#Ice Age 2 and even Happy Feet’s score is quite nice

[chonkchu]

Idk how I should feel about this…

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Klaine it up! 2, 7, 12, 21, 50

Okay...I got this. PROMPTS FOUND HERE

2 - you accidentally sprayed them with yogurt when you open the lid the wrong way. 

This was not Kurt Hummel’s first time opening yogurt but it might’ve well have been. He was sitting at a picnic table in Central Park on his lunch break from Vogue.com having just picked up a BLT, sweeten iced tea, and strawberry yogurt from his newfound favorite sandwich shop. It just happened to be two blocks down from the Vogue offices too. 

After eating half a sandwich, he found himself watching three young girls practicing their hula-hooping skills. Of course, while entranced by the colorful swirls of plastic, Kurt grabbed his low-fat yogurt and pulled at the lid, and the minute he did another man was being dragged by his golden retriever over to Kurt’s table. 

Before he could stop it, a splash of light pink yogurt was splattered across the front of a bright blue polo. 

“Shit, I am so sorry,” they both said. 

Kurt had a lap full of puppy and the man covered in yogurt. 

“She’s really friendly and has a fondness for bacon,” the man said, gesturing to the sandwich. “And who can blame her.” 

With that comment, Kurt pushed his meal away slightly. Out of reach of the dog’s mouth. 

“I usually am way more careful with my food,” Kurt said. 

The handsome man only laughed, “it’s no big deal, do you happen to have a napkin?” 

“Oh yes!” Kurt reached into his bag to grab one. 

“Thanks,” he said, “come here, Lacey.” 

The puppy sat right at his side and waited. Kurt stood up to wipe the yogurt away while the man kept Lacey still. 

“I can...” he started to say but Kurt was already pulling away having cleaned it up the best he could. 

“Lacey and I also share a fondness for cute boys but I don’t suppose...” he trailed off, blushing. 

Kurt still wasn’t used to being flirted with but this wasn’t small town, Ohio. 

“And who can blame you,” Kurt replied, already grabbing a pen and paper from his bag to write on. 

THE REST OF THE PROMPTS CAN BE FOUND BELOW THE CUT

7 - you both do the side-to-side dance when you try to pass them in the grocery store aisle

Kurt told his dad to pick up an extra heavy whipping cream three days ago when Burt asked if Kurt needed any other ingredients for Thanksgiving dessert. He told him. 

“I only need 3 things: dark chocolate, heavy whipping cream, and almond extract.” 

Burt had gotten everything but Kurt needed whipping cream for both the chocolate mousse itself and the whipped topping he planned to make. Now he was at the crowded grocery store one day prior to Thanksgiving. Exactly where he didn’t want to be. 

 Of course, every grocery store made you walk all the way to the back of the store for dairy products. I’ll just grab milk and eggs real quick, you think, then suddenly you have a cart full of snacks you didn’t need. 

Kurt found the red and white carton fairly quick. He backed up and started to make his way to the self-checkout. Before he could think about the temptation of potato chips, he was stopped by another body. 

They both stopped and shifted their feet to make way for the other. From right to left and back again for several seconds before both falling into pits of laughter. Kurt looked into deep hazel eyes that twinkled at him. He wondered how long he could do this dance just to stare at them some more. 

“That’s my fault, I came around the corner too quick,” he said. 

Not quick enough, Kurt thought, we could’ve fallen to the floor. You on top of me would be quite nice. 

“No, it’s all me,” Kurt replied, “I should’ve been watching where I was going.” 

He fumbles into his pocket for a business card. Isabel’s one-month anniversary gift. 

“If you’re in town longer than tomorrow, I’d love to buy you some coffee as an apology,” Kurt said, handing the card over. 

“Oh.” Kurt watched him scan the card, flipping it over in his hands. “I’d love to, Kurt.” 

A shiver ran down his spine. Maybe he should thank his dad for forgetting the cream. 

12 - you kick a ball and your shoe flies off, hitting them in the back of your head

Blaine used to hate having an older brother. Growing up, he felt constantly in competition with Cooper’s larger-than-life personality. Now that Cooper had settled down in LA with Lisa, his wife, and had two wonderful kids, having an older sibling didn’t seem too bad.

It was summer break, Blaine was free to leave the confines of his NYU dorm room. He was trying to get lost in the sunshine of California to forget he was about to start his final year of college. Time with his niece and nephew was sure to put any nervousness out of his head. 

They were playing soccer in the park when it happened. It was bound to. Everyone in LA was hot. It was like the law. 

Cute boys and Blaine’s non-existence coordination weren’t a good mix. 

Blaine went to kick the ball and caught sight of a bicep. An unusually pale bicep. A rare sight in sunny Los Angles. Arms, Blaine fantasized, he’d love to see wrapped around him or possibly pushing his legs apart. 

He was sure he tighten his laces. This is why Blaine Anderson didn’t wear sneakers. Missed the ball by an inch but the force of his kick sent something flying through the air directly towards the cute guy: a sneaker. 

It happened so fast, Blaine heard the yell of surprise before realizing his sock was exposed. Once he realized what happened, he rushed over to the man. 

“Fuck, I am so sorry,” Blaine said. “Can I do anything?” 

“Well, an aspirin would be great,” the man teased. 

Blaine sat in the grass and chuckled. Still extremely embarrassed. 

“Not exactly the fairytale I always dreamed of.” 

“Fairytale?” Blaine asked, scrunching up his nose in confusion. 

“Cinderella,” he said, like it was obvious, “a lost shoe as it were.” 

“I’m not Cinderella,” Blaine told him, “sorry to say. I’m more of a Blaine.” 

“Kurt.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” 

“I do believe this is yours,” Kurt said, handing over the shoe. 

21 - Almost spilling a drink because you met their eyes and got distracted thinking how cute they are. 

His dad always said pour your drinks yourself. Blaine became that friend who grabbed drinks for everyone for this reason exactly. He wasn’t sure what the occasion was exactly but his study buddy from his songwriting workshop invited him. It was at some loft in Bushwick but Blaine didn’t mind the adventure. 

Until tonight he had no reason to venture to this part of the city. 

“Blaine!” Elliott exclaimed, pushing a solo cup into his hand, “Drink up, karaoke at eleven!” 

Then he disappeared into the crowd. Blaine headed straight for the kitchen and poured the toxic mixture down the sink. He found a new cup and started reading the labels of the bottles spread out across the counter. Mixers and any alcohol of your choice seemed to be available. 

Rum and coke sounded good. He went into the fridge for a cold soda first. Blaine was happy the kitchen was empty he wasn’t quite ready to start making friends. As far as he knew, Elliott was the only friendly face here tonight. 

He poured the rum in for some semblance of tracking his alcohol intake. The last time he got drunk, he dialed the professor he TA-ed for, who thankfully overlooked that incident. Blaine cracked open the coke and while he poured surveying the living room. 

People were dancing to an upbeat pop song that Blaine strangely didn’t recognize and others were mingling in doorways or sat on scattered sofas and chairs chatting. He caught a pair of blue eyes in the crowd. 

The man they were attached to was stunning. If he hadn’t blinked, Blaine could’ve mistaken him for a marble statue carved by the gods. They didn’t lose eye contact as he walked towards the kitchen. It wasn’t until the man stood on the other side of the counter that Blaine noticed his hand was covered in soda. 

“Papers towels are behind you,” the man offers. 

Blaine set the now empty can down and spun around for paper towels to clean up his mess. 

Just great, he thought, make a fool out of yourself. That’ll score you some points. 

He cleans up his hand before wiping down the puddle of bubbling coke on the counter. 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he continues, “and this is my party so I like to know all my guests.” 

“Your party?” Blaine stutters. 

“It’s my birthday.” 

“I’m Blaine,” he introduces. “Elliott invited me. We have a class together.” 

“Oh, you’re Blaine. From songwriting workshop.” 

“That’s me.” 

Elliott’s obviously talked about him before to this man. This gorgeous, completely out of Blaine’s league man. 

“God, he’s relentless,” he says. “I’m going to kill him.” 

“Um, might I ask why? I can leave if there’s an issue.” Blaine knows when he isn’t welcome. 

“No, no,” he replies, “don’t go. It’s just he’s been trying to set us up for months now.” 

It all clicks.

“Oh god, you’re Kurt.” 

“That’s me, the birthday boy. and you are Elliott’s idea of the best gift ever.”

Blaine blushes. “I don’t know if I can I've up to that but if I can have the next dance I can try.” 

Kurt nods. “I’d like that, Blaine. A lot.” 

50 - getting paired up on an amusement park ride that requires even-numbered riders

All of Kurt’s friends hated rollercoasters. Rachel didn’t like heights, Elliott refused to do anything with loops, and Santana, well, she was too caught up in her new girlfriend to be bothered. 

“I only wanna hear screaming tonight,” she told him. 

So, Kurt waited in line himself. Some fun day at Coney Island this was turning out to be. He was so glad he was spending the day with friends. Kurt rolled his eyes. 

The woman directing the ride gave Kurt his row number and moved down the line. Behind him someone tapped on his shoulder, Kurt turned around and found himself looking at a curly-haired man around his age. 

“Guess we’re both odd men out then, I’m the single rider in my group today.” 

“Oh, um, no, my friends were too chicken to even ride,” Kurt said. 

“I’m really surprised Wes and David are good to go. They both hate being upside-down.” 

Kurt smiled.

“I'm Blaine, by the way.”

“Kurt.” 

The ride emptied out and Kurt crawled over to the far seat. They buckled themselves in and listened to the instructions to keep all body parts inside at all times. Then, the bar came down and the ride launched. 

After the ride ended, Blaine and Kurt were chatting all the way down. Wes and David trailing behind them.

“That second loop really threw me,” Blaine was saying. 

“I saw,” Kurt exclaimed, “I thought you were going to fall out of your seat.” 

“Downfalls of being short and compact.”

When three more people joined their day at the park, no one questioned it. 

[jennibeultimate]

Challenge Cup 2020 - Report

I really needed some time to cope with what I have seen at this small competition. It was overwhelming on so many levels.

It’s not a secret that the main reason I went there is too see Shoma compete. Shoma in a competition so „close“ – sign me in for that stuff. 😉

So I managed to arrive right before the SP and actually it went by in a blur. As Shoma was already in the 2nd group I did not pay much attention to everyone else before. I was too excited about chatting with my fellow friends and well soon as Shoma was present I think my focus just shifted to him, even when others were still skating (actually Jonathan Hess delivered a clean program, the best he had all season). You cannot imagine how sparkly Shoma‘s costume is in real life. 100th times more sparkly than any television can give justice. The program itself just gets the crowd involved pretty easily. Forget about that 4T (who needs combos?), everything else was just great. I really lack words to describe… (that’s why it took me so long to post something). Let me say we all just felt like the flower girl who literally fell to Shoma’s feet…because we all definetly fell for him too 😉

I mean it’s a B competition so you cannot really expect much of everyone (Donovan Carillo is really a darling, such charming presence on ice. Keiji Tanaka was fun with his program too.)…but the rest wasn’t as impressive…but sure it’s hard to compare if you just have one of the greatest in the sport at the same event…

On Saturday it was just very unfortunate that Rika (who I also adore) was No 2 in the SP and skated at the same time as Shoma trained. So my heart was split…then I made a little compromise watching partly Shoma in training and of course all of Rika’s SP and warm-up. I was running back and forth between competition hall and restaurant (you could not access the real practice rink but watch through a window at the restaurant or go public skating in a speed rink around). Rika’s SP really is growing on me, not a fan of the music so much but a fan of her interpretation. Let’s just ignore the mistakes and I am sure that won’t happen at Worlds 😊. Yuhana Yokoi is such a great talent, extremely funny person and really endearing to watch. Her K&C reaction to her score was so cute. The ladies competition had even fewer names I recognise than in the men event. But one that I really like to see is Dasa Grm who unfortunately didn’t made it to Worlds because the ISU decided to raise the minimum TES during the season, which I think is pretty unfair.

Then the Men free skate had some ups and downs with every skater. Programs that I keep remembering are Phillip Warren’s „Western“ free skate and Alexei Bychenko’s wonderful „Pirates of the Carribean“ program. You see he is not taking things too serious and I just admire every skater that still tries to keep up with the youngsters at age 30. I think Keiji Tanaka live has more appeal form me than on a screen and I like his programs this season and he has ncie presence and good performance qualities. Jonathan Hess sadly couldn’t hold himself together for the free skate, but because he was surprisingly 2nd after the SP, he just had the VIP place for Shoma’s skate and he just left the K&C when Shoma was done…actually the whole skater entrance filled up with a lot of ppl for Shoma’s skate (coaches and skaters alike)….about Shoma’s skate, what can I say? Absolutely amazing. I can use every superlative to describe it and it still wouldn’t be enough to give my feelings justice. Immediately noticed the little alterations in the choreography, the whole skate was pure emotion and such a different vibe than at IdF (where I sat sobbing for 10 minutes straight, so I just feel like I deserved to see a happy skate instead). That he landed that 4S apparently was as suprising for him than to us. It was almost a clean free skate and this makes me super happy and tells everyone „I am back on track“. He even smiled a lot during the program. The interactions with Stephane are so cute. And the hug they shared made me so emotional, he really found his place in Champery.

So with my head already in some clouds I decided to not watch the Pairs SP and instead happily chatted with fellow Shoma fans who even gave out some presents. Everyone is soooo nice. And of course ppl hoped that Shoma would appear and he did. There was security and his manager with him (Stephane darted fast out of the building beforehand just like Keiji). Shoma just stopped and a lot of ppl pictures or autographs and after aproximately 10-15 minutes the security cutted the signing off because Shoma had to leave. I moved  a bit closer to the waiting crowd and was quite undecided if to approach. I cannot really tell how it happened, but somehow I managed to get inside the „line“ before security cutted off the rest. They builded some kind of circle. After I thought a lot „OMG this is really happening“ and being entirely a bit too long in his presence for my emotional well being I managed to make a selfie with Shoma. Well it’s not the best picture of me and it’s a bit blurry but well Shoma looks really cute on it and I am very pleased. I think the signing really showed the essential being of Shoma. He was so kind and tried to give everyone what they wanted. He genuinely smiled throughout the whole thing and responded „Thank you“ to everyone. Also for ppl who didn’t had any surface for signing, Shoma signed squating to the floor to write. So everyone was basically standing around him looking down at him (he was basically a foot away from me like that). What a great gesture that is. How many ppl would do that? I was extremely overwhelmed and impressed.

I still cannot really grab what was happening….

With such a good mood I approached the last day of competition. Ladies free skate had a lot up and down, but Yuhana and Rika made up for all other ladies. Both were clean and extremely incredible. I was very emotional for both of them. I think Rika improved leaps and bouds with her free skate. I am really looking forward to see her skate like this at Worlds.

The Pairs competition afterwards I was just emotionally so drained that I payed less attention. But Severin/Kiefer had a great skate and also the American pair left me impressed. A big Pairs field for such a small competition.

WOW what a competition this little Challenge Cup has been! So many happy memories that make me look forward to Worlds with a good feeling! 😊

[scarmander]

Lily Evans and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Fic summary: The day after Lily ends her friendship with Snape, she wakes up with this little tiny twinge of pain in her shoulder. It only gets worse from then on. She blames those bloody Slytherins. Oh, and also that one messy-haired toerag and his prattish friends.

Rated T

Chapter 1  | Chapter 2

You can also read it on Fanfiction.net

Chapter 3: Bloody Lips and Beating Hearts

“O-oh fu-uck,” she breathes out, her voice interrupted by her heaving chest. She can feel the hiccups building up in her guts. They’re walking up to her, now.

She’s sniffling, and wipes her face on her sleeve, and shoves her other hand in her pocket. It’s a good thing her make-up is already ruined. She doesn’t feel so bad about it now. She doesn’t want the bloody gits to see her crying like this. She needs to put on a brave front. She cannot let them take this away from her. They’ve already taken too much from her.  She swallows, closes her eyes for a second and wiggles her fingers around her pocket. Why isn’t her bloody wand in here? She tries another one, and a third one, on the inside of her robes. Her pockets are decidedly empty, and they’re drawing closer.

Where the bloody hell is her wand? It’s the third time today. Did she forget it inside? Is it in the Library, that’s the last place she remembers seeing it, and using it. Shit. Alright, alright. Breathe in, breathe out. There are three of them. And Mulciber is perhaps twenty feet away now. There’s Rosier too, strolling behind, but she doesn’t recognize the girl next to him.

Is the bloody wand in her bag? She needs to check, very quickly. She gets up, sniffles some more, picks up her bag and opens it – almost rips the top off, actually – and starts digging around, desperately. She pricks her finger on a quill, finds another one of her hair ties, that’s always good but she feels like throwing the damn thing away, and finally, finally finds what she’s looking for, stuck underneath one of her books.

“What are you doing here all by yourself, hmm? Aren’t you afraid someone might take advantage of the situation?”

Lily snaps her head up, and takes a look. Shit. They’re right in front of her. Her heartbeat quickens and she tenses up.

“Especially now… You know – that you have no allies left? Who’s gonna protect little miss Mudblood now?” Mulciber continues, and she hates him so much in that moment she doesn’t know whether to tackle him to the ground or to hex his head off.

“Who says I need to be protected?” she scoffs, and hopes he cannot sense her fear, her sadness. She doesn’t feel particularly brave, right now. She feels tiny and lonely. They’re three against one. She cannot let them see her afraid. She cannot be afraid. So, she lets anger take over, glares at them and tightens her grip on her wand, her hand still shoved inside her bag. She can easily disarm one or two of them before they even have time to say a word. She’s going to have to be quick, if need be. She hopes it doesn’t come to that.

“I think your time is up, and you know it. There’s no more Snape to defend you, now, you’re no longer off limits. I can’t wait to have my fun with you.”

“You know I’m still a Prefect, right? You know that, you see that badge on my chest, right?” She points at the shiny golden pin.

“What are you gonna do, take points off Slytherin as you scream in pain? I can’t wait to see you try.” He has this sinister grin on his face, and she knows he means it. The things he’s done to students thus far… She stares him right in the eye, she won’t let him scare her.

“I’m sure Dumbledore will be very happy to know you haven’t learned your lesson. You do remember what he told you, right?”

“Oh, no no no, let’s not bring the old man into this.”

“Why, you afraid of him? You should be. Hell, I think you’re scared of me. Look at you, you haven’t even drawn your wand out, right now. I think you have every right to be scared of me. I know all your dirty little secrets. All your special tricks. You don’t know mine.”

She’s tempting the devil, now. She’s acting braver than she really is, it’s really stupid of her, but she cannot stop herself. She’s so angry, not just at that evil, inhuman piece of rotting fungi in front of her, but at everything and everyone. And alright, maybe at him in particular. And maybe a little bit more so at… Snivellus. Yes, that’s his name now. It has to be.

“I think you should learn to know your place, filthy beast!” roars Rosier, who bumps into Mulciber as he makes his way towards her. He’s taller than Mulciber, broader, too, but he doesn’t scare her nearly as much as Mulciber does. Maybe it’s because she knows what kind of perverted, demented stuff Mulciber likes to do to people, maybe it’s because she knows that as beefy and aggressive as Rosier is, he’s not the smartest kid around. She doesn’t know who the girl hiding behind them is, she looks younger than them, she can’t be too much of a threat. That’s what her world has turned to – trying to figure out whether or not a twelve or thirteen-year-old is a threat to her.

“Alright, Rosier, keep quiet, you’re gonna give everyone a migraine. Don’t make me take points off so close to the end of the year, what are you, this year, is it in third or fourth place? With all those Quidditch matches you lost, it’s no wonder.”

The two nitwits are on the Slytherin Quidditch team, and holy hell, she has to say that they got purely and properly trounced this year. They won one single match, very narrowly so, against Ravenclaw, and that was after they’d managed to send half the Ravenclaw team to the Infirmary with countless foul plays. She knows how mad this makes them, she’s seen their faces after every match, has heard from Se… Snivellus, about the grudge that’s deepening between them and the Gryffindor Quidditch team. They’re all terribly jealous of Potter’s talent. She wants to rub it in their faces.

“What do you even know about Quidditch, you Muggle bitch?” Mulciber shouts and she rolls her eyes.

She’s not even really offended any more, she’s heard those words too many times for them to still have an impact on her.

“Enough to know when you’re getting your sorry asses handed to you by the Gryffindor Quidditch team – wasn’t it twice, this year? I think it was twice. That was nice. Really, Potter outdid himself all year. What was that last score again? Something around 350 to 60? Man, wasn’t that something to behold.”

And that’s it. That’s how she gets the both of them to draw their wands out. Predictable.

“What do you think you’re doing? Do you want detention? Is that what you want? Put those away.” She draws hers out of her bag, takes a single step towards them.

They’re staring at her, and unlike the girl behind them, they’re not moving. Their wands are still pointed at her, but they haven’t thrown any curses at her yet. This is slightly confusing.

“I am going back inside. Amycus is waiting for me,” the little girl speaks out with a haughty tone. “Bye now, see you in the Common Room,” she waves vaguely towards the two boys, who don’t even so much as turn their heads towards her, spins on her heels with a very straight back, and walks away.

“Training them early, aren’t you?” Lily dares to ask. “Are you planning on training them all at that age?”

She’s being stupid. Stupid and brave. Too brave for her own good. Her dad would be furious at her. Her mum would probably cheer her on.

“Oh, you have no idea what we’re planning to do, once the right people are in charge,” Yaxley snarls at her, his face twisted in disgust.

“Well, I’m pretty sure it’s got something to do with mass murder, torture, and the suppression of human rights, but go on, I might be surprised. Are you planning on giving out free Butterbeer? Will there be free concerts? Man, I really want to meet Stubby Boardman.”

“You better watch yourself, you Mudblood scum. It won’t be long, now.”

“I can’t wait. We both know who’s better at magic. You’re all talk, the both of you, with your wands pointed at me, threatening me… But you haven’t even tried anything yet. I think you know, you both know, that if you’d so much as tried anything I would win, and it wouldn’t actually be that hard. And so, you don’t do anything. Because being bested by a girl and a Mudblood at the same time? Oh, now that wouldn’t look good if Voldemort ever found out, would it?”

“DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK HIS NAME!” Yaxley’s at it again, his loud voice should terrify her, it doesn’t.

They’re positively seething right now. Yaxley is shaking with fury and his face has gone all red, which clashes fiercely with his blonde hair. He looks like a strawberry-vanilla ice cream, she thinks, and the realisation makes her giggle.

“Voldemort,” she says, still giggling.

And that’s when it all takes a turn for the worst. Men and their fragile egos.

She had imagined that as soon as they’d barely even had had time to point them at her that she would have shouted “Expelliarmus!” and sure enough, both of their wands would come flying towards her. But they hadn’t done that. They’d stayed put. She sort of wishes they had tried to curse her. But, it doesn’t really quite go how she had naively thought it would. She ought to have known, by now, to expect the unexpected.

So, what she hadn’t expected – but really, really wishes she had – is the fist that comes crashing into her jaw, instead of a spell, which forces her to stumble backward and she feels the back of her head hit the window sill behind her, the blunt edge of the wood digging into her scalp. Her hand instinctively goes to touch her face as the other reaches back to try and steady herself.

Well, she’s not giggling any more.  

“Who’s the Muggle, now?” she sneers immediately, pushing herself off of the window. It takes her another second before she realizes there’s something dripping from her lips. She slides her fingers towards them and feels the warm liquid coating her skin and nails. Her head feels tight, she can feel a blinding pain emanating from the back of it, her mouth is numb and she has trouble understanding what’s just happened. The shock of red on her hand as she lowers it to look at it is what makes it all click. She’s bleeding, quite profusely so. She swallows and tastes the iron on her tongue. They did this to her.

There’s blood on her face, on her hands and in her mouth. There’s bloody damn blood in her mouth. This is the same blood that they hate her for, and there it is, in blatant display, for everyone to see. She hopes it terrifies them.

The pain shocks her, humiliates her. The red of her own blood on her hands stains her, marks her. They’ve left their brand on her. This is what they want, her body is somehow no longer entirely hers. She feels their hatred pulsating through her teeth, as the pain echoes around her bones. She grips her wand so tightly there are sparks flying off of it in small bursts. It’s funny, in a way, because they look like the stars that are dancing in front of her eyes. Merlin, she can feel the headache already beginning to worsen. Her head is throbbing, it’s kind of nauseating, in a way.

So, she thinks, they’ve really been letting her out easy for the last five years, haven’t they? This is the first time they’re resorted to actual physical violence against her. There’s a newfound form of anger inside her that won’t ever be settled with magic or words.

She spats the blood in her mouth on Mulciber’s shoes, throws a full body-binding spell at him, as she shoves past him to reach for Yaxley. There’s loud thud behind her, but she doesn’t even flinch, he’s probably fallen on the ground.

Yaxley must have realized what he’s just done, what he’s going to have to deal with, now, because he’s taken a few steps back. She’s furious – enraged, really. And she really, really wants to blow his head off. And she really, really feels like running back to her dorm to hide in her bed for the rest of the day. She doesn’t do either of those things. There’s a strange sort of cold determination that engulfs her, and she sees the flicker or fear behind the pale blue eyes that are now avoiding her. She scares him. This is both very satisfying and terrifying to her. That’s not the kind of person she is. She doesn’t scare people, she makes them laugh and tries to make them as comfortable around her as possible. How can she scare someone so badly they won’t even look at her? And yet, here she is, blood dripping from her face and onto her robes, sticking to her fingers, anger burning her alive, she doesn’t feel the pain in her jaw. She takes another step, and when the coward raises his wand at her, she sends it flying without a single word. She doesn’t even have time to realize she’s just done wordless magic before she raises her bloodied hand to her face to wipe her mouth and slaps him across the face. She marks him with her own blood. There he is, now, bloodied strawberry and vanilla. This is everything he hates, she thinks, and he seems too shocked to even move.

So, she shoves him – she wants him out of the way, away, far away from her – and her wand sends another burst of sparks as it collides with his robes, and ends up burning the fabric. He stumbles back and shrieks in pain as he tries to stop the fire that’s starting. He dives down towards the ground to reach for his wand.

She accios her bag towards her, because there is no way in hell she’s staying here a second longer. She hears shouts of pain and anger behind her, but keeps on walking. There might be some stubborn stars still dancing in front of her eyes, but it’s alright, she’ll go inside. Inside is great. Her vision is starting to get blurry – and so she pauses for a second, rubs at her eyes with shaking hands, then starts walking again. She tries to shake off the dizzying blur, but fails miserably.

Except she stops dead in her tracks a few steps later. There he is. She hasn’t seen him since yesterday and there he is. Of course he’s here. Of course he’s seen what just happened and didn’t do anything to try and stop it. Of course. Severus Snape – the name is out now, she can’t hide from it any more – is in front of her, and her face is covered in blood, her jaw is probably red from the blow it has just received and he’s staring at her with this pathetic look on his face. She blinks a couple of times, tries to swallow. Her throat is tight.

“Lil...” he tries to say in a soft voice. She wants to slap him across the face with the same bloodied hand she’s just used.

“Don’t,” she growls. And he at least has the decency not to continue.

He wants her to forgive him. The nerve! She glares at him.

He wants her dead. He wants her dead. She wants him gone. He can see her anger on her face, it’s always been very obvious. He knows her too well not to see it. She hates him. He can see it on her face, too. There’s no going back from that.

She’s still bleeding.

Her heart won’t stop beating hard against her ribs and she’s still bleeding. And he’s staring at her with disgust on his face, now.

This is too much. The world starts spinning dangerously. He wants her dead. He’s right in front of her and he wants her dead.

So, she tells him so. Bleeding lips, bruised jaw, fierce gaze and all. “They want me dead. You want me dead.” She’s not even accusing him of anything. It’s a statement, pure and simple, her tone is even. He doesn’t get to refute that.

And yet, he tries.

“I never...” he begins.

“You do,” she cuts him short. He doesn’t get a say in that. He’s never going to speak to her. Never again. This is over. This is how it ends.

Her legs start to wobble around, struggling to hold up her own weight. Shit, is she going to faint? Not right now. She can’t faint now. She can hear her heart in her ears, that’s never a good sign, but she has worse things to deal with right now.

“I hope it’s worth it,” she hears herself breathe out in a voice she barely recognizes as her own, as she looks him dead in the eye. She wipes her own mouth again, puts away her wand in her pocket, and walks away. He doesn’t even say a word. There’s nothing else to say. There are no tears left in her eyes. This is over.

When she stumbles into The Great Hall, she doesn’t quite understand why everyone stops talking and why they all stare at her. She’d been walking aimlessly, her mind too far gone between the shock and the numbness for her to realize where she’d been heading. This is the Great Hall. Alright. Great. Familiar ground. She quite feels like ice cream right now, she hopes there’s some for dessert.

“Evans? Evans, are you alright?” someone’s voice calls out.

She doesn’t answer, truth is, she doesn’t know.

“What happened?” someone else asks her. She just shrugs, closes her eyes for a second. Now that’s better. The light is blinding her. The noise starts getting louder, voices and clattering forks and knives that make her head pound. She doesn’t want to open her eyes again. This is better. So much better.

“You’re bleeding!” screams another voice. “Lily? What’s happened? Lily!”

There’s so much noise. She clenches her eyes, but the sound won’t stop and her head hurts. She drops her bag on the ground, next to her feet. Now if she could just go sit down on that bench...

“We’re gonna get you to the Hospital Wing, Evans, okay?”

“No – No I’m good, here. Hey, is there ice cream? I really want ice cream.”

“What? No, no, you have to go to the Infirmary. You’re bleeding everywhere.” She feels gentle hands, and she’s trying to see who’s taking her away from the noise and clatter but her eyes won’t focus, even when she blinks and blinks.

“I’ll just go fetch Dorcas and the others, alright? You take her there, please don’t be an idiot.”

“I’m not going to just dump her somewhere! Who do you think I am? Honestly! I’m taking her to the Hospital Wing, McKinnon, for real. Oh, grab her bag, please.”

“Yeah, alright. See you in a bit, alright? I’ll find them, they can’t have gone far.”

All she can see are spots of colours floating around. They’re leaving the Great Hall, now, she thinks.  The voice is still complaining. “The nerve of that girl, I mean, I wouldn’t leave you to die in a corner, you know?”

She makes a non-committal groan in response, because she has no idea what he’s actually saying.

“Alright, yeah, that’s too much blood. I’ll just...” Lily hears some more mumbling before she feels a tingly, cooling sensation on her lips. “There, I stopped the bleeding. Hang on a second, will ya? I’ll just… Scourgify. That’s a bit better.”

“That’s nice of you, thank you…  But, err,  who are you?” she decides to ask.

“Oh Merlin, you’ve gone barmy, haven’t you?” the voice answers, and she’d be positively offended if her head didn’t hurt so much and she could actually focus on the words. “You know me, insane woman. My name’s Sirius Black, we were having a chat just an hour ago? You remember that?”

“No, I know who you are, Black, I just can’t err, what’s that word? The one with the eyes thingy?”

“See? Oh fuck, is it that bad?” he sounds genuinely concerned, and he stops pushing her towards… She doesn’t actually remember where they’re going. He puts both of his hands on her scalp and she lets out a yelp.

“Fucking hell. You’re bleeding there too. What the hell happened to you?”

“I don’t know, just… He punched me and… Where are we going?”

“The Hospital Wing, I’ve already told you.”

“Did you? That’s nice of you. You’re nice, you know, for not letting me die. That’s nice.”

“Yeah yeah, you’re welcome, Evans. But shit, have you been cursed or something? Is it a memory spell?

“No, I don’t think so. There was a fist, and that was it. Just bam, you know, and then blood. Loads of that.”

“Well, alright, Pomfrey will be thrilled to have to deal with that. I mean, worse case scenario, you stay like this forever. Won’t be much of a change, will it?” he sniggers. “I mean, you’ve always been a bit weird, but not proper insane weird, you know?”

Quite frankly, she doesn’t know. Do people really think she’s weird?

“Am I weird?”

“No! I mean, you have your moments. But it’s alright, you’re fit enough so that it doesn’t really matter. Err… Don’t tell James I said that, alright?”

“Why would I talk to James? Who’s that? Do you mean Potter – James Potter?” she manages to say, as she struggles to keep both of her eyes open. They’ve reached the stairs, there are many, many people around. The noise is killing her.

“Yeah, you barmy bint.” Black tells her, with a nudge, except her balance is way off and she almost tumbles up the stairs, but he catches her just in time.

“Oy! I’ll have you know I defended his Quidditch talents earlier, that’s why I have – this,” she says, as she points her finger towards her face in a circular motion. “So be respectful. He owes me my face.”

Sirius is actually halfway lifting her up the stairs at this point. He’s put his hand around both of her shoulders and is basically carrying her sideways. She lets him do so because she doesn’t quite trust her legs to work properly.

“That’s nice of you. I’ll make sure to tell him that. That’ll make his day. Who did this to you anyway?”

“Do you mean who punched me or who... you know, was er... there?”

“Both,” he says with an assured tone. He hates the Slytherins more than she probably ever will. It’s a very complicated story, apparently, and she doesn’t even know the half of it.

“Yaxley’s the one who punched me. Mulciber was there too. Then there was… Snivellus.”

“Oh I see you’re sticking to that, then? It’s a good one. My personal favourite. I thought it was a one-time thing yesterday, but I like that,” he starts, with a somewhat cheery tone, but then stops abruptly, and she doesn’t see his face, but she can clearly hear his voice get angrier. “So… They’re just going around punching girls now? Just so you know, they’re dead.”

“That’s nice, you’re nice, right now, that’s weird,” she says, as she just leans on his shoulder, to rest her head.

“Wow, you really are out of it. How many times have you told me I’m nice in the last five minutes? Ten? We’re going for a world record, I reckon,” he’s trying to spark up a conversation, but she’s too tired to keep talking. He seems to have understood that, and she thinks it’s nice of him to continue talking instead. “Alright, you’ll be okay, we’re almost there anyway. But we’re gonna get them good, I promise you.”

“Yaxley might already be in there, he was on fire when I left,” she manages to mumble, barely opening up her mouth, but he seems to understand what she’s saying anyway.

“Nice! How d’you manage that?”

“An accident, I didn’t mean to. My wand just, er, does this thing when I’m too angry, with the, er… sparks thing?”

He lets her slip from his grasp for a second, and she feels her body slide down, her knees giving out under her. She’s about to fall down in a rather pathetic manner, just sliding down towards the floor when he catches her again.

“Oh shit, alright, I’ll just...” She feels both of his arms grabbing her and lifting her up. “You’re heavier than I thought, Merlin. Alright, see, we’re almost there. Just this corridor next.”

“Thank you, you’re nice. Have you always been nice?”

“Oh I like you so much better with your head all bashed up… Alright, we’re here.”

She heard the loud creaking of the doors as he opened them up, and saw the light pouring in through her closed eyelids.

“Poppy!” Sirius yelled, way too loudly for her taste, but he seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and so, she didn’t complain. And sure enough, she hears quick footsteps coming their way.

“I thought I’d told you to stop… What’s happened?”

“She says she got punched, but I don’t know, she hasn’t opened her eyes in a while, I feel like maybe she’s been cursed, somehow?”

“I haven’t! I just got punched is all.”

“Alright, bring her over there.”

She can feel herself being pushed towards the end of a bed, and then hears the screeching sound of a chair being dragged across  the floor… And then Pomfrey is touching her head. All that Lily can think about is that her hands are cold.

“How did you hit the back of your head, dear? You said you got punched, didn't you?” Pomfrey asks her worriedly.

“I don't know – all I know is that I got punched.Then there was blood, and my head hurt and that was it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, dear, it’s alright.”

She doesn’t know how long Pomfrey spends trying to find the right things to put on her head to stop whatever the hell is happening, but it doesn’t take very long. She’s feeling way better in a matter of seconds, her head still throbs painfully, but she can see, finally, and she’s pretty sure her brain has started functioning properly again.

So, all in all, Pomfrey works wonders very quickly. Unfortunately, it’s not long enough for her to be gone once the Pratty Bunch actually shows up.

She knows because she hears Sirius yelling threats at them as they come in. She has to lean sideways and a little forward to look at what’s going on. Pomfrey gets up in a matter of seconds –  she’s definitely very quick – and goes to look at what’s happening. Sirius Black doesn’t care about her splitting headache, about the fact that Pomfrey is right there, or that there are probably other sick students in need of a good rest. He will absolutely yell profanities in the Hospital Wing, no matter what it may cost him in the end.

“Fucking wankers! You fighting girls, now you bloody fucking cowards? If you want a proper fist-fight, mate, I’ll give you one alright!”

“Mister Black! Go and sit down right now! I don’t need a scene! This is a place for sick people! Do not disturb their rest! Go! Now!”

Lily can see her push Sirius away from the group of Slytherins who has just come in. He’s coming back towards her and Lily is getting up from the bed where Pomfrey had been tending to her wounds.

“We should go, I think, I’m feeling better,” she tells him, her tone slightly awkward. He looks very angry, which sort of scares her because he has this intense look in his eyes she’s never seen before. He’s always so cocky and happy and joyful and the sharp contrast takes her slightly aback. “Come on,” she tells him, grabbing him by the sleeve of his robes, and they leave the Hospital Wing in a hurry.

“I’ll bloody fucking wreck his face,” he grumbles, once they’re out the doors. “Oh, wait ‘till Prongs hears about this. That’s gonna be something else alright.”

“What the hell is a Prongs?”

James Potter had had a very quick lunch, he’d been feeling too sulky, still, to enjoy the food and the friends that came along with being in the Great Hall. Lily wasn’t even there anyway, and what was the point of sulking if he couldn’t stare at her longingly whilst doing so? He’d gone back to his dorm, leaving Sirius and the rest of the group downstairs. Lily’s friends had come to eat pretty soon after they’d been – rudely and unjustly – kicked out of the Library, but she wasn’t with them. He’d been sure she’d been headed towards the Great Hall, and now he had no idea where she actually was. So, he’d gone upstairs, both to sulk and to grab one of his – theirs – most treasured possessions: the Marauder’s Map. He wanted to know what had happened to her, and if need be, he’d go find her on his own before the Transfiguration O.W.L., but little did he know that he’d not made it to the third floor before the girl he’d been looking for had barged into the Great Hall, covered in blood, shaking and looking as pale as ghost. He had no way to know, either, that most of her friends had left the Great Hall too, trying to figure out where she was, and that this meant that it was his very best friend, Sirius Black who’d brought her to the Hospital Wing.

So, by time he’d actually made it up to his 5th year dorm – after having had a longer-than-planned chat with Benjy Fenwick in the common room, who’s been trying to have a chat with him about their Quidditch strategy for next year for the past few weeks – James Potter finds himself staring at the map with a confused look on his face.

Why in Merlin’s pants are Lily and Sirius in the Hospital Wing? Why the hell are the Slytherin dolts heading towards them too? He can see them quite clearly, the three little dots with the names Yaxley, Mulciber and Snape in the Hospital Tower, they’re getting close.

So, James grabs the map, his bag and wand and bolts towards the Fourth Floor, where he knows there’s a staircase that leads directly towards the Hospital Wing. He’ll be there in under five minutes if the stairs are feeling generous today.

And so he runs, bumps into passer-bys and mumbles quick, unintelligible excuses to them, and only stops running once, when he has to wait for the stairs to align. He doesn’t even stop running when Peeves tries to taunt him to get him to pay attention to him. He’d do it any other day, he’d have a laugh with the Poltergeist, play a prank on him or plan one with him. But not today.

“Ohhh, where’s little Potty going in such a hurry?” Peeves jeers, floating, looming, ominously overhead as he throws what looks like fresh dungbombs at shrieking students.

James has half a heart to sigh. He’s probably managed to break into Filch’s office again.

“Not now, Peeves!” he just yells as he tries to avoid Peeves’ arsenal of dungbombs, he manages to dodge them all as he heads into a side corridor.

The first sign of them he gets is her laugh. She’s laughing, this is good. He feels relief wash over him, from head to toe, and he slows down. He’s breathing hard, his sides hurt and his lungs feel cold. He should run more often, he’s clearly out of shape.

The relief doesn’t last very long, though, because once he sees her, he almost faints. She is covered in blood, her jaw, lips, throat, brows, clothes, hands, every bit of skin that isn’t covered has blood on it. His eyes go wide, he opens and closes his mouth, he wants to say something, but somehow his brain doesn’t find the proper words.

“Oh hey, mate, we were just talking about you!”

“What’s happened?” is all he manages to croak out. He wants to run to her, to hold her face in his hands, to caress her skin, to make sure she’s okay and to hold her close. He takes a step towards her, feels his arm threatening to extend to try and hug her, but he stops himself before he manages to embarrass himself in front of her. She doesn’t want him, she’s made that very clear to him yesterday. And yet, he yearns and worries. He avoids another embarrassing situation by shoving his traitor of a hand into his decidedly untameable hair, and he uses the other one to shove the map in his pocket.

“Well, err, fuck you’re gonna be mad. I’m pissed off, already. I mean, shit...”

“Are you okay, Evans?” His voice is weak, his eyes are frantically searching for clues about what’s happened to her. Sirius is not of much help, right now. His heart is beating way faster than it should, and James doesn’t know whether it’s because he ran all the way towards here or because he’s so worried his heart might give out.

“Oh, don’t pretend you worry that much, Potter,” she says with a huff, and rolls her eyes.

“Oh, come of it, Evans, you were defending his honour, earlier,” interrupts Sirius, who nudges her with his elbow, before flashing a grin at her.

This is surreal. He’s probably asleep right now. How and why in Merlin’s sodding socks are Sirius Black and Lily Evans being… Friendly? Why the hell aren’t they answering him? What the fuck happened to her? He can hear the furious beat of his heart, it just won’t stop pounding against his ribs. He thinks they might hear it too.

“Oh, I told you that, didn’t I? Yeah, that was my bad. Head injury-related issues, you know. Thanks again, by the way, for not leaving me to die in a corner.”

“What’s happened?” James finds himself repeating himself, he really, really has to know. This is driving him insane. “Why are you covered in blood?”

“Yaxley fucking punched her.”

Lily groans at the words. It takes him a second to register the sentence. And then...

“WHAT?” he yells, he cannot even really believe the words he’s just heard.

“See, I told you it’d drive him spare,” Sirius tells Lily with a smirk, and she smiles weakly at him, she’s so pale, and there’s so much blood on her. How the hell are they not angrier? What the bloody hell is happening?

“WHERE IS HE?” James roars, he’s already heading towards the Hospital Wing, fuck it, he’s just going to have to kill the bastard in there. “IS HE IN THERE? I’LL FUCKING...”

“Prongs, mate, alright calm down.”

But the doors to the Hospital Wing open, and oh, dear Merlin, if he’s not ready to fucking pounce right now.

[dat-town]

Under the same stars || chapter 2

Characters: Park Jimin & OC (Xu Xianni)

Setting: Winter Olympics, figure skater!Jimin AU

Genre: 90% fluff 10% angst

Summary: A story about Olympics, first love and rules that are meant to be broken.

Words: 7832

Chapters: 1, 2, 3  (the end)

Breaking rule no.2

Day 4 - 13th February

 I feel like I’m walking on eggshells and the house of cards can crumble in any minute but it’s so fun going against rules. A few minutes after midnight, my usual curfew we arrive back at the apartment building and say goodbyes to each other. The elevator gets emptier by every floor and by the time we arrive at the fourth, it’s only me and Jimin. When the doors automatically open and I make a move to get out, but he gently takes a hold of my wrist to keep me by his side.

“Are you sleepy?” he asks concern shown lightly in his voice.

“No,” I shake my head while looking at him because it’s true: I’m wide awake. Electricity is building up in my veins.

“Can I show you something?”

I simply nod and he presses the R button after dropping his hand back to his side. His touch’s ghost still lingers on my skin and suddenly I’m cold despite the multiple layers of clothes on me. It’s quiet while we go up, the air is filled with something I can’t put my fingers on. Not to mention that I feel my heart bouncing erratically as soon as we step out to the rooftop and I catch a glimpse of the night scenery of Gangneung.

“Wow,” I utter a sigh in awe staring at the midnight blue sea in the distance. Dozens of shiny lights lie under the mountains. Even though I know they’re windows of houses it looks like the stars came down to earth and they’re dusting the valley with celestial grace. Like a red carpet made of stars leading to the water. The pale moonlight reflects on the snow providing spotlight and it feels like magic.

“I like high places. Whenever I feel uneasy I go to the top of a building,” Jimin admits breaking the silence with his melodious voice while he walks to where I stand and his gaze wanders at the map of constellations. I turn to him and shiver briefly as my arm brushes against his side.

“So tomorrow… oh, today is your big day, huh?” I correct myself upon realizing how late (or early depending on how you look at it) it is.

“Yeah, the short program,” he smiles faintly and looks down at me suddenly that catches me off guard. There’s no way he didn’t noticed me staring at him so I shyly bit on my lower lip. The cold wintery wind creeps under my skin and I shake a little. Jimin seems to catch sight of my silent suffering and shrugs off his own puffy coat. “Here take this,” he offers and covers my shoulders with his warmth.

“But what about you?” I furrows my eyebrows in worry. Under the upper layer he wears a turtleneck sweater that doesn’t seem enough in the chilly weather. I feel selfish but at the same time it feels good to have someone who cares about me earnestly. I bit on my tongue to hide my secret smile.

“I have a good immune system. I’m used to winters in Korea.”

“Thank you,” I murmur gratefully and bury my face deeply into the soft material as I pull it tighter around me. As I look at him, a part of me dares to hope that Jimin’s cheeks aren’t rosy-coloured just because of the cold and this time it’s me who shatters the glass armour of silence. “Are you nervous?”

“It would be a lie to say no,” Jimin admits almost vulnerable yet the corners of his mouth turn upward. “No matter how many times I performance before judges, the adrenalin is always the same. I can’t imagine anything else I’d rather do.”

Just how I feel. Whenever it’s hard and I’m stressed about it so much that I’m considering quitting, I realize that it’s my choice to be here and I want to do it as long as I can. I’m not doing it for fame or money, but because I enjoy the kiss of excitement every time I’m on ice. Thanks to a stroke of luck and hard work I’m fairly good in it, too.

“Do you have a goal today?” I ask curiously because I like to set a goal for myself, a score that I’d be satisfied with even if others are better than me.

“Nothing specific. I just want to run a good routine. I’m my own biggest competition but it’s good to have someone like Yuzuru to keep me going. Last time he beat me to it, so now I’m here to get the gold. And you?”

I let out a sigh as I lean against the edge of the rooftop. The sight of above still makes me speechless.

“I’m happy if I even place, this is my first Olympics after all.”

Of course, I’d like to be the best but I’m not that ambitious like my mother. I’m aware that there are dozens of talented skaters in the adult category even after Kim Yuna’s retirement. I’ve met them at various Championships and being my country’s number one, it doesn’t mean I can beat their experience.

Jimin hums sympathetically. It occurs me that maybe he knows how it feels.

“I was eighteen when I first entered the Olympics in Sochi. I don’t why I’m more nervous now that it’s in Korea this year,” he lets out a laugh lightly and slightly fidgety. After a quick calculation I come to the conclusion that he’s twenty-two now, three years older than me. Not that it matters concerning our life-style and nationalities. Even if there would be a chance, any chance for… something, age wouldn’t be the biggest problem.

“Doesn’t your family come to watch your performance?” I guess on instinct because it’s likely that their presence would make him nervous.

“Yeah, they do. Even Jihyun, he skips school for this.”

The way Jimin talks about this family with shining eyes I can tell how happy he’s that they come. His face lights up while he replies. Jihyun must be his younger brother he mentioned earlier. He must hold him close to his heart to think of him so dearly. If his entire family is so nice like him, I’d like to meet them one day.

“And what about you?” Jimin turns to me in a blink of an eye and I’m at loss of my words.

“Me?” I point to my chest in question because I don’t get the sudden change of topic.

“Yeah. Will you be there to cheer for me?” he leans forward still keeping an arm on the barrier. Yet, he’s so close that I can feel his minty breath on my face. So close that I don’t see anything but his pitch black, star-like eyes in which I could get lost. If I ever did that, please don’t bother to find me.

“Maybe,” I whisper with a sassy smile on my flushed face and I can’t look away. I want to make sure that despite my uncertain answer he knows he can take it as a yes. As he steps back with a pleased expression, I’ve no doubt about it: mission complete.

There’s a minute of silence while we’re watching the never sleeping sea and the darkening city above us. A part of me wishes we could stay like this forever: seeing everything but invisible for others. Especially, my mother.

“We should head back. It’s late,” Jimin speaks at last and we slowly descend to the 4th floor because he insists on escorting me to my room.

“Good night and good luck today,” I say barely above a whisper when we arrived in front of the door and I play with the hem of my too big sweater after handing him back his coat. The elegant skater just grins at me and I feel like melting.

“Sweet dream, Xianni.”

Oh, and sweet they are!

 I’m bouncing on my feet as soon as I wake up. My roommate has already left when my alarm wakes me up. Because of the men’s competition we can’t use the Ice Arena for the time being so there’s no routine practice for two days. I revise my choreography again and again, have a yoga lesson and check my training schedule for the week with mom. I arrange it so that my evenings are free and I can watch Jimin perform. Of course, I can’t tell this my mom because she won’t like it but I try to make it the least obvious:

“I can learn from men skaters as well, can’t I?” I plead with big doe eyes and despite the suspicion in her eyes, she’s going along with my plan. That’s how I end up fair and square in the athlete’s viewing area that night just before the competition starts.

They announce the competitors one by one and each short program is unique and stunning yet I can’t hear the names, I don’t care about the points until the emcee doesn’t call that one particular athlete whom I came for.

“Next up Jimin Park, representing South Korea, performing Showdown.”

I’m tapping my feet in excitement and bring my hands in fist to my mouth like those crossed-eyed, lovesick anime girls. I just hope it prevents me from screaming his name but the crowd has already gone crazy for him. I guess that’s natural if you’re native.

It starts with nerve-wrecking formalities while the announcer lists his records and Jimin does a warm-up round in silence and then finally, the music plays. The rhythm is quite upbeat but Jimin follows is precisely and gracefully. His elegant style attracts all eyes on him and once you’re under his spell, you can’t escape. At least, I can’t take my eyes off of him.

He has tight black trousers on with a silver striped v-neck shirt. It looks expensive, made of silk and the broad fabric hangs on him loosely. The dark colours compliments his skin tone and natural hair colour while it contrasts the white ice. He gives off an unearthly vibe like he was a young Greek hero escaping his millennium year long imprisonment. A god among humans. His whole show is so enchanting it can’t be described with words. His balance is rattling good, his movements are sharp and his technique is unquestionably brilliant, I can tell even from this distance. But most importantly, he draws people in. It’s not just ice skating, not just dancing, it’s a whole new level of art.

A part of me feels like crying when it ends because it’s too soon and I’m not ready to let this go. The camera shows a close-up of Jimin’s beaming smile and my heart swells with pride because he had nothing to worry about. He nailed it and I hope the judges think so too.

After finishing his routine, Jimin goes straight to the kiss and cry area where skaters have to wait for the points. Lee Taemin is with him patting his back and holding a water bottle for him but the younger refuses a little out of breath. As he prays with his palms pressed together I do the same and I glance back to forth between the screen and the judges’ panel.

“Jimin Park’s showed a flawless short program without mistake. Even his quadruple jump was perfect and he could move along with the high tempo song. As I see, we have the results! Oh, he has good points. The technical and component scores add up... 101.34!” The announcer exclaims loudly and audience claps in delight. I join in happily and I almost can’t hear the rest from the ‘Park. Ji. Min.’ chanting. “Now it’s the third best on the highest scores of all time for a short program according to International Skating Union. With this point, he’s leading for the time being but we still have his biggest rivals, Yuzuru Hanyu and Alexei Bychenko coming up.”

Jimin, who is in the place doomed to kissing or crying, looks on the verge of disbelief until his coach shakes and embraces him in a big hug. I get up while still clapping to get a better view. I’d like to get closer to the backstage to congratulate him but my steps halt soon. There’s already a huge crowd gathering around the leaving athlete: reporters, team members and so on, but I’m sure he hurries to his family and I wouldn’t want to be in the way.

I’ll congratulate him later.

 Day 5 - 14th February

Next day, it’s no news that Jimin won first place in the short program followed closely by the Japanese skater. I just can’t shut up about how perfect his performance was to my roommate and I can tell she’s had enough of me already.

Jimin’s probably busy with preparing for his free skating program and I don’t want to disturb or distract him so I keep myself busy too. Mom is impressed how enthusiastic I am all of a sudden. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always keen on practising and improving but before the Olympic season mom had her hopes high and demanded a lot more than I was capable of giving. But seeing Jimin doing absolute magic on ice made me feel like nothing is impossible.

Since I still can’t go to the arena where today’s competitors are practising, I get on a bus with mom and my routines’ choreographer to visit the closest city with an ice rink and I practice among children. It’s a different and fun experience and watching the kids play around makes my mother mood brighten up a little too. At the end, one of the skating instructors asks me in English after he struggled with Chinese to show something to his students and I gladly do so. The kids are so eager to learn and they’re rambling cheerfully in Korean after I finish. I don’t understand a word but their gleeful smiles tell me enough and I can’t say no when they ask for my autograph. They’re so cute.

After going back to Gangneung, eating and showering, it’s almost time for the free skating round to start. I almost race to the arena to save me a great spot in the first row but the VIP viewing area is seriously loaded with people. I’m seriously lost until I hear someone calling my name. My head snap to the soft voice’s direction.

“Hi. Jin, right?” I greet the blondish brown haired, broad shouldered guy as soon as I finally make my way through the packed place. The curling team member, if I remember correctly, is seated at one of the top benches but it gives a good view.

“Yes, hello Xianni. Did you come to watch Jimin?” Seokjin smiles at me curiously and pats the empty seat next to him when I nod. I sit down shyly and the guy grants me a pleased grin. “He’ll be happy. He’s talking about you non-stop.”

At that, I feel flush creeping up on my neck. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jin nods and pretends to be mad but the crinkles around his eyes betray him. “He whines like a child every chance he gets about not being able to text you. It’s cute but annoying.”

“Oh.”

I’m pretty sure my face could compete against heaters at this rate. I feel like burning almost if I was coming down with something. I hope it’s not the case because that would be a huge trouble. But on the other hand… which one is worse? Getting physically sick days before the competition or catching feelings for a practically stranger I’ve only known for less than a week?

“Do you have any messenger app? I can give you his ID,” the elder Korean guy offers and even though my brain keeps telling me to refuse politely, I can’t help but add Jimin to my contracts. That will do, I try to convince myself as I thank Jin bashfully. I have no idea what else to say but Fortuna and the announcer save me from any further embarrassment.

“Second day of men’s ice skating is coming right up. After yesterday’s short program performances Park and Hanyu are shoulder to shoulder to win. If nothing extraordinary happens the long program is going to decide the gold’s fate between these two.”

It’s stressful to watch the amazing shows each competitor puts on and just wait anxiously for Jimin to show up. Thanks to the success of yesterday’s performance, he’ll be the one to close the show right after his biggest opponents. I have to admit that Hanyu is an equally skilled skater and he runs a flawless routine. His high score secures his place on the podium and Jimin needs to achieve more than 210 points to win the gold. The pressure must be heavy on his shoulders but Korea’s representative sets foot on the ice confidently.

“Lastly, Jimin Park, representing South Korea, performing his long program, Lie.”

The emcee’s voice echoes in the arena and everyone waits in silence as the slim figure takes his place in the middle of the rink. This time, he wears coal black jeans with a tight dress shirt in the same colour and a vest with golden patterns. He legit looks like a prince from a manga and I’m already enchanted.

One heartbeat later the music starts. The song is a slow, sensual ballad. I have never heard it before but from the way Jimin moves as if he’s possessed, someone who’s ready to die on stage, it makes my heart ache in the best way possible. My mouth dries just by looking at him and I don’t dare to look away in fear of missing something. The seconds go by too quickly and I can feel my heart beating so hard and loudly it might deafen me. Then at some point of the routine the music quiets down, takes a short break but I guess it must be the bridge part in the song because Jimin also slows down and takes out a red scarf under his vest like a magician. It’s a little unusual to use a prompt while skating but before I can question what he’s doing, he shocks the whole audience.

“Am I seeing it right?” The emcee asks in a hysterical voice. “Is he going to put on that scarf as a blindfold? He is! First in the history of Olympics ever Jimin Park is going to perform with his eyes blinded!”

The crowd goes nuts and roars. Jimin has already put on the red blindfold and continue skating naturally. Just by looking at it, the sight makes my insides flapped. Oh my god, I can’t even imagine performing with such a noise around me in pitch darkness. Everyone stares at him in awe while he gracefully spins and jumps as if the blindfold didn’t make any difference. The free program’s four and half minute passes like moments and then there’s him in the middle of the rink taking off the scarf and bowing with a satisfied lazy smirk on his face.

I haven’t even realised I held back my breath until I release it. I can still feel my erratic heartbeat drumming in my ears as I clap and watch him retreat to the kiss and cry area where his coach hugs him tightly and they both laugh.

“Oh... that kid. I’ll kill him. He nearly gave me a heart-attack,” Jin sighs beside me but I can tell he’s just as proud as me.

When the results are finally shown after the torturous waiting I don’t know if I scream or just jump off my seat but I don’t even care. I can’t because even with two minus deduction points that he got for his balance problems towards the end, he still he did it! He got 218.76 points which means his combined score is 320.1, higher than any other contestants’ score. That means gold and nothing compares to his face in disbelief when he realises this. Suddenly everyone, athletes and staff members around him, congratulate him while he has tears in his eyes and a toothy grin plastered on his face. Yet, the most heart-warming moment that’s caught on camera is Jimin hugging Yuzuru backstage and they pat on each other’s shoulders like friends. Even though he didn’t break Hanyu’s world record he’s flooded by reporters as soon as he steps out of the VIP area.

No matter how much I’d like to congratulate him face to face I know now is not the time and I’m okay with that. It’s his time to shine after all. So I settle with a simple but direct message with heartfelt words and cute stickers: CONGRATULATIONS! You totally deserved it! I’m still speechless.

Two hours later when I’m ready to go to bed (surprisingly early compared to the last days), my phone vibrates. The screen displays a series of short messages:

Thank you \o/

Will you meet me?

On the rooftop at midnight?

And let’s be honest: who could say no to that?

 Day 6 - 15th February

After changing into something more presentable than my pyjamas, I’ve waited restlessly for the agreed time to come. So when the clock hits midnight, I’m on my feet right away. This time the cold doesn’t faze me because I learned from my previous mistake and have multiple layers on.

When I arrive at our meeting place, Jimin is already there leaning over the fence in casual clothes and a training coat. I take a moment to appreciate his stunning looks while he isn’t aware of me watching. His skin glows under the moonlight and his side profile has dangerously cutting edges from this angle. I wonder how a simple smile can transform this royal appearance into a soft boyish one. What’s more: how can he look so effortlessly good in a puffy winter jacket when every time I wear something similar I feel chubby and self-conscious?

“Congratulations, Mr. Gold. How does it feel?” I step out of the shadows and the door slams shut behind me with a click. The nickname rolls off my tongue mindlessly but Jimin doesn’t seem to mind. Joy is radiating on his face when he turns to me and my legs turn to jelly with every step I take closer to him.

“I still can’t believe it. It will be hard to top this next time,” he chuckles without taking his eyes off of me and I can’t find it in me to look away. I think I’m becoming such a sucker for his eye smile because every single time I see it, my heart does this weird little thing with rapid thump, thump, thump.

I gulp visibly and shove him on the shoulder to wipe away that characteristic grin from his face. “Are you insane? A blindfold? What kind of idea was that?”

The heaven’s bells tinkle when Jimin laughs light-heartedly.

“Well, it’s kind of a funny story,” he admits while his fingers are thrumming on the cold brick barrier. “I’ve done this routine hundreds of times and I jokingly said once that I could probably do it with my eyes closed. Then Taemin made a deal with me to treat me to a feast with lots of meat if I can actually do it. So I did. I lost my balance and I made a lot of mistakes at my first try but he still treated me and said that we could make history.”

“Still, that was dangerous.”

Jimin’s glossy jet black eyes shine mischievously.

“Were you worried about me?” he asks playfully and I scrunch my nose.

“Maybe.”

We don’t talk much, we don’t need to. He takes a breather between two hectic days and I’m just here beside him. His presence is more than enough.

“You’ve had a long day and there’s one ahead of you as well. You should sleep,” I suggest half-heartedly after prolonged minutes. I don’t want to leave our secret little place but we both need rest. Especially him.

“Yeah, probably. I have tons of interviews today and we’re celebrating with my family before they head back home.”

“Then have a good time!” I say it earnestly without any grunge. It’s natural that he can’t spend the day with me. We rarely saw each other in the past days but we are merely acquaintances made in the sea of Olympics. Our time together is limited anyway.

“Thanks. And you…” Jimin looks at me fondly, mirroring stars in his pupils. For a second, I think he has something to tell me but it’s gone too quickly with a twitch of lips. “Take care!”

“I will.”

And I do as I promised when my training is set back to its original tough schedule from that morning. I have to work harder from now on since the ladies’ short program is only 4 days away.

 Day 7 - 16th February

 It becomes a habit without settling anything concret.

We can’t see each other during the day because of our schedules but we meet up at midnight. Next day, Jimin comes prepares: he brings two folding chairs and blankets so we can talk while comfortably lying down.

“First, I was into dancing. I liked the rhythm and moving to it. They said I had talent for it but then I saw figure skating on a television program and fell in love with it.”

From the way he talks about it anybody could tell that Park Jimin is really passionate about his profession. Like it’s not just a job that he chose but something more special that chose him. As if it was written in the stars.

“Ice skating isn’t a popular sport where I grew up but I really wanted to do it and my parents supported me from the beginning. I was sixteen when I met Taemin and he immediately took me under his wings. When his competitive skating career ended, he became my coach.”

Listening to his struggles and breakdowns when he wanted to quit makes me realise that he’s not a prodigy like everyone makes him to be after his last performance. He’s a human who worked really hard for this. He’s just like any of us but he sacrifices even more time and effort to make it work. He just did it but he isn’t satisfied, he still wants to aim higher. I find this kind of attitude admirable.

“Gangneung actually reminds me of my hometown except the snow,” he suddenly blurts out and I have the urge to ask:

“Where are you from?”

I know I can easily ask around or search it up online but that feels immoral. I want to get to know him in person since I’m lucky enough to have the chance. I enjoy listening to his stories no matter what they are about.

“Busan. It’s a city by the ocean.”

“It must be beautiful.”

I live far from any beach; I rarely have the chance to see one. Maybe that’s why I love Gangneung. The salty water and the melody of waves are part of the city’s peculiar atmosphere.

“It is. Especially in summer when the sun sets,” Jimin agrees quickly and I can tell he has a strong liking for his hometown. His description makes me crave sparkling, warm summers and Korean, sandy beaches.

“I’ll make sure to go there for vacation one day.”

“I will wait for you,” he says carelessly yet so confidently without missing a beat that a blush paints my cheeks pink while his are dimpled.

His words echo in my ears the whole day.

 Day 8 - 17th February

The days blur in my mind as the count-down starts. Two days have never felt so short before. Yet, I’d never give up on Jimin's company… until I eventually have to. It’s after one of our midnight stargazing meet-ups when he walks me to my room like the gentleman he is. However, this time despite the quiet hallway, it’s not empty. My mother stands in front of my door mindlessly scrolling on her phone, obviously waiting for something… or someone. Most probably me. I gulp nervously, quickly turning on my heels, pulling Jimin back to the elevator with me and I push a random number on the button plate.

“Mom is there,” I explain hastily, with my breath caught in my throat and I feel like a coward teenager hiding from the parents after the first drunk night.

“Why is she up so late?” Jimin wonders with his mouth agape and his tone is regretful. I sincerely hope he doesn’t blame himself for anything. If I got myself in trouble, he has nothing to do with it. Although he’s the reason why I smile.

“I guess she came to check up on me,” I shrug while the lump forming in my throat is ready to choke me and my heart aches as if someone was clutching it in their fists.

“Oh… I can speak with her. Tell her that it was my idea and...”

There’s a line between Jimin’s eyebrows and he’s so freaking cute when he’s thinking hard about something with that frown on his face. But my favourite feature about him right now is the genuine worry swimming in his deep ocean eyes. His caring side makes me weak.

“No!” I protest way too quickly and feverishly but I really don’t think that it will work. Even if he’s taking the blame for staying up late, I still have to face the consequences of hanging out with a boy, none other than the Korean team’s new star. “I’ll have to do it alone.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I can...” Jimin doesn’t seem convinced and he’s tapping his foot like he can’t stand still but I nod confidently.

“I’m sure. Thank you, though.”

A grateful smile sprays on my face as the elevator pings when we arrive at the ground floor. The door opens and closes but neither of us moves an inch. Eventually, Jimin’s eyes soften and his sniff shoulders go lax.

“I hope you won't get in trouble,” he presses the number four and I can only pray Me, too. It doesn't take more than a minute and we’re back on my floor. The point of no return. Secretly I still hope that mom left in the meantime but to be realistic I know what’ll come. I deserve the punishment whatever it may be since I broke the curfew and kept secrets behind her back.

“Hey,” Jimin half-whispers and keeps on tug at the hem of my sweater. My gaze drops on him and his pleading eyes. “Text me, ok?”

“Okay,” I nod without giving it much thought. It's almost scary how ordinary it became: texting him right away when something happens may it be good or bad.

The last thing I see before that metal door closes is a reassuring smile that feels like a calming gel on my itching, sunburnt skin or a medicinal cream on my invisible wounds scratched by my own stupidity. He’s the healing potion to my heart pains. But without him the weight on my shoulders is almost too much.

“Hi mom,” I approach the comfortable clothed woman and keep my gaze on the floor. I don’t dare to look up in fear of seeing her disappointment.

Some sort of shame rushes over me because I became exactly that kind of girl I’ve never wanted to be. Someone who changes because of a boy. Someone who chooses a stranger over her own family. Still, regret wasn’t on the list of the trillion emotions playing inside of me right now. Jimin never forced me into anything, he helped me spreading my wings and finding out what freedom tastes like. Without him, the Winter Olympics would be just another competition with endless practices, heavy stress and the thrill of performing.

“Did you have fun at least?” mother speaks up after a pang of silence and she sounds genuinely interested. Her sarcasm only bit into me when my gaze snaps up to her in a dumbfounded manner. “With that boy again?”

“It’s not like that mom...” I shake my head but she doesn’t want to hear my excuses.

“Your roommate told me you always disappear late at night and come back at the crack of dawn. Do you sleep at all?”

“Of course. I’m fine, mom. I sleep 6-7 hours just not all at once.” I usually take a two hours long nap after the late-night practice and showering but before midnight and I go back to sleep around two or three o'clock depending on how talkative we are. This way I still have enough time to rest until I have to go in the morning.

“Still, it’s irregular and you have to give your best in two days. I want you to be in top shape and being sleep deprived won’t help you,” mom sighs and gives me a firm look.

Please don’t push me too hard! Don’t make me hate it. Because I love ice skating, I love competing but I need something normal in my life, too. My insides are crying out loud and I’m standing there still waiting for more to come but nothing happens. She’s only staring at me with that typical parent expression when her brain thinks that exact thing. Yes, that thing, the I still remember holding you in my arms and crying about cartoons, when did you grow up so fast?

I blink.

“That’s it? Won’t you yell at me?”

“You want me to?” she raises an eyebrow asking as if it was a challenge.

“No, not at all. I just thought you’d be more angry,” I admit relieved and my stomach ache lessens.

“To be honest, I don’t care if you hang out with Park Jimin but only after the competition. Until then I must ask him to respect your packed schedule and leave you alone. Except if he has some useful advice to give.”

My jaw drops as my mother talks about Jimin. She even knows his name! I get the feeling she secretly became his fan after the blindfold performance. But truth to be told: who didn’t? The video of the routine went viral on the Internet and has millions of views already. That’s the topic everyone’s talking about worldwide, noted as the most stunning event of this year’s Olympics so far and Jimin rapidly became celebrity famous. Yet, he’s still shy and humble about it.

Are you okay? Tell me you didn’t get into trouble. Jimin texts me and even inserts a praying emoji that makes me smile. I reply immediately after we say good night with mom and I glare at my roommate for telling on me. Thank god, mom was pretty chill after I agreed to her conditions.

No, not really. She just wants us to stop meeting at ungodly hours until my competition.

And we do stop but she didn’t say anything about messages. Thanks to those cute messages I get with a ping I can bear with my mother’s crazier than ever nagging about practising all the time. Soon, texting him becomes the highlight of my day and my source of reassurance in this beautiful havoc.

 Day 10 - 19th February

The day has come and I’m more nervous than ever.

“I can’t wait to see you on ice,” Jimin grins at me all of a sudden and I roll my eyes in frustration. He doesn’t help. At all.

“You have seen me practice,” I point out and poke him in the chest. He shouldn’t even be here, he sneaked in against the rules because he was simply bored. Nobody dared to tell him to leave because honestly who would oppose the gold-winner phenomenon? Even my mom gave up after a firm glare.

“That’s not the same and you know it,” Jimin pouts and the mischievous glint in his eyes gives him away. Suddenly only one thing comes to my mind that could make a difference.

“Oh, let me guess: the dress?”

“Not just that.” he snorts but I can see the faint marks of a blush bright as the Sun on his cheeks. I find it cute that I have such an effect on him.

To be honest, the least he’s seen me in was the clothes I wore at the opening party where we’ve met. Other than that I mostly wear tracksuits, sweater and fluffy coats. My almost revealing black costume decorated with colourful sequins and glitter is definitely on another level and I kind of hope that I could impress him at least a little bit.

“Sorry in advance but my routine will be boring after your jaw-dropping performance.”

That’s why a part of me hopes that he doesn’t have high expectations because I’m not sure I could live up to them. However, since I have a fairy concept it’s my goal to put the audience, including him, under a spell.

“Tsk,” Jimin clicks his tongue in annoyance at that and his smile makes my heart flutter. “Let me be the judge of that.”

I turn crimson as I go back to skating well aware of his eyes on me.

 “Next up Xianni Xu, from China, performing River flows in you,” a feminine voice blares from the speakers a few hours later but it seems like a lifetime passed since we laughed around freely with Jimin at the side-line.

I can feel knots in my stomach while I slide into position on the ice.  The usual stage fright. It’s always the worst moments before stepping on ice. As soon as the music starts, it's gone, replaced by adrenaline rushing through my veins and it stirs me up. I give myself into the passion and I no longer skate but fly higher and higher like it’s magic. My short program’s theme revolves around self-discovery and has a well-built story-arc full of melancholic moments, prolonged movements and charming gestures. Yet, it ends too soon, I feel like I have barely even started.

While I stand in my final pose with straight back and see people who rose to their feet to clap for me, I’d like to capture the moment to remind me of this feeling. Of why I’m doing this. I bow deeply and leave the ice with the thought: not my best but I can always try to do better tomorrow.

 Day 11 - 20th February

On the day of the long program I break down crying after practice because during yesterday's performance I hurt my ankle. I didn’t even notice it until I had to put on the ice skates this morning but now it’s swollen and covered with red-purple spots. I put minty cream on it and take painkillers instead of an actual lunch. I can’t believe I messed up so bad this close to the goal.

“It's okay. Shh... it's okay,” mom keeps telling me like a mantra and rubs my back gently to calm me down. “You just have to performance the three and half minutes once. Can you do that?”

The question I hoped she would never ask was presented to me and I know I have to choose. I’m sure mom wouldn’t force me to do it against my will if I said no. She wants me to have a long career and not one Olympic Gold with a messed up ankle.

“I can,” I hiccup. I've endured worse pain before, I can do it, I try to convince myself but it’s not really working. I couldn’t breathe properly, the guilt suffocated me and I was on the verge of crying again.

“Xianni... you don't have to do it. No matter how you do whether you’ll be last or first, I’m proud of you,” mom says as I shake my head sobbing. Last time I wasn’t good enough to qualify; now I’m on the short-list for a sparkling medal and I’d like to give it a try. I’d like to prove to her and myself.

So we roll bandage around my ankle after applying a ton of alleviative fluid and I rest it for a while which seems like the worst idea once I stand up but I can’t overwork myself. The doctor also says I’ll need immediate medical help after performing my routine.

Even though we don’t tell anyone about it, gossips are spreading here quickly like a virus and an hour before the long program I get a message from Jimin. Just a simple I hope you're okay. You can do it. but it means a whole lot more. I gives me strength and hope. Yeah, he’s right. I can do it!

And I do. When my name is called I slide across the ice confidently throwing smiles here and there. I let the music and my passion towards skating sooth the pain and on my cue I set off a slow, elegant pace. I bless Yixing for the choreography’s natural flow and I get lost in it easily, just like when you fall asleep under warm blankets during cold winter nights. Luckily my triple axel triple toe at the highlight part puts pressure on my good leg so I’m able to finish my routine with wowing the judges and apparently, the audience.

I tear up when I glide off the ice and see my mother’s touched and impressed face. She squeezes me tightly in her arms as soon as I step on the carpeted floor. Whatever happens, I’m satisfied with myself. I finished my routine neatly and just the way I wanted. I’m so over the top because of this relieved feeling I almost miss the announcement of my score. I just hug my mother in the kiss and cry area and we let the happy tears roll down when eventually 3rd place appears beside my name on the scoreboard.

As I stand there with a bronze medal around my neck and a flower bouquet in my hand, I only search for one face in the crowd. When I finally find his beaming eye smile and clapping figure I wave happily into his direction and chuckle lightly when one of his friends, Hoseok I think, makes a show of waving me back. This must be one of the most beautiful moments of my life and I’m sure I’ll remember this feeling for a long time.

 “So what’s your story?” Jimin asks later that night while we’re stargazing. It’s the same question I brought up after he won gold. It’s only fair to answer him now. I don’t really have anything to hide from him anyway.

“I was on ice as soon as I learned how to walk. That’s my second home. Or my first depending on how much time I spend there,” I let out a breathy sigh as I acknowledge the facts. When it’s competition season, I barely go home, I only sleep there and I’m lucky to have mom who takes me home, otherwise I could sleep on the changing room’s bench because sometimes I’m even too tired to move after 4-6-8 hours of practising and off-ice training.

“You mother seems pretty strict.”

I hum in agreement. I get that a lot and I’m not even surprised anymore, she really is demanding but I’m used to it by now. It’s been long since I wondered why she’s like this.

“I think she’s trying to prove something but I’m all she has so I don’t want to disappoint her.” The confession feels heavy on my tongue, I’ve never said it out loud and it somewhat makes it more true. The proof for my compulsion to conform. It’s weird, I note to myself. I’m not ashamed of it (of who I am) in front of Jimin. I know for sure he won’t judge or misunderstand me. “Dad divorced her when I was eight. He said she’s obsessed with ice skating. Maybe he was right.”

Occasionally I get birthday cards, money and a congrats but I rarely see my father. There’s this throbbing ache in my chest that resembles of missing someone but when the three of us is together, we always end up arguing and I’m tired of being the mediator. Two grown-up adults and they act like children. I can’t stand it so it’s maybe better this way. Just me, mom and figure skating.

“Aren’t you close with her?” Jimin wonders out loud and I don’t blame him. My relationship with my mother is rather complicated.

“We were pretty close when I was younger but when things got serious, she started acting more like my coach than my mother,” I chew on my lips nervously on my bottom lip while talking. It feels so goddamn fine to finally able to talk about it with someone. Before I had nobody who’d listen to my nonsense or whom I’d trust enough to let into one of my secrets. The only constant thing in my life is mom and I can’t talk with her about this. “Whenever I’m with someone she thinks I will give up on skating and stuff like that.”

It’s a loud silence: so quiet, you can hear the ocean from afar and the heartbeats if you listen closely. I can feel Jimin’s eyes on me and when I look up they are there when I hoped them to be: focused on me.

“She cares about you,” he says softly, comforting. I can almost feel his words wrap me up in a warm blanket and soothing calming melodies.

“I know and I know she just doesn’t want me to repeat her mistake.” The fist around my heart clenches harder. The possibility has always been so absurd to me but lately… everything changes. “She would never say it out loud but I know sometimes she regrets having me. If she didn’t get pregnant so young she could have been an Olympic medallist. That’s why it’s so important to her.”

I can still see her happy tears and feel her bone-crushing hug when I got my score that determined my place. My Olympic bronze medal.

“You did it. You made her proud,” Jimin reminds me and he looks at me like he stares at the stars. Like I was something beautiful yet out-of-reach.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“And me, too. I’m proud of you,” he blurts out without warning and my heart skips a beat. I have to shift away my gaze from his intense glare.

I can’t deal with him and his sweet words right now. I’m already melting like cheap vanilla ice cream from the corner shop in the terrible heat of summer. My heart is sizzling like sugar in steaming hot oil just before caramelisation. I’m afraid of burning myself if I get too close and I know that I should stop before it’s too late. But instead I inch closer.

[realestate63141]

Beers and Bonfires: The 10 U.S. Cities Where Backyard Shindigs Reign Supreme

vgajic/iStock

Our backyards do far more each summer than just provide a place for the kids to splash or the adults to burn—in many ways, they define us. A luxe hot tub and cozy palapa? You probably dig intimate warm-weather get-togethers. A well-worn Slip ’n Slide, military-grade Super Soaker, and a great big trampoline? You’re the veteran host of more kiddie soirées than you’d like to recount. A fully appointed outdoor kitchen with built-in Alfresco ALX triple-burner gas grill, generating an eyebrow-searing 82,000 BTUs? You obsess over elaborate al fresco gourmet dinner parties even more than you do binge-watching the Food Network. 

All of the above? You love throwing the best darn backyard parties anyone has ever seen.

With the Fourth of July right around the corner, and the dog days of summer still to come, it’s the prime time to appreciate all the cool features that make outdoor living so appealing. When the weather warms, homeowners start to think—often—about how they can make the most of whatever outdoor space they’ve got.

But as we all know, not all summer shindigs are created equal. To find out where you’re likely to attend (and throw) the best blowouts this season, our data team vetted 350 metropolitan areas across the United States. The metros with spacious lot sizes, cool outdoor home features (like tiki bars!), and plenty of sunny days stood out.

“We are seeing more people than ever really investing in the backyard living,” says Chuck Bowen, editor of Lawn & Landscape Magazine. The most popular ways to pimp out a backyard? Patios and decks, and also high-end features like big-screen TVs and amazing sound systems centered around outdoor cooking spaces.

“People these days are really getting a lot of enjoyment out of taking their normal patio grill to the next level,” Bowen says. “They are turning backyards into a fantastic space to have family, friends, and colleagues over.”

To come up with the best places for outdoor bashes, we looked at:

Median lot size of single-family homes listed on realtor.com

Percentage of homes that have lots of fun outdoor features, including tiki bars, outdoor kitchens, patios, decks, hot tubs, pools, and fountains and ponds, from realtor.com®

Sales of outdoor summer goods like grills, pool floats, meat smokers, outdoor dining sets, outdoor bars, chaise longues, hammocks and lawn games from the home goods company Wayfair.com.

Average number of sunny days, from Sperling’s Best Places

Ready? Let’s party! We’ll bring the chilled X.Q. Añejo, you bring the limes.

1. Sarasota, FL

Median home price: $360,000

Median lot size: 7,930 square feet

Number of sunny days: 252

A nice patio area in Sarasota, if you can afford it.

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Tourists in Sarasota, known as Florida’s Cultural Coast, are known to live it up on the beach or in downtown theaters and art galleries. But local residents in search of a good time need head no farther than their own backyards. From Mediterranean mansions to old-Florida cottages, Sarasota has its share of spacious homes that are designed for maximum backyard recreation.

Swimming pools are a no-brainer—nearly half the area’s homes have one. But Sarasotans also enjoy whirlpool spas, private boat docks, and, yes, tiki bars. Gazebos with high ceilings or cabanas are also common, so al fresco diners can catch some sea breezes while they eat.

The best part? The mild Florida weather means that backyard living can be all year round.

2. Napa, CA

Median home price: $837,000

Median lot size: 8,000 square feet

Number of sunny days: 260

Patio in Napa, CA

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It’s a beautiful life, basking on a sundeck in your own yard, sipping wine bottled just a mile or two away.

In California’s most famous wine region, rolling vineyards share the landscape with sprawling ranches. If you’ve got money to spare, you might even be interested in buying your own winery, with acres of hills stitched with rows of neatly trained vines—an unbeatable location for hosting sparkling wine parties and summer soirées. And you needn’t kill yourself whipping up fresh canapés—plenty of world-class restaurants nearby offer catering services to add a dose of elegance to your party.

Across the valley, European country villas and Victorian-era homes also come with huge backyards surrounded by lush redwood trees. Along the Napa River, homes are equipped with private docks linking backyards directly to the water. Boat parties, anyone?

3. Barnstable, MA

Median home price: $553,000

Median lot size: 16,500 square feet

Number of sunny days: 201

With its beautiful sandy beaches, Cape Cod has long been a favored summer vacation destination for Bostonians and other landlocked Northeastern urbanites. And laid-back Barnstable is the largest town on the Cape. Families with kids seeking calm waters flock to the peninsula’s quieter north side, while party lovers favor lively towns like Falmouth or Provincetown.

Life on the coast means spending more time outside in the warm-weather months. Most of the area’s homes, which range from rustic cottages to modernist houses, set aside room for backyard living. After all, an open-air deck with a roaring fire pit is pretty much the perfect spot for friends to gather after a day on the beach. Or you could have a waterside deck with a front-row seat on the vista of endless blue water and sky, equally suited to enjoying happy-hour cocktails or morning java.

4. Charlottesville, VA

Median home price: $395,000

Median lot size: 16,000 square feet

Number of sunny days: 219

Enjoy changing of the seasons with a patio view in Chartlottesville.

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At the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains in the Virginia countryside, Charlottesville offers a peaceful escape from hectic city life. Grand country homes dot the rolling hills surrounding downtown, many of which sit on at least a half-acre lot, with plenty of room to get a toasty tan.

Bonus: Southern barbecue is best enjoyed outdoors. So whether you’re a beginning griller or an Iron Chef, it’s almost standard here to have a built-in grill in the backyard (or even a full-on outdoor kitchen) for summer cook-offs. Few things say backyard party quite like grilled baby back ribs with cornbread and coleslaw and a glass of local Pinot.

5. Daytona Beach, FL

Median home price: $280,000

Median lot size: 10,000 square feet

Number of sunny days: 227

Yes, you’ve seen all the Spring Break antics on TV. But truth is, Daytona Beach works hard to please kids of all ages, with its international speedway and a myriad of beach activities. And even with all that extracurricular excess, it turns out that some of the best parties are thrown in locals’ own homes.

With Daytona Beach’s real estate still recovering from the housing crash, buyers can score a single-family home with a great big backyard at a relatively teeny price. Homes in these parts are usually designed with swimming pools and hot tubs for year-round pool parties.

Whether you need floating water orbs or two-story inflatable water slides, the well-equipped local party rental companies have you covered. You could even score a professional mermaid to splash in your pool, or a pony for a kids’ party.

6. Los Angeles, CA

Median home price: $727,000

Median lot size: 7,100 square feet

Number of sunny days: 284

LA living: Real pool, fake grass.

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Back in the early ’90s, Latino DJs were the first in Los Angeles to catch on to the new trend of electronic dance music, spinning techno tunes at afternoon backyard parties in East L.A. frequented by kids cutting high school.

Today, whether it’s behind a humble cottage in hipster Echo Park or a modernist mansion in the Hollywood Hills, a backyard in Los Angeles is still always the ideal place for a party. And Angelenos get creative in backyard entertaining, from yoga parties to taco-truck nights. In a city in love with cinema, the SoCal summer nights are ideal for ditching indoor screens, spreading out some blankets, and enjoying films outdoors, against the twilight sky. It’s not at all unusual these days to come across homes that have an outdoor movie screen.

7. Brunswick, GA

Median home price: $357,000

Median lot size: 9,200 square feet

Number of sunny days: 220

Located on the Atlantic coast of Georgia, Brunswick is a historic town with plenty of Southern charm. On the waterfront, homes are designed with breezy patios or porches with endless vistas of marsh grasses and blue-gray waters. In the suburbs, the housing stock is mostly ranch-style homes and occasionally plantation-style mansions, with the sprawling land that comes with them.

The hot, humid summer in the South invites people to spend time outdoors after sunset. From pool parties, to barbecue cook-offs, to crawfish boils—in season between late spring and early summer—backyard parties go on all season long. Yes, it’s hot. But there are considerably worse ways to to beat the heat than sitting on the porch with a pitcher of iced sweet tea or a Frozen Peach Bourbon Mule.

8. Santa Fe, NM

Median home price: $550,000

Median lot size: 8,600 square feet

Number of sunny days: 283

Back patio in Santa Fe, NM

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This artsy, bohemian New Mexican city is blessed with more than nine months of sunshine, right up there with L.A., so it’s not likely to rain on your parade—or your backyard party. To cope with the desert heat, thick-walled Pueblo Revival homes are found throughout the region that often include a sheltered courtyard or patio, and sometimes an outdoor kiva fireplace. This type of architecture speaks to a long tradition of incorporating the outdoors into relaxing and entertaining activities.

The casual backyard lifestyle extends to the many ranch-style haciendas with room for equestrian activities or stucco homes that boast desert landscape gardens. On Santa Fe’s Canyon Road, a world-famous art district, you’ll come across backyards decorated with crazy sculptures and colorful artworks, which also serve as event space for art shows, pottery, and craft parties.

9. Bridgeport, CT

Median home price: $725,000

Median lot size: 17,500 square feet

Number of sunny days: 175

On the Connecticut coast, the Bridgeport metro area of Fairfield County is home to some of the wealthiest enclaves in the country—from the cluster of hedge-fund homes in Old Greenwich to the yachts idling in Westport’s boat basin. Palatial abodes with enormous gardens abound throughout the area, and homeowners compete with neighbors for the most lavish swimming pool or the best manicured landscape.

Wall Street titans and C-suite executives spend generous end-of-year cash bonuses on Gatsby-style summer bashes. Now, how can we score an invite?

10. Flagstaff, AZ

Median home price: $380,000

Median outdoor space: 7,900 square feet

Number of sunny days: 266

While most of Arizona is baking in the desert, Flagstaff is able to escape 90-degree summers, as it sits at the base of the San Francisco Peaks, surrounded by ponderosa pine forests. Offering crisp mountain air, cool and sunny days, Flagstaff is a natural playground for backyard-living enthusiasts.

The median home price is reasonable, and plenty of homes have one-acre lots. Nestled in the forests are wood cabins with swing sets and barbecue grills on the backyard decks—perfect for summer bashes. The homes situated on the plain have unobstructed views of the mountains.

How about a stargazing party? Flagstaff is the first “International Dark Sky City,” thanks to local efforts to reduce light pollution.

The post Beers and Bonfires: The 10 U.S. Cities Where Backyard Shindigs Reign Supreme appeared first on Real Estate News & Insights | realtor.com®.

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