still intertwined, a silent promise shared between them as the quiet city streets stretched before them. The distant sound of traffic hummed faintly in the background, but for Y/N and Mina, the world felt smaller, just the two of them, stepping into something new.

As they reached a quiet park, Y/N stopped, turning to Mina with a look of determination in her eyes. “You know,” she said, “we’re not just partners on the ice anymore. We’re partners in everything. Right?”

Mina’s expression softened, her smile small but genuine. “Right.”

Y/N grinned, her usual playful spark returning. “Good, because I’m not letting you go. You’re stuck with me, Myoui. Glitter, chaos, and all.”

Mina laughed softly, her voice light and free in a way Y/N hadn’t heard before. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep you grounded,” she replied, her tone teasing but affectionate.

They stood there for a moment, the weight of everything they had been through lifting as the future stretched ahead of them.

“I think,” Mina said after a pause, her voice thoughtful, “we’ve found something better than perfect.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Yeah?”

Mina nodded, her gaze steady. “Yeah.”

With that, they began walking again, their steps in perfect sync. They had conquered the ice, but more importantly, they had found each other, partners in skating, in life, and in every unpredictable, breathtaking moment yet to come.

[beemochi-art]

Fandom hot take?

Oh I’ve got a couple

1) Not a big fan of cygate. It just feels kind of weird.

2) I’ve ranted about this before but The treatment of Nightshade is unacceptable. And I’m not talking about the standard homophones, no one cares about what they think, haters gonna hate and all that. No, what I’m more concerned about how they are treated amongst the fandom. For some basket case reason we’ll have these people crying from the rooftops about protecting trans kids but when an individual comes along who represents trans kids, oop! Time to make porn! I never understood that, what makes people see a non binary kid and suddenly it’s and excuse to sexualize. Like if it’s a pass. Why! It usually Just Nightshade. It’s honestly made me uncomfortable to post them. I’ve drawn a bunch of Nightshade stuff, a bunch of goofy comics that probably won’t see the light of day. I’ve already had some idiot on here try to share their perversion to a completely innocent comic. It makes me so angry, if anything would make me gtfo off this page it’s that.

3) There are a lot of problems with Oplita fans. I’m a fan of the ship, I LOVE the ship. But I think the way most people ship them it also takes away a lot from elita. It seems like her existence is just to compliment Optimus. Many Oplita fans can’t describe Elita without saying mommy, girl boss or pegging. Maybe not that last one but still. I enjoy seeing Elita just on her own sometimes, skybound, earthspark and tf one some examples (idw as well but I don’t like her too much, she kinda eh. Honestly I’m not a big fan of angry boss lady but to each their own.) I think when people approach this ship they should try to ask themselves about her hopes, fears and motivations. If all you can describe her as “mother is mothering” I don’t think that’s good. I like mom Elita! I really do, but the thing you’ve got to remember about moms is that they were a person before they had kids. Elita is such a cool and interesting character and shouldn’t be treated as just Optimus girl boss accessory.

4) I’m of a clear enough mind to recognize that JazzProwl fans are insane and that’s ok. Cause Prowl and Jazz don’t really have any meaningful interaction in most continuings, except in tfa. But if we were all sane we’d ship tfa prowl and jazz. Not everyone will like the ship on the basis of they look good together and that’s fine. That kinda of why Forte-verse is just kind of silly. It ain’t that deep.

5) Tf one Megatron was wrong. His feels were valid all the way until he dropped Optimus. I think the villain worshiped is a bit unsettling, don’t get me wrong, I LOVE Megatron. But I think only focusing on him and his crash out takes away from the message Optimus gives. Optimus was incompetent and a bad friend but that didn’t warrant death. I think a lot of times Orion was just so shocked by what his friend was saying that he struggled to say the right things D16 needed to hear. Orion was soo close to getting through to Dee, but then he, as Dee’s best friend compared him to Sentinel. That was a major trigger for Dee.

On another note, I think it’s interesting the reactions to Sentinel’s betrayal. I noticed Megatron uses a lot of language that is related to religion, “no more false prophets.” “Have faith in Sentinel Prime.” this was his everything. For Orion it may not have ever been that deep. For Dee his faith, body and sanity all rise of what he believes in, if he could serve the primes by being a slave it was all worth it. Unfortunately Sentinel is just like those mega church pastors.

6) I think the existence of femmas are cool and important. I think gender dynamics and social structure can have a part to play in Transformers even if it’s an uncomfortable subject, but they’re existence shouldn’t be a we are all the same gimmick, if you look to our real world the dynamic between the two sex’s and the social structures are different and sometimes not equal. I’m not saying that’s how it’s meant to be but I think it’s a topic that can be explored without shame. And as much as I think that, femmas in series also outline the nature of the writers as well even if it’s negative, the fan project Galvatrons Revenge being a good example.

7) I was looking at the story boards of the first story for Tf one. I think those were fun and all but I prefer the product that we got. A lot of people are saying that we were robbed but I don’t think that’s the case. That Megatron was evil, and his actions of shooting Orion didn’t feel as heart reaching as it does in the og. Tf One Megatron was emotional and vulnerable, I think he connected with the audience much better, his raw emotions is what makes a good megatron. And the storyboards just didn’t have that. It wasn’t nearly as emotionally impactful, I’m shock people said they would have preferred that over the Original. I don’t think I would have liked it nearly as much if so.

Not to say that they’re weren’t very sweet lines in the ere that I liked very much. I liked hearing about Dee’s motivations and dreams. And how he had a home with Orion. I liked how Dee looked to Elita and Bee when Orion was making him choose. There are parts that I thought were very sweet. And if the movie was that I still would have liked it just not as much.

Ok I’m done

I hope some of this made sense. Some things annoy me more than others lol.

[permanentreverie]

I HAVE NEVER BEEN A HAPPIER GIRL. EVER.

[faunandfloraas]

i hope whatever weird thing thats wrong with me is resolved by the concert next month bc if its not im really not seeing how i'll be able to go

[danderria]

Lark Oak-Garcia (S2, 20/31)

Here is the art by @mj-thrush-gxn that inspired Lark's outfit (and especially the twins' accessories)

Check out the other characters in this project here

More outfits under read more!

[jrueships]

guess whos not going in at all this week, actually

[hopecomesbacktolife]

thinking of rereading the entirety of HoME again. for my health

[emdotcom]

My brain is so full of Bees about Post-Shift 2.

It's a fan game that was delayed for 4 years -- by the time it released, fnaf fangames as a whole were not as popular as they had been, & most people in the scene had forgotten about Post-Shift 1, so not a lot of people heard about it/played it.

Worse still is the people who did talk about the game. Pretty unanimously, the consensus was this: this game is the craziest, most insane fnaf fangame. It's overly difficult with mechanics that have no rhyme or reason to them & tutorials that are wordy, unhelpful, & sometimes actively mislead the player, meaning you need to comb through a lot of text only to be misinformed. It's not as infamous as some other fangames, but it definitely was talked about very poorly.

In general, I think most of these criticisms were blown up out of proportion, but I can't really disagree with most people's problems -- it is difficult & wordy, & rather hard to understand. I think, however, that the game is still 1. Really fun, 2. Not a bad game at all, &, most importantly, 3. Is a free fucking game that was clearly a passion project. Most damn fangames never get off the fucking ground when made in groups because the creators will never make a red cent off the thing -- this game was made by one dude for 4 years & delivered to people for free. It didn't ask anything of you except to accept it as a difficult game & to not go in with wild expectations. The dev just wanted to make a game that was rough, but he also wanted to make a game that felt unique & was fun. & It is fun, too, is the damn thing.

[brianskangs]

I AM FINALLY DONE WITH THIS DEGREE AFTER A YEAR OF STRUGGLE!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[good-beans]

Writing full-casted Milgram fic is like that scene from Sound of Music when Maria is naming all the children and forgets one -- I'll be halfway through a scene and be counting heads of who I mentioned before whirling around like GOD BLESS KURT (<- aka fuck I forgot Muu)

[criscura]

I wish I wasn't so exhausted and I could make more art.... I even planned out a whole prompt-a-day month for Saigenos/Genosai, TWICE, but the first time no one seemed like they could participate when I asked about it, and the second time I friggin lost the damned plan. I could remake it a third time, but I just....I don't know.

I've been really struggling to get along for a while, and I think if it didn't hit it off--or even if I just got really productive and it seemed like I was reaching crickets--I'd be so incredibly discouraged that it would bring me down even further. It usually takes my stuff a few months to a year to get reach, and that really doesn't do anything for me when I need the support immediately.

It's not that I don't have a billion ideas for so many different things, but my battery has been taking longer and longer to charge up and it's been running out faster and faster, and it's been like this for....a year?? Ish?? Maybe longer, I don't know.

I wish I could just stop needing so much fucking time to bounce back.....

[flecks-of-stardust]

'people should make weirder gender headcanons,' i say, looking at my main group of OCs, of which none of them use they/them except innocence (who is genderfluid)

[phagodyke]

didn't realise I was angry abt my mum trying to seek emotional reassurance from me until I brought it up in conversation w my roommate and ended up bitching for an hour abt it like. yeah okay I guess I am a bit pissed off !!