#WHAT DO U MEAN REMAKE AGAIN??

[caelcstis]

my reading and comprehension skills are AWFUL today i guess holy shIT idk if it's a smart idea for me to make starters lMAO

[braskide]

outofcharacter. happy 22nd final fantasy x anniversary!!!! ! !! !! please think about her today.

i will be revamping my guidelines and whatnot because i miss interacting with the dashboard and writing her — i have resumed writing yuna over discord with friends lately so i wanted to go look for my old mutuals, so if i found you and you’re reading this don’t forget you’re here forever.

apropos of what i just mentioned i also want to reach out with new muses, thank you for being here!! ! you can [ like ] this post and i’ll come drop her in your askbox.

[stllmnstr]

every fragile thing

pairing: park sunghoon x f reader

genre: enemies to lovers, figure skating au, college/university au

word count: 12.3k

warnings: alcohol consumption, jealousy, non graphic descriptions/depictions of injuries, use of the american (usa) university system, a kiss or five

soundtrack: get him back! / brutal / jealousy, jealousy / good 4 u / the grudge / bad idea right? / drivers license - olivia rodrigo

After an ankle injury lands you in mandated physical therapy sessions instead of on the ice where you should be training for nationals, you're absolutely certain you must be the most frustrated, emotionally volatile figure skater on the planet. Park Sunghoon proves you wrong.

or,

every fragile thing has one of two choices: become stronger or shatter into a million pieces.

note: hi hello yes this is me on a new blog with the same name. I deleted my old one and wasn't sure if I planned on remaking/reposting but here we are! if you've read this before, then I hope you enjoy just as much this time around. and if you haven't, I hope you love figure skater sunghoon just as much as I do! happy reading ♡

Silence. One word, two syllables. A fairly straightforward term with a meaning that can be easily deduced from a quick scan of its Merriam-Webster definition. 

But unlike many words, silence is one that’s typically learned through experience. Through stilted moments, pregnant pauses, dreamlike moments in the dead of night while the world around you is at a standstill. 

In the moments just before the music starts, when it feels as if the audience around you is holding their breath. And you stand at the center of it all, blades of your tightly laced skates against ice, chest rising and falling in time with your heartbeat, mind spinning with possibility. In those moments, your long trained muscles take over, following the memory of countless repetitions as your body prepares to do what it knows best. 

There’s a question in that silence. One that’s asked with baited breath. 

Will I land this skill? Will I go home with a medal around my neck, cold weight a familiar comfort against my skin? Will this be my best performance yet? Will they love it? Love me?

That, as you’ve come to learn, is your favorite kind of silence. The kind that’s filled with endless possibility, with the promise of something beautiful or disastrous or some odd mix of the two to come. 

The feeling of freedom, of flying as blade cuts through ice, as your body defies gravity with every jump, every spin. 

But that is very much not the kind of silence that greets you where Dr. Min eyes you warily over the top of his pristine clipboard, a crease forming between his dark eyebrows. Frowning, he glances at the paper once more before returning his gaze to you. 

“You’re sure you’ve been resting? No weight on the fracture at all?”

It takes a good chunk of your willpower not to roll your eyes. Mostly because you’re lying through your teeth, but who’s keeping track? 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Gesturing to the thick black boot the lower part of your left leg and foot have been imprisoned in for the better part of a month, you add, “This thing’s still coming off in two weeks, right?”

Two weeks is pushing it, but you’ve done more with less. Two weeks puts you exactly three months out from regionals, which gives you exactly ninety-one days to pull together the most jaw dropping program you or the judges have ever seen. One that’s certain to land you on the podium and secure a spot at nationals. 

Once again, you thank your lucky stars for Coach Lee. She’s been with you since you were still struggling to lace your own skates, and there’s no one else you’d trust to have you ready for regionals in such a short time frame. No one else you’d bet your fate on like this. 

“That was our original time frame, yes…” Dr. Min trails off, avoiding your gaze in a way that has your stomach dropping unpleasantly. 

“And we’ll be sticking to it, I’m sure.” You hate the way the end of your phrase turns up like a question. 

Dr. Min sighs. “Look, ___, our original time frame was ambitious to begin with, and I hate to tell you this, but your ankle is not healing as well as we’d hoped. Fractures don’t heal overnight, and the best thing for you right now is rest.” 

The argument is already forming on your tongue. “But—”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not trying to ruin your life, ___. Truly. I’m saying this to you as the parent of an athlete and a former athlete myself. Pushing yourself now will only lead to reinjury in the future and will also very likely shorten your career. Your ankle needs to heal before you skate on it again. It needs to heal before you so much as put weight on it. And you need to let it heal completely.” The sincerity in his voice is hard to stomach when he says, “Believe me when I tell you that you’ll regret it for the rest of life if you don’t.”

And logically, you know he’s right. Know that this will be nothing but a minor setback if you allow it to run its course. If you follow his advice to rest and heal. But skating has never been something you’ve done with the logical parts of yourself. And Dr. Min doesn’t get it. You tell him as much. “You don’t understand what you’re asking me to do. Regionals are in less than four months, and—”

“I hear you. Believe me, I do. But this is your third year of university, which means you have another shot at nationals next year. If you push it and try to skate before you’re ready, you may very well lose that chance too.”

“So I’m supposed to do what? Sit around and do nothing until my ankle decides to cooperate?” Even voicing the possibility has you suppressing a grimace. 

But Dr. Min has different thoughts. “Yes. That is exactly what you need to do.”

You don’t avert your gaze. Neither does he. Finally, after a moment, he sighs. “My recommendation at this point is still rest, but—”

“But?” Your excitement is impossible to contain fully. 

Dr. Min levels you with a cautionary look over his clipboard. “But, if you’re going to do anything, our athletics department does also run a physical therapy program, which I think could be beneficial. It would help to retain flexibility, mobility, and agility in the areas of your leg that support your ankle. It could help get you back on the ice faster and maintain the leg strength you’ve built. There’s a group session that runs on Tuesday afternoons—”

“Yes,” you nod, not bothering to hear the end of his statement. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

“I… okay.” As much as you want to hate him for it, Dr. Min has a point. And while you doubt physical therapy will be anywhere near as grueling as your usual workouts, it sounds a hell of a lot better than doing nothing. 

…

You’ve never liked hospitals. The odd juxtaposition of white, lifeless sterility and a culmination of some of life’s most painful moments has always left an unpleasant taste on your tongue. 

It’s one that has you double checking the address Dr. Min forwarded to you as you enter the oddly cheerful building that is apparently home to a renowned athletics physical therapy facility. Despite the medical purpose, there’s a distinct liveliness that envelops the space. 

The woman at reception informs you that this is indeed the right building and the session you’re attending has just begun in the room to your left. 

Pausing at the door, you’re struck with a sudden timidness. A physical therapy group for athletes will obviously be filled with, well, athletes. And although you can’t speak too harshly on that particular subsect of people, being one yourself, they can be intimidating. It must be the competitiveness, you think. The drive to push, succeed, win that gives off such a distinct aura.

Steeling yourself with one last breath, you remind yourself that’s why you’re here. To get back to that version of you that has everyone else feeling a little shier. That version of you that eats, breathes, and sleeps with ice skates laced on your feet and visions of the top of a podium driving your every decision. 

With determination straightening your brow, you push open the door. 

And immediately find yourself grateful for the mental preparation as three heads snap in your direction.  

Hitching your bag up an inch on your shoulder, you try not to melt under the sudden awkwardness. Thankfully, one of them is better at breaking ice than you.

“Hi,” the boy closest to you is the first to fill the silence. He’s all smiles where he gives you a friendly wave, moving a stray hair out of his eyes with a flick of his head as he tells you, “I’m Jungwon.”

You offer your name in return, trying on a smile to match his friendliness. You have a feeling it comes more naturally to him than it ever will to you, though. 

Regardless, he offers an equally cheerful, “Nice to meet you.” Glancing over to where the second boy is moving through a series of stretches, Jungwon makes eye contact, silently telling him he’s up next. 

Even mid-stretch, he acquiesces. “I’m Niki,” the second boy follows. 

“And I’m Jake.” The last boy doesn’t need any prompting from Jungwon. Nodding towards the walking boot that covers the bottom half of your left leg, he glances at a similar one that he wears on his own. “Looks like we’re twins. Tore up my achilles pretty bad in my last soccer match,” he explains. “What about you?”

“Fractured my ankle,” you return, a rueful smile dragging your lips up. “Figure skater.”

“Ah, man.” Jungwon winces. “That sucks.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalance you don’t feel. “No worse than a busted achilles.” 

“That’s cool that you skate though,” Jake offers. “Kind of a funny coincidence, actually. There’s another—”

Whatever it is, he doesn’t get to finish the thought. At that moment, the door opens again, this time revealing a middle aged woman in a white physician’s coat. Her name tag reads Dr. Kim, and she introduces herself as such to you. 

“Looks like everyone’s here, including our new members.” She gives another cursory nod in your direction. “Welcome again.” Glancing around, the instructor pauses. “Oh, wait. Except for—”

“I’m here, I’m here.” For the second time in the span of a minute, the door behind you opens. You don’t miss the glance that passes between Niki and Jake. You turn to face the new arrival, but his back is to you as he sets his bag down and begins the process of switching his shoes. 

The way the new member enters with a dismissive wave of his hand and lack of proper greeting has you thinking tardiness is not an uncommon trait of his. Even from behind, you can feel the waves of arrogance he exudes. That seems to align more with your preconceived notions of athletes. 

Studying him for another second, a sinking feeling of dread begins to build in the pit of your stomach. Long, dark hair. Unnaturally graceful movements, even if all he’s doing is digging through his bag. Tall stature, broad shoulders, long legs. 

An athlete’s build through and through. Perfectly suited for the ice. 

“Great.” Despite the statement, Dr. Kim’s tone is flat. “Well, we were just getting started and introducing ourselves since we have someone new joining us today.”

“Hi,” he offers, still fixated on his bag, yet to offer as much as a glance in your direction. If anything, it only serves as a confirmation of his identity. “I’m—” You don’t even need to hear him say it. 

“Sunghoon?”

At that, he does finally look up. 

Gaze locking with yours, a moment of confusion is quickly replaced by a furrow in his brow, the slight downturn of his lips. He’s not thrilled to see you either. 

A beat passes. 

Two. 

Neither of you break eye contact. 

The silence extends to the point of discomfort for all four onlookers, each of them hesitant to break the tension that’s rising by the second. 

Finally, Dr. Kim takes a knife to the tension. “Do you two know each other?” 

Park Sunghoon. Renowned figure skater at your rival university. Someone with such a natural knack for carving lines through ice that whispers of prodigy have been shadowing his footsteps since the minute he put them on a rink. 

Someone with his head so far up his own ass you’re not sure how he can see half the time, much less keep his hair looking so perfect. 

Oh, you know him alright. 

“___?”

And it would seem he remembers you as well. 

It also answers Dr. Kim’s question well enough. 

“Ah, good.” It sounds like a question, like she’s hoping your acquaintance will be a positive thing instead of a disaster. You don’t have the heart to tell her otherwise. “The figure skating community is tight knit, I suppose.”

You suppress a scoff. That’s one word for it, you guess. 

You remember when it felt that way to you, too. Before tight knit became too small. Back before university, when it felt like it was you and Park Sunghoon against the world, instead of against each other. Back when the two of you didn’t skate for opposing teams but instead were members of the same club. A time when you took the ice together, skated as partners until he—

You force your thoughts to stop in their tracks. Your blood pressure has spiked enough in the last few days, and thinking back on long days spent with Park Sunghoon will only send it skyrocketing again. 

If anything, you’ll use this opportunity to practice perfecting your poker face for when you inevitably run into him at future competitions. 

And future competitions means you need a healed ankle, not a bruised ego. And certainly not an unpleasant trip down memory lane. 

Turning away from Sunghoon, you’re the first one to answer when Dr. Kim asks if you’re ready to get started. 

“Yes,” you tell her, determination written across your brow, in the set of your shoulders, and perhaps most noticeably, in the way you avoid Sunghoon’s wandering gaze for the next two hours. 

…

Without the rink, days are quick to meld into one another. It may be concerning, considering that you still have a set schedule of classes and homework to follow, but your life has revolved around training for so long that it’s hard to tell Mondays from Wednesdays without a set practice schedule. 

Thankfully, you do still make it back to the clinic at the right time on the right day, this time for another session with Dr. Kim and your fellow band of broken athletes. 

Including him. 

Aside from the glaringly obvious exception, you’re not as bothered at the thought of returning as you feared you might be. 

Jungwon, Niki, and Jake have proven themself pleasant enough company, and Dr. Kim seems to have built an understanding of how difficult it is to be forcibly removed from the sport you love. As such, she’s one of the least aggravating medical professionals you’ve spent time around. 

“Hey,” Niki greets when you arrive. “Did you have a good weekend?”

You shrug. “Good enough. Mostly just catching up on homework.” Setting your bag down and switching out your shoes, you join him on the mat, beginning the series of warm-up stretches Dr. Kim instructed you through last week. “What about you?”

“Not too bad. I got some good news from my doctor, actually.” He switches legs in his stretch, and you’re almost envious of his flexibility. He’s a dancer, and an exceedingly good one at that. One with an unfortunate knee injury at the moment. “My x-rays are looking a lot better. He thinks I might be able to start easing back into regular use by next month.” 

“That’s great,” you smile, even as a pang of jealousy stabs somewhere near your gut. “I’m really happy for you, Niki.” 

“A month still feels like forever, though, doesn’t it?” He sighs. “I can’t remember the last time I was out of the studio for this long.” 

Jungwon slides down onto the mat next to you, joining in on the stretch routine. “Consider yourself lucky, man. They told me at my last check-up that I probably won’t be able to do any jumping or kicks again for at least three months even though the fracture is already mostly healed.” He shakes his head. “No jumping or kicking,” he echoes, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You know, things that are super easy to avoid in taekwondo.”

“If it’s any consolation, I just got told that I’m gonna have to sit out of regionals this year. Which means I’ll have no way of qualifying for nationals.” You wonder how many times you’ll have to admit that particular reality to yourself before the sting starts to fade. 

“That sucks.” Jake agrees, coming down to the mat and occupying the spot next to Niki. “I’ll probably have to sit for this entire season, too. I love my team, but it’s so frustrating watching them play when I know I could be an asset on the field.”

“That’s true.” You’re struck by a sudden wave of sympathy. “At least skating is an individual sport, so the only person I have to disappoint is myself.” 

“Speaking of skating,” Jungwon sounds hesitant as he approaches the subject. “Do you and Sunghoon, uh…” he pauses for a moment in search of a neutral way of framing the unmistakable tension that surfaced the last time he saw the two of you together. “Do you two know each other?”

Grimacing internally, you suppose an explanation was bound to be solicited after your icy reunion. “We skate for rival universities.” Your gaze fixes on a spot on the ground. “And before college we used to, uh, we used to skate for the same club.”

The three boys share a glance. It’s hardly an explanation for the venom you said his name with but before they can press you further, the subject in question enters the room. 

Again, he takes his time setting his bag down, getting his things ready. This time, he also pulls out an obnoxiously big pair of headphones, secures them over his ears before he bothers to turn around. Despite the fact that all three boys offer him friendly smiles and waves, he returns the gesture only with a tight smile, making his way to the mat on the opposite side of the room before he begins his stretch routine.

It’s a message that rings loud and clear. A frown passes between Jake, Jungwon, and Niki. It’s obvious to you, then, that you’re the reason he chose to set himself up as far away as physically possible. 

So be it, you think, letting the slight roll right off of you. It’s not the first time he’s given you the cold shoulder for something he plays an equal part in, and you doubt it will be the last. 

Besides, it will only make your sessions pass by quicker, if the burden of avoiding gazes and minimizing interactions falls on his shoulders instead of yours.

With nothing but a shrug, you adjust slightly, ensuring that the only view he has of you is of your back. 

…

It’s a pattern that continues as physical therapy sessions start to become a regular routine in your week. Sunghoon, with his apparent disdain for anyone’s time but his own, is always the last to arrive. He also continues his habit of picking the spot in the room furthest away from you. 

Despite the fact that you’d like to chalk it up to his social ineptitude alone, that explanation doesn’t track. Although there’s still a certain aura of aloofness that follows where he goes, it’s too often that you see him smiling at a joke cracked by Jake or sharing easy conversations with Jungwon and Niki.  

Hell, he even interacts with Dr. Kim with a level of warmth you didn’t know was possible coming from him. If there’s any disdain in their conversations, he directs it all towards his right wrist. It’s why he’s here, you assume. Encased in a brace similar to the one you wear on your left ankle, his right forearm seems to be the reason for his attendance. 

It’s hard to not be envious. While a wrist injury is nothing to scoff at, it doesn’t necessarily keep you off the ice. Not in the same way a fractured ankle does. 

Refocusing your thoughts, you push the boy across the room firmly out of mind as Dr. Kim helps adjust you into the next stretch.

“How about now?” Dr. Kim pushes your spine a fraction of an inch further, pressure light but demanding. Before, this much flexibility would have been an easy request of your body, but lack of use has your muscles feeling tight. “Any tightness or pain?”

“No.” The bead of sweat on your brow begs to differ, as does the way the negation slipped through gritted teeth. 

But you’re frustrated. Annoyed at the progress you’ve lost, at the new limits of your body, at the way you feel like a stranger in your own skin. 

Across the room, you miss the flicker of annoyance that flits over Sunghoon’s features. Headphones on as always, you imagine you’re nothing more than a blip on his radar, a pesky intruder that’s easily ignored as long as he has his back to you. 

“Hm,” Dr. Kim muses. “You’ve retained more flexibility than I expected.” She offers you a smile. “That’s a good thing, a sign of a quick recovery.”

You suppress a grimace. It should be a good thing. You should be recovering quickly. If only you could get your stupid body to cooperate. 

Stealing another glance at the boy across the room, you can’t help the way a small burst of rage bubbles in your stomach. Prodigy. Why does he always get to be the anomaly, the exception to the rule? His injury is already less severe than yours, and he’s probably recovering quickly, too. Without even having to fake it.

Easing you out of the stretch, Dr. Kim jots down a quick note. “I’ll have Dr. Min run another x-ray at your next visit.” Nodding towards your ankle, she adds, “I think there’s a good chance that things are looking a lot better, and updated x-rays will help guide our next sessions.” She pauses for a minute. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself or get your hopes up, but I think we might be able to start putting some weight back on it soon. Start getting it stronger again.” 

You’re hesitant to let your excitement grow too much. But it would be a lie if you weren’t already counting the days until your next visit with Dr. Min in your head. “Thank you,” you tell her. “I’ll hope those x-rays come back looking good, then.”

“Me too,” she smiles. “I’ll see you next week, then. Hopefully with good news.”

You nod, returning her smile before heading to the door to gather your things. Jungwon catches you on your way out. 

“Hey, ___, hold on a sec.” When you turn back towards him, he tells you, “The rest of us are gonna grab lunch at a place nearby, if you want to join.”

Your uncertainty must write itself across your features, because he’s quick to add, “Don’t worry. Sunghoon won’t be there. He’s got a class right after this.”

Slightly embarrassed by the way he read you so easily, you nod. “Sure. Lunch sounds good.” Despite their friendliness with Sunghoon, you’ve come to like the three of them. And it’s been far too long since you broke up the monotony of class, homework, and medical appointments with something as simple as lunch with friends. 

And as long as he’s not there, you imagine it will be nothing but pleasant. 

It doesn’t take long for them to prove you wrong. 

Niki barely lets you get one bite in before he asks, “So, what exactly happened between you two?” Even without the name, the question is obvious. 

Still, after choking on the sip of water you’d been taking, you answer, “Who?”

Jake just gives you a look. 

You sigh. “Like I said, we used to skate for the same club. We, uh, never really got along, I guess.” Avoiding eye contact, you add, “And now we skate for rival schools. I suppose it’s only natural to not like each other.”

Niki doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, that sounds made up.”

Jungwon swallows his bite, parts his lips like he has something to say. Internally, you heave a sigh of relief. If any of the three of them spare you, you have a feeling it would be him. “I mean, it does seem like something else must have happened.”

Or not. 

“You don’t have to tell us,” he adds. “But it’s just… I mean, the two of you can’t even look at each other.”

Sighing, you suppose the circumstances do look odd from the outside. “There was… an incident. Back when we used to skate together.”

“What?” Jake asks. “Did he steal your skates right before a show or something?” 

“No, no.” You shake your head. “It happened on the ice, actually. During a program.”

“Wait,” Niki interrupts. “You said you used to skate together. Do you mean like, as partners?”

The guilt on your face says it all. 

“No way.” Jake says. 

Jungwon’s eyes grow bigger. “What did he do?”

“Yeah,” Niki turns to face you fully. “Wouldn’t being his partner be a good thing? At least on the ice, I mean. I know he can be a little insufferable, but isn’t he some sort of prodigy—”

“Prodigy, my ass.” You’re so sick of that goddamn word. “Wasn’t a prodigy when he dropped me in the middle of our program at junior nationals, was he?”

The way all three or their jaws drop in unison is almost worth the admission. 

But the thing is, he was. No accusatory fingers pointed in his direction after it happened. No one blamed prodigy Park Sunghoon for the mishap. 

No, it was decided fair and square by the jury of public opinion that the mistake was entirely your fault, your burden to bear. And it’s not like you were immune to the criticism. Whispers followed where you went. And you always, always managed to hear them. 

Maybe if you’d trained a little harder, completed the second rotation a little sooner, the skill would have gone off without a hitch, they mused. Hell, maybe if you’d stuck to your diet a little better, those last two pounds would have spelled the difference between a perfect landing and your ass on frozen ground, program music still crescendoing as onlookers watched with horrified fascination.

“Oh,” Jungwon grimaces. 

“That’s rough,” Niki agrees. 

And they don’t even know the worst of it. Don’t know that back then, at fifteen, you’d had a giant, soul crushing, earth shattering, massive crush on your skating partner. That you searched for his approval just as eagerly as you’d sought out your coach’s. 

That you’d squeezed in as many extra practice sessions as physically possible for five months leading up to the routine just to make sure you were as close to flawless as possible, just to make sure you were chosen to be his partner on the ice. 

That you giggled, giggled, when you saw the matching costumes the two of you would wear for the first time. 

That you followed where he went with long sighs and lovesick eyes. That you looked forward to the grueling hours you spent on the ice with him, turning perfection into something even greater. 

That your heart skipped a beat every time you ran through your program, every time he caught you with sure hands and a strong grip. 

That Park Sunghoon never made a mistake, never let you fall, not once. 

Not until a spotlight was spinning dreams into reality and you were already anticipating the secret smiles you’d share with matching gold medals around your necks. 

Not until it all shattered in a single moment. 

It was cold, as you laid there on the ice, sprawled out and unable to move from the sudden shock of it all. Luckily, you’d avoided any critical injuries. You had staggered off the ice with nothing but some bad bruising, the worst of it staining your ego and your heart. 

And after it all, no matter how many times you passed him on your way to the locker room, shared the ice with him, or searched for the gaze he pointedly avoided across the room, Park Sunghoon never uttered the two words that just might have made you forgive it all. 

Instead of an apology or even the decency of an explanation, you got a cold shoulder and a lost friendship you were too confused by to mourn. 

In the end, you’d decided to turn it all into a blessing in a very thorough disguise. From that moment onwards, all of your time on the ice was dedicated to you and you alone. Never would you let anything but the sheer strength of your own will, your own goals, motivate you to become better, faster, stronger. 

And you found that victory tasted even sweeter, when the full weight of it could rest on your shoulders alone. When no one could whisper behind their palms that the only reason you stood on the podium was a prodigy of a partner. 

So fine. Park Sunghoon didn’t owe you shit. Not an apology, an explanation, or even a second glance. 

And if he was a prodigy, an ice prince or whatever stupid title he’d earned alongside his medals, well, you’d just have to be even better.

But now, sitting across from new friends with a fractured ankle and a ruined shot at medalling this year, a quiet part of you admits for the first time that maybe, just maybe, part of that resolve is nothing but spite in disguise. Part of the anger you’ve clung to for so long isn’t directed at him, but at yourself. 

That it was embarrassing to fall in front of a crowd, yes, but it was also humiliating to know that he was hearing all those little comments about your inferiority too. To realize that his silence meant he probably agreed. That you were a liability of a partner, unequal in both skill and importance. That he could move on from the incident, from you, completely unscathed. 

That your little crush was entirely one-sided, just like the respect and admiration you’d once felt for him. 

You stare at the half-eaten lunch in front of you, appetite suddenly completely gone. 

“What a coincidence that the two of you ended up injured at the same time,” Jake muses. 

“And in the same physical therapy group.” Jungwon nods. 

“Yeah,” you echo hollowly. “What a coincidence.”

…

When Park Sunghoon speaks to you for the first time in five years, it’s completely by accident.

As the weeks have continued on, you’ve fallen into a perfect routine during your shared physical therapy sessions. A routine of avoidance, ignorance, and as much space between the two of you as physically possible. It’s become so easy that the two of you navigate it with the kind of grace only two elite figure skaters could ever manage. 

If anything, it’s more awkward for the other members of your session than it is for the two of you. Jungwon, Jake, Niki, and Dr. Kim are the ones suffering as they try to stay friendly with both of you without icing out the other. 

It must be why he doesn’t even bother to check who it is that’s standing right next to him as he reaches for his bag on the shelf near the front door at the end of another session. Must be why he says it in a voice so casual you don’t think it’s him at first. “How pissed do you think Dr. Kim will be if I’m late again next week?”

Even though the voice doesn’t quite fit, you half expect to see Jake standing next to you when you turn to the side. 

Sunghoon realizes his mistake at the exact same second you do. You watch as shock flickers across his features, quickly replaced by something guarded, unreadable. Just as completely closed off to you as always. 

It pisses you off, the way he’s so utterly and completely unaffected by you. The way he can brush you off as easily as a piece of dust. Insignificant. Unimportant. Unwanted. It has you freeing the reins on comments you should bite back instead. 

“Hard to say.” Ice and resentment drip from every syllable. “Then again, I’m surprised you care about what she thinks. Doesn’t seem like something that would bother you.”

That at least earns you some of his emotion. Another bout of shock crosses his face before it shifts to confusion and falls finally to anger. You can see it in the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. The flare of heat in his eyes. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

If he falls to anger, you’ll rise above it. At least on the outside. There’s no accounting for the way your gut twists in rage. Still, you offer him a smile that’s almost as fake as it is sickeningly sweet. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you spend enough time thinking about it.” It’s patronizing, and intentionally so. You hope it annoys him enough to keep him up tonight. 

Reaching for the front door, you take your exit first. The hallways of this building have become familiar over the weeks. Even with anger clouding your vision and a bad ankle, you trace a steady path to the parking lot. You’re halfway to your car when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

You freeze for a moment, turning the sound of it over in your brain, stuck on the way it almost sounds like a plea, a prayer coming from his lips. The sound of footsteps draws nearer. They fall quickly, as if he’s running. Your indecision still renders you immobile. 

“Hold on a second. Did I… Did I do something to upset you?”

If you thought you were angry before, you’re surely seeing red now. How dare he. 

Spinning around, you only hope you sound as outraged as you feel. “Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?”

“What? No.” His brow furrows. “I mean, I know our schools are technically rivals and all, but we haven’t really seen each other in years.”

“Right, because you’ve been so sunny and welcoming since I joined the group.”

“I was giving you space. You practically bolted like a scared cat when you saw it was me.” He runs a hand through his hair. You hate the way it falls perfectly back into place. And you hate the way he looks so good doing it. “But clearly you’ve got something against me.”

The audacity, the sheer, utter audacity. There’s no trace of humor when you say, “You’re hilarious, really.” And there’s no room for debate when you turn away from him again, continuing to walk towards your car. 

“Wait,” he tries, but it falls on deaf ears. “God, ___, would you just hold on for a second, I—”

You turn. To do what, you’re not entirely sure. But before you can decide, the grip he has on his car keys loosens, the fingers of his right hand less dexterous than usual thanks to his arm brace. He still has his reflexes though. With his other hand, he manages to stop them from falling completely. 

“Better take care of that.” You jerk your chin to where he awkwardly fumbles with his keyring, trying to find a better grip. “Wouldn’t want to drop those too.”

His gaze snaps to you, eyes wide, mouth slightly slackened. The keys fall from his grasp, metal clinking delicately on the pavement. A million questions swim across his features, none of which you’ll give the grace of answering. 

Instead, you turn around once more. You make it all the way to your car, all the way out of the parking lot, all the way home. 

And he never says your name once. 

…

The following Tuesday, you are the last one of the group to arrive. And while you would usually never pass up the opportunity to best Sunghoon at anything, including being the latest arrival, competition is not the reason for your tardiness. 

It’s avoidance. That, and the fact that you had to spend eleven minutes giving yourself a pep talk in the car before you could work up the nerve to approach the front doors of the clinic. In the end, it’s a glance down at the boot on your left foot that does it. You’ve let Sunghoon ruin your chance at a gold medal once, and you’ll be damned if you let him do it again. 

Besides, your last visit with Dr. Min was a good one. Your ankle hasn’t healed quite as much as Dr. Kim suspected, but progress is progress, and you’re making plenty of it, according to your most recent x-rays. 

You enter the session with an apology for Dr. Kim and concentrated efforts to not let your gaze wander to the back corner of the room as you make your way over to where Jake and Jungwon sit. Starting your stretches, you assume Niki is over with Sunghoon, but you can’t work up the nerve to confirm that. 

Despite her initial annoyance at your tardiness, Dr. Kim is equally pleased at your latest x-ray results and gives you the green light to switch out the resistance bands you’ve been using for the next level up. Just as you’re reaching for the set of red bands on the shelf next to the treadmills, a set of obnoxiously smooth hands gets there first. 

Turning to Sunghoon with narrowed eyes, you grab the end of the band set he just snatched out from under you, eyes ablaze. 

The little fucker has the gall to roll his eyes. “What are you doing?”

You yank on the band. He doesn’t even flinch, grip steady. “I’m trying to follow Dr. Kim’s instructions,” you inform, tone flat. 

This time when you yank again, he yanks back. Much to your annoyance, he’s able to exert enough force to have you stumbling forward. “You’re trying to provoke me.”

“And it’s working,” Niki whispers to Jake and Jungwon in the back corner of the room. Dr. Kim just shakes her head. 

“Just take the green bands,” Sunghoon suggests. 

“They don’t have enough resistance. I need these ones,” you argue. “Why don’t you take the green ones?”

“Pretty sure if one of us takes the lighter bands, it should be you.” Sunghoon tightens his grip. “Or are you seriously trying to claim that you’re stronger than me right now?”

“I’m using them for my legs, you absolute jackass. Which are definitely stronger than your forearms.”

Sunghoon cocks a brow. “Should we put money on it?”

“You are such a dick. Dr. Kim literally—”

“Has another set of red bands,” the woman in question interrupts. She levels the two of you with an exasperated look as she holds them out in front of her. “There’s another set of every color on the equipment shelf next to the door.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, pulling back a little on your end of the band before you release it, just to hear the small cry Sunghoon lets out when it snaps against the skin of his good wrist. “Thanks.”

And the satisfaction that comes from completing your usual number of reps with a higher resistance is almost as gratifying as when you see Sunghoon rubbing at the still reddened skin on his left wrist as you pack up to leave for the day. 

“Those two are gonna kill each other,” Jungwon tells Jake and Niki as the three of them walk to their cars, brow creasing in concern. 

“Or something,” Jake agrees. 

Niki hoists his bag up on his shoulder. “My money’s on ___.”

A contemplative look passes between Jake and Jungwon before they nod in unison, “Yeah.”

…

You’re in the middle of passing a medicine ball back and forth with Jake the following week when he asks, “Are your school’s finals next week too?”

And although it’s hard to believe, first semester is already drawing to an end as the days get shorter and assignments get longer. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m up to my ass in essays right now.”

“Same,” Jake agrees. “Sometimes it makes me wonder how I do it when I’m training, too.” Although you agree, a pang of jealousy is the only thing his words inspire. Of the skaters on your team that are preparing to compete as you speak. That have already choreographed their routines and selected their music and are spending every waking moment perfecting each and every detail of their program. 

It’s hard. It’s brutal. You’d be the first to admit that. But you miss it all the same, so much it hurts. 

A moment passes before he continues. “Well, anyway, Jungwon, Niki, and I were thinking that since none of us are training right now, we should celebrate the end of the semester like everyone else does.”

You arch a brow. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“Right, sorry,” he apologizes. “Consider this your formal invitation to get absolutely shitfaced with us next Friday.”

The laugh that bubbles in your throat is so unexpected you can’t quite bite it back. While you have your fair share of good, old-fashioned fun, he’s right. Every other semester, you’ve celebrated the end of finals season with a cup of hot tea and an early night in bed. Traded one source of stress for another as you woke up bright and early the next day to hit the ice. 

You send him a smile, tossing the medicine ball back in his direction. “Count me in.”

…

The following Friday night finds you double-checking the address on your phone before tentatively knocking on the front door of what you hope is Jake’s apartment. In the middle of the university district across the city from your own, you can’t say you’re familiar with any of the buildings outside of the athletic complex, which you’ve only ever visited for a handful of competitions. It strikes you then that this is also the university Sunghoon attends. And, stomach dropping, that you never actually asked who all would be attending tonight.

Before you have the chance to spin on your heel and high-tail it down the stairs you just climbed, the door swings open. It’s not Jake. 

“Oh,” you mumble. The boy who opened the door is not Jake, but he is very much attractive. “Sorry. I’m looking for Jake Sim’s apartment.” Your voice turns up at the end like a question. 

“You’re in the right place,” he smiles, and it’s gorgeous. “I’m Heeseung, Jake’s roommate. You must be ___.” He opens the door wider, allowing you space. “Come on in.”

“That’s me.” You offer him a grateful smile as you enter, hanging your coat and sliding your shoes off. 

The interior is surprisingly sophisticated, for a college boy’s apartment. It’s clean, for starters, and as you follow Heeseung down the hallway towards the kitchen, you can’t help but be impressed by their choice in decor. 

“Help yourself to anything.�� Heeseung gestures to the impressive spread of snacks on the table. “But first, can I get you something to drink?”

“Um…” Your lack of alcohol-related knowledge is apparent, and the uncertainty must be obvious, because Heeseung just smiles again. 

“I’ve got you.” There’s an undertone of something in his words. Something playful, something bordering on flirty. But it’s too subtle to tell for sure, and you’re not one to bet on losing odds. He reaches for a glass and a handful of ice cubes. “Do you like fruity flavors?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “That sounds good.” Besides, it’s been a minute since you’ve been well and truly flirted with at a college party by a boy that looks like he could spell trouble in his sleep. This could be fun, you think.  

Glancing towards the adjacent living room, you notice the usual familiar faces. Jake and Niki are sitting on the couch while Jungwon chats with a pair of boys you don’t recognize. Eyes tracing the perimeter, you feel your shoulders tense when they land on a familiar silhouette. Sunghoon has his back to you, but his identity is just as unmistakable as it was on your first day of physical therapy. Like Jungwon, he’s talking to another person you don’t know. 

Oh, well. It’s too late to back out now and too early to make an exit. If you and Sunghoon can coexist in a room once a week without starting too many fires, you’re sure you’ll manage to get through tonight just fine. 

Heeseung hands you a full glass. It’s cold where it meets your fingertips. 

“Should we join them?” He inclines his head toward the living room and you nod. 

Following in his footsteps, you wave a quick greeting to Jake before taking a seat next to Heeseung, enough space between you and Sunghoon for you to relax slightly.

“How do you and Jake know each other?” You ask, searching for something to fill the silence, to keep the conversation flowing. “Do you play soccer together?”

Heeseung shakes his head. “No, we’ve been friends since elementary school. But I am on the basketball team, which helps. I feel like student athletes just kind of get each other, you know?”

You do know, and you tell him as much. The crazy schedule, the unwavering commitment. It’s much easier to explain to someone that’s living through the exact same thing. 

“Speaking of which, you’re a figure skater, right? For the university across town.”

You arch a brow. “I’m surprised Jake told you so much about you.”

“Not nearly enough,” he flirts, and this time it’s blatant. 

You take another sip of your drink with upturned lips, weighing a response on your tongue. Before you can decide how many cards you’d like to show, you make eye contact across the room with the one person you were hoping to avoid. 

Sunghoon looks equally—scratch that—even more displeased to see you. Jawline so taught you could cut your finger on it and lips drawn in a straight line, he’s pissed where he locks eyes with you from his seat. Sunghoon is the one to avert his eyes first. Throwing back whatever’s in his cup, he slices through the moment of tension with a knife. 

If Heeseung notices the way your breath splutters, he doesn’t comment. Thankfully, Jungwon chooses the next moment to say his hellos and introduce you to the boys you hadn’t recognized earlier. 

“Sunoo,” he nods towards the boy he’d been sitting with earlier, who offers a friendly greeting. “And that’s Jay, over by Sunghoon. And you’ve already met Heeseung.”

“And you all go to school here?”

“Yeah,” Jungwon nods. “Jay and I live together, and Sunoo is Niki’s roommate.”

“You’re deep in enemy territory,” Heeseung elbows you lightly, teasing. “What are we gonna do with you?”

You lift your now empty glass towards him, grinning. “Get me another drink, hopefully.”

Sending you a wink, he takes the glass from your outstretched hand before standing from the couch. “On it.” You watch his back retreat into the kitchen, oblivious of the second one that follows it a handful of moments later. 

Jay, as it turns out, is not an athlete, but does play guitar for a local  band your friend has been raving to you about for ages. He’s already promising you two sets of complimentary tickets to every one of their upcoming shows by the time you realize Heeseung’s been gone for a while. Too long. 

Excusing yourself, you head toward the kitchen. And it’s just your luck that you find the person you’ve spent the evening avoiding, instead of the one you’re searching for. Even with the buzz of your first drink fading rapidly, your inhibitions are feeling low. 

Sunghoon barely has the chance to register your presence before you’re laying out accusations. 

“I know you don’t like me, but do you really have to spend the whole night glaring at me like that? In front of everyone?”

Sunghoon’s shoulders tense, a confirmation that he hears you, but he says nothing. Instead, he just swallows the remainder of his drink in one large gulp. His eyes are still flaring, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you did something to piss him off. 

But it’s just like him, to avoid conversations he doesn’t want to have with the end of another drink. To treat you like someone not even worthy of a response. You don’t know why you expected anything different. Scoffing, you notice the full drink sitting on the counter. Heeseung must have had the chance to refill it before disappearing. 

You move to step around Sunghoon and reach for it when he finally says, “I’m not glaring at you.”

The gaze you level him with is incredulous. “Do you think I’m stupid? I have eyes—”

“For all I know you are stupid!” Sunghoon sighs, drags an open palm down the length of his face. “I mean, are you really gonna let some guy you just met pour your drinks all night?”

“Heeseung?” You’re confused why all of his rage seems to be directed towards something so insignificant. “He’s Jake’s roommate”

“And a complete stranger to you.”

It’s infuriating, the way he assumes his opinion should hold any weight in your life. The way he thinks he has any say in your decisions. “So should I avoid all the food now too?” You’re being petty now for the sake of it. “I mean, since you’ve been in here unsupervised for quite a while now.” You take another step towards your drink and he moves, blocking your path with his body. 

When you look up, you find his eyes already trained on you, and there’s no ice in them now. Just pure, unadulterated heat. Fire. Flames that lick the base of your spine. “You’re so fucking agitating, you know that?”

“I’m agitating?” You take another step forward, hoping the proximity will force him away. It doesn’t. If anything, he leans into it. Into you. 

You reach for the drink again. This time, he stops you himself. Fingers of his unrestricted hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Yeah.” His words are low, voice a caress even as it drips venom. You feel his breath ghost across your cheekbone. “Real fucking agitating.”

Your eyes are still locked on his, and you search them for a hint of something coherent, something that makes sense. Every bone in your body drawn taught, it’s as if muscle memory reverts you to the last moment you were like this, the last moment he held you this close, body entwined with his own in a familiar embrace. Your wrist slackens in his grasp. 

Last time, he dropped you. Sent you scattering across ice until the only thing you could taste was the bitterness of defeat and the sharp sting of humiliation. 

Last time, he let you fall. 

You have no idea what he’ll do now. 

In the end, it’s the sound of approaching footsteps that has the two of you springing apart, your wrist falling from his grip. In the scramble, you remember your original target. 

Despite the long melted ice, this drink feels even cooler in your grip, a stark contrast to the simmering heat just beneath your skin. 

When Heeseung enters, he’s tucking his phone into his pocket with an apologetic look. “Sorry, I had to take a call. My brother gets chatty at the worst times.” Nodding to your hand, he smiles, “You found your drink.” 

“Yeah, I did.” You take a step closer to the living room, closer to Heeseung. Further from Sunghoon. 

Glancing between the two of you, there’s a hint of uncertainty when Heeseung asks if you want to rejoin the others in the living room. 

You put his worries to ease and your questions to rest when you agree easily, not even bothering to give Sunghoon a second thought. 

You do seek his gaze one last time, though, before you follow Heeseung back to the party. Looking directly at him, you raise your glass in a mock toast. Without breaking eye contact, you bring the cup to your lips, swallowing half the drink in one long sip. When you do finally turn away, it’s to find the empty seat next to Heeseung. 

The rest of the evening passes in a pleasant blur, trading stories and laughs with the people around you while Heeseung keeps the seat at your side warm. Sunghoon does you the favor of disappearing from sight after your stand off in the kitchen.

It’s easy to relax into the company of everyone else, so much so that you don’t see Sunoo until you’re running right into him, the contents of his cup saturating the front of your shirt. 

It’s a problem Heeseung is quick to solve, and the gray hoodie he offers you is cozier than any of your own with a scent that’s almost addicting. 

He’s sweet, you think. Sweet and charming and forward in all of the right ways. It’s solidified when he offers to join you on the porch when you tell him you’re stepping outside for some fresh air. It’s cemented when he accepts your refusal with nothing but a smile and the request that you “come back quick.”

Stepping outside, it takes you a moment to realize that you’re not alone. It would appear that your earlier assumption that Sunghoon must have gone back to his place was wrong. There’s no drink in his hand, but the way he sways with the gentle midnight breeze makes you think he’s still working through everything he downed earlier. 

Silently, you glance up at the cloudless night sky, at the way the stars seem to wrap around you. Gaze returning to Sunghoon’s back, you suppose the simplest course of action would be to leave before he realizes you’re here. You turn to do just that, to make good on your promise to Heesung, when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

Or at least, you think that’s what he says. It’s hard to tell, with the way his syllables and sounds slur together. Turning back towards him, you find him already looking at you. He repeats your name, and this time around, it’s a bit clearer. 

His eyes trace a downward line from your face to your change in clothes. Something in his face crumples, withers. 

“‘M sorry,” he slurs, words not lining up quite right through the inebriation. 

“What?”

“That day.” The sudden onset of sincerity in his tone makes him seem more sober than he is. “I should have caught you.”

The stars in the sky suddenly don’t seem so far away. You must have heard him wrong. A crease forms between your eyebrows, eyes scanning over his features. They’re laid open in their honesty, no trace of deception. 

“I wanted to catch you. I tried to.” He sighs. “Was my fault.”

“I…” You search for words, for the vindication you’d always imagined you’d feel at his admission. In its absence, you find only confusion and an odd pang of regret. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

“Sorry for what? Why are you bringing that up?”

He just shakes his head, eyes falling to his feet. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again. Like a broken record. His pain is wrapped up in there too, trapped in a loop time has never quite let it escape. 

When you return to the party, it’s with a jumbled excuse of needing to check on a pet cat you don’t have. 

In the haste of it all, you forget to so much as exchange numbers with Heeseung. But you do find the time to pull Jake aside on your way out the door, to make sure that he helps Sunghoon get home safe. 

…

The next morning greets you with a pounding headache and an unfamiliar hoodie draped over the back of your desk chair. It takes a moment of searching through hazy memories before recollection of that particular string of events finds you. 

With a sigh, you head out in search of water and Advil, sending Jake a quick message that you’ll stop by his apartment later to return Heeseung’s hoodie. 

Even a handful of hours later, you can’t decide if you hope Heeseung is home or not. It’s a Saturday afternoon after a long night, so you figure the odds are high. But you still can’t pinpoint whether that feeling in your gut is excitement or dread. 

In an effort to delay the inevitable, you take a detour before visiting Jake’s apartment again. Your rival university’s sports complex is just as nice as you remember it, large, pristine buildings that hold everything an athletics department could dream of. Fondly, you remember the first time you skated in this stadium, back in middle school. It had felt so big, then, so special, to be skating for such a large crowd. 

It felt even more special to be sharing the ice with someone who put dreams in your head and butterflies in your stomach. Still fairly new to pair skating, the two of you had put on a program with a less than favorable amount of deduction. 

But still. It was yours. It was special. It was shared. 

You wonder if he knew then, that one day he would be the reigning king of this very same rink. 

Probably, you think. Park Sunghoon never had the habit of letting things feel impossible. 

Looking down at the boot on your foot, you miss it, all of it, all at once. The late nights. The early mornings. The bruises and cuts and aching muscles. The determination after defeat. The elation after glory. The feeling of flying every time blade touches ice. 

The sign posted next to the stadium is an advertisement, a reminder, of the upcoming regional championships. There’s a pang of loss, a moment of grief, for your program that will have to wait for next year. 

But your x-rays are coming back better every time, and Dr. Kim is sure you’ll be back on the ice by the time spring comes. 

For the first time in a long time, you think it’ll be okay. You know you’ll be okay.  

In front of you, the stadium door opens, and you realize you’re standing right in front of the exit. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, quickly moving to get out of the way, but then you take a closer look. “Coach Kang?” you ask, just as she says your name with the same air of disbelief. 

It’s an odd feeling of synchronicity, to stumble into your childhood skating coach just as you’re reminiscing on the past. 

“It’s been so long,” she beams, pulling you in for a warm hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting a friend. What about you?”

“Coaches’ meeting,” she explains. “Trying to see if I can get some of my junior skaters in to watch a few practices before regionals.” Nudging you with her shoulder, she adds, “speaking of which, how’s your program coming along? Are you getting excited?”

You shake your head. “I’m actually off the ice for this one.” Glancing down, you lift your booted foot in explanation. “Ankle fracture has me out for the rest of the season.”

“Oh, no.” Coach Kang places a consolatory hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. That has to be so hard.”

“It’s okay, actually.” You don’t know who’s more surprised, her at your admission, or you at the fact that you actually mean it. “Everything is healing up nicely, so I’m looking forward to an even better program next year.” 

“Well look at you, all grown up.” She smiles. “I can say that thirteen-year-old you would not have had such a good attitude about it. Honestly, I’m surprised a fracture was enough to stop you. You were always so stubborn about things. You and Sunghoon.” She lets out a short laugh as your shoulders tense at the mention of him. “I was just thinking about you two the other day, actually. We had a skater fracture his tailbone and argue until he was blue in the face that he still wanted to compete.” Shaking her head, she adds, “It reminded me of that time Sunghoon insisted on skating even though he’d just sprained his wrist.” She shakes her head again, releases a small laugh. “Never could keep you two off the ice.”

It all checks out, the stubbornness, the determination even when it was stupid. But you’re hung up on one detail. You’re sure you could list every one of Sunghoon’s skating injuries just as thoroughly as he could. But before the current one, you can’t recall any wrist injuries. “What? When did he sprain his wrist?” 

Coach Kang waves her hand flippantly, like the sinking feeling in your gut isn’t intensifying with every passing moment, like she isn’t about to confirm a realization you’re already dreading. “Oh, you remember. It was just a few days before nationals that one year.”

That one year. She skirts around it, for your sake probably. But you know exactly what she means, when she’s referring to. 

And suddenly, you’re falling through air again, plummeting towards ice as a hand makes a desperate attempt to catch you. As sheer will alone is no match for injury weakened bones and ligaments and muscles. As you’re sliding across frozen ground and he’s gripping his wrist with pain on his face and terror in his eyes. 

As your head spins, spots clouding your vision from the force of the impact. Before the world goes black, your eyes search for him. 

And in those last few moments of consciousness, you watch as his mouth moves to form words you can’t hear. 

“I’m sorry.”

…

Raising your fist, you pound at the door again. One, two, three times. At this rate, your knuckles will be bloody before you get a response. 

But before you can start your assault on the wood in front of you again, the door swings open slowly, revealing a familiar frame. 

“You absolute idiot.”

“Well hello to you too.” Rubbing at his eyes, you appear to have just woken him from a nap. If his head is feeling anything like yours was this morning, you almost feel sorry. 

But there are more pressing matters at hand. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“That I’m an idiot? Probably not.”

“That you sprained your wrist three days before nationals? That you skated anyway? That you attempted to catch a person quite literally spinning through the air with a wrist injury?”

A beat of silence passes. 

And then another. 

Sunghoon suddenly looks wide awake. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. What the hell were you thinking?” There’s fire in your eyes, an anger that’s directed towards him but not in the ways he’s used to. 

He pauses for a moment, eyes searching your features for another beat. Finally, he sighs. “Would you have let me skate if I did?”

It’s not the answer you expect. And it’s just like him, to answer a question with one of his own. “I… what?”

“You heard me.” His eyes don’t leave yours. “Would you have let me get on the ice if you knew I was hurt?”

And what is it, him and his habit of asking ridiculous questions like they don’t have obvious answers. “What kind of question is that? Of course not. No one in their right mind would have let you do that program with a wrist sprain, much less your partner. And I love Coach Kang, but I’m about to file a negligence suit against her, because what the hell kind of—”

“Stop talking.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, and you’re still getting used to the way apologies sound on his lips. “That came out wrong. What I was trying to say was that you… Well, I… I mean…” He trails off for the third time, casts a tentative look at the way your eyebrows only raise higher and higher every time he stops a train of thought in its tracks. His gaze falls down, somewhere between your nose and chin. An exhale passes through parted lips. Something in his resolve slips. “Oh, fuck it.”

And then he’s kissing you. 

Lips against lips and hands in your hair. It’s messy and awkward, and you can’t quite get the timing right. 

Sunghoon pulls back a fraction of an inch, catching his breath and letting you do the same. 

“What are you doing?”

There’s heat in his eyes and fondness too, a soft sort of expression that only melts further every time he looks at you. But now there’s anxiety in the mix, a crippling fear that he’s misjudged everything entirely, done something horribly wrong. 

“I’m sorry.” Before today, you could count his apologies on one hand. Now, you’re running out of fingers. “Did you not want—”

This time, it’s you that pulls him down, hands lacing around the nape of his neck, exhaling a soft sigh against parted lips that sends his mind spinning. 

And it’s only the second time, but it’s already better. Already a natural rhythm that the two of you seem to fall into with a little more grace. 

The expanse of his door is cold against your back when Sunghoon pulls you into his apartment with his good hand, and he’s a quick study. Attempt number three is an even greater improvement as hands search for new skin to discover and things start to fall into place, one at a time. 

Reaching for Heeseung’s forgotten hoodie, Sunghoon breaks the kiss only to toss it somewhere outside your current plane of existence. In this moment, you exist only within the space the two of you occupy, everything else an afterthought. 

And you have the feeling attempt number four will be your best yet. 

…

epilogue

“Are you ever gonna join me or do I just have to stay out here looking stupid forever?”

You don’t even take a moment to consider. “The second one.”

“Come on,” Sunghoon pleads, skating back towards you where you remain planted firmly to the bench on the perimeter of the rink. He moves towards you with a grace that used to inspire a raging, stomping green monster of envy. Now, you just admire the way he cuts across the ice with the agility of a dancer. “It’s fun out here, I promise.”

Avoiding his gaze, you let your eyes fall to your feet instead. They’re already laced up in your favorite pair of skates, black boot all but forgotten since you had it removed at your last visit to Dr. Min’s office. Since he gave you the green light to return to the thing you love most. 

You had been ecstatic then. Brimming with so much extra energy Sunghoon had to physically intervene to prevent you from accidentally knocking over an elderly lady on your way out of the hospital. But now, with the opportunity you’ve been dreaming of for long, hard months at your fingertips, something in you hesitates. 

Sunghoon says your name, and suddenly he’s serious. “This is all you’ve been talking about for months.” Sliding down onto his knees in front of you, you’re suddenly at eye level. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He casts a doubtful glance. “Really, I just…” It’s hard, to speak your fears into existence, to let them take flight. Even if the boy in front of you makes it a little easier. “What if it’s not what I imagined?”

It’s a million little worries wrapped up in one. What if your ankle isn’t the same? What if it’s never the same? What if you’re not as good as you were? What if you’re not good enough? 

Sunghoon hears them all, and puts them to rest with a smile, a gentle touch as he rests his forehead against yours. “You and that big brain. Always worrying about the wrong things.”

“Hey! I—”

“It won’t be what you imagined.” He draws back a few inches, and your eyes have nowhere to land but on his own. “It will be different. It will feel weird, and your legs will feel wobbly, your muscles will feel weak, and your ankle might give out.”

Your lips flatten into a thin line. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re doing a terrible job.”

Sunghoon just pinches your cheeks together, forcing your lips to purse. “So you’ll show up. Over and over again. Every day until your skates start to feel like a second pair of feet and the ice starts to feel like home again. Until your ankle and your muscles and your stamina are all built back up, in a way that’s different from before but will feel familiar before you know it.” He presses a single, delicate kiss to the tip of your nose. “Until I’m dragging you off the ice instead of onto it, because your boyfriend needs attention and is feeling a little jealous of all the time you’re spending here instead of with him.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re so needy. It’s gross.”

Sunghoon only smiles. “Only for you.”

This time, when he gets back on his feet and extends a hand, you take it. You follow him onto the ice and headfirst towards your insecurities feeling a little bit like a newborn deer, a bike without its training wheels. 

He laughs when you stumble and brushes hair out of your face when you pout. 

After an hour, you’re already feeling more solid than before. After two, that feeling of flying is starting to return. 

It’s somewhere just before hour three when Sunghoon says, “Remember how I told you earlier that you’re worrying about the wrong things?”

“Yeah.” You drag the word out slowly, not liking the hint of deviousness in his sudden grin. 

“This is what I was talking about. Instead of worrying about getting back on the ice, you should be worrying about how long it will take you to be able to beat me on a lap around the rink.”

“You absolute asshole. I fractured my ankle!”

Already halfway around the rink, Sunghoon just laughs. 

…

outtake—five years ago. 

Sunghoon’s vision is blurry. It’s a terrible combination of things—the exhilaration of the spotlight, the pain in his wrist, the grief of an egregious error. The sudden onset of tears that sting in the corners of his eyes and fall without his permission. 

Despite all of it, he finds his way back to his dressing room. Choking back a sob, he reaches for the glass of water he’d left out earlier. It tastes acidic on his tongue, burns like regret on the way down. 

Stupid, he was so stupid. His hands tangle in his hair. He wants to pull it out. Wants to scream until his throat is raw and he can’t anymore. 

It was a terrible enough decision to gamble his own fate on an unhealed injury, but as the reality of the situation comes crashing down around him, he realizes he’s done something much worse. 

Eyes open, eyes closed. It doesn’t matter. All he can see is you, sprawled out on ice, limbs bent unnaturally, eyes dazed at the impact. 

The unexpected impact. Because you trusted him. You trusted him so much that of course you’d never considered what you would do if his hands failed, if his wrist gave out. If he decided to risk your program, your fate, you, all on a whim, on an inflated sense of self-importance and a lack of regard for the injury he was so certain he could power through. 

He couldn’t imagine it, three days ago. Telling you that he was injured, that he couldn’t skate the program. He couldn’t imagine watching as the features he bashfully considered so, painfully pretty twisted into disappointment. Into anger. 

So he turned his shame into resolve, into determination. One that allowed him to catch you with a fractured wrist in every practice run, every time, except for the time that mattered. Biting back grimaces and cries of pain all for the fool’s hope of seeing you smile in a few days’ time, a gold medal around your neck. 

Instead, he got to see you spinning through the air, slipping through his fingers, landing with a sickening thud. He wants to ask what hospital they took you to, wants to ignore the pain in his wrist a little longer and run there himself, just to make sure that you’re okay.

But then he imagines the way you’ll look at him when you see him. The way all that disappointment and anger he’d wanted to avoid so desperately will surely be all you have to offer him. 

He understands. He does. He wouldn’t want to see him either. 

Turning away from the mirror, he tucks away his shame for the future. But that only leaves his gaze landing on the bouquet of flowers sitting on the table. The one he’d spent nearly an hour agonizing over, the one his mother had assured him a dozen times you would love. The one he made sure had all of your favorite colors. 

He snuck his own favorite in there too, in hopes of what exactly he can’t be sure, but he knows he likes the way they look together—your favorite color and the deep blue irises that represent his own. 

It seems to stupid now. After everything, after this, he can’t imagine you want his flowers, and even less his favorite color. He can’t imagine that you want anything to do with him. 

So he doesn’t seek you out. Not in the hospital that day, not when you’re cleared to practice and back on the ice again, not when chance has the two of you colliding five years later. 

Not until he watches you walk away from him with all that anger and resentment and disappointment he’s been so avoiding for so long. Not until it strikes him in the face and he realizes that he can’t live with it, can’t let bygones be bygones and hope time and the absence of him in your life have healed you for the better when it still hurts to even look at you. 

On a dressing room table, five years in the past, a bouquet of flowers wilts. 

And Sunghoon learns that with love and patience and a little bit of sunlight, beautiful things, even the fragile ones, bloom when you water them.

.....

note: thank you for reading! as always, comments, reblogs, and asks are very much appreciated :D

[percyluvr]

Heyhey :D can i request a percy jackson x daughter of demter!reader headcanons? Plss 💗

percy jackson x daughter of demeter!reader summary: hcs about percy w a daughter of demeter

his first thought when he saw u was 'she is so cute i need her in my life IMMEDIATELY'

when he went to ask you out, he bought one of those flower language books so that he could get you flowers that were meaningful and romantic

u literally almost cried when he gave u the bouquet bc it was the most romantic thing u had ever received in ur entire life

HE EVEN PUT UR FAVORITE FLOWERS IN IT GOODBYE

he's such a sweetie and he always listen when u talk

he loves it if u have a softer voice

he just loves u fr

but anyways

he always follows u around when u go around camp making sure all the plants are healthy

and he asks so many questions

hes genuinely so interested

he gives you carefully picked out bouquets of flowers and he keeps some flowers so when they die he knows when to get you a new bouquet

hes ur #1 fan

he thinks its so cool how u can manipulate plants n shit

and make them grow

he just finds it really cute how u care so much about the planet too

sometimes yall just sit in silence and do a lil gardening

u show him what u love and he shows u what he loves

HE LOVES taking you underwater

and if u can like do shit with the seaweed he thinks its awesome

like one time u changed the seaweed to be changed like a heart and he almost cried because it was so cute

u made him a flower crown to match the one u like wearing

and he literally died

he could NOT stop telling people about it

he wore it everywhere

and u replaced it every time he lost it... which was a lot more times than he would've preferred

he felt bad

but u didnt really mind remaking it so!

yall just be connecting w nature n shit

frolicking in the strawberry patch type beat

he just thinks ur so cute

ur like a little flower to him

BUT that doesnt mean that he doesnt think ur powerful

bc lord knows u ARE

one time he made you mad and u almost strangled him with a vine

he knew to never piss you off again

yall r honestly chill tho

like the two of you just chill around camp with each other

the shit that goes on at camp doesnt phase you at all

adding onto that, i think yall have just been through so much together that u have a strong ass connection that nobody could break

when yall go on quests together, it always goes smoothly

you keep him in check

but u also let him have his fun

in conclusion, yall were just made for each other

[lowkeyrobin]

Platonic Ghostbusters x social media manager! Reader?

oooo hell yeah!! ; thanks for requesting and I hope u enjoy :)

GHOSTBUSTERS ; social media manager

summary ; you run the official ghostbusters social media platforms

warnings ; language

word count ; 746

masterlist

Podcast wanted to run the official Ghostbuster social media's but was quickly turned down at that. They needed someone who could actually be on top of that kind of stuff and whatnot. So, Stanz made a deal with Podcast that they'd get a social media manager, and he could act as their teammate with that, basically. Giving them ideas, giving them video clips and extra details, etcetera.

Most of the others didn't see a real reason for a social media manager, but as long as it wasn't their money.

Trevor offered to just do everything himself, but that was obviously turned down as well. The teens all agreed not to let the adults run the account either. They didn't need millennial - Gen X / Boomer humor flooding the whole account and making them look bad.

And that's where you came in.

surprisingly, Pheobe was the one to find you. she's seriously the most chronically offline person ever so the fact she ever opened Instagram was a miracle in itself

lots of talking back and forth and meeting the original four three ghostbusters to get input, then meeting callie & garry and the teenagers

you actually figured out that you used to be friends with Lucky as well, damn

you had managed social media accounts before, but you'd recently quit a few of those because of labor laws being broken so, yknow

you quickly formed a bond with Lucky, Trevor, and Podcast. you were kind of close in age to all three of them and they were all invested in the public image for the brand

setting the Instagram up was genuinely the funnest thing ever

the four of you were chilling in the living room in the firehouse (since sleepover stuff, pheobe was in her room reading) and you had your laptop in your lap and the three of them over your shoulders

the amount of laughing and cackling got some scolding from callie upstairs

it took everything out of you to not make the first post a video of trevor being soaked in Slimer's slime (which had been recorded by Lucky just by coincidence as they were investigating the attic again)

the first three posts, which were pinned, all lined up to be like a banner kind of logo with the theme song in the back, and they all played the same video, clips of the og ghostbusters and how they grew and then the new ghostbusters

the tiktok is its own thing, you allowed trev, lucky, podcast (and pheobe) to run it, but everything had to be ran by you first because pr shit

but thankfully no boomer humor or slang is ever being put on those accounts

most of those people don't even know wtf the internet is anyways lol

stanz has a personal vendetta against you /hj after you posted a .5 of him for relatable promo. he had no idea what you were doing but it was criminal that you made his forehead look so much more bigger than it already was

Winston gives you a bunch of old pics to post to trending angst sounds as well LOL

let's not talk about that tiktok where you, lucky, and trevor dance to/remake submissive and breedable by smosh ft bbno$, okay?

^podcast and pheobe were behind the camera cackling the whole time

lots of random pic posts on the insta as well because why not (most of them are the teens looking awkward, callie, gary & lars trying to look like cool scientists, or venkman, stanz, zeddemore & melnitz being classic, sassy old people)

the socials are never professional whatsoever, it's fun but it's not heavily controversial or obvious that you're there as a pr manager basically or just to manage the socials

like man they don't have the time to look at all the comments, take all the advice, reply to fans, etc

I mean that wage ain't that bad either LMAO

trevor is always bitching about how you make more money than he does /lh

you're not just a representative to them, you're actually family. you're just cool like that

"bro y/n is such a mc I hate them" and you'll reply on your personal w a "says you, reality shifter" or smthn LMAO idfk

always reposting ghostbuster edits / fanart etc because fandom culture 🙏

also I can't get over the fact the ghostbuster theme song is canon now either. yk damn well that shit is plastered everywhere thanks to you 💀

"do the ghostbusters respond??" "stanz said he loves your dog" "HELP HSEIJDLAKE"

10/10 experience

[snapscube]

Hey Penny! Saw on twitter you talking about it so was curious if you are playing ff7 with any mods? Been meaning to finally play it for the first time as well and looking for any recommendations

yes actually!!! i'm running FF7 through the 7th Heaven mod loader (on my Steam Deck which is possible and wonderful) for my first full playthrough and i'm really loving it. there's some great quality of life stuff in here, BUT do note that all of my mods are purely presentational. increased FPS, higher res textures/FMVs, character model tweaks/upgrades, added field ambience and sound effects. ive done nothing to the game balance or any of the actual gameplay content, as again this is my first playthrough and i didnt want it to be too intrusive. just wanted to play a sort of accumulative Unofficial Remaster.

this is my current modlist

each of them have been configured to my liking with the "configure mod" options so if u do 7th heaven yourself id recommend making sure to tweak those

and heres a quick peek at what it looks like generally

i would show off more if i had some better save files to work with LOL

some of the upscaling on backgrounds and FMVs can look a bit funky at times if you're really paying attention and especially if ur playing on a monitor and sittin close enough to notice. but, like i said, i'm playing on Steam Deck mostly and the overall increase in clarity is really nice so i was willing to make the trade-off.

so far this has been a FANTASTIC way to play through the game for the first time, i'm really happy with the experience so far as someone who has quickly bounced off of FF7 multiple times previously. i've made it further than ever before, i even passed the cutoff point where Remake stops and i'm still going strong!

[i-cant-sing]

Resident Evil has released the remake of RE: 4 and Jesus the fact that Leon can now parry a FUCKING CHAINSAW WITH A KNIFE-

I don't know much about Leon Kennedy except that as a yandere, he would murder anyone and everyone that isn't you without so much as a second thought. Villains? Dead. Chris? Dead. His sneaky links? Dead. The kid at the park who called you "pretty"? Dead-

This is just purely based on his visuals and a few clips I've seen of him, but I know for a fact that the moment he falls for you, he's kidnapped you. There is no chance of dating or courting you the "traditional"/normal way. He deems you far too stupid and naive to know what's good for you (him. He's good for you) and he won't risk it or allow you to waste his time (he just doesn't want u to hurt his feelings) by turning him down.

Now if he was a platonic yandere, you being someone he saw fending for themselves all alone in this, just narrowly missing death every time, again its- IMMEADIATE ADOPTION!! He's albeit a bit softer as a platonic yandere, but he's still a yandere. He's poking his nose in everywhere, but he's good at covering his tracks so you'll never know. And even if you did find out, he doesn't bother making excuses for himself. No no, he straight up owns it, almost a little proud too you'd sense, because he just tells you the truth-

"I'm just worried about you."

Now, he isn't great at manipulation but he does do everything because he actually cares about you. And for his own mental peace as well. Lord knows the number of times he's spent tossing and turning in his bed after he caught you writing in a "secret" journal that you continue in different places every night, but Leon finds it every time.

If you do end up getting hurt, be it by a monster or by your own accord (like getting a paper cut), Leon is... like a mother hen, one could say. He's checking you all over injuries, physical ones at first before moving on to the supposedly "mental" ones. Of course, you have to be traumatised, there's just no way you're not. Others would argue that he's not great with physical affection, but if it were upto him, you'd be attached to his person at all times. Like he looks like he's being awkward with the head pats and the side hugs, but in his mind, he's giving you full ass cuddles.

He's delusional, that's for sure, but he means well. What's the saying-

Pure of heart, dumb of ass.

[solaskisser]

I finished Veilguard, so spoilers ahead!

I didn't really get any pics of the end cause I was focused on what was happening so I didn't capture my Solavellan ending (I think I'll just reload right before it to get pictures before I delete my save) but that truly made me sick I love them sm - when they were speaking Elven to each other like my pookies 😖 Solas in general will always make me so sad. He's so tragic and I love him. Overall though the ending was just wild, I knew something was weird with Varric but I didn't necessarily guess THAT ??? that shit was straight crazy and replaying it is gonna make me like hyper vigilant to how the other characters react cause WHAT do u mean u sit there and let me be crazy as shit low-key. anyway I'm gonna play again and mayhaps I'll play Alya again some time, I still haven't fully decided who I'll play next but I'm excited.

My only complaints really are that I wish there was more romance (which EVERYONE said) Taash's romance was nice, and they're hawt asf but definitely could've had more dialogue and scenes specifically! Especially like I remember telling my partner that I wish I could erase my memory and romance Solas again. His romance was just so good, partly because he's Solas but also I felt there was a decent amount of content in DAI that seemed to fall through in Veilguard. Also, a lot of things felt sort of rushed I guess? Some of the issues or anything like that to me seemed to be briefly brushed upon before we moved to something else. This wasn't everything but it did seem to happen often (like the thing w Solas and Mythal at the very end... there's a lot implied there!)

Overall though the game is very easy to play, which I'll never complain about, I enjoyed most of my companions and it'll be fun to explore other romances, options, and just kind of see what I pick up on now that I know certain things. but yeah, I kinda regret not taking any endgame pics but I'll remake Vela at some point and get that ending again. I'd like to make Phaedrus (my Dorian romance) too at one point so we'll see. It truly has me itching to romance Solas again teehee

I guess one last thing - I'd like to say the theme of the game was very interesting, which I think is why I felt that it fell short right at the end. The theme of regret has a lot of potential and I feel it wasn't as explored as it could've been, but I was still happy for Solas in the end. I can't imagine playing a playthrough where you don't help him 😭 I guess I could maybe understand but I just couldn't do it. I truly feel bad for him at the end of the day. I just wish it explored it a little more like we got to see with Rook in the fade quest.

[absolutebl]

Hey Abl, trust you are well. So I took a month off bl to deal with life stuff and upon my return there's a lot of new shows and I'm feeling overwhelmed and need to prioritize. What should I start with that started airing in late October/November? Spanx!

BL Quick Picks - End of 2023 Releases

That finished its run? Sorry I don't keep that close track of things ending but stuff I loved that ended relatively recently as follows. (I'm giving you a range of styles to suit your mood.)

Felling light and fluffy?

Jun & Jun

(Korea Viki)

A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. Others boys are sniffing around too. Operative word being "sniffing" as much of this romance involves smell. With a snappy (sometimes even raunchy) script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and descent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching. With tons of rewatch potential (especially the last few eps), my only caution is this is for fans of the BL genre only, I don’t think it’ll work for anyone else. 9/10

Feeling complex and drama llama?

I Feel You Linger in the Air

(Thailand grey, YT for some)

I truly loved this time travel romance. IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework (much like Until We Meet Again). Steeped in history and family drama it edges into lakorn (but no as much as To Sir With Love and with way less scenery chewing). This is an elegant and classy BL… from Thailand which normally doesn't even try for classy. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. Pity about the ending. Oh it wasn’t that sad but it wasn’t good either. This show should easily have earned a 10 from me except that it fumbled the… erm… balls. Argh. Whatever. 9/10

Feeling odd and chaotic?

Why R U?

(Korea iQIYI)

Korea decided to remake, of all possible Thai BLs, Why RU? And that is exactly what we got: a short form, clean & pretty, slightly confusing, uneven chemistry, all the same tropes KBL that kind of cliff-noted the original but with none of the heat or complex relationship dynamics. I just … what world is this? Because it is BOTH bizarro land, and EXACTLY what I expected. How do I rate it? In the end I have to go back to simple questions: did I like it, would I rewatch it, and would I recommend it? Yes. Probably. And probably not. What the actual hell? 8/10

Feeling dark and complex?

Tokyo in April is AKA Shigatsu no Tokyo wa

(Japan Viki)

Two young men with a shared tragic past reunite and fall in love all over again, but the past will not stop hunting them. Based on a manga, this office set reunion romance is GREAT… damn it. It’s Japan in full on soft focus which means it gets emo, abusive, and chewy. These two characters are giving parts of their souls away in a desperate attempt to shape themselves to the expectations they have of each other. Japan gave us the Bed Friends that Thailand could never even imagine. But here’s the thing: I don’t enjoy my BL this heavy and cutting. I know that for The 8th Sense crowd this is peak BL and I can’t argue with the fact that the romantic devotion, domesticity, script, and acting IS all on point. It’s just not my personal preference for that point to be so damn sharp. I appreciate that this being 2023 I have the luxury of consistent quality (especially from Japan) and thus the ability to say… I acknowledge that this SHOULD get a 9/10 but I can’t emotionally go higher than 8/10

Feeling sappy and in need of comfort?

Stay By My Side

(Taiwan Viki)

This show was an interesting take on the "ghost boyfriend" trope. About a boy who is tormented by hearing the dead, except when he is around one other boy - desperation+proximity = love. Unfortunately, the story was erratic and waffled about. While the leads turned in solid performances and the sappy domesticity was off the charts, it never really had the strength of the narrative convictions such a strong concept should have supplied. Highly rewatchable and enjoyable for that sappy domesticity but not a whole lot more. Still I always give extra credit for the diabetes-inducing sugar content and rewatch capacity. 8/10 

Feeling sexy?

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho

(Japan Gaga)

I liked it a lot and it's classic yaoi of the kind that really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's higher heat from Japan and well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" trope which is only exacerbated into undiluted frustration by the fact that they're already fucking. It's good, but watching requires more patience than usual, even from Japan. 8/10

Feeling sweet and earnest?

Sing My Crush

(Korea iQIYI)

This a cute coming of age drama around music and 2 kinds of self acceptance and actualization journeys. This was basically Korea’s version of About Youth, and was perhaps a bit too soft and ungrounded by comparison, like a marshmallow sculpture. Sweet but somewhat lacking in discernible flavor. 8/10

If you want to know what I'm enjoying that's airing right now, I'm mot yet caught up this week but I have time today so the weekly ranking will drop in a few hours. But I can tell you with confidence that very little is likely to unseat...

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thailand iQiyi)

from my affections right now. I love it unconditionally and it's airing on iQIYI.

[littlest-bugz]

I think my favorite take on any sort of Sonic creepypasta is made by VibingLeaf on Youtube but is adapted from a written creepypasta by someone called ‪sinuois [unsure of platform they are on]‬. VibingLeaf is a phenomenal horror creator to begin with, they never miss the mark, but this is some of my favorite work of theirs [+ sinuois, but I believe the og creepypasta is in spanish and I cant even read a lick of it other than context clues and basic vocab].

It's a video called SONIC-el_pendrive_azul and is based off of the creepypasta called "El Pendrive Azul" or "El USB Azul".

You start off with a protag who is going through a USB of games from his friend who died of an epileptic seizure [important]. He finds a copy of a sonic game, which seems fine at first but delves into horror at a good pace [imo]. There's a first burst of extremely bright and flashing colors, and after it Sonic dies, right? Well there's this count down accompanied by a picture of sonic with bleeding eyes [NOT hyperrealistic- stylized]. Then what is played out is what I would call an 'epilepsy gif'. Essentially, the gif is trying to trigger an epileptic seizure [this is why I'm recounting it and not directly linking the video- afraid of sending people into a seizure despite a very obvious warning at the beginning]. I believe the first bout of flashing lights and colors is what is meant to truly trigger the epilepsy but after the countdown, it plays again- essentially meaning that if u aren't seizing on the first one, you certainly will be on the second. It's like its checking if you're dead yet.

Why I think this premise is so fucked up is because of how realistic this is. Someone making a troll game to trigger epilepsy is a real, and downright evil, concept. I have seen people post epilepsy gifs in discord servers. I have seen people try to make that sort of gif. It's vile, disgusting and evil, but that's what I love about this creepypasta. The concept that someone would hide an epileptic gif in a sonic game [or any game for that matter] is realistic, as absolutely horrible as it is. And its horrifying, truly. I'm not personally epileptic so I was able to watch the video in full, but as someone who has an epileptic family member, I would be absolutely fucking devastated if that was how he died- a troll game. The thought alone makes me very sad and almost angry, in a way.

Due to its realism, it's phenomenal and disturbing. It definitely fucked me up the first time I watched it- primarily because of the epileptic family member and thinking of that happening to him, but this concept is really fucked in general. Yes, the video is obviously not an accessible video for everyone, but that's kind of the point. It's remaking the creepypasta into a real, tangible video adaptation, so it would obviously include the epileptic gif, since its an integral part of the story and plot. There's a clear warning and I believe timestamps in the comments, but if you're epileptic? Avoid it like the plague- Don't even get curious about it. I'd say read the actual creepypasta instead of watching the video, but I'm unsure of where you could read it, and I'm unsure if its in English or Spanish. If you can read Spanish, go for it, but avoid the VibingLeaf video.

I've never been a fan of Sonic creepypastas- especially Sonic.exe and sonic game creepypastas. But this? Phenomenal and realistic. Fucked up in a way that horror should be- showing the real evilness of people that do those kinds of things.

[pondphuwin]

what's your dream premise for the aouboom series that will hopefully happen in 2025?

hello anon thank u for sending me THE ask ever 🤍

hmm there are two wolves inside me and one of them wants them to do something they've never done before and one of them wants them to do more of what we've seen of them but simply not enough of!

i would loveeee for them to do something with a more serious tone. we got a bit of it in midnight museum and i think the jengpok fight in hidden agenda was one of the highlights acting-wise in the whole show. boom ESPECIALLY did a great job there and it's actually a crime he hasn't done any roles with more heft. also i need them in more mature roles bc i Need them to do nsfw scenes...... u have seen their kiss scenes haven't you....... 🌀🌀 gmmtv you want to give aouboom a sexy mature show soooo bad ooohh 🌀🌀

i also LOVE evil aou he was great in midnight museum and beauty newbie and enchante, so in my DREAMS they would do something where he's a morally gray/anti-hero esque protag against boom who is more of a hero/good guy (perhaps detective/serial killer kind of thing? but also doesn't have to be that high stakes idk). i also loved him as overtly queer max in be my favorite (my most beloved aou character) and i NEED to see him in gay little goth outfits again.

i've seen ppl on twitter say they would like to see them in a my beautiful man remake and i'm kind of down for it—i think they could pass for high school and that's only part of the story anyway. i doubt this would ever happen and i don't think any remake could do the original justice but hypothetically they would slay okay!! any prince/knight kind of dynamic is one of my biggest weaknesses and they just fit that so well (i mean boom IS a princess irl and aou IS obsessed with him so......).

i've also always thought a bl version of you've got mail would be fun, where they're falling in love online/through secret identities but are enemies/rivals irl (or vice versa). aouboom have done enemies-ish to lovers before and i'd love to see them do more of it.

of course i would love to see them in my general wants/weaknesses: high fantasy/supernatural, secret relationship (which they WERE NOT given enough to do with in hidden agenda and we are), #toxicyaoi, parent or guardian/teacher (or something like our dining table but more ~mature~), period bl, fwb to lovers, etc etc

this was kind of a nothing answer mostly bc i want to see them in everything and i don't have a specific premise i want i'm just desperate for ANYTHING! like ultimately, i would be happy with any main roles they get!! i'm such a fan of them not only as a pairing but also as actors in general and i've so badly wished for them to have the spotlight bc they truly deserve it and they could and would bring incredible things to our screen. they have such fun together and they've helped each other grow so much over the years, i know they would do an amazing job as leads. fingers crossed for them!!

[ontheblock]

I liked your loose ends with krauser, hoping that will have a continuation... if u don't mind ofc

i do not mind one bit, anon, trust me. this man lives rent free in my head anyway, they did him SO GOOD in the remake. i didn‘t intend to make him toxic but what can i say? i like em like that

loose ends pt ii

warning: slightest puppy play (jack calls reader dog), oral f receiving, slight dubcon(?) (you‘re literally kidnapped), overstimulation

You remembered your house, your couch. Your boyfriend that you thought was dead for almost half a year. You remembered falling asleep under him, remembered his voice speaking lowly about keeping you.

Your brows creased uncomfortably, eyes pinching tightly together. What did he mean?

You remembered bright lights and white walls but it flashed as fast as you could blink. Antiseptic was a ghost in your nose, burning sharply in your sinuses and coating the back of your tongue. There was something underneath. Something old, stale. Sometimes it smelled like gunpowder.

Why was Jack different?

There was a noise, loud and throbbing in your ears. You tried to roll over and stick your head under your pillow. But there was nothing. And this wasn’t your bed.

It was hard and solid and cold. It smelled different yet again - metallic and new.

Your fingers flexed and twitched as you came to your senses.

“You awake?“

Warm, baritone. Your chest tingled but you also flinched, unnerved that you weren‘t alone and didn‘t even know it. You wanted to curl up, suddenly cold. Crisp air blew across your bare arms, bare cheeks, bare feet. Your toes flexed.

“Thought you‘d be out cold until landing, princess.“

Your eyes cracked open. Your throat felt dry around his name. “Jack?“

A laugh. You turned around, seeing blurry shaped before you - mostly greys and whites. And a person.

The first thing to come into focus was Krauser, casually sitting on a cot across from you in full gear - knife strapped to his chest, tactical vest covering most of his torso and knee pads over his green cargo pants. His hand loosely held a pistol, the other worked a cloth across the metal barrel.

He was looking at you with sharp eyes and it almost distracted you from the fact that you two were in a helicopter, of all places, going god knows where. The deafening noise you woke up to were the rotor blades relentlessly spinning.

You felt nauseous for a moment. Not only because Jack hauled you into a helicopter without telling you where it went, not only because he clearly didn‘t expect you to wake up during the flight but because you didn‘t immediately fear for your life. After everything you still felt safe enough around Jack to not be up in arms the moment you woke up in a strange place with him.

You bit the flesh inside your cheek.

“Where is this going?“

Jack rested his elbows on his knees, still slowly wiping down his gun with practiced hand movements. “Does it matter? It‘s not like we‘re turning back anyway.“

You sat up, realizing that you were asleep on a cot mounted to the helicopter wall - the same one Jack sat on across from you. Your hands tightly held onto the edge. “Of course it matters! You‘re crazy for doing this.“

Jack looked at you from under his eyebrows, face blank and calculating. He put down the rag, tossing it onto the cot next to him into the rest of his cleaning kit.

“We‘re scoping out a village in spain. So how about you put that pretty little head down again because there is nothing you can do to turn his thing around.“

You swallowed around a lump in your throat, watching Jack straighten out and closing the cleaning kit case before stashing it into the bag between his feet.

That didn‘t sound horrible but Jack wasn‘t in the army anymore, not since he was taken out of active commission after his injury. Whatever mission he was on right now could have any objection and it left you uneasy.

You wrapped your arms around you, finally giving in to the cold wind fluttering around you. You shivered, teeth shattering as you exhaled through your mouth.

“You cold, sweetheart?“ You looked at Jack, watched him stand up at full height. He barely needed one step to close the distance between you two.

“I know just the thing for that. Let me warm you right up.“

You exhaled shakily as Jack sank to one knee in front of your cot, holding eye contact the whole way down. Two strong hands came down onto your thighs, sliding up into the soft juncture of your hips to urge your legs apart an inch.

Your hands dropped low, catching his wrists as if you had any considerable strength to stop him.

“Wait.“ Jack raised his eyebrows at you, hands resting on your body easily. He was waiting but he wasn‘t the most patient man. “You still owe me an explanation.“

Jack huffed, lazy grin playing at his lips. His hands crept across your hips, gripping you hard. “Do I really?“

“You really do. What- Jack!“ You almost yelped as big hands yanked at your hips, making your ass slide closer to the edge of the cot. You fell backwards onto your elbows with the sudden movement, all words lost.

Jack wasted no time tugging your bottoms down your thighs and you gasped high and sharp as the wind brushed over your newly exposed skin. Gooseflesh made your skin prickle up and Jack immediately placed his warm palms on the tops of your thighs, kneading the flesh.

He was just touching, just petting over your skin but you twitched ever so slightly with every firm squeeze he gave you, squirming in your place on the cot.

Jack wasn‘t a lover who went slow and soft, never was. It left you standing on your tippy toes in anticipation, your thigh muscles taunt and flexed under his hands.

“Relax for me, yeah? We got a whole lot of time.“

You pressed your lips into a firm line. Easy for him to say.

But he looked so good, so like your boyfriend as he knelt between your legs, large hands holding your thighs.

You breathed out a sigh as those fingers inched into the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart to settle closer to his naked price. But instead of aiming for the target, Jack tilted his head to press warm lips into the inside of your right thigh, breathing you in. Your legs fell open further and you felt Jack‘s lips quirk up into a smile. His mouth parted, teeth sinking into your flesh just enough to hurt.

You yelped and twitched, legs unable to close with rough hands holding them open. Jack mouthed at the imprint of teeth, watching you intently the whole time. When he bit down again right next to the tender spot, you sounded more airy, holding yourself up on one elbow as your other hand slid into his short hair. You tugged, an honest to god bodily reaction to Jack‘s teasing. You didn‘t realize until he made a sound deep in his chest, something like a rumbled protest. His mouth left you.

“Trying to set the pace now? That‘s cute.“

Your bottom lips jutted out, hand uncurling around his strands but still resting on his head. “Don‘t tease me.“ He looked amused, thumbs pressing firm circles in the flesh of your thigh. “Please, Jack?“ You sounded soft, almost thought that Jack didn‘t hear you over the steady noise of the rotor blades.

“Good manners, that‘s how I like it.“

You held your breath as Jack finally leaned in and ghosted his hot breath over your pussy. His hands followed, resting in the sensitive spot where your hips and thighs met.

Finally, his tongue pressed flat against your folds, making you shiver and sigh. He glanced up all while licking a broad strip across your sex, tongue catching on your clit on his way up. You whined, hips chasing his mouth as he pulled back from the first lick. He laughed, one arm laying across your stomach to hold your hips down.

This time he moved back in with purpose now that he had you how he liked you - under his mercy.

His mouth closed around your clit, sucking just enough to make you breathe out his name with need. His tongue flicked over your most sensitive spot. You felt the texture of his scars on your skin but only had half a mind to focus on that. Your eyes screwed up tight but you were sure he was still watching from down there. He always liked watching you, picking apart your reactions to most efficiently give you all the pleasure you could take, sometimes even to distract you from how rough he got with your body when he really wanted to let go and take you.

You cried out in surprise, feeling a thick finger rub through your folds, gathering up slick and pushing in three knuckles deep. The stretch from nothing to just one finger was enough to cause a slight sting but the discomfort got muddled up by Jack sucking and licking your clit. It was almost too much but a second finger soon followed, pressing into your pussy and forcing your walls apart.

“Oh God.. Jack-“ You choked on a moan. His chuckle sent vibrations straight through your pussy and up your spine. You desperately tried to grind against his tongue, his fingers but his arm held you down like steel shackles.

You pressed out sweet little “ah, ah, ah“s with every thrust of his fingers, constantly hitting as deep as they could while the constant stimulation on your clit started to burn with the promise of an orgasm. Your fingers flexed in his hair, frustrated and so desperate to get more, get closer, finally cum on his face.

You moaned, pulling his hair shamelessly. It seemed to catch him off guard, actually burying his face between your legs that much closer, teeth scraping your hypersensitive skin.

Jack grunted, sucking your clit once more before moving his head back and leaving you whining for more.

“Wha-?“ You looked at him, unfocused and confused with the same harsh grip on his hair.

“Change of pace, baby.“ Jack sounded slightly winded, flush spreading just across the tips of his ears. His pupils were blown with lust, chin shiny with spit and your slick. He even pulled out his fingers, holding them up for both of you to see. Jack spread them apart, watching your juices stretch between his digits, running down his hand. You moaned softy at the sight.

“You like that? Seeing how good I can fuck you with just two fingers?“

You nodded, thighs shaking slightly as you were so transfixed on Jack‘s hand until he moved them back between your legs. “You‘re not a dog, are you? Use your words.“ A twinge of arousal caught a breath in your throat at his words and you shamefully hoped Jack didn‘t notice. Two soaked fingertips circled around your clit, deliberately missing where you need him the most. His face inched back down, breath fanning over your slicked hole.

“Y-Yeah. I like it…“

“Mmh. Put those legs on my shoulders, baby.“ You complied, albeit not without effort as your legs felt like jelly and moved just the same.

Jack seemed pleased enough, tongue tracing the rim of your pussy while his fingers finally swiped over your clit, smearing your own juices over the spit he already left there. His arm finally freed your hips in favor of having his other hand join his tongue, spreading your pussy with one thumb to work his tongue into your twitching heat. His lips closed around your sex, fingers now working in a slow rhythm on your clit.

His cheeks hollowed, sucking firmly on your folds while his tongue licked across every inch it could reach. He was groaning into your pussy, no doubt straining against his pants painfully.

The thought made you grind against his mouth. “Gonna- Please, make me cum. Ah, please-“

You were slurring words of nonsense, head thrown back and Jack never even slowed down on your pussy, eating you out like it gave him more pleasure than you. Your stomach felt tight, thighs squeezing his head like a wrench but it did little to stop him.

Your orgasm hit you like a boulder in the chest, hot tears running down your cheek as you sobbed and twitched, legs almost falling off his large frame. But Jack didn‘t care although he clearly noticed your walls constricting wildly from too much stimulation as he tongue fucked you through it.

“Too much! Ahh, I can‘t anymore…“

Your elbows gave out under you, sending you harshly on your back while Jack simply pulled your hips closer, holding them with both hands so his face could bury itself into your pussy, nose bumping into your clit. Every touch against it felt white hot and made you cry but Jack was merciless, not stopping until you wailed and slurred out strings of his name mixed with pathetic “please“.

He finally pulled back, letting your legs fall off his shoulders bonelessly. His hand stroked softly across the tops of your thighs, up your hip bones and across your stomach underneath your shirt. His touch felt electric after such an intense orgasm and you struggled to open your eyes.

He wiped his mouth on the back of one hand, grinning down at you.

“So you liked when I called you my dog, huh?“

[dangoulains-devotion]

my humble onions on That One Bit Of Dialogue™ (you know the part) from that spooky Nibel sidequest

Prefacing this by saying I'm very chill with whatever they decide to end up doing with Vincent as long as it's interesting and not just "surprise twist for the sake of surprise twist" if u get what I mean. And seeing other theories is fun! So I thought I might share my own

But my personal first impression when he said he'd had plenty of chances to pull the trigger but couldn't doesn't necessarily mean he's talking about literally shooting sephiroth. I parsed it more as a "I knew very well that something was likely to go awry with Sephiroth even if the Jenova detail wasn't known to me, I knew that Lucrecia had chosen to experiment on her unborn child, I knew that with Hojo involved it was going to be a disaster, I knew I knew I knew. But I still couldn't bring myself to stop any of it from happening because I couldn't bear to hurt her."

From what I remember from that sit-down at the table flashback scene in Dirge, he was aware that Something was going to happen to this child but he couldn't have known what. If we're going to follow the line of pulling the trigger literally, I felt like it was more aimed at Hojo in that he regrets he didn't shoot first... My man's could've negated like All of FF7 if he'd beaten Hojo to the punch lmfaoghskhg

Vincent very much does not and has never come across as someone to kill a child or consider doing so, sure he was a turk but I feel like the whole thing with Reno after the plate drop was supposed to drive home that as much as they know certain abhorrent things are part of their job, it doesn't mean that they necessarily want to or feel good about it.

I am certainly interested still in what's gone on in the remakes with his situation of what we previously knew as him sleeping for his sins - the room itself didn't seem like it'd been untouched for 30 years and he had that speaker that let him hear yuffie and barret bantering in the elevator... If he had it as a way of alerting him to intruders, and that it would wake him up, then perhaps there was a literal "I failed to shoot" moment when the Nibelheim Incident was about to happen. He'd have known there was people down there when Sephiroth holed himself up if that was the case, maybe he considered it at that point but hesitated for several reasons

But then again! They kept Crisis Core 1:1, and when Zack finds the coffin, unless Vincent was feigning it to be anti-social, he seemed pretty out cold. So maybe he only started to actively move around/have that speaker *after* the Nibelheim Incident because it tore at him to know that something so tragic happened so close and yet he did nothing because he was asleep... So it was a choice made to be more vigilant? Who knows!

This is kinda rambly and somewhat out of order which I apologise for. It's not even my full thoughts about this damn character, we'd be here all day if I unravelled it all in detail! But I do think that, provided Dirge doesn't get retconned completely, it's likely he considers his gravest sin regarding Sephiroth was that he didn't intervene to divert the poor child's fate before it was even born. And when I say intervene I mean stop the experiment from proceeding rather than tucking his tail and letting the woman he cared for make One Real Fucked Up Choice (that's a part of Lucrecia I appreciated and kind of really hope they don't lighten or retcon about her - the way her ambition and drive was her greatest strength but also her worst traits in that it meant her sense of ethics and the like was tossed to the wayside in favour of Progress™ and Science™.)

Who knows honestly! I'm just glad we got to see him and that he's not optional anymore <3 and that he's a dork besides! I'm also very interested in his left eye... There's some parts where his left eye is much more open than his right when he's wincing or when he back flipped out of the coffin... We've seen he can close them both properly but that small detail felt intentional so I guess we'll seeeeee

I wrote this more as a tossing my 2 cents into the pool, and to organise some of my thoughts I suppose... Cid and Vincent were the two parts I was most excited for with Rebirth and after having completed it as well as side quests and the QB storyline I have much 2 think about...

If you read all the way to here then I appreciate u sticking with my rambling... I am mentally unwell about that tragic old man 🫡

[meadowmusing]

my thoughts before the PJO finale

overall? A good fun show but with some definite stumbling. Faithful in a "remake" sense, but as much as a "port" would be. Still a genuinely good time with a likeable cast, gorgeous visuals, and an engaging (mostly) interesting plot.

Beware spoilers for ep1-7!

My biggest gripes

Pacing. the first episode was horribly paced. Somehow both rushed, not well condensed, and yet also failed to effectively deliver tension in important scenes it was needed in. Scenes like the minotaur felt dragged out and lacked the urgency it deserved, and the fight/victory fell kind of flat. Pacing got better in later episodes thankfully.

Sally Jackson. Yeah I know, not a hot take. She's a more realistic depiction of a mother in that kind of situation but I didn't find her likeable outside of her first scene talking about the name Perseus. She's not necessarily a "Bad Character" per se, but she is not the Sally Jackson from the books. Frankly, I didn't find book Sally all that important, but seeing this version has definitely wised me up to importance of her kindness and patience. Sure she might have seemed like a "doormat" at the beginning, but the more u learnt about her, the more her inner strength and self sacrificial love for Percy was apparent. TV Sally just doesn't have that, it doesn't feel like she has that much affection for Percy, she seems more distant and less loving. TV Sally has far too many scenes of her raising her voice at Percy and being frustrated with him, it makes it seem more like she was randomly stuck with this child and while she loves him, she knows deep down she would have been happier without him. Again, understandable but not book Sally. I feel they've sort of played up Percy's fierce love for his mum (or maybe it just feels more so because its more present in his spoken lines), but it doesn't feel as justified. If anything, id believe a more messy wrought relationship between the two. Its not a bad thing she's not the exact same as her book counterpart, but I do think it was a bad decision when they went so hard on Percy being ride or die for her, when most of her longer scenes are her being just frustrated with Percy being a child.

Gabe. ok more of a hot take I guess but I seriously disagree with his re-characterization. I don't mean to downplay anyone's experiences with toxic or abusive partners, but Gabe is far too bland and inoffensive. At worst, he's kind of annoying and maybe lazy. But he is nothing like the human sht stain that was book Gabe. Book Gabe deserved petrification and a lot worse, TV Gabe does not. The guy deserves a break up, not murder. Me and my friend actually laughed at him, because he didn't give "beats his wife and emotionally abuses her and her child", he gave "dead beat crypto boyfriend". Maybe it was the casting as well, the actor was funny and just seemed more goofy than actively horrid. "what makes u think he hasn't hit sally?" have u met TV Sally?? are u kidding me? she would have that man arrested.

Hades. I don't actually dislike making Hades friendly and more sassy. Sure its not book accurate, but you could argue its a little more mythologically accurate (maybe). My real problem is that he lacks PRESCENCE. Yes he can be nicer ect in this, but he is still the GOD OF THE UNDERWORLD. He should still be able to command a room! His words, even if they're not malicious or intimidating, should hold a certain kind of weight. I don't blame the actor here, I think he does well with what he's given but pretty much everyone else dropped the ball here. If they had supported him, we could have had a friendly Hades that was still a fitting lord of the underworld. Writers, directors, lighting, sound, ect let him down.

Persassy. Percy was great in the beginning but I felt like he started to lose that as the show went on, to give more of his lines/sassy moments to the other members of the trio. Which wasn't a terrible idea, I just think they did it too much, especially with the Ares scenes. Percy is meant to have an epic beef with Ares so much it transcends magic amnesia, but I could not believe that with the current lack of sass. Even the upcoming battle doesn't feel as weighty or deserved as it should. Again, don't hate the idea of sharing the sass around, just don't think it should come at the cost of Percy being toned down so much.

Getting into the underworld / mattress scene WHAT WAS THAT. I can accept that Percy knows more about Greek mythology because of his mom and i feel generally from just current cultural zeitgeist, but WHY THE HELL WOULD HE KNOW WHO CRUSTY IS?? and why was it so quick? there was no quick desperate clever thinking, it was like bro had read the scene from the book and then SPEED RAN IT. Also the Charon scene was far more interesting imo and I don't like that they cut it in favour for Crusty, without even doing that scene well. God that was so poorly executed.

Anyway thanks for reading my rant. Its long so it may seem like I didn't like the series but im being truthful when I say I did. I pretty much liked the rest of it, even some of the changes. I thinks a good show and adaption with some flaws, thats all. Im excited to finish up the season and im so pumped for season 2 and hopefully the rest of the series :D

[delightfulwombatyouth]

Deleted my reddit account. Made a post asked a simple question and again all I get are sarcastic comments, or calling me dumb, or only half reading my post and then insulting me or asking me why I'm not doing something I said I was.

The more I think about it the worse opinion u have of reddit. I used to think it wasn't as bad as Twitter or Instagram or tiktok because it allowed longer replies and comments but realistically 99% are still short, and many people are still writing their answers through the lense of trying to get upvotes which leads to everyone responding with the same answers to the same questions, similar to how now every movie is a remake or sequel because there's less risk forging new ground.

Additionally a lot of subreddits depending on what you're into, have exhausted the topic and there's nothing left to talk about.

Ultimately I found that more often than not the times I use it and interact with others, I left feeling upset, angry, thinking about a comment for longer than I care to admit, all the while not knowing if it was some 12 year old or AI chat bot that got me mad and is not worth my emotional bandwidth.

The few times I felt good, it was from getting upvotes on a post I made and 1) sometimes that came from proving someone else wrong, sometimes in a mean way or at best 2) I should not care about Internet points period.

Social media has completely ceased the facade of being about socializing, making friends, even if they are only online friends, it's about accruing followers or likes above actual connection and I just don't see the value in that anymore. What used to be a minor aspect of social media has now become the primary goal and once again human dignity has become secondary to appeasing some technology or algorithm.

I do like Tumblr a bit more since people seem nicer generally speaking, maybe due to sharing their face and being able to really see into others lives a bit more. There's still definitely power users here but all I can say is I have yet to get as mad at this place as reddit has made me from interacting with others here.

[knizuu]

Talk to me abt uhhh anything- Fang, Petey, OC, idc. ANYTHING U WANT💖💖

PLEASE IM GENUINELY INTERESTED IM NOT DOING THIS JUST CUS U LET ME- /gen

I get so nervous writing asks wtf

DUDE IM SO DUCKING HAPPY +omg same </33

COUGH well imma go in order lets go with the

FANG🫧….

SIGHH I LOVE HIM SM. tbh I see how people react to the recent idw miniseries which left the Hooligan fans really sour </33 to me, though, it wasn’t too bad?? I see how it works and honestly the only sad part to me is WHY DID HOOLIGANS BREAK UP AUH but im so used to “sonic canon ew” so like-I should’ve expected that sigh. So I can reason with how excited people headcannon/draw/make whatever of the guy it’s really cool since we all kinda agree? Like even with such a variety we all take the guy lovingly <33 which is sweet :> like its pretty chill-WHCIH IS FUNNY because Im actually really scared in small communities <- i made a post bout it once i-I EAT UP ANY FAN MADE FANG CONTENT FR i love all fangs really [so far] ^ ^ tbh even my school knows that-I did pottery of him, drawn him, spoke of him, my teacher saw a drawing of Fang I did and HE QUOTE: I was looking for that [SIR I GET IT IM PREDICATABLE/silly]

PETEY💠

Ok as much as heartfelt I feel about Fang-Petey is just some other freak of nature my family knows. I’m NOT EVEN JOKING-MY MOM SANG ABOUT HIM WHILE MAKING LUNCH/GEN GEN GEN-cough. Idk why but ever since my brother [the first dog man fan obviously] inserted dog man into my family [by 1. SHOWING MY FANART/BOOKS TO MUM 2. LETTING ME SING THE MUSICAL ALL DAY LON-/positive fs] its been insane/sILLY because-who expected everyone to say ��Papa Petey” [i do NOT know how some typo made mo-ok my mom has a Petey problem/sILY AGAIN] in the car-at home…NOT ME THATS WHO. WHY IS PETEY SUCH A NORMAL THING IN MY HOUSEHOLD/positive sigh

OC🌸

OKK well they are ALMOST a wasteland but I have an original story to bring some ocs to life ^ ^ [including-sigh vague mention-the space dog lady and red haired lady ocs i have :3] ESSENTALLY: I’m calling it Brink of Bryony!! [Bryony is about a flower but in plot idk a city??] it’s just a human loser [red haired lady MAYBE] meeting alien folk [Cordella is there…i showed her ONCE] like my self insert hehe [Norolist] because OH NO beeg mister evil guy wants to take over Earth and this NICE alien people gonna protect it! That’s the entire thing, very unserious lmao. Pyrexavul is my precious <33 I don’t think I shared him?? I’ll share em all sometime hehe im too lazy LMAO. So yes yes I’ve been into making that story recently :> !!

ANYTHING🦐

OK SO my Luxury AU has been MANIFESTING MOI cuz i decided: why yes I WILL make a fic bout it!! Yknow just remaking the lore[cough this means me rewriting the first book of DogMan] and putting some stuff into one work ^ ^’ SO FAR I’m really getting into the vibes but what’s crazy is how I turned what I THOUGHT was oughta be a comedy-to a tragedy. No like I KNOW IM GONNA WRITE CUTE STUFF I WILL I JUST-….also might’ve included grief, addiction, ETC I dont even know how I got there 🙂‍↔️but it’s been fun! Especially since it makes me go down a nice study check with me lmao [I’ve been learning the medical field, laws, how media handles stuff, types of _, etc] hehe rubbing my hands together imma be so happy to write it all hehe and with that I’m learning about my characters a lot better! I thought of it more one noted because its a good start but now im actually learning more bout em :0 !! Love reworking stuff, redesigning, it’s been a huge part of me since idk when ^ ^’

COUGHHHH i think that all works out!! TYSM FOR ASKING I CANNOT EXPRESS THE WHIMSY I FEEL RN <33