#all week I’ve been trying to figure out the collar bc we can only make it a certain width so I found a loophole to getting a sailor esque
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sparklepony · 1 year ago
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Not going home this weekend so I’m making soup and doing coursework lfg!!!!
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familyvideostevie · 2 years ago
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you genuinely make my day every time we interact ive never had a true mutual this is so fun <3
wanted to try requesting bc i’ve never done it before i don’t think ?? and you write the best fluff mwah mwah
could i get an x steve/eddie (you can pick which!!) where the reader is just really homesick? i’m about to head off to college and i’m already feeling all the sadness ab leaving my fam and dogs behind 🥲 would love someone to comfort me right about now
darling bri! thank you for requesting this, i am honored to write for you! this is a really relatable feeling and i know you will be okay, and i hope this fic emphasizes that! so here's eddie for you <3 | 1k, fluff, fem!reader
You've only been at college for a month and it has been fun. So many new experiences at once have kept you busy, but now that you're settled and have some friends and are used to your classes, you find that most nights you feel a pit in your stomach. You're homesick. But you look around in lecture, in the dining hall, and you tell yourself that no one else is feeling this way. It doesn't seem like it, anyway, so you're a bit embarrassed and don't bring it up to anyone. Your life is a new adventure but you miss home.
Your dorm wall is already almost covered with postcards from the kids and your friends and family, but every night you look at them and just want to be somewhere else. Even though you call your parents and write letters every week, the feeling rolls over everything like a dark cloud and you know you need to figure this out so you don't spend the next few years like this.
So, you're standing in front of the dorm phone debating whether or not to call Eddie. It's Wednesday night, so you know he'll be at home planning Hellfire. But you don't want to bother him because part of you feels pathetic, feels juvenile. Part of you doesn't want to admit that this feeling is even real. But Eddie has never made you feel any of those things, never made you feel small or like your emotions were insignificant. So you pick up the phone and dial the number you know by heart.
The line rings and rings and rings and you feel a warm pressure behind your eyes and you think oh god, oh no, it's okay, I'm fine, don't cry don't cry don't cry. But you hear a click and Eddie's voice is in your ear.
"Hello?" He sounds out of breath. The tension melts from your frame and your mouth stretches into a smile automatically.
"Hi, Eddie. It's me."
"It's you!" he cries, so loud that you have to pull the receiver away as you laugh. "Sorry I almost missed you, sweet thing. I was having a cig."
"S'okay."
"You okay? Don't get me wrong, it's a fucking gift to hear your voice, but usually you call on Friday after class." Eddie knows you better than anyone and the question might have felt patronizing from someone else, but you've always loved how he sees you even when you're hundreds of miles away. You close your eyes and feel braver talking to him, brave enough to tell the truth on the first try.
"Everything is fine. I'm just feeling homesick." There's some shuffling like he's moving the receiver from ear to ear as he walks around his trailer. You know he's a pacer on the phone -- he can never sit still. You picture him in your mind: cheeks flushed from sitting outside, hair a mess where he runs his hands through it, shuffling around in sweatpants and a wrinkled t-shirt with holes in the collar. Always looking like something right out of your wildest dreams, always looking like Eddie. God, how you love him.
"Tell me about it," he coos. "If you want to." You curl your fingers into the hem of the sweatshirt you're wearing. It's his, of course, one of the things he gave you when he helped you pack. Your other favorite, one of his rings, is heavy and cool on your thumb.
"Not much to tell," you reply. "Just feel like I'm the only one who misses home. Makes me feel like a little kid and not like a college student."
"I bet you are not the only one," he says right away. "Actually, I know you aren't. Wheeler calls Jonathan all the time and says the same thing. He's told me himself!"
"Really?" Eddie wouldn't lie to you, and it makes you feel a little better to know Nancy Wheeler also misses your kind of fucked up town and all the wonderful people in it.
"Yeah, honest. It's totally normal to miss it. I bet if you asked anyone they'd say they feel it too." You sniffle, but the roiling pit is already turning to the warm fondness he always causes in your chest.
"I mean, I'll be home for Thanksgiving before we know it."
"Exactly!" he cries. "Bet I could convince your mom to let me pick you up. Eight hours in the car, no problem. We'll have a road trip!"
"Don't know if the van will make it that far, baby," you joke. You can almost hear him smiling through the line.
"I'll make Harrington let me borrow his car. GIve him free weed for a year, or something." He's done what you had hoped he'd do and cheered you up, taking your mind off of the self consciousness and making you feel settled, making you feel hopeful that you'll figure it out.
"Listen, sweetheart," he says, voice raspy and quieter and you can almost pretend he's right next to you, breath warm on your cheek. "You're always going to miss home. Sometimes a lot, sometimes a little, but it's going to be here for you when you come back. I'm going to be here for you when you come back."
"I do miss you, too" you tell him. "You're my home as much as Hawkins and my family are." He hums, a pleased, bright sound.
"Wish I could hug you right now, baby. I miss you so much." He sighs. "But I'm gonna be here to hold you and kiss you and see your face light up when you tell me all about college, yeah?"
"I love you, Eddie." You say it like a prayer, like a wish, like a promise.
"Call me anytime you feel like this. Because I love you, too." He makes a sound that must be a yawn. It travels through the phone to you, and you yawn, too. "Now go do your homework or something academic. You're the smart one!"
You laugh and say goodnight, walking back to your room a little lighter, a little more sure. Eddie's reassurance echoes in your ears. You'll be alright, just like he said. And when you go home again he'll be waiting.
want to be added to my tag list for full-length (non-ask) fics? send me a message and specify for steve, eddie, or both!
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fandom-puff · 5 years ago
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hi i have a request! imagine for tommy he picked you up at the bar so he doesn’t know you very well but you guys ~do the nasty~ and later he overhears from your one friend telling lizzie that you faked your orgasm and he hunts you down determined to make you cum for real
HI! thanks so much for this request- I adored writing it!
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: SMUTSMUTSMUTSMUT also swearing bc... peaky blinders?
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It was the grand opening of the Shelbys’ new bar, and naturally, almost all of Small Heath was crammed into the main room. The whiskey and gin (from Shelby Company Limited, of course) was flowing, and the Swing Band was playing loudly, much to the joy of the inebriated men and women dancing. You hummed to yourself, touching up your lipstick before calling for another round for you and your girlfriends, Ada and Lizzie. “You want another drink, Linda? Maybe just stout?” you asked, getting your coin purse out. 
“Don’t bother yourself. I won’t succumb to that temptation. Just tonic water for me,” you rolled your eyes and soon received your drinks. “So you won’t touch gin, but you’ll happily play in the snow, eh?” Ada smirked, winking at you as she sipped her drink. You spluttered into your own. 
“Come on, ladies,” you said, sensing the tension growing between sisters-in-law. “Let’s dance before the band starts playing that American rubbish,” 
Together, you joined in with the dancing, giggling and cheering each other on. “C’mon Lizzie! Spin me around! I wanna be twirled,” you squealed, and the taller woman happily complied. You were new to the company, and she wanted to make you feel welcome before the boys scared you off. Soon you left the dancefloor, leaving the girls, to get another drink. You arrived at the bar, giggling and breathless, and ordered your favourite drink.
 “Miss YLN,” a low voice rumbled next to you as the bartender poured your drink. “I don’t believe we’ve properly met. Been keeping the books, eh? My brother John says you’ve very neat handwriting, and hardly cross any number out,” You nodded as your eyes met Thomas Shelby’s.
 “Oh… yes, Mr Shelby,” you murmured. “I try to make them neat so you lot don’t get muddled up,” you said. He nodded. The bartender put your drink in front of you and you reached for your purse. Tommy stopped you and gestured to the bartender that your drink ought to be on the house. 
He soon took you into the side room, kicking Finn and Isiah out. “My secretary, Lizzie, recommended you to me,” he said as you perched opposite him. He lit a cigarette, rubbing it along his lip before taking a drag. “And I’ve been trying to figure you out. Couldn’t find anything,”
“I didn’t grow up ‘round here. When my mum died I took her maiden name. Most of her lot were killed. The Somme, I think,”
“And your dad?” he asked, watching you as you drank.
 “The bastard died in France too, as far as I know. But I left home after Mum died. That was before the war,” 
An hour later, you were still talking, although the pair of you had drained a bottle of whiskey. You were giggly and warm when drunk, but Tommy only closed in more. This didn’t bother you in the slightest. You leaned forward and smirked. “So, Mr Shelby, do I meet your approval, eh?”You were so close to him, and your pupils were dilated with what could only be described as a mixture of inebriation and desire. 
“Yes. Yes, you do. C’mere,” he grunted, dragging you into his lap. He pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, his hand already running up your thigh. You groaned and wriggled, sucking his lip into your mouth, grinding your heat onto his tenting trousers. He growled, unbuckling his belt and shoving his trousers down, and tearing your knickers down. He stood up, bending you over the table, before rutting into you animalistically. You whimpered, crying out, pushing back into him. His thrusts soon became sloppy, and you reached to stroke your pulsing clit- but he grabbed your hand as soon as he saw you moving, pinning you down and shouting out his release. It was a good job the band had started playing a popular song, otherwise, the whole of Birmingham would have heard you. 
You panted, expecting him to carry on thrusting to bring you over the edge. Instead, you heard the sound of a belt buckle and the door slamming shut.
 The experience sobered you up slightly and you straightened your dress, fixing your lipstick and hair before slipping out of the side room. You bumped into Lizzie and told her you were going home, as you were working in the morning. She nodded and took in your dishevelled (despite your best efforts) appearance. “Get some rest,” she said knowingly, giving you a wink.
 The next day, you arrived at work despite your headache. You lit a lamp, as it was still a little dark out, and started on the books, flicking through the notes scribbled by various members of the Shelby clan. You worked in peace for ten minutes before Lizzie and Pol came into the room, chatting. 
“There she is. How’s your head?” Lizzie grinned, sliding you some aspirin. You smiled gratefully and took the tablets.
 “Holy shit,” Pol commented, staring at the bruise on your throat. You blushed deeply and tugged your collar closed. You hated wearing this blouse buttoned all the way up, but needs must. 
“Wild night, eh?” Lizzie asked, getting her own paperwork sorted as Pol went to fix tea. 
“Not really,” You sighed, looking down. You wanted to ground to swallow you whole. 
“Oh, piss off. You came out of that side room five minutes after Tommy, looking like you’d been dragged through a hedge backwards, and you show up to work with a dirty great love bite on your throat,” she grinned. “I’m not judging you, by the way. If anything I’m impressed. He’s been a right prick lately,” 
“And he was a right prick last night,” you hissed. “Moody bastard, and a lousy fuck as well. Didn’t even finish me off, I had to fake it in the end,” you glared down at your paperwork. Lizzie chuckled and rubbed your shoulder gently. Polly came back into the room with the cups and teapot, pouring for you all.
 “So who’s the man? Boyfriend we haven’t heard of?” She asked, smirking. 
“It was Tommy, Pol,” Lizzie explained. You kept your eyes down. “Apparently he’s a lousy fuck. Our poor YN was treated worse than the back alley whores by the sounds of it,” 
Prolly frowned and set your tea in front of you. “Wouldn’t think a lousy fuck would leave that mark,” she said slyly. “Use a cold spoon and some powder when you get home,” she advised. 
“And then tonight, go dancing and get a man who’ll treat you right, eh?” Said Lizzie. “You deserve better than someone rutting against you like a dog,”
The two women had cheered you up significantly and you smiled weakly until Arthur’s loud voice cut across your conversation.
 “Rutting like a dog? Was that what you and Tommy were up to last night?” He grinned, having overheard,  and you flushed angrily. 
“Hey, no need to be embarrassed, YN, you are a pretty little thing-” he said, his smile dropping when he saw that his banter wasn’t making you laugh like normal.
 “No. I���m not embarrassed. If anything, I’d be embarrassed for your brother. Who would’ve thought Thomas Shelby didn’t know his way around a woman, let alone how to properly please her!” You turned around. “Pol, I’m going home. My head is banging and I need to concentrate on these books. Arthur’s done all the adding up wrong. Dock my pay if need be,” You took the heavy leather-bound book and tucked it under your arm, before storming out of the betting shop, right past Tommy without even noticing. 
The peace of your home was what you needed. You brewed yourself a pot of tea with the nice teabags you had picked up from the market, and settled yourself at your rickety old desk, going through the books and copying them up neatly, and more importantly, precisely. You even hummed to yourself, soon letting the stress of the previous night slowly fade away. 
That was until there was a sharp knock on your door. You sighed, getting up. There was another knock. “Alright! I’m coming. Rent’s not due for another week, though!” You called, going to take the door off the latch. 
There in the doorway, in all his glory, was your boss. His cap was drawn over his face and he blew out a breath of smoke. “YN. Can I come in?”
 You wanted nothing more than to slam the door in his face and lock it, put the chain on and drown him out with your rusty gramophone.  But-
“Fine. But put that cigarette out before you step over my threshold. The last tenant was a bad smoker and I’ve only just got the smell out of the cushions,” when the door shut, you turned around, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Mr Shelby?” 
“Mr Shelby, is it now?” He asked, smirking. “That’s no way to greet a guest, is it. Are you going to offer me a drink?”
 “No, I’m not. You don’t take me as one for cold tea with no milk,” you quipped. “What do you want?”
 He arched his brow, looking you up and down as if you were a fresh cut from the butcher. You stood a little straighter, determined not to look small. “What I want, YN, is to know what your little fuss was about earlier on,” he said lowly. 
You scoffed. “Oh please. You know exactly what it was about, and even if you didn’t, I’m sure the boys would’ve informed you,” you said coldly. “If you must know, I was pissed. Still am. Because I let you… have me. And I’m pissed because you treated me like a common whore, and I’m pissed because everyone knows and will think less of me,” you said, flushing, brow furrowed. 
“And what’s all this about being a lousy fuck, eh?” He asked, face like stone. 
“Oh you heard that part well enough, didn’t you?” You suppressed an annoyed laugh. “It’s true. You are a lousy fuck. D’you bend all your women over and hump them like a dog in heat or am I just special?” 
“YN…,” he said, voice low, standing up and walking to you.
 “You know, I’ve had better shags when I was a teenager. At least the lads I used to go out with had the decency to finish me off once their balls were empty!” You ranted, unaware of him stalking closer and closer, like a panther on the prowl. 
He pushed you against the wall, arms braced either side of your head. You gulped. Had you pushed him too far? You looked up at him through your lashes, and couldn’t help but lick your lips, your breath already becoming shallow. “Finish you off, eh? Is that what you want?” He asked lowly, leaning to growl in your ear, sending a shiver that crawled all over your skin and made your eyelashes flutter. 
You bit your lip and nodded. “Y-yes…” you whispered.
 “Yes, what?” 
“Yes please, Mr Shelby,”
 That was all he needed. He gripped your hips and pulled them tight against his, kissing you ferociously, his hands gripping, squeezing, stroking every inch of you he could reach. You moaned against his mouth and scrabbled at his heavy coat and jacket, pushing them to the floor. You began fumbling with his belt when he grabbed your wrists, holding the, above your head.
 “Ah Ah Ah,” he said roughly. “I intend to make up for last night. And believe me, YN, I’m feeling particularly generous tonight,” He hoisted you up by the thighs and held you against him, carrying you to your bedroom and kicking the door shut. He deposited you onto the bed, before looking down at you. “Dress. Off.” He demanded, and you all too eagerly complied, much to his satisfaction, casting it aside, quickly followed by your slip, leaving you in your knickers and bra. He chuckled darkly at your eagerness, and when you went to undo your garter and stockings, he halted your hands, shaking his head. You nodded obediently and watched as he kneeled down in front of you. You pressed your knees together, but he tutted and caressed your legs, from ankle to thigh. 
“Don’t be shy, YN,” he murmured.
 “No one’s ever…” you whispered, shifting your thighs together. He cocked his brow up and smirked. 
“No one’s ever what, pet?” He asked, pushing your thighs apart and making quick work of your stockings. “Tasted you? Not even all those boys who knew how to please you, eh?” 
You nodded and bit your lip, gasping at the new sensation of his hot breath skittering across your core as he pressed filthy, open-mouthed kisses against your heat. He nipped the inside of your thighs to get you to spread them further and inhale your musk, shuddering at the scent of your arousal.
 “You won’t even remember your own fucking name once I’m through with you, love,” he promised, stroking his finger lazily up the seam of your underwear, pressing it against your clit. You clenched your fists into the sheets, thighs already trembling. This did not go unnoticed, and Tommy chuckled darkly at your desperation. “So responsive,” he murmured, dragging your underwear down torturously slowly, before burying his face between your legs. You whimpered as you felt his tongue running up your slit, gathering your arousal before he swallowed with a groan, gripping your thighs tightly and holding them apart. He traced your sopping folds with the very point of his tongue, his nose occasionally bumping your swollen clit, but giving it nowhere near enough attention for your liking. 
“Tommy please!” You whimpered after at least ten minutes of him scrubbing the flat of his tongue against your heat, nipping at your thighs, and even pushing his tongue into you. He pulled away and looked up at you with raised eyebrows, your slick glistening obscenely on his chin.
 “Please, what, YN? Use your words,” he demanded.
 “Please, touch me!” You cried, shifting your hips, trying to get some friction to your needy clit.  
“Touch you where YN? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” he said smirking cockily, pinning your hips down to still you.
 “On my… my… here!” You whimpered, reaching a hand down to flick at your throbbing nub. “Please, Tommy, please!” 
He growled and knocked your hand away, instantly attaching his lips to it, sucking like a man starved and flicking his tongue under the hood. You cried out and tipped your head back, gripping whatever handful of hair you could, swearing like a sailor. “Oi. Watch. Eyes on me.” He commanded, although slightly muffled by your writhing hips. You whined softly but nodded, focusing on watching the gorgeous man devouring you. Your eyes fluttered when you felt a familiar tension building up in the pit of your belly, your clit beginning to throb against his tongue. Your breath came in sharp gasps, and you bucked your hips up, desperate to tip over the edge, so close already-
Then… nothing.
 You groaned, glaring down at the man before you, who still held all the power despite being on his knees. You whined trying to grab him back. “What the fuck? Please, I was so close!” You said, intending to sound angry, but actually sounding needy and desperate. He grinned. 
“I know,” Bastard. He repeated this routine several times, bringing you right up to the edge, but dragging you away at the last moment, until you were practically sobbing with need. When he had taken his fill of your nectar, he worshipped your breasts, sucking and nipping and kissing and lathing his tongue over your nipples until you were writhing, arching your back, convinced you would cum from this stimulation alone. 
“Please, Tommy!” You whined, fingers tangled in his cropped hair as he sucked a dark mark on your breast. “Please, Tommy, you’ve proved your point, please!” You sounded pathetic, begging like a whore, but to be quite frank, you could give a bigger fuck if you tried. “Just… please, Tommy, I need you. Need to feel you,” you whispered, stroking his jaw as he resurfaced, his piercing eyes trained on yours. “Need you to fill me up, claim me… I’m yours, Tom. Don’t you want to feel me cumming all over your cock?” 
Your words were meant to rile Tommy up, but they made you shift and whimper and buck despite yourself. “Good girl,” he whispered. “I’m very impressed with you. I’m going to fuck you, YN, and I’m going to do it properly,” You nodded eagerly and watched with glazed eyes as he discarded his waistcoat, shirt and trousers. You licked your lips as he dropped his underwear, groaning at the sight of his long, thick cock bouncing free, already leaking.
 All for you. 
You whimpered as Tommy crawled up the mattress towards you, already spreading your legs for him. “Please,” you whispered, reaching for him. He nodded, slowly pushing himself into you, bracing his elbows either side of your head. You cried out at the stretch of him, arching your back to press into his warm chest. Already, you were digging your nails into his back, and he grunted at the feeling of your walls clenching onto him for dear life.
 “Fucking hell,” he groaned into your neck, drawing back almost completely, before driving back into you with slow, measured movements, his forehead pressed to yours as he fucked you slowly, yet each thrust was ended with a sharp snap of his hips. You whined out, throbbing around him, trying to meet his thrusts with faster, needier ones of your own.
 “More, Tommy, more!” you cried out, scrabbling your nails down his back, clinging to his shoulder blades. You raised your legs to wrap them around his waist, angling your hips up more, eyes rolling at the deeper penetration gained by the new angle. “Please, faster,” you begged, writhing eagerly beneath him. “Please?” you whimpered, practically sobbing with need. 
Tommy grunted and nodded, holding you tight to him as he fucked you harder, faster, more relentlessly, growling into your ear, before suckling dark marks down your throat and to your collarbone. Moaning, he pistoned his hips into you, each thrust bumping delicious pressure onto your aching clit. It was too much. 
You moaned wantonly, arching your back and biting his shoulder. “Fuck Tommy, I’m gonna cum,” you whined, clinging to him, not wanting him to pull away before your release again.
 “Good girl,” he groaned. “Cum around my cock, love, that’s what you want. That’s what I want,” he grunted, his thrusts sloppy and harsh. With his permission, you yelped out, crying his name as you came, seeing white spots, even when you clenched your eyes shut. Feeling you clench around him like a vice, he shouted his release, spurting into you, filling you with his hot cum. 
Panting, he pulled out, and for a moment you worried he would buckle up his belt and leave you like a whore again, but the mattress dipped beside you as he lay down. He drew you into his side, holding you close. 
“You alright?” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “You okay, love?” you nodded, resting your head on his chest, breathing deeply. 
“I-I… more than alright,” you murmured, causing him to chuckle. He lit a cigarette and grinned, rubbing your side as you drew the covers around you both.
 “So, still think I’m a lousy fuck, eh?” he smirked. You grinned and looked up, reaching to kiss him.
 “Not sure,” you said cheekily. “That might have been a fluke. You’ll have to repeat that display a few more times so I know you didn’t just get lucky,”
 “Oh, I got lucky all right,” he smirked. “Sleep. We’ll take the day off work tomorrow, and I’ll show you that wasn’t a fluke, eh?”
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marveloussupernerd · 4 years ago
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Packing - TsukiYama
Hello ! Midterms finally ended and I am just: suffering. But I wanted to put something out and this came into my brain the other day
Warnings: Tsukki swears bc it’s Tsukki
Summary: Tsukishima & Yamaguchi have a fight. Swear it isn’t too much angst and you won’t be like depressed by the end (this takes place in the future btw)
“Tsukki, I’m home!” Yamaguchi yelled as he walked through the front door, shutting it behind him and slipping off his jacket to hang it in the closet.
Tsukki bounded down the stairs of their shared home to meet his fiancée at the door. “Missed you.” He pulled Yams into a hug. “How was your day at work?”
“Eh,” He shrugged. “It was fine. It wasn’t the best Thursday I’ve ever had.” His eyes lit up. “Hey! Do you have any plans this weekend? Practices or work meetings or anything?”
Tsukki paused to think. “Believe it or not, I’m actually completely free. Why? Hinata wants to go on another double date?”
Yamaguchi rolled his eyes, pushing the taller man playfully. “Noooo. I just wanted to spend time with you. Without having to be stressed about anything.”
“Not even wedding planning?”
Yamaguchi motioned that he was zipping his lips. “I won’t even say a thing about wedding planning this weekend. Just some chill time for us. I think it’ll be nice.”
“Does sound nice.”
Yamaguchi tilted his head up slightly to kiss his fiancée on the lips, then bounded up the stairs, calling “I’m gonna get changed real quick!” as he did so. All Tsukki could do was shake his head and laugh at how cute he was.
Yamaguchi took off his dress clothes, absolutely wiped out and more than happy to get out of the itchy collar of his shirt. He went to throw the shirt into the hamper, only to see it still missing. “Tsukki!” He called. “Did you get the clothes washed today?”
“Huh?” His fiancée called back from downstairs. “Oh, shit I forgot. I’m sorry.”
He froze. Damn. He was running out of dress clothes to wear to work. He had things, just not anything he liked wearing, not anything comfortable. It was unfortunate.
Tsukki bounded up the steps, making Yamaguchi jump with his voice so nearby. “I don’t think you heard me. I forgot, I’m sorry Yams.”
Yamaguchi glanced towards the man now standing in the doorway and took a deep breath. This really wasn’t the end of the world, just today being so bad at work made things seem worse than they were. “It’s okay!” He cheered back. “If you put the laundry bag in my car I can do it after work tomorrow.”
“No! I can still do it. I just forgot today. I’m sorry.” Tsukki was scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. It clearly hadn’t even crossed his mind.
“No, don’t worry about it.”
“But I can-“
Yamaguchi chuckled slightly. It was... slightly off. Was he getting irritated? Not even he could tell. “I mean, you were supposed to do it Tuesday, then forgot. Then Wednesday. Then today. Just let me do it? I’m running out of nice shirts to wear to work.”
“I’m sorry Yams. I genuinely forgot,” Tsukki frowned, making his way over to the other boy.
“No, it’s not your fault. I have to do laundry way more often than you. In fact, we can just split it up so I do my own and you do your own? That way you don’t have to go more often than you need to.”
He frowned even harder. “No-“
“It’s okay.” Yamaguchi forced a smile. “I understand wanting to be independent. Yeah. Let’s do that.”
He left the room without another word, leaving Tsukishima speechless in their bedroom. What just happened? It felt like this was a step back.
Yamaguchi came back a minute later, laundry bag in hand, dumping it out and getting to work separating the couple’s clothes into different piles. He did so meticulously, making sure not even a sock would end out in the wrong pile. Tsukishima made no effort to stop him nor to help him. He still was confused as hell.
They ate dinner in absolute silence. What was either of them supposed to say? It seemed like the other actually wanted this. Were they really fighting over this? It sucked.
Yamaguchi didn’t let himself cry until he got into the shower, sitting on the floor and letting the water fall over his head. What had he done wrong? Was the wedding stuff too overwhelming? Now Tsukki didn’t even want to share laundry machines.
“Tadashi.” Yamaguchi snapped his head up to see his fiancée at the shower door, holding a towel in his hand. How long had he been sitting in the shower? How long had Tsukki been here?
“I...” what could he even say?
“You okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”
He bit his lip. Hard. Trying not to let it wobble or let out a sob or to even let any tears fall. He stood up and turned off the water, staring at his fiancée and nodding.
“Nice try.” Tsukishima wrapped the towel in his arms around his boyfriend’s figure. “What’s wrong?”
Yamaguchi started to dry off, not able to meet the other man’s eyes. “You don’t even want to share your laundry with me...” he mumbled.
“No, of course I do. You’re the one who separated them.”
“You didn’t stop me.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry. I was very confused in the moment. Are you really okay?”
Yamaguchi nodded half-heartedly. “I’ll be okay. Just work really sucked and it made thing even worse.” He got changed into his pajamas, shaking the excess water out of his hair, then climbed into bed.
Tsukishima climbed in next to him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I love you. You know that, right?”
Yamaguchi nodded. Tsukki didn’t make any effort to hold him or cuddle like they usually did before bed, but still, feeling his warm breath against his neck was enough to lull him to sleep.
Yamaguchi was at work before Tsukishima had even woken up, which was pretty surprising. Usually they at least got to see each other in the mornings. Yamaguchi always would make a lunch for Tsukishima and write him a cute little note. He wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t one today. He hadn’t realized not doing laundry was a big deal, but clearly it was a build-up of a few other things, and he felt really bad. He had wanted to apologize this morning, but that didn’t seem to happen.
Well, the least he could do was send a text to Yamaguchi.
I’m sorry for missing you this morning. And if I upset you last night. I love you and hope you have a good day
Aaaand now he was running late because he was stuck in his thoughts. He hurried to grab his laptop and his lunch, thank God Tadashi had made him one, and rushed out the door.
Half the day at work his eyes were trained on the lunch. Would there be a message? And why wasn’t Yamaguchi texting him? Hopefully it was just because he was busy.
When it was time for his break, Tsukishima practically leapt out of his seat to grab his lunch, opening it and shifting the food around to look for a note.
Got it!
Happy Friday! Hope you have a great day :)
Oh thank goodness. He let out a giant sigh of relief he hadn’t even realized he was holding in. Were his eyes seriously watering? That was ridiculous. Tadashi wouldn’t stay mad at him for something like that; he really was the best.
Just got on lunch break. Hope you’re having a good lunch <3
That was kind of a cheesy message, but he was very relieved and very much so in love. As long as nobody ever saw it but Yamaguchi it would be okay.
Yamaguchi must’ve had a really busy day. He’d usually reply with something cute, but this time he just loved the message. Well, at least he knew he had seen it.
Something felt weird though. This never happened. He never left for work early. He always replied during his lunch break, and if his break came earlier than Tsukki’s he would text him first.
Well... it was probably nothing.
Yamaguchi’s car was in the garage when Tsukishima got home. Yams usually got home later than him... hopefully that meant today went better at work for him.
“Yamaguchi! I’m home!” He called, making his way through the door.
Silence.
He went to the kitchen, but his fiancée wasn’t there. Outside? Nope. Up in the bedroom?
What?
“T-Tadashi?” He uttered out. There was Yamaguchi, bulky headphones over his ears, shoving clothes into a suitcase.
Yamaguchi’s eyes snapped up to meet his. “Oh!” His face was bright red. “Tsukki, I didn’t know you’d be home yet...” he slipped the headphones off his ears to focus on the distraught man standing over him.
“W-wait. What are you doing?” He knew something was off. He was an idiot for thinking things would be okay.
“Packing?” The man on the floor shrugged. Well yeah, that was obvious enough.
“I... don’t.”
“Hand me that shirt behind you,” Yamaguchi prompted him. Tsukishima looked behind him, eyes trained on one of Yamaguchi’s comfy t-shirts.
“I don’t want to.” He pouted.
Yamaguchi chuckled. “God, you’re such a pain.” He stood up and walked past his fiancée to grab the shirt. Tsukishima grabbed him in his arms as he past, trapping him.
“Tsukki,” he whined, shuffling to get out of his grip.
“No, no, no.” He held him tighter. “I’m not letting you go.” His words caught in his throat. This was stupid. How did Tadashi not realize it was just something stupid!? Had things been building up for a while now and he was too stupid to realize it? His grip tightened even more.
“I can’t breathe. I give in! I won’t move.”
Tsukki, sighed, feeling Yamaguchi relax in his arms, and loosened up a little.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not doing the laundry.”
“It’s okay! We can just do them separate from now on-“
“No!” He shrieked. “I don’t wanna. I wanna do my laundry with yours.”
“Huh? I thought you didn’t.” Yamaguchi seemed genuinely confused.
“No, no. You made that stupid suggestion. I wanna go to the drycleaner’s every week just to get your comfy shirts washed for work. Just... let me.”
“Well, in my defense, I’ve been trying to let you but you keep forgetting.”
“I’m sorry.” His grip was tightening and he could tell. He couldn’t help it. He was afraid if he let him go now he’d never be able to hold him again. “I’ll do it right this time.” His voice was shaky. He was scared.
“Why are you so upset over laundry?” Yamaguchi laughed—a genuine laugh—his chest shaking and giving Tsukishima butterflies, which he definitely didn’t deserve at the moment.
“You’re- you’re fucking packing Tadashi.” He let the boy go, folding his arms in front of him.
“In my defense, you weren’t supposed to find out this way.”
Why was he smiling!? What kind of a sick joke was this? He felt seriously ill. Was today backwards day? April Fools? Did he forget something?
Yamaguchi’s smile faded. “You okay? You look sick?”
“No, I’m not okay,” Tsukishima whimpered, tears brimming in his eyes. “Why are you smiling? And laughing? Do you even like me? Was it just some stupid joke to get with me?”
“Huh?”
“Well, I’m not gonna stop you.” Tsukki grabbed the shirt behind him and threw it towards the suitcase. He walked off towards the bathroom. He was gonna throw up. He should be begging for him to stay, but his stupid attitude came up and now Tadashi’s probably even more upset.
“Tsukki!” He felt the back of his shirt being pulled back. He turned to face him. “I feel like I’m missing something, Tsukki. Are you mad that I couldn’t text you today? We had management come in...”
“Huh? Why would I be mad.”
“You seem very mad...” he replied, eyes trailed on the ground.
“Aren’t you mad?”
“Huh? No. I’m just confused.”
Tsukishima was speechless. What was he missing here? “Why are you packing a bag?”
“Weekend together? I was able to get a flight to a beach and... I don’t know, I thought maybe it’d be fun. Do you have work or something? Did I mess it up?” Yamaguchi was fiddling his thumbs as he spoke, clearly nervous by his fiancée’s attitude.
“You idiot.”
“Hey!” He pouted. “It was going to be a surprise but you got home early.”
“I thought you were mad at me about laundry and you were leaving.”
“Leaving leaving? Why would I have written you a note for your lunch then?”
Tsukki frowned. “Well... I don’t know. I was confused.”
“I’m sorry.” Yamaguchi wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s neck, leaning up to kiss him on the lips. “Do you still wanna go? We don’t have to.”
“You scared me to death. Yes I wanna go.” He wrapped his arms around Yamaguchi’s waist, keeping him close. “Jesus, Tadashi. ‘Really scared me there.”
“I didn’t mean tooooo! I was confused too.”
Tsukishima picked him up, placing kisses all across his face, causing the shorter boy to giggle.
“Tsukki! We have to pack for the flight!” He squealed between giggles.
“When’s it leave?”
“Th-three hours!”
“Ugh, fine.” He dropped his boyfriend unceremoniously. “But to be continued when we get to the hotel, ‘Kay?”
“You better actually help me pack this time.”
He rolled his eyes at his fiancée. “Duh. Shut up you idiot. I love you.”
“I love you too, Tsukki.”
73 notes · View notes
ve1vetyoongi · 5 years ago
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heart of gold (blades of ice) | ksj
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Pairing: Seokjin x Reader
Genre: fluff, smut, angst.
Au: christmas!au, figure skater!oc, hockey player!seokjin
Word count: 20k
Summary: After a fall during figure skating practice dashes your dreams of competing at nationals, you vow to hang up your skates for good. That is until you cross paths with Kim Seokjin, captain of the ice hockey team, who is determined to get you back out on the rink and melt the ice in your heart.
Warnings: unprotected penetrative sex (don’t risk it protect ur biscuit kids), fingering, nipple play, handjobs, fluffy smut, mentions of panic/anxiety, cavity inducing fluff, all the cheesy Christmas cliches we know and love and also probably a number of terrible skating/ice hockey inaccuracies pls forgive me lol i tried.
Disclaimer: although some parts of this fic take place when the characters are teenagers, all smut takes place when they are legal, consenting adults!
A/N: hello 🥺 it’s been a while but i finally finished writing this fic for @jamaisjoons’ 12 days of bangtan collab! (link to be added bc tumblr sucks) I had so much fun writing something fluffy for a change (although there’s some angst in there too for all you sadists who ask me for more of that) and it really got me into the Christmas spirit this year so i rlly hope it can do the same for you 🥺🎄 a big merry Christmas to all of you guys, thank you for being here with me through 2019 and pls don’t forget to check out all the other amazing collab fics!! all the love hehe ~ 💞
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You spot your best friend Seulgi sat on the bleachers immediately. Her red hair stands out like a sore thumb against the white glare of the campus ice rink.
It's mid November and the cold wind that whispers over your skin as you watch skaters glide past on the ice paints the tip of your nose a rosy pink, even with a scarf wrapped tightly around it. Seulgi doesn't seem bothered by the temperature, wearing nothing but a pale blue bodysuit and tights all while stuffing her feet into a pair of polished ice skates nonchalantly as you climb the steps.
Seulgi doesn't even have to look up to know it's you when you slump down beside her. You've been best friends since the age of five and she would recognise the frustrated sigh you let out beside her in an instant.
"What are you doing here?" Her voice quips, chastising enough to finally pull your eyes away from the rink. You don't respond, stubbornly slinging your chapped hands into your coat pocket and avoiding her gaze until you feel a gentle hand on your arm. "I thought you said you weren't going to torture yourself anymore, Y/N."
You finally turn to look at her. There's a flick of silver liner on her lids that sparkles like tiny snowflakes against her dark lashes. She looks like she belongs in one of those figure skating magazines you used to ponder over as a kid. Like she belongs here, belongs on the ice.
You belonged here too, once. Before the accident.
The accident. 
The accident that destroyed your dreams of competing as a professional skater. The one that every single competitive figure skater at the rink whispers about in the locker rooms when you aren't around. The accident that turned the looks of astonishment and wonder you used to receive as you whirled around the ice into nothing but half smiles and pity as you now stand beside it.
Seulgi is looking at you like that right now, her puckered bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she searches your face for any sign of brokenness. You focus on steadying the rise and fall of your breath, letting the ache that seems to permanently stab at your chest these days whenever you're reminded of just how much you miss skating float away with the wisps of condensation that leave your lips with every exhale of chilly air.
"Trying to stay away was worse," You shrug. "I like being close to the ice."
"That's what you said last week before you had a panic attack after I slipped in the middle of my routine," Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest. "What if it happens again?"
"I'm feeling better, really." You manage to look her in the eyes, attempting to sound as convincingly sincere as possible.
"Fine. But don't make me say I told you so." She tucks your hair behind your ear before she's distracted again. "Hey, don't look now but Jimin's heading this way!" Seulgi squeals, fixing her hair hurriedly. 
She crosses and uncrosses her legs before settling into a position she deems natural and alluring, though it just makes her look stiff. "Do I look okay?"
You let out a puff of laughter. Seulgi has been head over heels for Jimin for as long as you can remember. You disapprove for the most part since Jimin has a reputation for being a world renowned ass but what with her being the most envied figure skater at the rink after winning a gold medal at nationals and him being the top ranked ice hockey player on campus, it only seemed like a matter of time before they would "team up". And Seulgi seems determined to make it happen before the year is out.
You follow her gaze to where the ice hockey team are clambering out of the locker rooms, hoots of laughter echoing through the rink as they push and pull each other playfully in their wobbly skates.
Sure enough, it's Park Jimin who interrupts your inner dialogue as he skates over to the barrier, waving up at Seulgi who grabs you by the hand and pulls you down to rink beside her despite your grumbling. Moral support, she says.
"Seulgi!" His skates crunch against the ice as he swings to a perfect stop. "What's up?"
"Not much! This is my best friend, Y/N. I don't think you guys have met before—"
"I know who she is." Jimin looks you up and down. "Skater right?"
"Ex-skater." You correct him.
"Oh that's right." There's a glint in his eyes as he pretends to pout, tugging on his collar like he wants you to think he made a mistake. Everyone around here knows about the accident so it's hardly believable. Jimin knows that you don't like him. Is he trying to get under your skin? "Whoops."
"Anyway..." Seulgi swiftly interrupts the strangely tense staring contest going down between you and Jimin, hand curling around your forearm like she's afraid you might jump him or something.
Jimin's eyes snap back to Seulgi. "So, I've been meaning to ask. Would you be able to get free tickets for me and the guys for the Christmas party at the rink next week?"
You roll your eyes. So that's why he suddenly decided to come over here to talk to Seulgi. Jimin was known for picking up girls with his sweet bargaining talk and empty promises and dropping them when they no longer had anything to offer, and this seemed like another one of his tricks — after all, everyone knows that Seulgi's dad owns the town's biggest ice rink and that tickets for the annual Christmas parade are like gold dust to get your hands on.
Jimin flashes Seulgi one of his trademark pearly grins and you can see her panties practically drop as she nods eagerly, even despite the condescending look you give. Don't do it. You try to send the words with your brain waves or something but apparently thirteen years of friendship isn't strong enough to break down the barrier of Park Jimin infatuation.
"Of course! I'll add you to the guest list!"
You slap a palm to your forehead.
"Great! I guess you could call it a date..."
Jimin's sweet talking becomes too cavity inducing to bare so you resort to resting your chin in your palm and watching the hockey team play instead.
You've seen them practice here hundreds of times so it's no wonder the brand new player sat at the edge of the ice, doing up his skates alone in a number 33 jersey, stands out to you instantly.
The whistle blows and the game starts and you gasp when you see how easily and languidly he glides across the ice. "Who is that?"
Jimin follows your gaze, resting his elbows on the edge of the rink just in time to watch the mystery player slide past his opponent before sending the hockey puck flying into the net with an easy precision. His teammates skid to sharp stops, jaws hanging open in disbelief at his skill as they fumble to congratulate him with loud thwacks to the back of his jersey.
"Who is that?" Seulgi's mouth is open in disbelief as Number 33 just brushes his team off with a humble nod, as if the attention makes him bashful, and skates to the centre of the rink to maintain his starting position for the second round.
"Him?" Jimin rolls his eyes. "That's the new captain. Can't remember his name. Don't care, honestly. Said he moved here from downtown or something, I don't know, but everyone acts as if he's an ice hockey prodigy or something."
"He's good." You jump in. "I've never seen someone make a goal that easy before."
"I just don't understand why coach chose him to be captain instead of me." Jimin murmurs under his breath, though you still catch the disdain in his voice as Number 33 makes yet another goal. "There's only one scholarship up for grabs and it has to be mine."
The funny feeling is back in your stomach again as the game finally comes to an end and the guy in the number 33 jersey disappears into the locker room. You just can't put your finger on it. Why are you so drawn to this random guy?
"Earth to Y/N? Hello?" Seulgi waves a hand in front of your face and you notice the blush on her cheeks as Jimin jogs away. "Critique my salchow jumps while I practice?"
You nod and Seulgi disappears onto the ice, taking her starting position before the music plays and she glides across the ice with ease. But you barely even feel the pang in your chest like usual as you watch her perform a routine you know you could do a million times better because you're too focused on the name that echoes through the arena as the guy in the number 33 jersey emerges from the locker room, helmet in hand now as he shakes free his head of dark brown hair.
"Kim Seokjin!"
Suddenly everything becomes clear.
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5 years ago.
Adrenaline runs hot in your veins as you tip toe onto the rink.
Seulgi's dad always let you be the first to break the fresh ice in. There's nothing you love more than the first crunch of your blades against the blanket of undisturbed frost, how the coolness of the ice hits your chapped skin as you gain speed, skates gliding on autopilot like they're following the map of patterns every spin leaves behind in the mosaic of ice.
Here it's easy to forget. All that matters is focus and balance and fingertips skimming ice. Reminding yourself to push further, to embrace the dizzy feeling of flying. Getting lost in the speed and the adrenaline and the goddamn burn in your quads as you close your eyes and spin and spin, arms poised like you might take flight at any second. Like you're one with the ice.
And when the determined sweat on your brow freezes and the blisters from your rental skates gets too much, you glide to the edge of the rink and drape yourself over the barrier with a triumphant smile. Your body aches and even though you shiver there's a warmth in your chest.
Freedom. And you can never get enough.
You don't realise your gasping for breath until a nervous cough pops your bubble of serenity and you're reminded you're at the ice rink and your shift is about to start and there's a strange guy in a fur hood and mittens peering up at you with wide eyes.
What the...?
"Can I help you?" You ask.
An awkward silence stretches out as the guy stares at you quizzically for a second, eyes dragging from your skates up to your face. You see him swallow thickly when he meets your gaze.
"Me?" He glances to the left and then to the right, cheeks flushing a deep shade of red when he finds the rink otherwise derelict. "Oh, uh...I was walking by just now and I saw you and—"
"If you wanna skate you need to buy a ticket." You hoist yourself off the rink, clomping across the heavy rubber carpet towards the ticket booth in your skates like you're on a pair of wobbly stilts.
He thrusts his hands into his pockets and trails a few steps behind you, eyes trained to the ground as you lift the hatch and slip behind the cash register. "Right. I knew that."
"What size do you need?" You call over your shoulder.
"Huh?"
He's a couple feet shorter than you and his forehead barely pokes over the counter of the booth but you can still sense the confusion in his voice. It takes all your strength to bite back a smile. "Your shoe size? For your skates?"
"Oh — right! Uh, 12 please." The guy scratches the back of his neck bashfully as you hand him a pair of freshly sharpened rental skates. His hand shoots out a little too eagerly, mitten covered fingers just barely brushing yours, the touch enough to send a jolt through your entire body like you'd just touched something icy cold. You pause, your own cheeks heating up now as the fur hood hugging his ears falls down to reveal a mop of messy brown hair and a pair of gentle eyes that won't quite meet yours.
You cough, eager to gloss over the awkward moment quickly. "First time here, huh?"
The embarrassed chuckle he lets out is endearing. "Yup. Is it that obvious?"
"Kinda." A smile finds your lips as he slips off one of his sneakers and fiddles with the laces of the ice skates clumsily. "So what brings you here?"
His foot finally slides into the boot. He smiles triumphantly. "I want to learn how to do what you did."
You quirk a brow. "Me?"
"Yeah. Just now, when you were skating. It was awesome. Like you were flying or something." He swallows. "I hope you don't mind that I watched, you can tell me if it's totally creepy-"
You cut off his nervous rambling with a chuckle. "It's fine, really." It's your turn to avert your eyes now. "Besides, I'm not awesome. But thanks."
You watch the professional figure skaters that frequent the rink to practice every week with their perfected turns and toe loop jumps and hand sewn leotards that glimmer in the rink's reflection. They are poised and disciplined, floating across the rink like their skates never quite touch the surface. You are nothing like them. And you never will be.
"Are you kidding?" The guy all but splutters. "You're the best skater I've ever seen!"
"And how many other skaters have you seen?"
"Zero." His eyes glint cheekily. "But I'm sure none of them could top you, skater girl.”
You practically choke at that, face flushing a deep red as you bump into a rack of ice skating brochures before panicking and dropping to your knees out of sight behind the booth.
Way to seem natural! What had gotten into you? Idiot.
You squeeze your eyes shut, pinching your inner arm like you might wake up from a crazy dream and this whole embarrassing-yourself-in-front-of-cute-boy malarkey would disappear with it. Alas, when your eyes open you find that you are very much awake and brochures cover the booth of the floor.
Luckily, he doesn't notice; he's already getting to his feet shakily, whitened knuckles gripping the side of the booth as he tries to find his balance. You remember how it felt the first time you wore a pair of skates. How the edges dug into your ankles and every step felt like you were on a tight rope. Now they felt natural.
"Woah!" His first steps are like watching a baby deer, arms outstretched as he desperately tries to maintain his dignity and stop from face planting before he even gets out on the ice. "This is harder than I thought..."
You slowly get up from your knees, a coy smile finding your mouth as you peer over the counter. The new customers were always the best to spy on; you and Seulgi spend hours back here behind this very booth spluttering over hot cocoa at the people who always seem to fall on their asses as soon as they touch the ice. If she was here right now she'd probably say something about how he was ticking every first skater cliche box possible.
Frantic windmill arms? Check. Nervous muttering? Check. The balance of a penguin in high heels? Triple check.
You rest your chin in your palm, biting back your amusement when he staggers over to the edge of the rink and tentatively takes his first step onto the ice. His skate immediately slides out from beneath him and his knuckles turn white around his grip on the barrier as he struggles to pull himself back upright, glancing side to side bashfully to check if anyone spotted his screw up.
"I meant to do that..." He grunts, taking a deep breath as he moves closer to the ice again. This time, his first step is successful and after a few almost mishaps he seems to finally get the hang of it, pushing his weight back and forth so that he moves — albeit shakily — across the rink, gaining speed by the second. He punches the air triumphantly, letting out a long hoot of elation.
"Look I'm doing it! — wait...ah!" Despair flashes across his features when he realises his body is headed straight towards the barrier at full speed. "How do I stop?!" He cries, legs scrambling to find their balance.
"Oh no..." You wince, covering your eyes. "This can't end well."
It's too late to help him now and all you can do is wince and watch in horror as he crashes onto the ice in a pile of clumsy limbs with a grunt.
"Ouch!"
You count the seconds that he's down, waiting for the moment his head pops up over the barrier. Ten seconds. Then twenty. Thirty, and still no sign of his dazed face or choppy bangs.
Oh no.
Before you can think better of it you are clambering over to the rink and gliding across the ice to where he lays on his back, eyes shut.
He's not...he can't be...is he?
"Are you okay?" You prod him with the toe of your skate. No response. Panic courses through your veins as you fall to your knees and shake him by the shoulders. "Oh my god, please wake up!"
A lazy smile appears on his face, words a little slurred. "I'm fine! I'm fine!"
You lean back into your heels with a sigh of relief as he scrambles onto his elbows and brushes the ice chips from the back of his coat.
"That was..."
"Dangerous." You deadpan.
"Amazing!" He breathes, pure wonder lighting up his face. "I want to go again!"
Your mouth hangs open as he tries to scramble to his feet awkwardly and without success, his skates sliding out from beneath him again. He grabs at the scarf strung around your neck to try and save himself, only he ends up just pulling you down with him into a heap on the ice.
"See! Dangerous." You tut, rolling your eyes as you feel the wet ice soak into the back of your jeans. Nice, now you would have to walk around looking like you pissed your pants for the rest of the day.
He pouts, blowing a frustrated puff of air from the corner of his mouth to dislodge the bangs that fell messily across his eyes in the scuffle. "You made it look so easy! How do you do it without falling on your ass?"
You snort. "You don't. If you wanna learn to skate you're gonna have to embrace having a cold ass once in a while. Skating is about being able to pick yourself back up again each time you fall." You rub the small of your back with a frown. "Even if it bruises."
You get to your feet and reach out a hand for him to take, pulling him up after you. When he finally finds his balance you grab him by the elbow to glide over to the safety of the edge of the rink where he can't be a liability to himself. He lets out a breath of relief when his fingers grasp the barrier.
"Aren't you scared to fall?" He puffs, wiping the sweat that has formed on his brow despite the chill in the air from the ice.
"Terrified." You grin when he glances up at you through his bangs, eyebrow quirked. "But that's part of the fun."
"Teach me." He says suddenly.
"Huh?"
"Teach me how to skate." He clasps his hands together, eyes full and round. "Properly! Like you. Please?"
You let out a sigh. You barely even know this kid. For all you knew he could be a crazy person!
But something about the way his eyes shine when he lifts his hands from the barrier and manages to keep his balance makes you hesitate. You recognise the flushing smile on his face, can imagine the warm feeling of triumph thawing his chest.
Passion.
How could you say no?
"Fine. Meet me here every day at 3. And don't be late."
"Deal." He holds out a mittened hand for you to shake. "My name is Seokjin, by the way. What's yours, skater girl?"
"Y/N." You say when you take his warm hand in yours. "Nice to meet you."
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Three o clock becomes your favourite time of day.
Seokjin is like a snow storm in a cup. True to his word, every day when the clock ticks over to 3PM he comes flying into the rink in a flurry of cheesy smiles and dad jokes.
And even though you make fun of the bundles of scarves up to his eyes (that his mom made him wear, as he likes to remind you begrudgingly) and roll your eyes every time he trips over his own skates or bruises his knees or falls on his ass, you can't deny the fact that you're starting to enjoy having him around.
You're not the only one who loves his company. Everyone at the rink is talking about the guy with the bowl cut who is showing so much potential. Probably because Seokjin is much better than you at making friends, instantly becoming well liked in the skating community for his humour and his up and coming skating skills. You hate to admit it but when Seokjin smiles and flirts with the pretty figure skaters from Seulgi's class it makes you burn with jealousy, especially when they titter at his stupid jokes like they're the peak of comedy.
But when Seokjin sees you tying your skates and watching from afar he always turns down their offers to buy him coffee and bounds over to you like a puppy, ready to launch into a recount of some anime he watched last night or one of the advanced skating jumps he wants you to teach him despite barely being able to keep his balance on the ice.
And that's why Seokjin makes you feel like you belong here just as much as everyone else. Because he sees you when no one else does. Because you finally have something that is all your own.
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"What's up, skater girl?" Seokjin shoots you a set of finger guns when you look up from the skating magazine in your lap before he leaps over the ticket booth counter. "No customers today?"
You shake your head. Sunday's were always slow days at the rink. That's why you liked these shifts. It's peaceful just being alone with the ice.
"Guess you could say we're totally ice-olated! Get it?" He cackles as he pulls out a pair of white skates from his backpack. His parents bought them for him as an early Christmas present. They are much nicer than your scuffed rental ones and you tuck your feet under the chair so that he can't see them while he ties up his laces.
You chatter absentmindedly as you make your way to the rink as usual. It's only been a few months of lessons but Seokjin doesn't even flinch now when his blades touch the ice, immediately taking off around the rink as fast as he can to blow off some steam before skidding to a stop in a flurry of ice chips when you flash him an amused grin.
"I can never get enough of this feeling." He spins in demonstration, the ends of his hair fluttering up in the breeze that whips around him. "Can we keep learning the routine today? I think I almost got it perfect last time."
"Sure." Seokjin had begged you for weeks to teach him a figure skating routine so you showed him one of the easy ones you saw the beginner skaters perform sometimes. He was getting pretty good now, rarely falling on his butt or missing a step like before. The concentration on his face as he copies your demonstrations and the triumphant grin that replaces it when he finally gets a jump right fills you with a sense of pride.
You're about to skate over to the boom box and hit play on some music so you can go over the routine when the door busts open and in walks Seulgi's figure skating class. You instantly fill with dread as their eyes land on you, scrutinising, and you feel a heat rise in your cheeks.
"Hey Seokjin!" One of them calls — Jennie, you think her name is — as she drapes herself over the barrier seductively. "Why don't you come over here and show us what you're made of? Without your, uh, friend"
"Sorry Jennie, I'm kinda busy right now." He shouts back. "Maybe some other time."
A weird combination of envy and sadness rises inside  you. "Just go." You mutter. "They can teach you a lot more than I can. I don't care."
Lies. You care so much the words taste sour leaving your mouth but you're sure the way Seokjin wistfully gazes towards the pretty girl with fluttering eyelashes who throws her sheet of black hair over her shoulder invitingly tells you all you need to know.
You sting with inferiority. You are just a rookie after all. A nobody. Why would Seokjin want to hang out with you?
With an awkward pout you take off and start skating in circles absentmindedly. It acts as a pleasant distraction, lets you breathe a little bit. Another pair of skates scrape somewhere behind you and then Seokjin's shoulder brushes up against yours. You push harder and faster but he's good now and keeps up with you easily, even as you both start panting with exertion.
"Why don't you take skating classes here like them?" He asks suddenly. "I know it bothers you. You spend so much time skating, don't you wanna do it for real?"
Seokjin's question takes you by so much surprise that you forget your balance and before you can react you're sat in a heap of limbs on the ice. You hide behind your hair when you hear the figure skating team tittering with laughter, amused that however hard you try you will never be able to skate like them.
"Because I'm not like them." You mumble. "I don't have supportive parents like you and I don't have the talent they do." Seokjin says nothing and you wait for him to leave you for Jennie instead but he just stays rooted to the spot. "Why don't you just get proper lessons if your parents can afford it? Why do you keep coming back here everyday to me?"
Seokjin doesn't respond. The next thing you know, there's a loud crash and he's throwing himself forcefully onto his butt on the ice beside you. "Whoops!" He says, putting on a show for the skaters to hear. They immediately stop laughing when he sends them a stern look.
"Because I like you." Seokjin whispers, but only loud enough for you to hear this time, making a point of rubbing his back like the fall hurt to make you laugh. "Not them."
He offers you a hand and you both scramble to your feet. The smile on your face hurts your cheeks but you can't bring yourself to let it go. And as Seokjin spins you around until your giddy and your teeth start to chatter you forget about the skaters and the inferiority and fill with nothing but belonging.
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"You're getting better." You tell Seokjin as you skate hand in hand over to the edge of the ice. "In a couple of weeks you'll be able to skate without me supervising."
He smirks. "I know."
"How humble." You punch his shoulder but he barely flinches, just chuckles when you nearly lose your balance again and he has to grab you under the elbows to keep you upright. "Woah!"
When you look up you're practically nose to nose with him. His breath is warm when it tickles your cheek and you feel yourself go slack in his grip. Seokjin's eyes are filled with stars as they dip down to your mouth and then back up to your eyes.
It hits you how much you want him to kiss you. How much you want to kiss him. Although he seems to have other ideas...
"Hey, I almost forgot!" He pulls away and you let out a shaky breath, scuffing the toe of your skate against the carpet bashfully. Seokjin's face lights up as he fumbles around in his big coat pockets. "I got you something for Christmas. Close your eyes."
"Huh?"
He's practically jumping from foot to foot with excitement now. "Just do it!"
You oblige with a fond shake of your head, squeezing your eyes shut, heart fluttering when Seokjin presses something cold and smooth into the palm of your hand.
When you uncurl your fingers you find a delicate Christmas ornament in your palm that is shaped like a pearly white ice skate. The tiny boot is tied up with red and white candy cane laces and the silver glitter on the blade sparkles in the low light.
"Oh Seokjin..." You gasp, turning it around in your fingers. "It's so pretty."
"Do you like it?" Seokjin asks anxiously, searching your face, a grin appearing on his lips to match your own when you nod eagerly.
"I love it!"
"I thought of you as soon as I saw it." He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly shy. "Now you can think of me when you see it, too."
You slide Seokjin's gift into your pocket, walking beside him in a comfortable silence towards the exit. "See you here again tomorrow?"
Seokjin's hand falters on the door handle, something close to pain crossing his features. You wait for him to answer your question but he never does. Instead you're being pulled into a tight hug, his arms squeezing you so tightly you start to feel light headed. At least that's what you tell yourself. It can't be the way his warm breath flutters against your neck, right?"
"Thank you. For everything." He murmurs into your hair. "For being you."
Your arms wrap around his back instinctively. "All of a sudden?"
"Just remember that, okay?" He flashes you a final small smile before his warm embrace is gone and he's out the door and being whisked away with the flurry of snow that has begun to fall.
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Seokjin doesn't come back the next day. Or the day after that. Even when a week passes by with no sign of him you still find your head snapping up each time the door opens or you see the flash of a red scarf.
"He's not coming, Y/N." Seulgi sighs, pushing your legs down from where you balance on the windowsill with your forehead pressed to the glass to make room for her own body to squeeze in beside you. "My dad says his family left town last week, remember?"
You keep your eyes glued to the path outside. If you focus hard enough you can almost see him barging through the door like he always does, making his unruly presence known by calling out some irritatingly unfunny dad joke that still managed to somehow make you laugh when he cracked himself up. Or grabbing your hands and swinging you around on the ice until you're both panting and laughing and teary eyed at the same time but you don't care because you're together.
And if you close your eyes you can still remember how it felt when he wrapped you up in his arms before he left and you wonder if anything he ever said meant anything at all.
Fresh snow has started to fall and just like that the boot prints he left behind are covered up, like they never even existed. Like he never even existed.
You bite your lip. "How could he leave without telling me first?"
"Oh Y/N." Seulgi rubs your shoulder. "I'm sure he had his reasons."
"Whatever." You jump down from the window, slinging your hands in your pockets only to feel your heart pang when your fingers brush up against the Christmas decoration Seokjin gave you.
You dangle the string from your finger, admiring the way it sparkles and glints when it hits the light, even when your eyes start to fog up with tears that just won't seem to disappear no matter how hard you try to rub them away.
And with that you drop it into a stray box of Christmas decorations and it's like Seokjin really is gone for good now.
"Y/N?" Seulgi's dad pokes his head into the ticket booth. You have to wipe your cheeks with your sleeve quickly, mustering up the closest thing to a watery smile as you can. "I was thinking about your Christmas gift. How would you like some skating lessons with Seulgi. I watched you today and I think you're really talented. Let's not waste it, hm?"
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Present day.
"So you're telling me the kid with the weird hair is back?" Seulgi asks, though you can only see her eyes peering over the top of the cardboard box filled with Christmas decorations that she lugs out of the storage closet. Her dad asked you to decorate the huge tree that looks like it belongs out in a forest instead of in front of the ice rink, which is how you find yourself balanced precariously on a wooden ladder trying and failing to lasso tinsel over the furthermost branches.
"He doesn't have weird hair." You say through gritted teeth as the ladder wobbles and you miss the branch once again. "And his name is Seokjin, Seulgi."
"Same difference." Seulgi barely puffs before her foot slips and the box is sent flying to the ground in a wince worthy crash of jingling bells and cracking glass that bursts all over the carpet. "Oh shit! These were my grandmas! My dad is gonna kill me...hey, can you rescue the survivors while I go get something to clean up this mess?"
"Sure."
"Don't start on the lights without me!"
Seulgi disappears into the back and you breathe a sigh of relief when you hop down the ladder and your feet touch the ground again.
It takes all your strength to heave the box onto a nearby table, frowning when you open the flaps to find nothing but a pile of sparkling crushed glass where Seulgi's grandma's prized ornaments should have been. Rolling up your sleeves, you begin to remove the salvageable ones, pausing when your fingers curl around a familiar shape.
When you open your palm it reveals a small silver ice skate with candy-cane laces hanging from a dainty silver string.
Seokjin's gift. How did it get here?
God, you really are hung up on this guy, huh? Wherever you go these days reminders of him seem to follow. Without figure skating to distract you, you have fallen back into your old missing-Kim-Seokjin ways and you can't help but scowl at your own weakness for some guy who just up and left without a single word five years ago.
"Hello?" A voice deeper than Seulgi's echoes through the rink, followed by a gust of chilly wind and the slamming of the entrance doors. "Are you open?"
Is that...
"Seokjin?"
His name leaves your lips as a whisper but the shrill sound of the ornament falling from your shock slackened fingers and shattering into a million pieces alerts him of your presence.
Shit. Seulgi is gonna kill you.
You bend to your knees, desperately trying to reassemble the smashed shards but failing miserably.
"It's ruined." You have to bite your lip to stop angry tears from sliding down your cheeks as you stare down at the miserable pile of broken glass. All that is left of a happy memory gone forever.
A pair of boots stop in front of you and when you lift your head you're met with a familiar pair of gentle brown eyes staring down at you in concern.
"Skater girl?"
He's back. Kim Seokjin is back. And he's here!
In your surprise you accidentally squeeze the glass between your fingers too hard, hissing when you feel a sharp scrape against your palm. "Ow!"
"Hey, watch out! You're bleeding."
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The last place you expected to find yourself today was cradling your cut hand behind the ticket booth while Kim Seokjin of all people rummages beneath the counter for the first aid kit. It's almost as if he never left with how easily he shrugs off his coat and gets to work.
"You still keep it down here, right?" You nod and he lets out a little ta da when his head re-emerges behind a box filled with bandages and antiseptic. "I remember from all the times I fell out on the ice and you had to patch me up."
When he sits down on the stool opposite you it's like you're experiencing a severe case of dejavu. He looks exactly the same as he always did yet somehow completely different; his shoulders are broader than you remember them and it looks like he started gelling his hair back, exposing his forehead. Your eyes can't help the way they trace the curve of his jaw, sharper now, and the ice hockey shoulder pads that protrude from beneath his winter coat.
One thing is the same though. The way he takes your wrist gently into his lap and begins to wind a strip of bandage around it with caution, glancing up at you every now and again to check it isn't too tight or too painful. He always was the kind and patient one after all.
"There." He says when he's finished, thumb running across your wrist just barely before you take back your arm sheepishly, still avoiding eye contact. "You should really be more careful. You won't be able to train with an injured hand."
You wince at the mention of figure skating. Of course Seokjin hadn't heard about the accident yet — he was living in a different town when it happened. But that didn't make it any less painful.
Seokjin frowns when he sees your face, mistakenly reaching for your hand again. "Does it still hurt?"
You take a sudden step back and his hand falls to his side. "No. It's fine." You grab your bag with your good arm and swing it over your shoulder. "Thanks for this but I gotta go."
A hand curls around your arm, pinning you in place before you can even take a step. When you turn begrudgingly Seokjin is biting his lip. "Did I say something wrong?"
A sigh escapes you and Seokjin reluctantly lets you go when you shake your arm free of his grip, finally taking a deep breath to fill your lungs with enough courage to look him in the eye.
"You didn't say anything at all. That's the whole problem, Jin." His mouth hangs open and he starts to stutter something but you put up a finger and he stops, retreating back into his seat like a scolded puppy. "You just left! Without even telling me where you were going! And now you're back here?"
"Y/N listen—"
"Why? Why are you back Seokjin?" The way your voice wavers makes his eyes widen.
He scratches the back of his neck almost remorsefully, avoiding the real question and your eyes. "I...I transferred. I applied for a ice hockey scholarship to play here. I was actually hoping I'd find you here, to see if maybe you wanted to go skating again sometime or something..."
"Listen, I don't skate anymore okay?" You scoff, turning on your heels and marching towards the exit. "So don't bother coming back."
Just then Seulgi reappears from the back. "Y/N? I found some more decorations — oh."
The last thing you hear is her voice calling your name before you march right out of the rink and get as far away from Seokjin and the memories and the longing and the hurt as possible.
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November has already rolled into December by the time you see Seokjin again.
Seulgi's family's ice rink is bustling with locals in scarves and wooly hats, alive with a buzz of excitement that mingles with the cheesy Christmas tunes playing overhead and the smell of hot cocoa from the concessions stand as the town eagerly awaits the beginning of the annual Christmas parade, of which the rink is the central attraction.
The rink is decorated to the nines and you can't deny it looks breathtaking; you aren't a total grinch after all. You're almost sure that you've woken up in some kind of alternate winter wonderland, like you're a character in one of those decorative snow globes they sell at the mall and the whole place could be picked up and shaken until the air fills with Christmas spirit like the first flakes of snow on a winter's morning.
Except nothing about working the ticket booth feels even remotely festive. Your cheeks have started to hurt from all the polite smiling at even the rudest of customers and the sly side eyes and grimaces you and Seulgi throw at each other every time you see another kid fall over and need first aid and there's fake snow in your hair and tinsel stuck to your shoe.
You've just slumped into a heap on the stool behind the counter after dealing with a particularly lumpy case of motion sickness from one of the parents begrudgingly skating like baby deers behind their children when you spot Jimin and the rest of the hockey team elbowing through the crowd to the ticket booth.
You can't help but roll your eyes when you see the pair of dark shades balanced on the bridge of his nose that just look silly with his winter coat and the smug smile on his face as he barges to the front of the queue and rings the bell on the counter like a man possessed.
"Can I help you?" You ask nonchalantly, inspecting your nails.
Jimin turns up his nose. "Is Seulgi around."
You shake your head. A lie. She's just in the back taking her gingerbread cookies out of the oven so she can hand them out to the children while they are still warm.
"No. You've got me. How many tickets?"
"We're on the guest list, actually." Jimin purrs. "Seulgi said so herself."
You pick up the clipboard on the counter and pretend to scan the guest list, pushing your bottom lip out mockingly as you shrug your shoulders. "Sorry. Doesn't look like you are. Now that'll be ten dollars each or I'm gonna have to ask you to leave—"
"Pfft, let me see that." Jimin reaches over the counter and tries to snatch the clipboard from your grasp but you just end up in a childish game of tug of war. With a scoff he suddenly let's go and wipes his hand on his jacket with a scowl, looking you up and down with gritted teeth. "What is your goddamn problem, Y/N? Would it kill you to be nice to me for once?"
"Me? Nice to you?" You let out an exasperated sigh, fists clenching as Jimin's entourage begin to look nervous, some backing up and others tugging him by the arm to back down which he only shakes off, eyes never leaving yours like he's daring you to look away first. "You are my problem, Park Jimin. You think you can come in here and use Seulgi? Well you'll have to cross me first—"
"Did someone call me?" Seulgi's sugary laughter rounds the corner before she does, confusion crossing her features when she sees Jimin's tense jaw and the murder in your eyes. Not exactly Christmas spirit, is it?
"Let's ask Seulgi herself about the guest list, shall we?" Jimin's face lights up with his signature smile that has Seulgi heating up in a blush and you mentally face palming as you reluctantly hand over the clipboard and watch Seulgi zero in on the PARK JIMIN she wrote in her own curly scrawl, the 'i's dotted with tiny hearts.
"Yep, you guys can go on through." She says with a grin, seemingly too blind with love to see the I told you so look Jimin sends your way.
"Seulgi are you really gonna—"
"I knew I could count on you Seulgi," Jimin drawls. "How about we go skating together?"
Yup. That's it. Your best friend has been taken over by the love bug and nothing you say now will bring her to her senses as she nods eagerly and begins ticking each member of the hockey team off her list.
"...Kim Taehyung...Jung Hoseok and last but not least, Kim Seokjin!"
Hold up...
When you stupidly snap your eyes up they instantly meet the very pair you've been trying to avoid. Seokjin's.
There he is in all his glory, tall enough these days to see over the counter. The smile on his face fades when he notices you too.
"Y/N? Hello?" Seulgi snaps you back out of your Kim Seokjin induced trance, blushing when you realise you must have been staring and that's probably why he's fiddling with his coat zipper and avoiding your gaze. "Can you handle the ticket booth for a bit while I go for a skate?"
All reservations are wiped from your mind and you have to swallow hard before any words come out that aren't oh my god or Seokjin. "Y-yeah, sure."
"Great!" She swings over the counter. You stare at your feet, face uncomfortably hot under Seokjin's gaze. Seulgi takes Jimin's elbow. "See you later!"
"Have f-fun." You manage to mumble, relief flooding your chest when Jimin and his entourage become smaller and smaller before disappearing amongst the indistinguishable hustle and bustle.
Your breath catches when you finally lift your gaze and find Seokjin still stood frozen in the same spot, opening and closing his mouth awkwardly like he wants to say something but doesn't quite know how.
I'm sorry. I didn't want to leave. I don't think you're a freak like everyone else just because of your accident.
You can imagine so many different combinations of words leaving his lips except the ones that he finally croaks aren't quite what you're expecting. "Uh, I need to rent some skates. I forgot to bring my ones..."
Oh.
A few awkward seconds pass until you realise he's waiting patiently for you to do your job and get him the freaking skates instead of standing open mouthed like some kind of frozen ice sculpture that doesn't know how to function, and you turn a little too abruptly, eager to hide the heat in your cheeks and nearly knocking the whole rack of rental skates down in your haste.
God! Why do you always embarrass yourself in front of him?
"I need a size—"
"12. I know." Your voice sounds small as you turn back around and hand him a pair of black skates, freshly sharpened just like how you knew he liked them. Or used to like them anyway. "I remember."
Something close to pain briefly flashes over his face and there's another silence that feels deafening despite the screams and cheers of skaters a few meters away that fill the atmosphere.
He coughs when his hand brushes yours as he reaches to take the ice skates and you feel your eyes widen when an electric current runs up your arm and settles in the left side of your chest with a funny pang. His eyes slowly meet yours, soft and gentle and filled with stars just like you remember them. Your heart starts beating so fast you're sure everyone at the rink can hear it now.
You can almost hear your words from the other day echoing in his head. Don't bother coming back.
And when he rips his gaze away from yours, the warmth of his fingers disappearing with it as he turns on his heels and starts to walk away without so much as a goodbye, you realise just how much you didn't mean them. How glad you are that he's back here, at the rink, like old times, like you've always silently hoped he would be despite never admitting it to yourself until now.
That's why you can't help yourself when you swing your body over the counter and jog after him, with a call of, "Hey, Seokjin, wait up!"
He stops abruptly at the sound of his name and you almost crash into the back of him, grateful for the arm that shoots out and catches you before you can stumble over your own feet.
"Woah, be careful. You coulda got hurt—"
His arm is still around your waist when you start mumbling incoherently, out of breath and desperate to get the truth off your chest in this sudden burst of bravery before you chicken out and retreat to the bubble of timidity you've found yourself in since the accident.
"Listen, I'm really sorry about the other day I was just kinda surprised to see you again and I lashed out." He cocks an eyebrow when you finish, before you're spluttering, "Good surprised! It's, uh, good to see you again is what I'm trying to say — really good to see you."
There's another silence that feels immeasurable and you feel hot embarrassment caress your face as you scan Seokjin's features for any sign that he's going to push you away or tease you for being such an idiot that still likes him even after he left you and—
Then he's laughing. Deep chuckles vibrating against your cheek as he pulls you into a bear hug and you're smushed up against his chest and breathing in his woody cologne until you're laughing with relief too.
"It's good to see you too, Y/N." He says when he finally lets you go and maybe he's just cold but you're sure there's a trace of a blush on his own nose as he shoves his hands deep into his pockets like he can't trust them not to reach out and grab you again. "Really good."
"Hey Kim Seokjin, stop flirting and get your ass over here stat!"
Seokjin's eyes roll in unison with your own when none other than Park Jimin's voice ruins the moment. When you both turn and find him leaning over the barrier of the ice rink, beckoning Seokjin with a single finger, you cant help but snort at the exasperated sigh that leaves the boy beside you.
"Will he ever give me a break?" Seokjin mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose and mouthing sorry as he nods his head to signal for you to join him. Jimin offers you both a salute in greeting.
"Captain," Jimin practically snarls around the word, contempt evident in his voice despite the grin plastered to his face. It only grows when he turns his attention to you. "And sweet little figure skating champion Y/N — oh wait!" He must see the way your face drops because he can't conceal the laughter that bubbles up next. "Whoops. Did I say something wrong?"
Seokjin looks between you and Jimin with confusion which quickly turns to concern when he sees the way your fists have started to shake. His hand falls to the small of your back and you briefly feel all your anger rinse away.
"Lets just go, Y/N—"
Jimin seems to have other ideas. "Hey Seokjin! Did you hear about Y/N's little...accident?" He calls. You stiffen and Seokjin finally meets Jimin's gaze head on, somewhat curious. "It happened right here on this very rink. The day before nationals, right princess?" Jimin waits for you to nod before he continues. "I'm sure she can fill you in on what happened while you two flirt like school girls. Maybe then you'll understand why she feels the need to make everyone around her miserable. Because her injuries healed but she's still broken."
A gasp comes from somewhere behind Jimin and you instantly recognise it as belonging to Seulgi who has just skated into the middle of the battle ground. She's not the only one who looks surprised — a couple members of the hockey team flash you sympathetic looks. It drives you crazy. You hate being their goddamn reason to throw a pity party.
"Even after my accident I can still skate better than you ever will Park," You spit. "And don't you forget it."
Jimin's eyes glint with something dark and you swallow thickly. Oh no.
"Then how about you prove it to all of us, huh?" He smirks when you just gape at him, the implications of his words sending a chill down your spine. Jimin pretends to tap the non existent watch on his wrist when you stay rooted in place with wide eyes."We haven't got all day. You gonna get your skates or what?"
Get your skates on. Right now?
"Okay." You wince at how timid your voice sounds, not even able to enjoy the surprise on Jimin's face because of the fear tightening like a coil in your stomach as you let your feet carry you over to the rack of rental skates.
When you reach for your favourite pair — your old favourite pair — you find your hands are shaking uncontrollably. They don't stop even as you somehow manage to slip them onto your feet and clomp back over to the edge of the rink where Jimin waits with a cheshire grin and Seokjin and Seulgi rush forward to stop you from taking another step as soon as they see the way your breathing has quickened and your practically gasping for air now. When did it get so hot in here?
"Y/N I really don't think this is a good idea, you don't have to—" Seulgi starts, but you brush her off, determined to prove Jimin wrong.
Sure, it has been nearly a year since you last got on the ice without falling into a panic attack. Sure, your heart is racing so fast at the thought of the blades beneath your feet touching the frozen surface you can feel it in your throat. Sure, you still let yourself cry sometimes when it's late and Seulgi's fast asleep and you wake up from a dream where you're skating and you're free and then the icy bitterness of reality sets in and you remember that's all gone now.
But you're not broken right? You can't be.
No. I'm not broken.
You grit your teeth. "I can do it."
I'm not broken.
Your knuckles whiten with how hard you're gripping the barrier as you drag your feet closer to the edge of the ice.
"Then what are you waiting for?"
I'm not broken.
Your vision starts to blur into a swirl of Christmas lights and ice skates and Park Jimin's stupid grin.
You squeeze your eyes shut as the tip of your blade touches the ice and then—
"Stop!"
An arm curls around your waist and pulls you back. You let out a sigh of relief. It's Seokjin and he's holding you upright now as you clutch your chest and try to breathe, determined to stop angry tears from slipping down your cheeks.
You're broken. Utterly and completely. Jimin was right.
"Back off, Park." Seokjin barks and you're aware of how Jimin is clutching his stomach, laughter spilling from his lips as Seulgi stares on nervously.
"Why? Because you know I'm gonna steal your scholarship at the Christmas Eve game?"
Seokjin scoffs. "Because you're being kind of an ass right now. Come on, Y/N, grab your coat."
"Why?" You manage to splutter, still needing Seokjin's support as he pulls you behind him to the locker rooms.
"We're getting out of here."
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The sky has faded to a deep blue-black when you push out of the ice rink into the chilly winter evening beside Seokjin.
You pull your coat tighter around your chin, unsure if the way your limbs shiver is because of the December weather or the fear still lingering in the pit of your stomach.
Seokjin's presence beside you is comforting. It brings you back to reality somewhat. He doesn't mention the earlier tension between you, just flashes you a small smile instead. "Come on. Let's get warmed up."
The Christmas lights strung between lamp posts above your heads provide a subtle glow that makes his eyes softly gleam as he offers you a glove covered hand just like he used to, all those years ago before he left. With a shy glance you slide your hand into his, cheeks burning, but grateful for the feeling of Seokjin squeezing your hand reassuringly, grounding you like lead to a balloon.
Maybe you would regret it tomorrow when you remember that this wasn't going to last and he was inevitably going to leave you again. But old habits die hard and you can't resist the natural feeling of mutual comfort that settles between you like a warm hug from nostalgia.
Seokjin pulls you behind him to join the throng of people in woollen scarves and fuzzy earmuffs making their towards the annual Christmas market your town always throws to celebrate the holidays. The entire street is alive with joyous laughter and twinkling lights, the smell of freshly baked mince pies mixed with pine wreaths soothing you instantly.
Seokjin buys you both a cup of steaming mulled wine from one of the cozy market stalls with thatched roofs playing tinny Christmas tunes. You take it from him graciously, thankful for the fuzzy warmth it provides as you breathe in the festive aroma.
You walk together in a comfortable silence, enjoying the way Seokjin's arm brushes against yours sometimes and how he always blushes when it does. He keeps looking at you like he wants to say something but doesn't know how, resorting to sipping the hot liquid he cradles between his palms instead as if to stop the words from tumbling out without permission.
You're about to tease him for it, ask him to spit it out, whatever it is, or forever hold his peace — but then you see it.
Across the street sits a quaint shop with a SANTA STOP HERE sign on the door. It's decorated just as festively as the rest and would have blended in to the picturesque scene had it not been for the thing on display which catches your eye.
Before you know it you are wandering up to the window with wide eyes, breath fogging up the glass as you take in the pair of pearly white ice skates glaring at you from behind your own reflection. They're tied up neatly with a red bow inside the store's display and they seem to sparkle beneath the twinkling Christmas decorations like they're covered in thousands of tiny snow flakes. The sight nearly takes your breath away.
You can almost hear the way the blades would scrape the ice just the way you liked it, how the cold air would make your eyes water as they carried you around the rink. How the satin interior would never rub your toes and the fur trim would hug your ankles just right.
A pair of skates like these were supposed to belong to one of the pretty professional figure skaters you could never quite keep up with when you were on the ice, routines so rehearsed they could be free styling to the inexperienced eye, silver laces complimenting their daintily sequinned bodysuits.
Not someone who only has plain bodices and rental skates and wears ugly burns on their knees from hitting the ice too hard. Not someone like you.
Besides, you promised yourself you would never pick up another pair of skates again. What is the point in dreaming?
"So..." Seokjin starts, blowing at the steam swirling from his paper cup. "What happened back there? You seemed kinda freaked out."
You freeze. Seokjin shifts. "You miss skating huh?"
You drop your eyes to the liquid in your cup. Were you that easy to read? Or did Seokjin just remember you better than you realised?
"Mhm." It comes out a little choked but you force a smile, hoping he'll believe it even if it doesn't quite meet your eyes. "But I'm a law major now. Don't have a ton of time for competing anymore."
It isn't a complete lie. You are a law major now, much to the pride of your family who always thought skating was a waste of time anyway.
But becoming a lawyer isn't your dream. It was your back up plan. Because your dream of being a competitive skater will never come true now and you had to accept it somehow. Throwing yourself into classes and deadlines seemed like the best way to keep your mind occupied, even if it doesn't make you forget your troubles in the same way skating used to.
"Sounds boring."
You shrug. "Sometimes."
Seokjin narrows his eyes. "But I know you, remember? The Y/N I knew always had time for skating. Did...did something really happen?"
You bite your lip, glassy tears fogging up your vision. God, you told yourself long ago to stop crying every time someone brought up the accident. When you wipe at your eyes harshly with the back of your hand you hear Seokjin suck in a nervous breath.
"You don't have to tell me, I'm sorry for bringing it up—"
"No! No it's okay." You shake your head with a loud sniff. "It's me, not you. It happened a few days before I was due to leave for nationals. I was practicing at the rink with Seulgi like usual and the next thing I know I'm lying in a hospital bed with my leg in a cast." You sigh, a twinge of pain running up your leg as you remember the stiff feeling of the cast. "I don't even remember what happened, not really. Seulgi said I hit my head pretty hard. Haven't been out on the ice since."
"I'm sorry." Seokjin's eyes soften and his hand hovers over yours like he wants to comfort you but doesn't know how. "I can't imagine not being able to skate, I think I'd...I think I'd go crazy."
You shrug. "You get used to it after a while." A lie. "It doesn't matter anyway." Another lie. "Besides, it's not like I can't skate, my leg healed just like they said it would. I'm just..."
"Scared." Seokjin finishes. You feel a flush of embarrassment rush to your cheeks as you nod carefully. You've never told anyone this. Not even Seulgi. But something tells you Seokjin would understand.
"I want to skate again so badly. Like with every bone in my body badly. But every time I even get near the ice I just...freeze up like I did earlier at the rink." Your head falls into your palms, self condemnation evident in the spiteful laugh you afford to your own weakness. "Ugh you must think I suck so bad."
A group of carollers stroll by merrily and you're grateful that their rendition of Silent Night catches Seokjin's attention and covers up your embarrassingly loud sniffle.
"I don't think you suck." Seokjin says eventually, blowing on his hands to warm them up. "It's natural to be scared, especially after something like that. A wise person once taught me that even the best skaters are terrified to fall. It's part of the fun."
You flash him a small smile. The accident still feels raw though and you're eager to change the subject swiftly.
"What about you? Any grand plans for the future?"
Seokjin scratches the back of his neck bashfully. He never did like being boastful. "Took a year out so I could practice playing ice hockey. You've heard about the Christmas Eve game right? The scholarship board is gonna be there.
"Who would've thought that the Kim Seokjin, worst skater in town, would end up being captain of the team?"
He punches your shoulder playfully. "Hey! I wasn't that bad."
"You don't remember falling on your ass every time I tried to show you how to skate?"
Seokjin rolls his eyes. "Well a wise person once told me that being a real skater means being able to pick yourself up each time you fall." He rubs his chin playfully. "And something about getting a cold ass."
You scoff, somehow embarrassed that Seokjin had remembered the words you spoke all those years ago. Embarrassed at how weak you have become since then. "She sounds like an idiot."
"A wise idiot."
You shake your head fondly. Seokjin's laugh is warm and it makes you feel all fuzzy, like just for a moment the cavity in your chest is full. You realise then just how much you missed it. How much you missed him.
When you drag your attention away from the skates on display, your wandering eyes catch a glimpse of the Christmas fairground in the shop window's reflection. You let out a gasp, tipping your head back to look up at the giant ferris wheel that lights up with a million different rainbow colours like a firework against the dark blanket of night.
"You wanna go for a ride?" Seokjin asks, looking somewhat amused.
"Can we?" You're fully aware of just how childlike you must sound right know but the gleeful glint in Seokjin's eyes puts you at ease instantly, a smile lighting up his features that is brighter than all the Christmas lights around you. It's enough to make your stomach do somersaults.
You furrow your brows when Seokjin suddenly takes off into a run, scarf trailing behind him in the wind. "Last one there has to pay for our tickets!"
"What? Hey!"
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Before you know it you're climbing into one of the tiny ferris wheel cubicles after begrudgingly paying for both of your tickets, the space between you and Seokjin so slim your knees touch. The ride feels shakier than it looked from the ground and you let out a shriek as it stutters to life, the cubicle rocking back and forth lightly as you begin to raise into the air.
Seokjin appears startled. "What's wrong?"
You weren't expecting the ride to go this high. Perhaps your crippling fear of heights would have been a good thing to mention before you got on.
"Falling." You manage to choke, hands gripping the safety pole so tight your knuckles turn white. "Scared of falling."
"Hey. C'mere." A mitten covered hand engulfs your own. It feels familiar, comforting. Your breathing instantly slows when Seokjin squeezes your fingers tightly. "I won't let you fall."
"Promise?" You whisper, still not convinced as you watch the people on the ground below get smaller and smaller.
"Promise." Seokjin chuckles. "Hey! Look!"
You manage to lift your gaze to where Seokjin's finger points, all fear melting away like snow when you lay eyes on the view of the town stretching out before you like tiny pieces of a toy village. The location gives you a perfect view of the giant Christmas tree that has been set up in town, decked with golden tinsel and shiny baubles alongside the thin layer of frosty snow that glimmers on rooftops and church steeples like a thousand stars.
"Woah." A gasp leaves you involuntarily. "It looks so..."
"Beautiful." Seokjin finishes your sentence with a smile but when you turn you find him staring straight at you. A blush caresses his cheeks. He coughs bashfully and you're reminded of the younger, shyer Seokjin you used to teach to skate at the ice rink.
The Ferris wheel comes to a halt when your cubicle reaches the very top. You smush your nose against the safety glass. If you squint you can just about make out the ice rink in the distance, along with an abundance of skaters gliding serenely across the ice. For a moment your heart leaps and you long to be down there, flying and spinning beside them, but then you remember the accident and you sink back with a frown.
Seokjin's velvety tone beside you brings you back down. "It's because of you, y'know."
"Huh?" You blink.
"You're the reason I started skating in the first place. I'd never be captain if you weren't such a good teacher."
You snort lightly. "If I'm such a good teacher how come I can't even skate anymore myself?"
Seokjin's smile is pitying but determined. He holds out his hand as if he wants you to shake it and you furrow your brows in confusion.
"Do you trust me?"
"Yeah...why?" Suddenly the cubicle starts moving back down and you are thrown into a less than graceful heap directly into Seokjin's lap. "Oh!"
"Woah there..." Seokjin's arms curl around your torso instantly, bigger and stronger than you remembered them being. You're hit with the scent of his laundry detergent and the lightly minty whisper of his breath across your cheek when you turn and find yourself nose to nose with him. "Be careful, skater girl."
A flush caresses your cheeks and this time it's not because of the cold. "I trust you!" You rush.
"Promise?" His breath is warm when it ghosts across your lips.
"Promise."
He just stares at you for a few seconds before you realise you're pressed so close to his chest that he can probably feel the way your heart is beating faster than one of those mechanical Little Drummer Boy decorations.
You cough and slide off his lap into the space beside him, muttering a few awkward sorry's and instantly missing his warmth when your fingers curl around the cold metal pole instead.
Seokjin's grin doesn't leave his face until you're both safely on the ground again and it only grows when you let him slide his hand into yours after he lifts you free from the death trap of a Ferris wheel and your boots collide with the sweet, sweet tarmac.
"Good. Because I have an idea."
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"Remind me," Seokjin grunts as he hoists himself over the college campus gate, the locks and chains holding them together rattling under his weight before his feet land neatly on the other side. "Is trespassing illegal, little miss law student?"
"Very." You follow his previous actions, nimbly climbing the railings before letting Seokjin lift you to the ground on the other side. "Why are we here, anyway?"
His breath is visible against the darkening night as he pulls a key from his pocket, dangling it in front of your face teasingly. "Being team captain has some...perks."
"Perks? What kind of perks — Seokjin, wait up!" Before he can answer your question, he's already flattened himself against the brick wall with a sly smirk, looking both ways before sliding around the corner like a shitty MI5 agent. You stay put, arms crossed stubbornly, before Seokjin's arm appears from the dark mouth of the corner and drags you behind him with a yelp.
"Just trust me, okay?" Seokjin starts with a smile, but not before his face is draining of colour and he's lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. "Shit! I forgot about the cameras..."
"Cameras?" You squeak, following his gaze up towards the CCTV camera pointed toward the entrance a few feet away, like it's a predator waiting to catch its prey. "Seokjin! We can't get caught, you could lose your chance at a scholarship and I could get kicked out and—"
"Chill, we've got this. I've done this hundreds of times!" Seokjin's eyes flit to the ground when you raise an eyebrow at him. "Just, you know, to practice and stuff. Not with other girls or anything. Not that there are other girls! Just you. Because you're the only girl that I ever — never mind..."
A few moments pass in silence as you just blink at him  while he scratches the back of his neck. Watching him toe the dirt with his shoe sheepishly has a small smile growing on your face and all your inhibitions get thrown to the wind as quickly as your heart has started to race.
"I trust you." Seokjin looks up hopefully. "Let's do it."
He practically punches the air at your unreserved participation. "Here. Put this on." He yanks the green winter hat off his head, revealing his cutely dishevelled hat hair, and pulls the fabric down over your head roughly.
"Hey! Watch it. I can't see!"
He just laughs, thumbs pushing back the material to reveal your eyes, the fond curve of his lips coming into view when your vision adjusts. His hand pats the bobble on the end of the hat amusedly, like he's satisfied with his work. You pout. "What? It looks cute. Now come on, keep your head down and no one will ever know it's us."
You shoot a final wide eyed glance at the camera. You had already lost one dream and you couldn't afford to lose another. And if you lost it because of your own stupidity...
To your surprise, Seokjin's mitten covered hand slides into yours and its the feeling of his big palm enveloping your own that brings you back down. Something about the way he squeezes gently is comforting and fills you with a warmth that makes the December night feel a lot less chilly.
Seokjin smiles when you squeeze back. "Ready?"
"Ready."
And then, before you can change your mind, your feet are following Seokjin's as you run together in a fit of giggles past the cameras towards a back campus entrance, a funny feeling of elation fizzing through your veins as Seokjin swaps the hand he's holding so that he can use his dominant one to fiddle with the key in the lock.
"Remind me again, little miss law student." After a few tense heartbeats, the door swings open, and Seokjin flashes you a mischievous grin. "Is stealing the ice hockey coach's key so you can sneak in to the ice rink after dark illegal?"
Your eyes widen as he disappears into the dark entrance. "Very illeg- woah!"
Before you can protest, Seokjin's arms wrap around your waist, dragging you inside with him. Your hands curl around his neck automatically when he swings you around and around until you're both dizzy and spluttering with laughter in the darkness.
"Seokjin! Stop! Where are we?" You murmur into his hair when he finally sets you down on your feet, chests flush together as he backs up so that your shoulder blades press against the wall.
"Can I ask you something?" He whispers, suddenly serious. Your eyes have barely adjusted to the low light but you can tell his lips are inches from yours and you shiver when his warm breath tickles your nose.
Your hand instinctively reaches out to brush away the bangs covering his eyes, breath catching in your throat when Seokjin's brown pupils bore into your own, close enough to see the frost on his dark lashes.
"Of course," You manage to squeak, suddenly aware of how you've been holding your breath. "What is it?"
Did you miss me as much as I missed you? Can I kiss you?
You squeeze your eyes shut when his lips brush your forehead. He smells of minty shampoo and you're sure your heart is beating so fast it's going to escape from your chest any second. If you just lean up a little, place a hand on his shoulder and stand on your tippy toes...
"Why shouldn't you tell jokes while ice skating?" He whispers against your skin. His voice sounds hoarser than before and you notice the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows hard. Is he trying as hard as you are not to kiss him?
"Enlighten me." You breathe.
He keeps drawing ever closer and you pucker your lips...
"Because the ice might crack up."
Your eyes snap open just as he finishes leaning in, reaching over your shoulder to flick a switch that has the whole room lighting up before you.
Oh.
You're briefly disappointed until your eyes finally adjust, and you can't help but gasp at the sight akin to a winter wonderland before you. Strings of Christmas lights are suspended carefully over the familiar campus ice rink you know and love, glimmering like multicoloured snowflakes in the ice's reflection. The bleachers are lined with frosted Christmas trees flashing with silver tinsel and baubles that glint like river-light against the night.
You bite your lip but that doesn't stop elated laughter from escaping you, throwing your arms around Seokjin's neck, his own deep chuckle joining in when he staggers and barely keeps his balance.
"I've missed you." You say when you finally come down and you're both just staring at each other giddily now.
"Even the dad jokes?" The nod into his neck in confirmation makes Seokjin punch the air, though his laugh suddenly trails off and he starts to wring his hands nervously a moment later. "You might regret saying that when I tell you why we're here..."
"Seokjin?"
He flashes you a sheepish smile.
"Surprise! I'm gonna teach you how to skate again!"
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"Absolutely not!"
"Come on, you said you trusted me remember?" You feel the colour drain from your face, Seokjin's fingers tightening around your wrist when you try to back step. "I can tell how much you miss it, don't you wanna be able to perform again?"
The memory of how it felt to glide around the ice is enough to make you shiver, a longing settling in your stomach for the cheers of the crowd as you land a perfect jump mingling with your skates scraping the ice.
For the feeling of being free again. That's what you miss more than anything in the world.
"I do." You bite your lip. "But..."
"But?"
"But I'm broken, Seokjin! Just like Jimin said."
"Hey. Look at me." Seokjin whispers when you turn away, probably able to see the glassiness of your eyes as his forefinger bumps beneath your chin. "You're not broken, okay? You're just scared."
You hug your torso. "Well duh. What if something happens? What if I fall again but this time my injuries don't heal? Or worse what if you fall—?"
Seokjin squeezes your shoulders gently and you realise that you're rambling. You trail off when you find him smiling at you reassuringly. "Listen. We don't have to do this if you don't want to. It's completely up to you. But if you do decide to start skating again, I promise I'll be there to pick you back up when you fall okay? Just like you did with me."
A sudden confidence grips you. Freedom feels so close again you could touch it. Who better to experience it with than Seokjin?
"Okay. Let's do it. I want to skate again."
Before you know it you're sat on the bleachers, sliding your feet into a pair of skates Seokjin retrieved from the lost and found closet. Your shaky fingers pause when they find the laces. Seokjin's warmth appears beside you.
"You okay?"
He's frowning and you realise your teeth are chattering with nerves. "Mhm. Just cold."
"You can be honest with me, you know." Seokjin gets to his knees and gently swats away your hands from your skates, his own fingers deftly stringing the laces. "I know this must be hard for you."
"I'm just nervous." You swallow.
"I'll be by your side the entire time." Seokjin assures. "And if you even come close to falling I'll catch you. I'm not captain of the team for nothing right?"
You snort and kick him with the toe of your skate teasingly. Seokjin's tongue pokes out of the corner of his chapped lips as he concentrates on tying your laces into a neat bow, glancing up at you to check they're tight enough and flushing when he meets your gaze head on. It's endearing and gets your heart racing, and not just with anticipation or nerves any more.
"Promise?" Your voice shakes.
His hand covers yours in your lap. It's mitten covered and warm against your frost bitten skin. "Promise." He scratches his neck. "But if you want to back out at any time just tell me and we can forget this ever happened—"
"No!" You quip, squeezing his shoulder. "I want to do this. With you."
Seokjin flashes you a smile and offers you his elbow. "Then what are we waiting for?"
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Panic rises like bile in your throat as you get closer and closer to the the rink.
"No, no, no." You freeze up. "I can't!"
"You can." Seokjin insists, wrapping an arm around your waist as he guides you to the very edge. "Just don't think about it too much."
Don't think about it? How can you not think about it when your heart is beating a million miles an hour and your vision is blurring and you feel like you're going to pass out every time your body tells you to run run run as far away from the danger as possible?
"Look." Seokjin uses the barrier to lift himself onto the ice, sliding his feet back and forth to convince you. "I'm okay, right? Haven't fallen yet."
"Yet." You swallow, gripping the barrier to keep your balance even though you're still stood on solid ground.
"I won't." He offers you a hand. "Now come on. It's your turn."
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You'll be fine if you just stand on the ice right? Baby steps.
Your palm slides into his and before you can change your mind you're launching yourself forward, eyes squeezed shut as you simply glide straight ahead into Seokjin's open arms. Relief washes over you when he holds you tight and you're safe again, one eye opening carefully to check you're really balancing on the ice and not a pile of limbs on the ground.
"See! That wasn't so bad right?" You shake your head. "Now you just gotta remember how to move..."
Your eyes widen. "Seokjin, I think this is enough for today—"
"Wait!" Seokjin fiddles with the zipper of his pocket to retrieve his phone, removing one of his gloves so he can tap at the screen. "We can't do this without music."
A few seconds later Seokjin is pressing play on a slow track he has downloaded on his phone and sliding one of his earbuds into your ear, the other into his own. You recognise it instantly as it's the same one you used to perform to when he begged you to teach him a routine five years ago. He grabs you by the arm again and smiles, big and bright. "Perfect. Ready?"
You're squeezing Seokjin's hand so tight you're sure the circulation to his fingers must be cutting off but he doesn't say anything, just keeps his other hand protectively at the small of your back as you slowly start to slacken your vice like grip on the barrier.
To your surprise, your feet move without you telling them too, naturally gliding along the slippery surface as if they've never been away from it. Muscle memory, you figure, as you find yourself beginning to gain some speed.
"I'm doing it!" You pant, relief washing over you as the breeze hits your face. "I can't believe I'm doing it!"
Your eyes are glued to Seokjin's skates, focusing hard on moving your own in time with his every step. You feel his chuckle vibrate through you and you don't even have to look up to know his eyes are shining.
"See? I knew you could."
The music humming through the headphones reaches its pivotal moment and you've done this routine so many times you know what move comes next. A one foot spin.
A bout of fear ripples through you again but Seokjin's right there to soothe you when he sees your eyes widening as he starts to twirl you around. "Just let go!"
"Let go." You repeat to yourself, finally taking your fingers away from the barrier as you lift one skate from the ice and begin to spin and spin and spin until the cold wind burns your skin and you're so dizzy you don't know whether to laugh or cry.
You don't even notice the music has stopped until you come to a shaky standstill. You're gasping for breath and Seokjin is just staring at you, mouth open.
"Damn. I forgot how good you are."
"Shut up." You're grinning now, elation coursing through every fibre of your being. "Let's go again! — ah!"
All the spinning messed with your vision and it feels like everything goes into slow motion as your legs crumble beneath your weight and your body collides with the cold ice. All you can hear is your heart, pumping into overdrive with fear as you close your eyes and brace for the pain in your leg to begin.
Except confusion settles in the pit of your stomach when it never does. You wriggle you're toes, relieved that they seem to still work and then you're sitting up in a daze.
Seokjin's face appears over yours, eyes filled with fear as he pulls your head into his lap. "Are you hurt? I'm so sorry Y/N, I never should have brought you here, this was a bad idea—"
Exhilarated laughter interrupts his concerned rambling and before you know it you're clutching your stomach and wiping happy tears from your eyes.
You're not broken! You're. Not. Broken. And for the first time since the accident you feel free again, like all the anger and hurt and sadness inside you just melted away to nothing.
"Huh? Did you hit your head?" He asks confused, coughing bashfully when you throw your arms tightly around his neck.
"Thank you! For bringing me here. Can we go again?"
Seokjin helps you to your feet but stops you from getting ahead of yourself. "I think this was enough for today but how about we agree to meet here again tomorrow at say...3PM?"
You reach out a now steady hand for him to shake. "Deal."
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The next few weeks fly by when you have skating with Seokjin to look forward to every day.
As time goes by you start to regain your confidence, the panic that used to paralyse you whenever you set foot on the ice dissipating whenever Seokjin was around to reassure you.
You feel lighter than ever, like you're on top of the world. It's like everything is falling into place again. You have your skating back but more importantly you have Seokjin. And just being with him is like you're going at full speed on the ice, adrenaline and freedom coursing through you even when you're stood still.
It's like time stops when you're together just you and him and the ice, and that's how Seokjin finds himself running across campus in his ice hockey gear, late for practice again.
"So much for being a 'good captain.' Seokjin doesn't even turn up and he gets a college scholarship?" Park Jimin rolls his eyes at Jennie who is perched on his knee. Since Seulgi cut things off with him after his little show at the parade they've been pretty cosy, mostly because of their shared hatred for you and Seokjin respectively. "It's all that girl's fault."
"Who? Y/N?" Jennie says. "Ugh, I know. She's so full of it. I swear she thinks she's some pro skater or something."
"I mean, she is pretty good." Jimin confesses, stroking Jennie's thigh when she furrows her brows, smiling meekly. "But you're better, obviously."
"I don't know." She murmurs with a huff. "I was kinda glad when she stopped skating, y'know, because it meant that I was top of the league again. If she starts competing again..."
Jimin's eyes suddenly brighten with an idea. "Then we only have one option."
"What?"
"For me to become captain and for you to stay at the top, we gotta finish them once and for all."
"I like your thinking." Jennie purrs, but not before Seokjin runs into the campus locker rooms, out of breath as he fastens his ice hockey helmet around his chin.
"Sorry I'm late! I promise it won't happen—"
"Again?" Jimin scoffs, gesturing around at the rest of the team who are packing up their things. "Dude, you missed the whole of practice. We couldn't wait any longer so we had to start without you. Without our captain."
Seokjin throws his duffel bag into his locker, slamming the door shut a little too harshly. "And I said I'm sorry." A hush falls over the room, all eyes landing on the pair locked in a stare out. "I'll go practice now to make up for it, okay?"
He's hardly through the door when he hears Jimin snicker under his breath to Jennie. "This is why I'm telling coach he shoulda made me captain."
Seokjin freezes. "What did you say, Park?"
Jimin lets out a deep chuckle, standing up and squaring his shoulders though he's still a couple feet shorter than Seokjin. "I said that you're a shitty captain and I'm gonna take your place and your scholarship at the game on Christmas Eve."
"With your technique?" Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. "Tell me a funnier joke, Jimin."
"The only joke is your pathetic excuse for a skater girlfriend," Jennie spits, appearing behind Jimin and wrapping her arm around his waist in solidarity. "Maybe if you spent more time with your actual team instead of teaching that lost cause to ice skate you wouldn't feel so threatened."
"I'm not threatened." Seokjin clenches his fists. "...and she's not my girlfriend."
"Then prove it."
The contours of his face harden, jaw tense and shaking with a desire to set Park Jimin well and truly straight clouding his rationality as words he doesn't mean come flying out of his mouth before he can think better of it.
"Y/N means nothing to me, okay? I'm just teaching her to skate again because I feel bad about her accident." A finger pokes Jimin's chest harshly. Jennie seems startled. "And you're right. Maybe it is getting in the way of my focus. But guess what? From now on I'm only gonna be focused on beating your ass at the game on Christmas Eve and taking the scholarship that belongs to me."
"What?" A small voice sounds somewhere behind him and when Seokjin turns he finds you stood clutching the red scarf he left behind at the rink.
He can tell by the paleness of your face and the way your lip quivers that you heard everything. And before he can reach for you and explain, you're fleeing from the rink in a flood of angry tears for ever letting Seokjin melt the ice in your heart, even for a second.
"Y/N! Please wait!" Seokjin tugs at his hair exasperatedly, turning back to Jimin who is clapping with a dark smile.
"Looks like you have a choice to make, Seokjin."
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"Go away, Seulgi." You grumble as your blanket cocoon is ripped away from your body. You hear the footsteps of your best friend patter across the carpet to the window, the light that floods into the room when she rips open the drapes making you groan. "It's too bright."
"Come on, time to get up!" You yelp when a perfectly manicured hand wraps around your ankle, dragging you away from the warmth and comfort of the body-shaped dent in your mattress. "This situation officially requires an intervention! And as your best friend I am taking it upon myself to get your ass out of bed."
It's been almost a week since you last saw Seokjin. Almost a week since he crushed your heart like glass and stamped on the shattered remains and threw them into the garbage disposal when you found out you were just his charity case and nothing more.
And more importantly, it's been almost a week since you realised just how real your feelings were for him. Are for him.
After a small struggle Seulgi wins, despite how erratically you kick your legs in a bid to break free from her grip, and you end up landing with a thud in a pile of blankets and throw cushions on the floor. You rub your eyes with a sigh. "An intervention?"
"Yeah. It's been, like, a whole week since I've seen you leave this room Y/N. I have skating practice in half an hour and you're coming with."
Seulgi gets down cross legged, shuffling up beside you and pulling the blanket over both of your laps. When you finally blink at her blearily for the first time you see her flame-like hair has been scraped back into a tight ponytail and she's wearing a matching mesh skating outfit, clearly ready for practice.
"Thanks but no thanks." You snort. "As much as that sounds thrilling I'm good here."
Seulgi shakes her head and prods your shoulder, sing song voice hardening into a lecture. "You can't hibernate forever, Y/N."
"Can too." Your fingers find a loose thread in the throw cushion in your lap, picking at it mercilessly to avoid looking your best friend in the face for fear that she would see through your facade. "I like hibernating. It's fun."
"Fun?" Seulgi rolls her eyes. A few seconds pass before she lets out a gentle sigh, her voice softening. "Listen...have you spoken to Seokjin yet—"
You wince. Just the mention of Seokjin makes your heart pang.
"No." Your voice wavers. "And I'm not planning on it. How can I after what happened?" Finally allowing yourself to talk about it feels good and before you know it you're burying your head in your hands and letting everything go. "God, I'm so embarrassed, Seulgi."
"Oh, Y/N." Her hand rubs your back soothingly. "What really happened between you two? Why did you run?"
You swallow hard. "I just...got scared."
"Of skating again? You seemed to be doing better since you started training with Seokjin..."
"No. I was scared of..."
"Your feelings for him?"
You pause, unable to help the small smile that creeps onto your lips even despite the warm tears that have started to roll unceremoniously down your cheeks.
"How do you always manage to read my mind?"
"I'm your best friend remember?" Seulgi draws a line between your foreheads before she wraps her arms around your waist and lays her head on your shoulder. You squeeze her back, silently thanking her for being there when you need her. "Besides, it's not like you've been hiding it. Whenever he's around you go all heart eyes for him." She grimaces. "I'm starting to see why you used to complain about me and Jimin so much."
"Do not!" You grumble, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks when she shoots you an are you serious? look. "Okay fine, lets say theoretically I am all heart eyes for him? What's the point in even admitting it when everything is messed up now, anyway? He said it himself. He never felt the same way about me."
"Well, theoretically, I would tell you to just talk to him. Bottling up your feelings isn't gonna change anything. Besides, I think you still have a chance at making things right. I've seen him waiting around outside the rink after hours. For you."
You avert your eyes. Seokjin? Waiting outside the rink? For you?
"He was probably just passing by or something." You grumble with a shake of your head.
"Everyday this week?" She raises an eyebrow. "Seokjin is good for you, Y/N. You've been different since he turned up...good different. Back to the Y/N we all know and love."
"If you love me so much why won't you let me sleep for a little while longer?"
"Please, you know it's just because I need my honorary wingwoman back. Kim Taehyung is coming by the rink tonight." It's your turn to raise an eyebrow. Seulgi laughs. "Okay maybe it's because I love you a little bit. I think getting back to normal and being at the rink will lift your spirits. Whaddya say?"
You roll your eyes but Seulgi doesn't miss the curve of your lips. "Fine."
She claps her hands gleefully, jumping to her feet and rummaging through your closet. She throws a Christmas sweater at your head. "I'll be waiting in the car!" She skips out of the room, humming the tune of a vaguely recognisable Christmas song beneath her breath. You shake your head fondly when wisps of her red hair poke back around the doorframe a moment later. "Oh, and don't forget to dress warm. There's gonna be a blizzard tonight, remember?"
A few minutes later you're sat in front of your mirror, brushing the frizz out of your hair in a bid to look somewhat presentable when Seulgi knocks on your door again. You roll your eyes. She's always impatient.
"Uhh, Y/N?"
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" You yell, grabbing your coat. "Hang on!"
"There's someone here to see you."
Your bag drops to the carpet with a thump when you round the corner and see him stood on the doorstep.
"Seokjin?"
Well, you can't see much of him because he's wrapped head to toe in snow gear and he has a huge box in his arms with a red bow on top and there's snow all over his coat but seeing him again makes your chest constrict none the less.
Seulgi still has her fingers on the door handle and she's looking between the pair of you with wide eyes as you just stare long and hard. "Well, I guess I'll leave you two to it then." She sings, but it sounds squeaky and forced as she wraps a scarf around her neck, ready to face the blizzard outside. "Y/N, you know where I am if you need me."
You manage to get out a nod and then Seulgi is awkwardly shuffling around Seokjin who is blocking the doorway and seems to have forgotten how to use his feet.
It's not until the cold air from outside starts to permeate the cosy warmth from your crackling fire place that you realise Seokjin is really here — and he's still standing outside in the goddamn blizzard like he wants to become a human snowman.
His voice brings you back down with a jolt.
"Can I come inside?"
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Slanted shadows cascade across Seokjin's face as he peers through the blinds. The street outside is buried beneath a blanket of snow, and even from where you sit with your chin in your palm on the back of the couch you can see an icy flurry of flakes falling from the sky like frozen jewels beneath the glow of the street lights.
"Doesn't look like anyone's gonna be driving anywhere tonight." Seokjin murmurs. "This blizzard seems pretty severe."
You raise your eyebrow with a sigh. First Seokjin turns up on your doorstep unannounced, teeth chattering and covered in snow, and now he's gonna have to spend the night here? With you?
Seulgi sent you a text to let you know she was going to be staying with Taehyung for the night (wolf whistle) and follows up with some flirty emojis and a comment about enjoying your alone time with Seokjin which you can't see happening anytime soon what with the thick tension that sits heavy in the air.
Yeah, this could not get any more awkward, right?
Wrong.
"Thank you for the dry clothes." Seokjin gestures to the much-too-small hoodie that stretches across his torso and the jogging pants that barely reach his calves. The biggest items of clothing you could find in the clean laundry basket to replace his snow-sodden tshirt and jeans that had become transparent in some places by the time you invited him inside. If the situation weren't so tense you'd find it funny. "I thought you were gonna leave me out there all night and let me freeze to death for a minute."
You don't laugh, just keep your eyes on the dark swirls of hot cocoa you stir in two steaming mugs. He flashes you an awkward too soon? smile when you hand the largest mug to him, watching as he takes a grateful sip and sighs when it warms his insides.
A few seconds of silence pass interrupted only by the crackle of the blazing fire that creates orange flickering shadows over the contours of his face while you curl up on the opposite end of the couch beneath the patchwork blanket Seulgi bought you last December.
Finally you let out a sigh, looking at him properly for the first time. He seems worn around the edges, eyes ringed a little red as he fiddles with his fingers awkwardly. There's a pang in your chest.
"Why are you here, Jin?" The waver in your voice makes Seokjin's eyes soften at the corners. "I thought we were over. Whatever we were..."
"I wanted to talk to you."
You raise an eyebrow. "Couldn't you have waited until after the blizzard passed?"
"I needed to talk to you. To tell you the truth."
The truth. Did he really drive all the way over here just to rub it in that you meant nothing to him?
"What?" You scoff bitterly. "That you never really liked me? That I was just a joke to you this whole time?"
"No!" Seokjin reaches for you, some of his hot cocoa sloshing onto his pants in the process. He retracts his hand when you flinch. "That I'm a shitty, selfish idiot who got too caught up in his own drama to see what mattered most."
You dig your fingernails into your palm and promise yourself not to cry. "Then what about those things you said to Jennie, huh? Explain that."
"The scholarship." He tugs at a hangnail with his teeth, eyes filled with remorse. "When you saw me talking to Jimin that day he was trying to make me mad. He told me that if I kept skating with you..."
Suddenly it all makes sense. A wave of relief and realisation washes over you. It feels like your heart stutters back to life and you suck in a shaky breath.
"He'd tell the coach you weren't committed and get you kicked off the team." Seokjin nods and you instantly feel guilty that you didn't hear his side of the story before, fury towards Jimin burning up in your veins as you shake your fists. "That asshole! He's been mad this whole time that you got made captain instead of him and now he wants to ruin your chance at a scholarship? I have every mind to kick him in his tiny, useless—"
"I'm the asshole, Y/N." Seokjin tears you out of your rage as he leans forward and buries his face in his hands, shoulders quivering. "I let him get in my head and make me say things I didn't mean when I don't even care about the scholarship if..."
Your mouth is suddenly dry. "If what?"
He runs a hand through his hair carefully, finally lifting his gaze to lock with yours. "If I can't have you."
It's like you've been punched in he stomach but in the best way and you want to jump for joy or squeal like a goddamn school girl but all you can do is sit there with your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.
"But now I've lost you again and this time it's for good and I'm so so sorry—"
Before you can think better of it you're planting your hands on Seokjin's broad shoulders, throwing your leg over his lap and crashing your lips together.
"Mmf!" It takes a couple seconds for Seokjin to catch up but when he does he lets out a tiny gasp, chest melting against yours as his lips finally move in sync with your own. "Oh."
The way he sighs into your mouth is like he's been waiting forever for this and you feel a similar sense of satisfaction, finally able to curb the craving for him that has been aching inside you for Seokjin for as long as you can remember.
"You haven't lost me." You pant when you bring yourself to break away for a breath. "And you're not an asshole. You've been working towards this scholarship for years so—"
It's his turn to cut you off now, Seokjin's fingers hooking beneath your chin and tilting your head towards him so that he can press his lips against yours in a tentative kiss, swallowing your words in transit.
It's slow and languid, the way he slots his plump bottom lip between yours, making you melt instantly. His cheeks feel warm and soft in your hands as you cup them, the action feeling somehow just as natural as the warmth blossoming in your chest when Seokjin moves his lips against your own with an impossible tenderness.
"I missed you so much." Your eyes are still squeezed shut when he places a peck to the tip of your nose, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as he forces you to look at him by bumping your chin playfully. "I'm sorry."
You pull him closer to you, so close you're sure he can feel the way your heart is beating like a drum. "Don't be. Just kick Jimin's ass at the game tomorrow, okay?"
"I can do that."
He smirks, leaning in for another kiss but hissing when his crotch brushes your thigh a little too directly that has a warmth pulsing between your legs when you feel the big problem he seems to be trying to hide.
You gasp. "Are you...?"
"Maybe..." A groan passes his lips and he tips his head back bashfully, unable to curb his smile when you start giggling into the crook of his neck. "What? I've been imagining this moment for years."
"Then hurry up and kiss me again, idiot."
This time the kiss is hungrier, tongue and teeth tangling together as his hands tighten in your hair. He tastes like hot cocoa and you can't help but groan when his tongue languidly brushes against yours, hips starting to press down into his teasingly.
"Need more, need you — oh!"
"A-are you sure? I'm good just kissing if you don't wanna..."
"No! I want to." You promise. "I trust you."
"Good." Seokjin's lips murmur next to your ear as his fingers dig into the underneath of your thighs, the hardness in his pants pressing against your stomach as he gets to his feet and you throw your legs around his waist with a squeal. "Because I don't think I could handle a whole night here with you like this." Seokjin's teeth pull at your bottom lip and you open your mouth to groan but Seokjin's eyes flutter closed and he ends up staggering straight into the elaborately arranged Christmas tree that Seulgi spent hours decorating. "Shit!"
You both freeze, staring at the mess of tinsel and lights scattered across the ground before you're shrugging your shoulders with a whoops! and guiding Seokjin to your bedroom as he chuckles beneath you. The decorations can be cleaned up later but you need Seokjin now.
Throw cushions soften the blow as you're dropped onto the bed and Seokjin crawls over you, parting your legs with his knee and wasting no time in attacking your neck with his lips. He smirks against your collar bone when you shiver as his hands creep up the hem of your sweater and you rotate your hips impatiently against his thigh, desperate for some relief from the throbbing ache in your heat.
"Can I?" You nod and he wastes no time lifting the garment over your head and you reach behind to unclasp your bra, a shaky breath leaving Seokjin when his eyes roam across your bare breasts, sitting back against his heels to drink in every inch of skin.
"You're beautiful." A heat rises in your cheeks when he attaches his lips to your hardened nipple, lavving his tongue over the bud, a groan tumbling from his chest when you tangle your hands in his hair and arch your back, desperate for more.
"Please." You whimper, hands feeling for the waistband of his sweats when he comes up for air with a pop. "Wanna feel you."
The rise and fall of his chest quickens when your warm palm grasps him over the fabric, pads of his fingers tightening around your thigh when you sit up so you can slip your hand into his boxers, letting out a moan of your own when your fingers finally wrap around the girth of him.
He's hot and hard and heavy in your palm and your heart skips a beat when your thumb spreads the bead of precum leaking from his tip down his shaft, the slick movement of your hand as you begin to stroke him increasingly faster making his head fall into the crook of your neck.
"F-fuck Y/N." He bucks up into your fist and you smirk. "F-feels so good. Been imagining this."
"Me too." You confess, giggling when he grabs your wrist and flips you over so he can press you into the mattress again. "Can't believe this is happening."
"Me either." His fingertips run down your sides tentatively, hooking beneath the band of your jeans which are quickly stripped away and thrown across the room with a grin. He stops when he gets to your panties though, glancing up through his dark lashes, eyes ever gentle and filled with a combination of lust and fondness that you know you'll never be able to get enough of. "Are you sure?"
Your heart thumps with anticipation as you nod, pulling him down to connect your lips. "I'm sure." And with your confirmation Seokjin is dragging the lacy fabric down your bare legs slowly until they join the rest of your clothes on the floor.
Seokjin's eyes dip between your legs when you part them shyly, an involuntary oh my god slipping past his lips when he sees how your folds glisten with wetness, palm coming between your legs so you can grind your neglected clit against the heel of it while he slips a finger into your tight heat.
"Oh!" The intrusion makes you writhe, on one hand grateful for some relief but on the other ever more eager to feel fuller. The pads of his fingers drag against your walls deliciously and the pressure on your clit is just right and you feel your climax steadily build between your legs. "Wait!"
Seokjin pauses and you take advantage of his momentary confusion by flipping him onto his back, bracing your hands on his chest. "Wanna make you feel good too."
"H-how..." Seokjin starts, but then your hand is wrapping around his cock and lining the tip up with your entrance before sinking down to the hilt with a soft exhale that mingles with Seokjin's. "Fuck."
It takes a couple seconds for you to adjust to the size of him and you rest your cheek on his chest, listening to the way his heart beats uncontrollably. His fingers stroke your hair and you feel so overwhelmed with warmth that you're sure of it now; you're in love with Kim Seokjin.
"Ready?" His nod is eager and when you start to move your hips his head throws back into the pillows and you can see the way his adams apple bobs every time his cock nearly falls out of your heat before your slamming back down again in a steady rhythm.
Eventually you feel the coil in your belly start to tighten again, eyes rolling back as you lose yourself to the feeling of his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust and you're a mess of whimpers and breathy moans. Seokjin's big palms come up to cup your ass, holding you steady so he can pound his own hips up to meet your movements at an even faster pace than before.
"Seokjin!" You cry, bracing yourself with a hand on the wall behind the bed. The angle has your clit grinding against his pubic bone with every upward thrust and before you know it you're shuddering and reaching your high, vision turning black as you feel your walls tighten impossibly hard around Seokjin, the action enough to have him falling over the edge with you.
A few seconds pass where your pants of satisfaction just mingle together before Seokjin is cupping your face and whispering the three words you've always wanted to hear against your lips.
"I love you." He croaks, the sincerity in his voice making the corners of your lips turn up. And in that moment you feel the last pieces of your heart flutter into his hands and you know you are undeniably, irrevocably, forever and always his.
Seokjin suddenly flips you onto your back, leaving a series of playful kisses all over your face, each punctuated by a sillier "I love you!" until you're pushing him away by the chest and snuggling up into his side instead, head on his arm where you feel so safe and warm you never want to leave.
"Can I ask you something?" You whisper shyly. He nods, eyes falling shut as he plays with your hair contentedly.
"Why did you leave without telling me before?"
Seokjin brushes your noses together. "Because I knew I wouldn't be able to leave if you told me not to go."
You smile up at him, thumb tracing his jaw fondly. "You cheesy idiot."
Realisation flashes across his face. "Wait! I forgot about the cheesiest thing yet." You groan when he throws the covers off, assaulting you with a blast of cold air as he pulls his pants back on and disappears back into the living room. His head pokes around the doorframe cheekily, something hidden behind his back as he stalks back over to the bed, eyes glinting. "I got you something."
You furrow your brows when he produces the large box from earlier, now able to read your own name scrawled across the gift tag in his messy handwriting.
"Surprise!" He holds it out for you to take. "I wanted to wait until Christmas but now feels like the right time to give it to you."
Your fingers shake with excitement as they carefully untie the ribbon and remove the lid, revealing an abundance of pink tissue paper surrounding a pair of the most beautiful ice skates you have ever seen. The very same ice skates you remember seeing in that shop display at the Christmas market all those weeks ago, except the laces have been swapped out for a pair of candy-cane coloured ones, just like the miniature ornament he once gave you has been brought to life.
"Seokjin." Tears well in the corners of your eyes as you turn them over in your hands in pure disbelief. "They're really mine?"
He nods, scratching the back of his neck anxiously. "Do you like them?"
"I love them." You assure him, scrambling to your knees so you can plant your hands on his shoulders and kiss him hard and slow. "But I love you more."
His face heats up a rosy red and he pulls you into his chest to avoid the evidence (and the cheesy grin appearing on his face.)
"Impossible."
“Wait!” You sit up suddenly with a pout. “But I didn’t get you anything.”
Seokjin just laughs. “You’re the best Christmas gift I coulda asked for.”
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It's Christmas Eve and you're sat in the bleachers, eyes glued to the number 33 jersey moving swiftly around a group of defence men on the ice below.
Through the unruly cheers of the crowd you can hear the faint throb of your own heartbeat pulsing in your chest, breathing rigid as the game gets tense — there's one minute left, the score is 2:2, and the opposition is pretty good for a college team — but you know Seokjin is better and you cross your fingers tightly as you see him steal the puck.
With a sharp flick of his wrist he launches the black puck into the air. It spins a few times before it slams into the net and the crowd around you erupts into a frenzy. Your heart beats with pride as his team mates lift him onto their shoulders, punching the air and thumping his back in elated congratulations. Even the scholarship board who you can see sat in the front row seem impressed, nodding their heads and scribbling furiously in their notebooks.
Kim Seokjin! Kim Seokjin! Kim Seokjin!
Seokjin lands back on his feet and then he's ripping off his helmet, cupping his forehead, and squinting up through the harsh reflection of the ice at the bleachers, scanning every single face until his eyes land on yours and a giant grin tugs at the corners of his lips. Suddenly it's as if everyone around you disappears and it's just you and him against the world.
But the moment is interrupted when Seokjin is suddenly knocked off his feet by another body moving at full speed. Park Jimin. You know it's him because you can see his hard eyes peering out from between the bars of his helmet as he throws his hockey stick down on the ice and angrily swings himself over the barrier so he can storm out of the rink.
A cacophony of gasps sound around you. The whistle blows. Seokjin is flat against the ice. Your heart starts to pound.
"Come on Seokjin. Get up. Please get up." You cross your fingers behind your back, brushing away the searing fear that runs hot in your veins telling you to run, that he's injured beyond repair. "Get up!"
And then, he gets up.
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Before Seokjin can reach the edge of the rink you're running down the bleachers, pushing through the crowd to get to him. He's breathing heavily when he pulls off his helmet but that doesn't stop the beaming smile that appears on his face when he sees you coming his way.
"You're an idiot!" You whisper into his neck when you crash into him full force. His arms curl around your back, legs wobbling in his skates as he tries to find his balance and prevent you both from falling. "You could have gotten hurt! Or worse!"
"But I didn't, did I?" Seokjin cocks an eyebrow. "Not even gonna congratulate your boyfriend on his smashing win?"
Seokjin chuckles when you shake your head and hit his chest with a pout that desperately wants to turn into a smile. His eyes soften when they meet yours and you instinctively unwind your scarf and drape it around his neck when his teeth start to chatter.
You finally give in to the way the corners of your mouth tug. "Just shut up and kiss me already."
"Gladly." Seokjin chuckles, pulling your face into his hands and planting his lips on yours.
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hazard-and-friends · 4 years ago
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i watched the first episode of canine intervention tonight, here’s some uncensored liveblogging featuring my spicey dog training takes:
“my dog training system is known all over the world" mhmm. lemme google this guy.
by clicking through his in person training site to his online remote training course, i found a whole lot of big red flags: "Establish pack leadership" dogs don't have pack leaders. anyone who wants to make you a leader is not using a good understanding of dog behavior "Time your praise and corrections" the times when i use corrections are when i'm the least on my game. my goal is NEVER to use corrections/positive punishment. why should i? it's concerning that he uses it as a core part of his method. "Exercise and reinforce your leadership as a way of life" more leadership bullshit.
fancy letters are not the end-all-be-all, and there are trainers i seriously respect who have none of them. but they don't talk about leadership and corrections. it's concerning that he talks about his sports team as a kid, where he went to high school, and his celebrity clients, but not his mentors and education in training.
back to the show
why does his facility have enough dogs to keep them in kennels? how does that teach aggressive dogs how to be safe in a home environment?
not all of the dogs in the first shot of a class (~1:38) have two collars on but a lot do. that's not a red flag (i worked sydney in two collars [her flat collar and a martingale, because syd was very gear smart and it was nice to tell her that we were doing heeling now]) but with what i saw on his website? it's quite likely that one of those is the dog's normal flat collar with tags, and the other is a prong, choke chain, or electric collar
also: "I help the dogs that no one else will" is a flat out lie
if you're willing to take on any human aggression cases, generally you’re willing to take on all of them. now, some of these cases may generally lead to a recommendation of euthanasia. but that's in the best interests of the dog and owner
oop class shot where it's clear that they're wearing prongs
here's two points not about this guy specifically: 1) it is hard (impossible?) to do humane, ethical dog training in a 45 minute episode slot. it's not good tv. it's slow as hell. there's no drama. the aggression trainers i know? have never been bitten. many have never been CLOSE to being bitten. no tv value. 2) the positive dog training community is OVERWHELMINGLY white and middle class.
it's also full of racists.
"Nearly a million dogs are euthanized yearly and over 40% of them are pit bulls" i've calculated that first statistic myself, but it's important to put it in context: this is USA specific, and that's down from 3-4 million 20 years ago. the second one, i would love to see his source.
he's right that it's important to understand where aggression comes from
anyway back to those two points, at the same time that it's really, really hard to do compelling TV with ethical dog trainers, it's also really REALLY important that the positive dog training community be working on being anti-racist. and it's really, really important that low income dog owners and people of color are getting good dog training.
alright first case! he's had her 3 months, 3 bites in that time. 10 attempted attacks. she's a young adult bully breed mix who had one front leg amputated after being shot. owner walks her in a muzzle which is a) too small and b) not bite proof.
"I see what we're working with" he says, after approaching a dog in her crate. hazard responds similarly to someone coming in, but he's not a bite risk. that's not a good evaluation.
he is correct about lady macbeth's motivations: this is a dog who's scared as hell and making herself really big and scary so that everyone leaves her alone.
okay he's also right that playing with her around strangers is really, really good for fear aggression
"frenzied just chaotic state" yeah no
reality check for y'all: i am not an aggression specialist and i have seen more freaked out dogs
she was on edge! she was unhappy! but holy shit was she not even remotely close to what dogs are capable of
"she just bit me!" she nipped your cheek, not breaking skin. that's a level 1 or 2 (of 6). that's not NOTHING but it's well within normal for a dog who's being restrained when she wants to be somewhere else.
[note that at no point in the episode was the owner ever given any sort of indication that lady macbeth is not this horribly aggressive Pit Bull TM. nor was there any discussion of a bite scale.]
"The only option we're gonna have is to [board and train] for 3 weeks" "I have no choice but to take her back to my facility back in San Jose and work daily with her" no!!!!!
[15 minute break]
lmao sorry i had to go yell at gf about how much this board and train is not necessary and in the process penny decided to cause Drama again
ANYWAY, the b&t is not necessary because all of those aggressive incidents bar the first could have been avoided if the owner was on the ball. this is not JUST a lady macbeth issue, this is ALSO an owner issue. both of them need to relearn how to handle new people.
as a bonus, lady macbeth needs to learn to trust her owner, which she categorically cannot do in a b&t
"The box is an important training tool to teaching new behaviors. It's also a first step in establishing pack leadership" ok this is new to me
and new is not a good thing here
text: Obedience depends on a dog's trust and respect for their pack leader calculus depends on your trust and respect for your math teacher! if you respect them a lot you will magically be able to do calc!
I WAS HOPING. I WAS TRYING.
i was HOPING that his training for her fear aggression would be based in toy play.
instead he's got a fake arm and he keeps reaching out to poke her, and the owner says "no!" and does a leash pop (leash wrapped around her neck) every time she tries to bite.
"She doesn't know it's not his hand" it smells like plastic what would she THINK it is
also funky that we're 19 minutes into the episode about an aggressive bully breed mix and the trainer's childhood bully breed mix who killed a dog, and like. not a single mention of what these dogs were bred for.
let's go back to "how are you teaching aggressive dogs to live nicely in a home, if they are spending most of the day in a wire kennel"
for shits take, high school doesn't teach you how to handle your emotions! why should obedience class teach your dog the same?
and then like, every time she breaks the down he yells NOPE and leans over her??????
dude you're scaring her into being obedient. while you're talking about how it's important to treat her fear.
text: Fear based aggression can be reduced by desensitizing the dog to strangers you're right! it sure can! THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU'RE DOING HERE
you've got a dog on her side with one hand over her, the other on a skinny check chain on her neck. every time she does anything but lay flat, the leash is popped and you say no. you are flooding this dog and creating learned helplessness.
jo summed it up well with this: he's good at seeing the behavior, he knows what he's looking at, he just can't change it. he only knows one method.
jo and i are now trying to figure out if "dog training but marie kondo not cesar milan" is a viable tv show
jas correctly stops the friend and changes how he approaches the dog, that's a good response
i'm laughing bc after a 3 week board and train which is not going to be less than $4k, he's giving the exact same "how to meet new people" directions that i would give to a similar client--at the start of our time! not at the end!
"I can't imagine imagine a dog having it too much worse than she did, the fact that she took a gunshot, the fact that she had no security for years of her life" alright dude a) think worse, this PALES to abuse cases b) let's not? shittalk? the care that people without reliable housing give to their dogs (and occasional cat!)?? because what they do for their pets is incredible, and it isn't necessarily connected to her opinions on strangers
so yeah still laughing bc like. that "happy ending" would be my first session with a client. that's how you START handling stranger danger. and for this the owner paid thousands.
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livralph · 5 years ago
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Too late- drarry angst but it ends in fluff bc I can’t commit to angst
Harry winced as Draco applied the murtlap essence to the cuts and scratches on his arm, but other than that managed to hide the discomfort it had put him in. Draco hesitated, looking uncertainly at him. His hands were reaching to the table to pick up the bandages that were sat atop of it. “I’m fine.” Harry said through his teeth, proving how obviously not fine he was.
“You aren’t, but I’m going to put the bandage on no matter how much it hurts because otherwise that will get infected.” Draco countered, shaking his head lightly when he began wrapping the bandage around his friends upper arm.
“It won’t get infected-“
“It will.” He said harshly, eyeing Harry reproachfully before allowing his gaze to wander to the bruises on his chest. “Those will take ages to heal. I’d prescribe you something, but seeing as you refuse to go to St Mungo’s I can’t.”
“Draco.” Harry muttered pleadingly. “I can’t go, because I’ll have to say what happened.”
The bandage on Harry’s arm finally covered the wounds effectively so Draco cut the end and secured it to stop it from unravelling. “You could at least tell me what happened.”
After not even a second of thought Harry shook his head. “No I can’t.”
Of course, this had been what Draco had expected. It happened so often. Harry would come to his with an injury and refuse to explain it. Years ago, when Harry was still an auror, he didn’t ask for an explanation, only laughed and muttered something about Harry and his need to be a hero. But that had been years ago. Now Harry worked in Diagon Alley with Luna, a small cafe which they also sold second hand muggle books and books detailing the various creatures Luna’s mind obsessed over from. There was no reason for Harry to come to Draco’s with new injuries that were obviously not from simply tripping over every other week. He’d once had a broken collar bone and Draco practically dragged him to St Mungo’s, still being non the wiser about what had happened.
“Tell me.” Draco implored, looking over Harry’s form sadly. The bruise upon his ribs were shaping out to obviously be from punches. There was one mark on his stomachs that were certainly left by magic- the cruciatus curse, and Draco couldn’t even bare to think how he’d gotten it, let alone who had given him it. “Please.”
Harry shook his head, though he looked closer to giving in than he ever had before, eyes screwed shut, eyebrows furrowed. “I can’t. I can’t, because if I did I’d have to tell you something else that I can never say.”
Draco’s hands fell to his lap and he became very aware of the pain in his legs from kneeling beside the sofa for so long. He knew what that was, of course he did. The thought was dismissed as soon as it arrived. Now it would be crewl to retract what he’d said years ago a while after they’d become friends. They were drunk, in Harry appartment. Pretending that two years previously the war hadn’t ended, Harry hadn’t died and somehow come back when so many children and adults and magical creatures were lost. Harry hadn’t spoken for a few minutes, nor had Draco. They were just sat in the kitchen, sipping their fire whiskey gently.
Or, Draco had been. Harry has been looking at Draco as if he’d just had some revelation. He saw the look in the corner of his eye and grimaced. The words he’d said were so vivid that he played them on repeat each time Harry and him went out to eat together, when Harry came to his house with muggle movies when Narcissa had fallen ill and forbade him from moping at her bedside, every time they’d seen eachother and felt that the line of friendship they’d managed to maintain had become blurred.
The words were right there because he’d said them and however much he hated that he had he couldn’t allow himself to tell Harry he hadn’t meant them. Draco had meant it eight years ago and he still meant it with Harry lying shirtless on his sofa, seconds away from explaining it.
“There were some people, teenagers really, in the Alley between the cafe and Ollivanders. They were being loud, shouting about death eaters and I heard a few screams, so I went down- to make sure no one was in trouble, y’know.” He breathed deeply. “They always get excited when they see me- famous Harry Potter. The wizard who killed Voldemort, who’s parents died when he was a child, who lost fucking everything that could have been good. They only see the first bit. I said hi, made sure they were all right. Then they explained what they were doing.”
Draco laughed, but there wasn’t a drop of humour to it. He could guess where this was going. “They we’re putting up pictures of ex-death eaters who hadn’t been prosecuted. Or just followers of Voldemort who they thought deserved some shit.”
Harry nodded. “Posters of you, saying there was a reward if you were given to the ministry alive, bigger reward if you were dead. Other names too, Slytherin’s, all of them. Some of them were first years when we were in our eighth year. I told them to stop. Didn’t go to plan, especially when I told them I know you.”
“For fucks sake, Harry-“
“I old them you’re a good person, said your a healer now- bloody good one too. And then-“ Harry lifted his less injured arm and gestured at himself. He bit the inside of his cheek when he felt a sharp pain sear across his shoulder blades. “It happens all the time, Luna keeps trying to get me to report them. Same kids every time.”
Draco covered his face with his hands hunching over himself and speaking, though it was to muffled to be in any way comprehensible. He looked up a few moments later. His eyes were glassy, as if he were trying not to cry. “Why don’t you? Look at yourself, these aren’t even all from today- they’re from the three weeks ago because you haven’t even managed to heal from the last time they attacked you.”
Harry just let out a deep breath and shook his head.
“Why do you stop them?” He muttered weakly, not wanting to know the answer. “Even Pansy wouldn’t stand up to them, hell, Luna doesn’t stop them. Why do you?”
“You know why. I know you do.” Harry put his hand out towards Draco, begging him to take it.
He laughed bitterly, looking at the outstretched hand and to where his own were still in his lap. “I told you not to fall in love with me.”
When he accepted that Draco wasn’t going to acknowledge his hand more than he had he sat up a little more so that he could rest his hand on the side of Draco’s face. His friend flinched, eyes closing to stop his tears, falling one was already making its way down his face.
“Harry-“ Draco began, only to be stopped when Harry’s thumb brushed across his cheekbone, wiping away the tear. He exhaled shakily.
“Too late.”
Draco clenched his jaw. Maybe if he wished hard enough this wouldn’t be real. Harry wasn’t actually telling him he was in love with him. This was all some wicked dream to torture Draco more than ever. At least usually when he had dreams about Harry they had no trace of truth, he could simply brush it off and go on with life. That was the only was he knew what was going on wasn’t a dream, never would his imagination be this crewl.
“You’re in love with me.” Draco said, meaning to ask it, but it came out as a statement. He felt Harry nod, which surprised him enough to open his eyes. Harry had moved to be sat on the floor in front of Draco they were at eye level. “You’re an idiot.” He breathed against Harry’s mouth.
“Maybe.”
“Just maybe?” It was bordering teasing, but the air was too thick for it to work. It sounded deadly serious from the circumstances. That was probably for the better.
“Well, can’t be that bad; I know you love me too, don’t I?” The air was thin again, Draco could feel his limbs.
“Do you?” But even as he spoke his hands were moving to rest on the back of Harry’s neck and find the hand that wasn’t on his cheek.
“Maybe.” Their fingers wove together.
“Just maybe?” Draco repeated, his tears now mingled with Harry’s both of their cheeks.
Harry opened his eyes, and somehow Draco did this around the same time. He shrugged shyly at the blonde, eyes fixed intently on the grey ones inches from his.
Draco took this moment to press a delicate kiss to Harry’s lips. “Of course I love you, Harry.”
He allowed a smile to grow on his face. “I love you too.”
Draco snorted, “I’ve been trying to convince myself that that wasn’t true for years.” Harry tensed in his arms. “I don’t deserve you- I don’t, Harry. Or- I thought I didn’t. I was in such a bad place and things were just going worse. There’s this muggle thing I read about. Karma; I learnt about it in our repeat seventh year. I took muggle studies.”
“I remember.” Harry breathed.
“Of course you do.” Draco laughed as said the words, more tears falling from his eyes and they only fell harder when Harry wiped them away. “But, I thought it was karma for what I’d done for Vo- for Voldemort. The threats that I still get, my mother’s death, so many other things. I figured if we were in love it would go to shit. It wasn’t difficult to decide losing you all together would be so much worse than being just friends.”
“Well, let me tell you something, you’ll never lose me completely. I’ll always be here for you no matter what you need me for.”
Draco pressed their foreheads together lightly and kissed Harry again because he could. “Stupid fucking hero complex.” The words were muffled as Draco spoke them directly into the other mans mouth, but Harry laughed all the same.
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kirishwima · 5 years ago
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I'm glad to hear you're having so much fun! I'd like the RFA boys (including V, my fave as well ♡ ) reaction to MC who's super outgoing & fun in the chatroom (cracking jokes with Seven, teasing & complimenting the others, jokingly flirting & fangirling over Elizabeth 3rd) but doesn't show up to the party bc she's like super shy & awkward in person, especially since she's nervous about meeting them for the first time? How would they handle it? Sry this is oddly specific & many thanks ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ❤
awe i really like this idea! id probably be just as shy tbh lmaosince you specified MC’s gender, I’ll write this with a female MC! ^^
ZEN:
* He’s seen MC before the party as she’s visited his home, but he was so shocked to see this cute shy girl on his front door, so unlike the bubbly person he’d got used to in the RFA chatrooms!
* He figured it’s just nervousness because she’s meeting him for the first time and tried to make her as comfortable as possible, reminding her that he’s still the same person as the one she’s talked  to in the messenger, but it does little to ease her nerves-MC’s stiff as a brick, stuttering short responses to Zen’s questions
* Eventually he decides to take a bolder approach-as they’re sitting on the couch sipping tea, he takes a hold of MC’s free hand and interlocks her fingers with him, bringing them up to his heart.
* “Do you feel how fast it’s beating?” he asks, his face a flush of furious red to match his eyes, “you’re the cause of it. I’m just as nervous as you are, and the only reason I can hide it so well is because of my acting skills, so please...don’t be so nervous around me. Let’s make each other feel more comfortable.”
* MC promises she’ll try, and slowly but surely manages to ease up a little around Zen, enough at least to talk normally with him (she will however McFreaking Faint if he so much as hugs her which, let’s be real, is totally valid)
* Talking to Zen has been accomplished, but going to the RFA party, where she’ll have to face dozens of strangers at once...is a completely different matter
* The day of the party, Zen woke up much earlier than she did, getting everything ready for the big day, his nervousness manifesting into an excited energy. 
* MC on the other hand...wasn’t having it. The moment she woke up her stomach churned, her skin pale with terror. She couldn’t do this, it was impossible, she just can’t up and go to this party, she can’t face all these strangers at once she can’t-
* Zen immediatly noticed her anxiety, and tried his best to talk her out of it-assured her he’ll be with her the whole time, and that the rest of the RFA would have her back as well.
* If he saw that MC was still nervous, he’d hold her hand in his, and tell her it’s okay if she doesn’t want to be there, if she wants to take it slow in meeting everyone else, but that if she decided to come, he’d protect her like her knight in shining armor. 
* At the end of the day, the choice is hers, and he’ll support it no matter what
JUMIN:
* The situation is somewhat similar as Zen’s-meeting MC before the party helped her get used to him, and with such big matters like Elizabeth the 3d dissappearing at hand, she had little time to let her shyness sink in-she had to be there for Jumin, and that took the most priority in her mind.
* When all was said and done however, and she’d finally gone back to the apartment to prepare for the party....her legs turned into jello, her stomach twisted uncomfortably in her belly as she realised just what would take place the next day.
* It wasn’t even just the party and the guests, it wasn’t just that she’d be meeting the rest of the RFA-Jumin had invited his father, his father’s girlfriend, all those cameramen....goosebumps appeared on her skin just at the thought of it
* She felt horribly guilty when, on the day of the party, instead of waking up and getting ready, she laid in bed curled into a ball, her breath hitched in her throat.
* Even checking the time became stressful-what was the rest of the RFA doing right now? Would they hate her for ditching them like that? Would Jumin despise her?
* She couldn’t say she wasn’t expecting a call when the hour of the party neared. Jaehee was the first to call, frantic as to why MC wasn’t there yet when she ‘was the star of this event’ according to Jumin. She let MC know just how busy the venue was, something she could judge for herself just by the hustle and bustle she could hear in the backgroung of the call.
* “I’m sorry Jaehee I just-I can’t make it. I’m really not feeling well, I’ll-I’ll send an apology to the guests after the party. Please greet them properly for me.”
* Jaehee couldn’t get another word in before MC hung up, her fingers shaking as she ended the call.
* Moments later she received another phone call, this time from Jumin.
* She expected him to yell, to ask her how she could disappoint him like this, why she’d betray his trust-
* What she didn’t expect was the sound of a moving car as Jumin answered the phone, worry ebbed in his voice.
* “MC? Where are you, what’s wrong? Jaehee said you’re not feeling well, I’ve let her take care of the guests and I’m heading your way. I haven’t managed to contact V yet and ask about the apartment’s location but I’m working on it, do you think you can meet me at the nearest street to the apartment? Do you require medical assistance?”
* He was bombarding her with questions, and she could picture his face perfectly-loosening his tie as his throat felt constricted, a scrunch forming at the bridge of his nose as his lips form a thin line, his tell-tale sign of worry.
* “Jumin I-” she couldn’t lie, not to him. “I can’t-there’s so many people coming, so many cameras, and I know I promised I’ll be right beside you, and I don’t want to betray that trust I just-I can’t do it. I’m not comfortable with this, you saw how I was just with meeting you, what if I make a fool of myself at the party?!”
* Jumin remained silent for a long moment before replying, his voice gentler than she’d ever heard it before.
* “Darling, you could never betray my trust. I love you and believe in you wholeheartedly, and would never want to put you in a position you’re not comforatble with. If you feel that the party will make you nervous, then we simply won’t go. I can deal with Sarah and Glam Choi in a different way. What matters the most to me is you.”
* This boy loves MC, no questions asked. He’ll do whatever will make her happy and comfortable ((even if it makes poor Jaehee suffer orz))
YOOSUNG:
* This boy...has literally gone through hell and back for MC
* And he’d do it 100 times over, because even if he hasn’t met her, he loves her. Not for who he thought she’d be, but for who she is, and for who she helped him become.
*He’s so excited to meet her at the party, he even left the hospital early simply to be there for her...
*....Only MC is no where to be found.
* Immediatly he feels his heart drop. He’s so worried something happened to her, maybe that evil organisation got to her-maybe-
* He wastes no time in calling her, rushing out of the party venue, ready to grab Seven by the collar and get the location of Rika’s apartment out of him if he must so he can find MC.
* When MC answers, he’s shocked by the quietness of her voice, how it sounds like she’s almost trembling as she speaks. He asks her what’s wrong, if he needs his help, and she breaks down, telling him the truth about how nervous and shy she is, how she doesn’t feel like she can come to the RFA party.
* Yoosung...really gets it. He was quite similar to MC until not so long ago!
* “Okay. If you don’t want to come, then you don’t have to”, he says, and MC feels as if he’ll hang up after saying this, probably to never speak to her again, “but I’m coming to you. You’re my pre-girlfriend remember? And-listen, I’m shy too. I’d be shaking like a leaf if I were to talk to a girl on the phone at any other instance! But you changed that. You helped me become a better, braver person, and I’m still changing and evolving, thakns to you. So...let me help you change as well? Please?”
* Who can say no to this boy, srsly
* If MC’s fine with it, he’ll meet her for coffee (Although to be fair she’ll probably have to drag him back to the hospital YOOSUNG IT’S NOT SAFE TO BE OUTSIDE AFTER SUCH A SURGERY i have to break the fourth wall as a med student to say this aA)), and he’ll help her slowly meet the rest of the RFA, one at a time
* ...He’d probably leave Seven for last though lmao
SEVEN:
* I mean, neither of them was going to go to the RFA party anyway lmao
* Let’s, for the sake of this scenario, assume that they’re both attending next year’s RFA party, after the hacker incident!
* Seven’s so excited, he’s picked what suit he’ll wear weeks before the party, happy to be enjoying this with his beloved.
* MC however...doesn’t seem all that thrilled.
* He knows she’s shy-it took her so long to open up to him, he genially thought she hated him at first! She’d barely glance his way, her cheeks burning a fiery red that easily beat his hair colour the first time they’d kissed, and it took a long time for her to simply get used to his presence around her.
*He knew what it’s like to be a different person online, so he’d never judge her for it-besides, he knows both her online persona and the shy girl in front of him are the same person, just how his happy-go-lucky attitude on the messenger is just another side of him too.
* He tried his best to hype her up for the party, told her about all the pranks they could pull on Yoosung and Zen, how he’d hack the speakers to Rick Roll everyone if she wanted him to, and for a while, it seemed like she was a little excited about it to.
* The night before the party however, as Seven brought his suit out to show to MC (or maybe he brought out another cosplay to troll her lol), MC broke down, tears striking her face as she shook her head, saying she can’t she can’t do this, can’t go to a room full of strangers and act happy, she’d be so nervous she’d vomit, what if she makes a full of herself-
* Seven stops her, placing a hand on her shoulder and gripping her gently to snap her out of it.
* “We don’t have to go if you don’t feel comfortable. MC, I never, never want to pressure you into anything, and I’m sorry if I made you feel like you have to go. Listen, we can spend the day just us two, we can meet the rest of the RFA at a later time and explain it to them, we don’t have to go, you hear me? I just...I want you to be happy. That’s that.”
* She shook her head. “No but-you were so excited to go, I don’t want you to miss out because of me I’m-”
* Seven laughs with a roll of his eyes, bringing his hands to wipe the tears off of MC’s face. “Do you hear yourself? I’m not missing out on anything, except the moments when I’m not with you, silly. There’ll be another RFA party time and time again, but if you never want to go to any of them, then I won’t go either. Besides...we can always troll the RFA from the comfort of our home too” he shrugs, a devilish smirk on his lips.
* He’ll definitely try and help MC to slowly come out of her comfort zone, but he realises such a feat takes time, and he’s not about to push her into a situation she won’t feel safe in. He’s happy so long as they’re together, be it at the party, at home, or at the ends of the earth.
V/JIHYUN:
* Again, for the sake of the scenario, we’re talking about a future RFA party, after everything’s been settled. 
* It’s the first RFA party he’d go to in a long time, and he’s just so happy to be there with MC by his side, to make new, wonderful memories with her.
* He has to admit, when he met her he was taken aback by how shy she was-the way she spoke to him via messages, it was nothing alike to the way she stuttered as she greeted him (granted, she did think he was nothing but an AI so *shrug*)
* He was so insanely patient though, approaching her slowly, at her own pace, until she was comfortable enough around him to just be herself. He’d never wanst to upset her, and would honestly wait forever if it’s what she needed.
* So when he noticed her apprehension about the party, he didn’t think much of it-he’d talk to her about it, try to make her as comfortable as possible, tell her that both he and the rest of the RFA would be there for her no matter what.
* It seemed like she agreed, as she smiled and nodded, but that all changed the day of the party.
* V woke up with a smile on his lips, ready to face the day, only when he patted the bed next to him for MC she was no where to be found.
* He frowned, but figured she might’ve woken up before him, the nervousness for the day keeping her up.
* He was more than shocked to find her in the kitchen, tears threatening to spill from her face as she looked down into her cup of coffee.
* He’s there for her in a flash, cupping her face between his hands, kissing her eyelids as he whispers soft affirmations to her.
* “Honey, no, what’s wrong? Please don’t cry, please..”
* It took a while to calm her down, and even then feeling the tremble of her body as she spoke made his heart ache.
* “I’m sorry V, I’m so sorry I-I know you were so excited for the party but I just-I’m not ready for this. I tried, I’m trying to push myself, to be more open and social so I can be the girlfriend you can proudly bring with you to parties and gallery openings and stuff but I’m-I’m not ready” she concluded with a defeated sigh, another sob threatening to escape her lips.
* V kissed her, once, twice, held her in a tight embrace as he rested his chin on the top of her head.
* “Baby, I don’t care about any of that. If you don’t feel comfortable going to the party, then we don’t have to go, and that’s that. I don’t care about galleries or parties or anything of the sort. I care about you.” He leaned back holding MC by the shoulders as he smiled, fondness clear in his eyes. “I care about you. I love you. I do want to help you slowly get out of your comfort zone, if anything then only so you can see how much kindness can exist between strangers, how much more of the world you can experience when you put anxiety aside, but I never never want to pressure you into anything.”
* He means it. This boy just wants his girlfriend to be happy, parties be damned.
* He’s absoloutely content to spend the day cuddling MC and watching old movies; he trusts the rest of the RFA and knows the party will be just as successful even without the two of them there.
* He will do his best to slowly help MC with her shyness, and maybe, eventually-they’ll proudly stand side by side at a future RFA party.
Sorry this was sort of long lol, hope you like it!
~Send me scenarios/headcanons for mystic messenger character(s) to react to!~
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echotovalley · 5 years ago
Text
so because I’m taking a writing break but still super needy
I figured I would post this outline for a pokemon au that I’m never going to write. it’s basically notes from a conversation I had back in early 2018? Imagine my surprise going back now and realizing this might read much like Detective Pikachu - cubone is just my favorite pokemon
***before we get into anything please know that while I play pgo and I’ve learned LOTS of new pokemon, I’m still the most familiar and attached to the og 150 + 1. I also probably get a lot of canon pokemon rules and history wrong but my heart is in the right place
reblogs appreciated! | come talk at me about your thoughts or literally anything
premise: keith might not be a pokemon person
but pokemon are definitely a keith person
- for unknown reasons keith docks in cuba, he's kind of just been getting work and moving moving always moving because one place never works out for long. pokemon are everywhere but it's not his thing.
it never happened for him besides why would he make an animal be saddled with him? there's no stability there. and again, he's always moving. through so many different regions.
he doesn't have the heart to yank a sandshrew onto a barge across the atlantic or a charmander up the northeast coast of the US. he can barely take care of himself. and it's weird by now. to not have a pokemon by now. they were everywhere and so normalized.
they were part of everyday school curriculum and even in hospitals and rescue stations. which is another reason why he never stayed in one place very long because not having a pokemon didn't incite people to trust you.
bc even team rocket (team rocket still sounds so much better than team galra but team rocket is the galra) had pokemon that bonded and trusted them.
he gets a room and some horrible job on the coast and basically just gets by. tries not to cause trouble or get caught or encourage rattatas or a caterpie to follow him home because they could still smell half the lunch he didn't eat tucked in his bag
- i'm plotting by the seat of my pants but what really kick-started all of this was the thought of Keith finding a wounded cubone in the middle of the night.
it's too dark and raining to tell what animal or pokemon attacked it or if it was a person that fractured the skull he wore enough for a piece to break off along the jaw
the cubone sustained a mean looking scrape to its face and this is not what keith needs right now but he can tell the cubone's crying and kind of just accepted what's happened and it keeps pawing at the missing piece in the skull and keith may not actively interact with pokemon but he doesn't hate them and he still has a heart.
he's docked in cuba and his spanish just gets him by to get food and money and not anger anyone
he didn't think the barge's docking region through all of the way so he's got a cubone to help with rudimentary spanish that sucks on the best day but he's going to try and get the cubone help
he starts rushing through streets and people's yards because he could have swore the town had a gym he passed but in the dark and rain it takes him a full hour to find the gym.
- duh it's closed but he's at least going to bang on the doors and hopefully it's going to set off an alarm or something
the police will show up or someone will be able to take the cubone where it needs to go. his hand is numb from knocking as hard as he could before the door is whooshed open and someone is spitting rapid fire spanish like venom and he thinks he manages to get out that he can really only speak english and shoves the cunbone into their hands.
before he knows it, he's being yanked by his collar into the gym and down hallways and finally into the blinding lights of the pokemon center on sight.
there's more spanish and faces that look so similar that its clear it's a family that runs the gym.
- beep beep guess who's family owns and runs the gym
the pokecenter is actually a rehabilitation center founded and run by the McClain family for several generations
he gets questioned after the cubone is taken back behind the doors and it takes someone repeatedly snapping their fingers in front of his face to get him to come back to the conversation.
his name's keith, he's from the US, he just found the cubone - no he doesn't know if it has an owner, doesn't even know if it’s wild or if it has a nearby pack or how it got hurt or how long it’s been hurt.
but keith,
keith is his name and he can at least answer that.
he stays there over night and finds out that Marco is the one that answered the door. Veronica is the one to actually examine him because he looks like he's about to pass out.
their mother is the one to assure him the cubone would be fine - her daughter Rachel attends to injured pokemon and gets another son Luis to show Keith to a room in their house and keith passes out the second he stumbles to a bed.
- in the morning, when he goes to the bathroom and is in the middle of washing his hands, another son is banging on the door for Marco to get out of the bathroom and that's the first time he meets lance
when Keith yanks the door open he tells him to freaking stop because he's clearly not marco.
an older man, probably come to break up a fight, stops and blinks at keith before shouting over his shoulder about not remembering having or getting another kid (arthur "and who are you???" weasley style)
(our boy Lance has a minor panic about the cute random guy is his bathroom at 8 a.m.)
Keith gets shoved down at a table covered in food for breakfast and can't keep up he definitely has a headache and is ready to throw himself through a window when he's asked about his pokemon and if they need help too
he doesn't have pokeman and never has had one and isn't really interested and this family has centered their entire lives around it
- he sees the cubone again, in recovery and it paws a little at his hands in thanks
over the next few days, he stays with them and somehow gets roped into doing chores around the facility and given an assigned seat at their table for meals and he's just T H R O W N
they literally have an arbok taking a nap in a hammock in their backyard and a pod of seadras in an olympic pool in the gym just hanging out (doing little races between each other or chasing each other)
a vulpix he learns belongs to one of the McClain siblings (Rachel) sunbathes and sniffs at his feet while he’s working in the yard
and there's a persian destroying blinds in the living room window and a charizard in the kitchen
and some random small children he learns are marco's are throwing or shooting across the floor fridge magnets as a game with a magnemite
- begrudgingly on McClain’s part, keith’s assigned to Lance for being shown around the rehab center
lance takes him to the beach and out into the middle of the ocean on a boat
Keith: "this is where you feed me to a gryados"
Lance: "close"
and a freaking L A P RA S pops up out of the water and clicks at lance and makes little waves in his direction and they do a damn forehead touch he's crazy this is crazy
Keith: "YOU HAVE A LAPRAS???!!!!" - because even keith who doesn’t do pokemon knows what the heck a lapras is
Lance "I don't have a lapras. Nobody owns her. We just give her her room and protect or heal her when she needs it"
- the next few weeks see lance having to admit keith isn’t so bad and that just because he doesn’t have a pokemon, it doesn’t mean he actively dislikes them
the cubone is attached to keith - despite his bad attitude, lance says
this is the initial thought that kicked this off: keith asks if they have a 3D printer and once the cubone's injury is fully healed, he makes a mold for the missing piece and fits it in place
lance denies crying
"you've done one (1) good thing, kogane"
- then the real plot kicks in when the lapras is captured and taken from the beach by team rocket
lance blames keith because of the timing, because of keith's vague answers on where he's from, why he has no friends or family, no pokemon
insert painful, raw, yelled, "I TRUSTED YOU"
keith convinces him he's not part of team rocket and the main story starts where lance and keith leave to go after the lapras and return her to cuba.
- before they leave, rachel throws a pokeball at keith "i think your cubone might like this one"
and lance's eyes get huge because he knows what it is and then a pokemon is coming out of the pokeball
and it's a marowak
the cubone very carefully and slowly approaches her and the marowak just watches and waits. the cubone brushes its bone across the marowak's foot and then approaches and okay keith's eyes definitely water as he watches this marowak kind of take in the cubone.
(THE CRITICAL HIT COMES WHEN THE CUBONE EVENTUALLY EVOLVES. I like to think maybe through poke-magic the skull fixes itself when he evolves and the cubone hands the 3d mold back to keith and gets keith to put it on a chain safe for his skin to wear the 3d mold piece still)
- obv they get the lapras back,
they find out keith's mom was a double agent ofc for the team rocket faction that took the lapras
they meet hunk and pidge and allura and coran and romelle and others along the way to take down team rocket because what’s a pokemon au without the power of friendship
- keith and lance wait at the airport in cuba
it's for shiro, he had let keith travel because he saw that keith needed to find room to grow and find who he was
obviously keith is not 10. he and lance are 17.
anyways he rushes keith and pulls him into a big hug and tells keith how proud of him he is
the first thing lance tells shiro is about the time keith almost stepped on an exeggcute and how they chased him
or the time he almost sustained a skull fracture from a taurus and the time a seel thought keith was its mom
there was also that time with a magby-
keith: “OKAY LANCE WE GET IT THANK YOU”
BONUS:
keith being mildly terrified of the pokemon hanging around the McClain properties
Lance: "if you want to lay in the hammock just move him"
Keith: "just move him?! it's an arbok not a lap dog"
a nest of torchicks gets laid in the backyard and follows keith for two days after they hatch and lance laughs so hard he cries because keith can't shake them and he winds up tripping and they all jump on top of him
keith might not have been a pokemon person
but pokemon are definitely a keith person
8 notes · View notes
shuwuwua · 5 years ago
Text
farmboy!joshua
in which your first time in the rural countryside–crap internet, 20 minute drives to the nearest grocery store, random deer in the roads, and all–is not bad. not bad at all. (aka joshua and animals and being very soft) [fluff]
word count: 3k
disclaimer: not all rural areas are the same. you can get high speed internet. (just not in my personal experience lmao)
you were born, raised, and spent most of your livelihood in the same city
a proper skyscraper sort of city, not a “it’s bigger than a town so i guess we have to call it a city but the tallest building here is still only 4 stories high” city
your family wasn’t really one for vacations but this summer your parents decided to switch it up and spend a few weeks with your relatives who live in the countryside
and although you’ve been skeptical as to what’s possibly worth spending that long in the boonies, you figure it’s been a while since you saw those relatives and don’t say much against it
you’ve tried unsuccessfully for the past few days to avoid nature by browsing YouTube, but it’s proving difficult with your relatives’ lack of surfable internet
they finally suggest you go to the petting zoo
and you snort a little at first bc it’s not your ideal pastime but you suppose that’s what you gotta work with now in the boonies
so you drive to the nearby petting zoo. you exit your car.
and your hit with the Smell™ (of dried grass and poop, to clarify)
and you’re like. oh yeah. i’m definitely in the countryside.
you proceed.
as you walk up the path to the main buildings, you see some of the larger animals around you. horses. cows. the pigs are outside feeding at this hour. you’re kind of in awe because you’ve never seen a Live Cow and,,, they’re kinda cool how they’re so chill and they look sorta Smooth like they’d be really pettable and you wonder if you’d be able to milk one or smthn
but you’re getting a little ahead of yourself.
you open the barn door. and are immediately hit with more Smell™
you wonder if it’ll attach to your clothes. you figure you will deal with it later.
there is something else to deal with at the moment.
“wait, no–lucky! come back!” someone yelps as they rush around in front of you, chasing what seems to be a ball of fur that moves at the speed of light
or a puppy. same thing, really. 
that someone takes a giant leap of faith, only to just barely miss the pup and end up face first on the floor, which you can’t imagine being the most sanitary of surfaces
you look away in search of the flurry of fur. you can’t see it, but you can definitely hear it. unfortunately, it doesn’t sound like it has a collar, so you prepare yourself to scoop it up completely rather than grabbing its collar. as expected, it runs into your direction and you launch at it...
success!
lucky squirms in your grasp, barking and sniffing at your shirt. they must decide that you’re an agreeable human, because they start trying to lick your face
“wow, you caught him!” you look up at seemingly the body from earlier
and like,, not to exaggerate but is this what looking at an angel is like?
the boy you’re looking at looks back with such bright eyes and with a gaze full of affection, although after a second you realize the affection is probably for the dog. he has the best smile you’ve seen in a good while, because people you pass by in the city don’t smile that much. he just radiates Warm and Good and is probably great for business, because he’s just as cute as the puppy who is still going at your chin
“i… yeah, guess i did. uh, you kind of have straw all over you” is what you settle on saying to him, because out of all the things you noticed about him, your brain decides that the straw and dirt still sticking to his cheek and various parts of his shirt were the most acceptable features to point out. while they weren’t the more flattering options, they probably saved you from the complete AWKWARDNESS that would have come from mentioning his eyes or beaming smile or really anything else bc the straw and dirt were the only flaws.
“oh!” he exclaims, straightening up and brushing off his shirt
“… here too,” you say, grasping lucky in one arm as you move your other hand to your cheek
of course, he wipes at the wrong side.
“the other side”
“right. ok. am i good? sorry, that’s not a great first impression.” 
he still has a smear, but you decide it’s probably not going to budge and he’ll figure it out later. and he has no clue what a great first impression it was. clearly. “no, it’s fine.” 
he continues to smile at you and you’re still crouched, clutching lucky. lucky then decides to yelp because he’s tired of the severe lack of attention, which snaps you back to the situation. 
“oh, right.” you stand and give lucky back. 
“here he is!”
once lucky is back in the boy’s arms, he immediately starts to lick at his jaw. the boy sighs and pulls a treat out of the pocket of his apron, waving it around lucky’s face. “what are we going to do with you?” 
he turns back to you. “sorry about that, lucky is a very excited young pupper, as you just saw. the most problematic of all his siblings. anyway, i’m joshua! welcome to nabiya petting zoo. is it your first time here?”
you nod. “er. it’s actually my first time in this area, or in this part of the country, really. i’m from a pretty big city.”
“oh! well, a bigger welcome, then. i hope you enjoy your stay.” 
he rubs lucky between his ears. “isn’t it nice to get away from the busy urban life sometimes? i’ve always thought it’s really relaxing around here.”
“yeah, it seems… nice so far,” you say loosely, reflecting on how you haven’t really seen enough to come to that conclusion
he still has that warm smile. “i’m going to put lucky in his pen. hm… you’re the only one who’s come in so far today, so i could show you around if you want?”
“yeah, sure! i haven’t seen a lot of these before,” you reply, going down the list of animals at the side on the wall.
“ok, i’ll be right back!”
when he comes back y’all walk around n look at things and he asks you if you want to hold or feed some animals and you take everything pretty well, more than even you expect
you look at the normal domestic sort of animals like a litter of kittens, and the pen with lucky and his other pupper brothers and sisters
typical farm animals like pigs and sheep
sheep are not as fluffy as you imagine, they’re actually kind of gross looking if they haven’t had a bath recently
nonetheless you find them kind of cute, and you even pet one of the rams, aptly named… sam the ram
something tells you joshua was responsible for the name
you guys go out to the field and observe some turkeys strutting around
“huh so that’s the thing you see in clipart, the thing hanging off their faces”
“yeah it’s called a snood”
“LOL huH”
“only the dudes have snoods”
“um”
“during mating season, female turkeys pick male turkeys with longer snoods. you could say they’re in the snood for love.”
“please stop”
y’all spend a lot of time with the rabbits bc “bunnies are my favorite animal” says josh as he crouches next to a brown fluffball of a bunny, petting it
it’s just such a Good n Wholesome scene you can’t help but let slip “wow ur so cute”
he looks up, but his expression says he is otherwise unbothered
“sorry, what’d you say?”
“i SA ID the buNNY is sO cuTE” panics
“oh” joshua says. “alright” he turns back to the bunny, a tiny smile on his face
before you know it, 4 hours have passed and your stomach is letting you know dinnertime is approaching, so you bid josh farewell and wonder if you’ll ever see him again because that was a hecking nice 4 hours
you find yourself coming back again two days later lmao
today, joshua is putting out slop for the pigs. he grins at you. 
“hey again. what brings you back so soon?”
you find some excuse like “ykno i just bonded with sam the ram so well i had to come back, we’re bros now” and josh just laughs softly at you
“ok. you wanna look at some horses today?”
“whoa. o-okay.”
when he brings them out ngl you’re kinda intimidated bc like,, they’re some toL bois.
one time you saw a pony at the state fair but that was smol n cute and walked at a pace of 3 miles an hour
but these horses?? threatening. now you understand where the horse in horsepower comes from
“hey, don’t look so scared. they’re harmless!” the black stallion chooses that moment to snort and buck a little. 
you gulp.
“no, really.” he pets the stallion. “snuffles has never hurt anyone.”
you blink
“,,, snuffles ??”
joshua gives you a hard stare. “7 year old me thought that was an appropriate name and today years old me still thinks it’s fine”
you raise your hands to say “ok man ur turf ur way”
joshua clears his throat dramatically and turns back to ,, snuffles. “so aNyway, i brought snuffles out because i think he’s the best for a beginner to ride, and i’m assuming you’ve never ridden a horse before.”
“yeah i haven’t… wait did you say we’re gonna riDE them??”
“yeah, we don’t usually let people do that but i feel like you need the whole farm experience so you can go home and tell your friends the country isn’t just yeehaw and old town”
“but like… isn’t this just proving the point of old town? you literally have the horses in the back.”
“however, my hat is not matte black. i don’t even have a cowboy hat. or Wrangler. or anything else the song mentions. just the horses.”
“ok joshua if it makes u happy i will take snuffles to the old town road”
he gives u a big :D
he instructs you on how to mount the horse and stands behind you in case you start falling but thankfully you don’t so we don’t have to go over any kind of cliche
~ gripping of the waist for balance ~
or
~ catching you in his arms ~
scenes
: ))
“hey, good job! give snuffles some pats or something.” you reach a hand out to stroke the side of snuffles’s face. he whinnies a bit. Well frick, you think, that was kind of cute.
joshua decides he’ll walk some laps around with you before letting you actually ride snuffles by yourself. after you seem to be comfortable, you guys walk/trot around some and that’s how the rest of that afternoon goes :)
picture this with me
the sun is low in the sky
and y’all and your horses are just looking out over the hill
skin lookin immaculate bc it’s the golden hour
a massive grin you don’t even realize you have on your face.
and then you gotta go home, as your stomach reminds you again.
over your stay at your relatives’ place, you visit the petting zoo more times
you and josh become pretty comfortable with each other
he always has a lot of time to spend with you bc people don’t come that much this early in the summer, and in general they don’t get a huge amount of traffic but that’s okay financially bc the petting zoo is just a side thing, it’s mainly his family’s farm
and so you learn more things about him and his family from your times together, you guys sometimes sit around with some lemonade and hold some bunnies. lucky has also taken a liking to you, so you hold him a lot.
joshua tells you about his parents having always wanted to live peaceful and healthy lives, eating their own produce, moved to the area before he was born and it just expanded into the farm.
so although no one lives on the farm, they live pretty close by and he spent most of his childhood around all the animals.
you wonder if he was born with the soft, patient, and gentle nature needed to care for all the animals or if the animals shaped him to be that way.
but on top of that, he really loves spending time with them. even though he’s there basically every day, he never seems tired of his job.
“but what about you though? i’ve never really been that far from here, so i wonder what a big city is like.”
you trade your chaotic urban stories for his peaceful rural ones, and he trades his farm accident horrors for your memories of solidarity in the city.
you tell him about all the great food, countless different flavors of restaurants and a bubble tea chain every few blocks
you tell him about the convenience, the variety of transportation and the proximity of things, like basic groceries
the crowded sidewalks, the crowded metro, the crowded shops
the neon signs that light up the night, the period of quiet and calm somewhere around 3 in the morning, when you can open the window and hear the city nightlife in its most muted yet most raw state.
not only has time in the countryside made you appreciate it more, but also your home life more.
while you’re still wrapped in your memories, joshua smiles softly at you from the side. lemonade long forgotten, ice long melted. “that sounds really nice. your stories make me want to visit you in your hometown some time.”
huh. he could’ve just said visit the city, but he said visit you in your hometown. joshua has such a way with making the conversation personal.
you process what he said again and think about what it’d be like if he came. you could take him to all those places you raved about… it’d be like…
,,, a bunch of dates really. your brain frazzles a bit at the thought.
“… yeah! … that’d be pretty cool.”
and that’s how your afternoons pass these days. lemonade at the side, bunnies in hand, breeze passing through hair.
eventually josh asks you if you want to hang out like… nOT at the petting zoo
and you’re like whoa ok what’s your idea
and he’s like “can you meet me at watchtower hill tomorrow at 8pm?” 
he thinks about what he just said and quickly follows with “i know that’s kind of a really late time, but i promise i have no nefarious intent! oh, shoot that makes it seem like i do. i really don’t i promise! i just wanted to show you what the sunset and night sky are like in the countryside. oh, i just spoiled it…” he flashes you an awkward smile and some finger guns. “yep, that’s what we’re doing! no nefarious activities.”
you grin at him. “calm down dude, i didn’t think like that in the first place. i’m usually out even later at home anyway.”
he rubs the back of his head and laughs it off with you.
you do meet the next day at 8pm. he brings some midnight snacks that his mom made. except they’re not really midnight snacks, because you’re not trying to stay out there until midnight (spoiler: you do, because y’all yak a lot)
you guys sit on your jackets, watching the sunset. it’s the kind of temperature that’s says it was mad hot during the day, but now that the sun is going down, it’s cooled into a pleasant room temperature with an occasional warm breeze. 
for once you all don’t say much, because it’s nice to just share the moment. 
you reflect on how you’ve come to experience the area recently. most of it was the petting zoo, but sometimes you’d take up some of joshua’s suggestions about the area and report back to him how the experience was later on. 
looking out at the sun that bleeds out into the blueish black night, you think that it’s been a pretty good time here, and maybe it does have an edge on city life.
as the last of warm colors finally seep out of the sky, the moon takes over the night and the stars become more apparent than you’ve ever seen before.
seriously, it’s a scene out of a movie. you know, the wide screen shot of the protagonists staring at the sky, mystified. the panorama over the constellations that twinkle down at you, a little gift from the galaxy.
“i’ve never seen the sky like this. all the twinkling lights in the city come from the streets, and the buildings. which are pretty in their own way, i think. but Mother Nature… is really something else,” you say.
“yeah,” he says, looking at you as you’re still in awe at the sky. “something else.”
a few more moments pass, but it’s a timeless night as the sky is frozen in space.
joshua lays back on his jacket.
“hey,, maybe this is sort of crazy but.”
you turn to him, raising a brow.
“it’s been really, uh.. it’s been. really awesome getting to know you. i’ve just kind of… seen the same sorts of things all my life. the same sorts of people. i mean! of course, everyone is unique in their own way but! you know.” he takes a glance at you. “rural folks, urban folks. there’s a difference. so I’ve really enjoyed talking with you. uh, i mean i enjoy talking to you regardless of if you’re from the city or not!”
he puts a palm to his face and sighs. from behind his hand, he says, “i just like you.”
“i like you too, joshua! you’re a really great guy.”
“no, not like that. i mean. i like you.” he finally removes his hand.
you blink a little. and finally burst into a grin. “yeah. i like you too. you’re a really great guy.”
it’s his turn to blink
you lie back as well. he slowly starts to smile next to you
the stars above shine on.
yeah. this is a life you could get used to, too.
a/n: i stole the snood puns from a website i was reading sry website. hope you guys enjoyed and i had a lot of fun writing joshua this way (he’s all squishy, not exactly canon i would say lol)
31 notes · View notes
frighthouseofalighthouse · 5 years ago
Note
All weird asks!! They're so good!
Sorry this is a bit late, babe! I wanted to wait til I had the opportunity to answer all these uninterrupted!
1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?
Coffee mugs! tbh I drink tea out of coffee mugs because who actually uses teacups? I mean my grandma has tons and I would use them, but the handles are so tiny and I am v clumsy so it scares me.
2. chocolate bars or lollipops?
Chocolate bars!!! I’m too impatient for lollipops and plus they always get coated in saliva which just...drips down my chin since my mouth is already full.
3. bubblegum or cotton candy?
Bubblegum! I love cotton candy but I can only handle a bit at a time tbh. Also I haven’t had bubblegum in almost two years bc of braces and I miss it so much I can’t wait to have it again.
4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?
Okay, so even though I’ve always been homeschooled, when I was in elementary school we did this program with a ton of other homeschoolers where you could take actual classes and stuff. My teachers always said I was quiet and focused and studious, and you could always count on me to be lecturing everyone else on the instructions if they hadn’t been paying attention. (does any of that surprise anyone?)
5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? GLASS SODA BOTTLES. nothing beats soda that’s been bottled in glass rather than plastic. You ever had orange cream soda from a glass bottle????? SLAPS ASS MY DUDE.
6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?
Pastel/boho/preppy/goth, my dude. I have so many sides to my fashion and aesthetic.
7. earbuds or headphones?
EARBUDS BC HEADPHONES NEVER FIT OVER MY EARS RIGHT. BUT EARBUDS WITH SOFT TIPS BECAUSE MY EARS ARE TOO SMALL FOR THE PLASTIC ONES.
8. movies or tv shows?
Tv shows tbh because even though I can binge 4 eps of 45 minutes each per night, they’ll hold my attention a lot more than a movie. It’s weird.
9. favorite smell in the summer?
Thunderstorms/petrichor, also natural bogs. PEAT BOG SMELL FUCKING SLAPS.
10. game you were best at in p.e.?
None. I liked trampoline time back when we took gymnastics, if that counts. I also liked jump roping and Irish step dancing.
11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?
Nothing lmao. I sleep til like noon and then I microwave something for lunch.
12. name of your favorite playlist?
My catchall playlist, Things I Love, my summer playlist, Summer Songs, my Gryffindor playlist, My Queen And Country playlist for writing, and my playlist for The Raven Cycle. (after I post this I’ll edit it and link them)
13. lanyard or key ring?
Keyring, a lanyard would like constantly detract from my outfit if that makes sense???
14. favorite non-chocolate candy?
Sour Patch Kids or Swedish Fish.
15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?
Between The Grapes Of Wrath, The Great Gatsby, The Handmaid’s Tale, and To Kill A Mockingbird!
16. most comfortable position to sit in?
Just fucking sprawled every which way.
17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?
My grey converse if it’s comfortable out, my silver flip flops if it’s hot, and my fur-lined black combat boots if it’s cold.
18. ideal weather?
65-70 degrees, partly sunny, breezy, not humid.
19. sleeping position?
I need to sprawl to fall asleep, but once I’m asleep I curl up into a little ball.
20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?
Laptop and notebook ONLY IF I’m sure of myself, which isn’t often. But I do write dense, scribbled paragraphs on sermon note pages if something comes to me during church lmao.
21. obsession from childhood?
The American Revolution, weather, astronomy, and mysteries/ghost stories.
22. role model?
Idk tbh? Lately I’m just trying to define and live up to my own standards?
23. strange habits?
Pulling the collar of my shirt up to my mouth and sucking on it. Also being a perfectionist in my writing. I don’t do messy drafts. It’s all perfect by the time I write it, and I edit/spellcheck as I go.
24. favorite crystal?
Amethyst (my birthstone), bismuth, opal, and blue goldstone.
25. first song you remember hearing?
Other than nursery rhymes/kid’s songs, it was Light Up The Sky by The Afters, or California Dreamin’ by The Mamas And The Papas.
26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?
Find shade/a cool spot and read with a cold drink.
27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?
ALSO READ. And snuggle with thick socks and a cup of tea and play DS games all day.
28. five songs to describe you?
My five faves atm -
I Am Here // Pink
The Pines // Roses and Revolutions
Soldier, Poet, King // The Oh Hellos
Traveler’s Song // Aviators
Hymn // Kesha
29. best way to bond with you?
Share my interests about politics, history, books, true crime, paranormal, tv shows, and also be kind and understanding when I don’t text for long periods bc I don’t feel up to talking.
30. places that you find sacred?
The woods on the hill behind my house. Dense, deeply green, secluded woods. Hedge mazes. Old and crumbling castles. Anywhere beneath a clear sky and a full moon. Your heart when you’ve come to terms with your fears and made peace with yourself. Anyplace with historical significance. Bookstores on an autumn/winter day. Libraries.
31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?
A kickass plaid, bruh. Also my leather jacket - once I lose enough shoulder weight to fit in it again.
32. top five favorite vines?
Fre shavoc ado, the one where the dog eats the butterfly, the Lin-Manuel Miranda one where he’s brainstorming, “what the FUCK kind of weather is this, and the dad and son with the saxophone and the oven door.
33. most used phrase in your phone?
“oh mood”
34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?
“WOW! It’s NatureStone!”
35. average time you fall asleep?
Right now it’s 4-5 am because I suck.
36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?
I Can Haz Cheezburger, My mom used to look at the website with me when I was like 10.
37. suitcase or duffel bag?
They both have pros and cons. :/ Duffel bags are easier to carry but suitcases keep stuff from getting broken better.
38. lemonade or tea?
TEAAAAAAAAAAAA
39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?
Lemon meringue pie!!! my stepdad made a really good one the other week.
40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?
Nothing, since I was homeschooled. Same weird shit that always happens at home. Our safe word for when I got overwhelmed in math was “quokka” and we’d stop and look at cute quokka pictures.
41. last person you texted?
My gf :)
42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?
Jacket pockets because things are not only hard to fit in girls’ pants pockets, but if you put a chapstick/lipstick in there it starts to melt :(
43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?
BETWEEN HOODIE AND CARDIGAN. SO VERSATILE. SO COMFY.
44. favorite scent for soap?
Irish Spring soap or the blue Dial bars smells better and cleaner than anything to me.
45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?
Fantasy. It can take me a bit to get into it, but once I do, I love it. I only do sci-fi if it has rebellion and isn’t heavy on the sci. And superhero movies are great but a lot of the tropes are meh. Fantasy has a lot more versatility if you ask me.
46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?
Sweatpants/leggings and a soft, well worn tee.
47. favorite type of cheese?
Parmesan, white cheddar, or Muenster.
48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?
Raspberry!
49. what saying or quote do you live by?
“do no harm but take no shit.”
50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?
A really poorly edited political ad on tv a couple years ago. There was weird jazz playing, flames in the background of an image of the Capitol Building, and then the top of the dome opened and this guy’s face was inside. It is the single funniest ad I have ever seen and I laughed for 10 minutes so hard I was like an inch away from passing out.
51. current stresses?
Passing my driving test next month, getting a job, figuring out if my math skills are okay enough to take the SAT or an equivalent test.
52. favorite font?
Baskerville or Georgia!
53. what is the current state of your hands?
My fingernails are short bc I picked them while reading earlier, my cuticles suck bc I pick at those two, and my pinky is obliterated and scabbed because of when I accidentally sliced through the nail with a razor while shaving the other day. So, not great, but I’m living.
54. what did you learn from your first job?
That kids can be really annoying but also really cute and hilarious if you can get them to calm down. And also that baby fingernails are surprisingly sharp.
55. favorite fairy tale?
The OG Princess and the Frog where it’s implied the prince and “faithful Henry,’ his carriage driver, fall in love and ride off together at the end. JACOB AND WILHELM GRIMM SAID GAY RIGHTS.
56. favorite tradition?
Every December, my mom and I drive around after dark at night and I play Pokemon and we rate everyone’s Christmas decorations based on tackiness.
57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?
So isolated I was as a preteen/early teenager, my self harm, and the internalized anger over my abusive relationship and PTSD.
58. four talents you’re proud of having?
Writing, puzzle solving, singing, and calligraphy.
59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?
“Benvoli-no.” (I recently remembered I used to say that a lot and I need to bring it back)
60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?
Dark, fairy tale anime with a lot of secrets to uncover and some dark woods.
61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?
TV show - “I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself.” - Doctor Who
Movie - “It’s not about deserve. It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love.” - Wonder Woman
Book - “If you never saw the stars, candles were enough.” - The Dream Thieves, by Maggie Stiefvater
62. seven characters you relate to?
Dean Winchester - Supernatural
Sam Winchester - Supernatural
Jack Kline Winchester - Supernatural
Charlie Bradbury - Supernatural
Gansey - The Raven Cycle
Blue Sargent - The Raven Cycle
Hermione Granger - Harry Potter
63. five songs that would play in your club?
Final Song // MO
Call Home // Heathers
I Am Here // Pink
Babylon // 5 Seconds of Summer
Shake It Off // Taylor Swift
64. favorite website from your childhood?
WEBKINZ AND THE OLD AMERICAN GIRL WEBSITE
65. any permanent scars?
Yes, I have several that remain from self harm, scars all over my left knee from being a clumsy child, and most of all a major scar down the center of my chest from heart surgery when I was a baby.
66. favorite flower(s)?
Rose, lavender, lilac, and dahlia.
67. good luck charms?
Not really???
68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?
Olives, mushrooms, radishes, cottage cheese, and ranch dressing are all foul.
69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?
Martin Luther didn’t actually nail his 95 theses to the church door, he just kind of passed them around, which is a lot less dramatic tbh. Also light-up signs were first used in New York City in 1884.
70. left or right handed?
I’m left-handed!
71. least favorite pattern?
I think zebra stripes, leopard print, and houndstooth are super ugly.
72. worst subject?
Math for sure. Even science would be easier if it didn’t involve so much math.
73. favorite weird flavor combo?
Wendy’s fries and chocolate frosty!!!
74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?
I think a 7, usually. My pain tolerance is pretty high because of a) years of self harm, and b) due to my PTSD my muscles are constantly tense and in pain anyway.
75. when did you lose your first tooth?
I was 4, and it had been loose but it fell out when I was trying to blow up an inflatable ball.
76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?
Fries or roasted potatoes that are charred and crunchy on the bottom. Chips are a close third.
77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?
Idk, my grandma’s the one with the green thumb mania lmao. But She keeps a lot of violets and arrowhead plants in the windowsills!
78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?
NEITHER I HATE BOTH COFFEE AND SUSHI IN ALL CIRCUMSTANCES.
79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?
Never had a school ID, but my temporary license photo is actually pretty good right now!
80. earth tones or jewel tones?
I really like earth tones for myself.
81. fireflies or lightning bugs?
THEY ARE THE SAME MF THING. Also I call them both, it just depends on what comes out of my mouth haha.
82. pc or console?
PC, I guess, though I don’t really game. I just watch my stepdad game.
83. writing or drawing?
WRITING. I cannot draw to save my life.
84. podcasts or talk radio?
Podcasts, talk radio is so annoying.
84. barbie or polly pocket?
Barbie, although I loved both.
85. fairy tales or mythology?
Mythology I guess??? Although again, I love both.
86. cookies or cupcakes?
COOKIESSSSS
87. your greatest fear?
Rejection, losing people I love, people secretly hating me. Also drowning, spiders, clowns, and guns.
88. your greatest wish?
To be a semi-successful author and work in a library/museum.
89. who would you put before everyone else?
My mom and my gf.
90. luckiest mistake?
Almost dropping a knife blade first on my foot but it landed between my toes.
91. boxes or bags?
um boxes I guess? I’m really good at fitting things in tetris style.
92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?
FAIRY LIGHTS AND DIM YELLOW LAMPS.
93. nicknames?
Ell, Alexander, Ellie, Little Lion, and Nerd.
94. favorite season?
FALL FALL FALL FALL
95. favorite app on your phone?
Tumblr or Spotify. Two apps I couldn’t live without.
96. desktop background?
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97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?
About a half dozen. Mine, my mom’s, my stepdad’s, my grandparents’ home number, my grandpa’s, and my grandma’s.
98. favorite historical era?
Both the American Revolutionary period and the Victorian Era (esp in Britain)
THANK YOU LOVE THIS WAS SUPER FUN
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awildhanmonster · 6 years ago
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Character Ramblings for Wyrd!
At Wyrd’s behest, I’m trying to write down a little master post of some recent characters she bullied— I mean enabled— me to create.  This is for our casual Loserverse world— i.e. the fast-and-loose All The Myths Are True low fantasy trope where a bunch of well intentioned idiots try to get by in an apartment complex for largely mythical creatures.  I’ve accidentally made up a lot of new side characters in the past month and it’s getting hard to keep track of them, so here we go!
THE HOMESTEADING SHAPESHIFTER TRIO: AKA NELL, LEONORA AND BARNES
I’m listing these three together on their own because they are an active “couple” (… trio? I’m not sure what the right polyamory term is) who all live together in a more rural part of the county on some acreage generationally owned and tended by Nora’s family line.  Their personal plot is pretty manageable (just a few acres) and a small portion of the entire property.  They have a little flock of maybe 2 dozen combined sheep and goats, some chickens, and possibly an alpaca.  The land is woodsy and picturesque with an old country house they share.  
Nell J. Harriet, aka Nell: approximately 32 years old, born intersex, happily nonbinary (pronouns are ‘they’).  The tallest of the bunch at around 6’ even, with a pale wiry frame and knobby, angular corners all over.  Jet black hair with a striking chunk of white smack dab at the front of the widow’s peak like the trail of a dog’s blaze, one solid brown eye, one split tweaky blue/brown mess.  Shifted form is a black and white border collie with (surprise!) heterochromia and a chunky white blaze cutting through the forehead right at the widow’s peak.  
Despite being born to a mother with a long family history of (gene-recessive) shifters cropping up every generation, Nell was still a surprise to everyone involved, given that their father had presumably been human.  Their mother— who I’ll call Meryl for now— comes from a fairly mundane lineage of canine shifter (while being a non-shifter Rr carrier herself) which typically manifests in early childhood and has a certain period of semi-conscious malleability during the formative years in which things like coat color, length, ear set, and other minor (external) features can be changed through great effort and trial/error before eventually “settling” into a constant, unique physical identity with time.  They heal several times faster than average humans, scar less, and tend to show greater physical resilience, taking a few seconds to painlessly and more-or-less fluidly change shape, but lack any kind of “burst healing” mechanic or unusual magical attributes.
Everyone else in the family before Nell had turned out some kind of pleasantly functional “mutt” shape in the end, but Nell erupted onto the scene as a full blown black-and-white border collie looking thing from day 1 of the change as a bouncy toddler.  Meryl could only guess that the father (long since vanished from their lives with no hard feelings, the affair was brief) was a similar, incidentally compatible shapeshifter himself, but that’s about as well as anyone can guess since he’s not around to ask.  
Nell, for their part, is exactly the kind of plucky, sunshiny, high-energy velcro person you would expect from a border collie on two legs.  They struggled in early childhood with some rough ADHD and OCD type tendencies, but managed to get through public schooling with the help of family support/tutoring, and wound up not pursuing college in favor of trying out a more rural living, instead.  They met Leonora while bouncing around odd jobs a couple years after high school and the rest is history.  They’re much happier now with a largely outdoor existence and animals to tend to, burning off the excess energy that plagued them for years without a direction prior to homesteading.  They’re one of those types who thrives with an outlet for physical and mental stimulation but loses their mind for lack of it.  As one would expect from any good BC.  The farming life is an ideal fit.  
Leonora Basso: aka Nora, but only if you’re close to her.  Approximately 34-ish, a shameless bohemian woman from a long line of shifters almost functionally identical to Raiker/Nicky’s species, with the exception of taking on the form of giant (thanks, conservation of mass) white maremma type guardian dogs instead of akbash.  Built square, stocky, and a little short (probably around 5’4’’), with olive/bronze-y skin, brown eyes, and a giant fluffy mess of fluffy, platinum white-blond hair the exact color and texture of maremma fur.  
She’s chill, with admirable patience for things that warrant it and a long fuse for small annoyances, though she’s also the only member of the three to ever knock someone’s teeth out, so take that with a grain of salt.  Like any good guardian dog, she’s placid until you start messing with her flock— literally or metaphorically.  Then she’ll be the one to quietly walk across the bar and slam your head into the table.  She met Nell during a trip to the inner city by complete happenstance when the two hit it off over conversation, during which she invited them to come visit her farm over a public touring weekend, and within weeks wound up dating.  Their relationship was exclusive up until Barnes came along  and none of them are quite sure how it happened, but they’ve never been in a better place.  
Chancellor Barneston Augustine-Kingslay, aka Barnes: and ONLY Barnes, okay.  Repeat his full name N E V E R or he’ll just, seriously, die.  Of embarrassment.  The youngest of the bunch at around 27-28 or so, Barnes was adopted by his (human) parents as a (human, presumably) infant, and had a perfectly normal (human, presumably) childhood until one day when his mother came in and found that her napping four year old was suddenly a napping 40 pound maine coon cat— or at least, what LOOKED a whole lot like one.  Needless to say, the following week was a scramble of buying every “Help!  My Child is a Shapeshifter, What Do I Do!” parenting book off Amazon and learning how to cope with a toddler who could suddenly vault over double stacked safety gates unaided, but they learned how to adapt, and life continued on happily for the little family anyway.  He’s an average sort, and arguably handsome to some: about 5’8’’, not especially pale or tan, hazel eyed, and sporting what looks like perpetually dark-ticked mouse brown hair, cut short.  He performed well enough in public school with a mostly human peer group who went largely unaware of his “talents” and even went on to earn a bachelor’s in business/finances/something akin, which seemed like the thing to do.  He wouldn’t describe himself as unhappy in his accomplishments; by every metric he was doing fine in life, and could easily figure out a career in some white collar job that paid his bills well enough.
He just couldn’t shake a certain feeling of restlessness and dissatisfaction about the idea, and wound up making a habit of weekend demos and classes to see what else was out there in the world: one of which happened to be a sheep shearing weekend out at the Basso Homestead.  On a whim, Barnes attended a demo headed by none other than Leonora while she was using a feisty ram (named Ramses) to walk visitors through the shearing process, Ramses was being fighty, Nell wasn’t around to help wrangle him, and Barnes, thinking he was capable, volunteered (despite Nora warning him repeatedly that rams were pretty feisty) to help hold him down.
… Needless to say he earned a spectacular nut shot via ram horns in the groin and wound up sitting out the rest of the day with an ice pack and a lot of sympathy, but it got him talking to Nora, and then Nell, and the three of them just gelled in a way that kept bringing them back together.  He’s realized in hindsight that he’s much happier in the suburbs than the big city, and enjoys putting his schooling to use by handling the home taxes and business numbers.  
(Fun fact: years later, when it Ramses got too big for his britches and was sent to the abattoir, they were given part of him by the Basso family and cooked a roast to celebrate the asshole sheep that brought them all together.  Ramses was delicious.)
Barnes, incidentally, still has no idea just WHAT kind of shifter he actually is thanks to being a doorstep baby/anonymous adoption acquisition by the foster folks— aside from a giant 100+ pound country cat, that is.  He’s observed that his shift is nearly as swift as Leonora’s, though there are queer persistences that he seems to have (pierced ears not healing instantly or trying to close after a change) that she lacks.  Coupled with the fact that he seems to be a magnet for comically mundane/irritating paranormal activity, he’s put in his research (mostly as a boredom hobby, not a necessary pursuit) but keeps drawing blanks on potential labels for his identity.  The TRUTH of the matter (which he’ll probably never know in canon) is that he’s actually a cait sith— born in the form of a cat, rather than a human, and bewitched by his mother to retain a human form as long as possible in the hopes that it would get him a better chance at finding loving parents.  His shifting has a much heavier magical component to it than his SOs, though he has no real sense for it, and it’ll probably just be a mystery the rest of his life.
Wow, yeah, this got super long!  I’ll make a separate post for the other losers I’ve made up lately, though these three are the most fleshed out so far.  
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lilhemmo · 7 years ago
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gunpowder & silk
Summary: Bucky learns his employees do not hold the same amount of faith in his abilities as they once did. He proves that he is still the man in charge, and it shows itself at Riley’s expense. 
Word Count: 987 Rated: T Prompt: i’m the tailor who always makes/hems your nice clothes but i don’t know that you’re a mobster so why are the police barging in here (we’ll get there soon i promise) A/N: i’m so glad i came back to this one... i’ve enjoyed it a lot!! it’s a darker side of writing and i’m not quite sure i did it justice, but i’m trying to keep this as language-clean as possible if i’m honest bc i want anyone to be able to read this story 
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“I have another meeting after this, Clint,” Bucky’s voice is exasperated as he shrugs down in his seat. The gun in his lap weighs heavy as he thinks of his bright-eyed tailor who will be waiting for him at exactly ten o’clock this morning. “Can we please speed this up?”
“I’ve heard some talk,” Clint leans in, coffee distinct on his breath, “and the guys out there are wondering where your heads at these days.”
Immediately Bucky’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowed as he stares down at his employee.
“Excuse me?” he asks, keeping his voice under control.
His metallic finger threatens to squeeze around the trigger.
“You know I’d never doubt you, boss,” Clint sighs, picking up his cup off of the table and tipping it against his lips. “I heard Vizzy talking to Wanda about it. I just figured you should know that there’s people talking.”
Bucky rolls his eyes, huffing between his teeth, “Vizzy is too breaths away from losing his manhood.”
“What appointment ya got, boss?” Clint asks as he makes his way to the door. He raises his brow, “That tailor girl? What’s her name?”
“Keep her name out of your filthy mouth, Clint.” Bucky sneers, standing up and placing the gun on the top of his table, “I don’t want her name smelling like coffee.”
xx
“He’s got a point, Buck.”
“I don’t care about his point,” Bucky responds, sitting up straighter in his leather seat. “What I want to point is my gun at his face.”
“I know, I know, but you’re different recently,” Rogers continues, looking at his boss from the rearview mirror. “Not in a bad way, really, but you’re not as focused.”
“I’m plenty focused, Steve,” Bucky snaps, grinding his teeth together. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.
Steve’s blond brow tips skyward, “I think you’re more focused on Sharon’s reports each night.”
“I just want to make sure that idiot Odinson doesn’t mess with Riley again,” Bucky defends himself, his voice rising an octave. He groans, “Steve, I’m not losing it. I’m not.”
“I know you’re not, boss,” Steve parks the car and turns to look his friend in the eye, “but you are changing. It’s not a bad thing, I don’t think. The guys just don’t know how to take it is all.”
“Should I stop coming here?” Bucky asks him, looking out the window at Riley’s store sign on the side of the road. “Is that the problem? I’m losing my touch.”
“I like Miss Riley,” Steve admits. He smiles at Bucky, “But I understand if you have to stop business with her.”
Bucky groans, rubbing his hands over his face, “In that case, Steve…”
The words he utters are laced with pain and Steve has half a mind to tell his friend to get out of the car, “Keep driving.”
xx
“It just isn’t like him to be this way,” Riley mutters, rubbing her fingertips over her forehead. She looks back up at the clock, “He’s over an hour late now.”
“Maybe he got sick,” Elise offers, tucking another lemon bar between her teeth. She sighs, watching as Riley’s forehead breaks out into a sweat, her pacing speeding up as the minutes tick by. “You’re being paranoid.”
“Rogers would have called if he was sick,” Riley mumbles. She tugs on her lower lip in nervousness, frustrated that he didn’t notify her that he wouldn’t be able to make their usual appointment.
“Did he seem off last week to you, Elise?” Riley asks her friend, beginning to sound like a madwoman.
Elise shakes her head, “No, he seemed normal. Flirtatious, as per usual.”
“He is not flirtatious,” she argues quietly, trying to put together all the pieces in her head. “I just don’t understand. Maybe he didn’t like the suit he picked up.”
“So he’s going to stand you up over it?” Elise asks incredulously, her brows raised and a smirk on her lips. “You’re never this worried about your other customers, Riley. I don’t understand why this one-”
“Because he’s different,” Riley snaps, her eyes wide and starting to become reddened. “That’s why.”
xx
“You think I’m losing it now, Viz?” Bucky’s voice is animalistic, the blood splattered on his cheeks unnoticed. His teeth clench as he rakes his metal palm against Vision’s face again, cutting open to the bone.
“I think I should lose it, if I’m honest,” Bucky growls, “I should lose it long enough to end you. Right here, right now. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about your mouth anymore.”
Vision sounds like he’s trying to beg for his life, but the noise is muffled by the cloth gag in his mouth. It’s dripping red, the blood soaking the once-white cloth, and Bucky doesn’t have the heart to feel bad for him.
His employee mutters his apologies with the small amount of oxygen he’s able to suck in through the blood gunking up his nostrils. Bucky raises a brow, “If I ever hear anything else out of your mouth about me losing it again, Vision, I won’t be so generous the next time.”
Bucky removes the gag and watches as apologies flow from Vision’s lips in excess, his knees scraping the floor as he grabs Bucky’s knees to beg for his forgiveness. He thanks his boss in unintelligable words, spitting through the blood clotting on his mouth.
“Let me tell you another thing,” Bucky snatches Vision by his collar, yanking him upward to whisper in his ear, “If I find out that you’ve been undermining me, I might let you go free, but I won’t feel the same remorse for Wanda.”
Vision sucks in a breath, sounding as if Bucky had just delivered the most fatal blow with only his lips as the delivery system. Bucky sneers, chuckling under his breath, “And I’ll let you be the one-man audience to watch her as she dies.”
I KNOW IT’S SHORT BUT I’M TRYING TO GET BACK INTO WRITING THIS STORY AND I THOUGHT IT WAS AN APPROPRIATE PLACE TO END THE CHAPTER!!
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gukyi · 7 years ago
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tripping over ourselves | jsw
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⇒ summary: jeong sewoon is your best friend. he also happens to be a vampire. you’re no expert with vampires, but there must be something about his immortality that keeps drawing you to him. no way is it just his cute personality on its own.
⇒ vampire!au, friends to lovers!au
⇒ pairing: jeong sewoon x reader
⇒ word count: 4k
⇒ warnings: blood mention (it’s a vampire au, i don’t know what else you were expecting)
⇒ a/n: happy birthday to the baddest bitch i know, @sihyun !!!! i love u so much and i wanted to do something special for ur birthday, so here this monstrosity is!!!!! i could make this authors note like 4k long if i wanted to bc i love u so much. on a side note, me writing for a pd101 boy is kind of a one time thing. soz.
There’s a lifeless, colorless bird on your windowsill, and it’s the first thing you notice when you step inside your shared apartment. The poor thing’s had the life drained right out of it; decaying, rotting scent wafting through the room. It almost looks peaceful, really, collapsed on its side like it just conked out after a very long flight, feathers fluttering softly in the breeze that runs through the flat.
Well, at least Sewoon had the decency to open the window to get the smell out.
Dead animals are a surprisingly common occurrence in whatever fucked-up household you live in, though you made the executive decision a while ago to restrict the animals that Sewoon treks in to just birds of flight. No penguins, tragically, and also no rodents. Dead birds are a little less gross than dead rats. You see enough of those already whenever you walk down the sidewalk of the city center.
You sigh, seeing this as only a minor inconvenience at best, and drop your backpack to your feet, letting it hit the wall beside it. Once that damn heavy thing is off of your shoulders, you make a beeline for his room, storming towards it and trying not to pay too much attention to the lifeless creature on the windowsill. The less you worry about it, the better. If you spent your entire life stressing over the fact that sometimes Sewoon has to kill birds to live, then you’d never get anything done.
“Sewoon?” You ask, a little peeved, not even bothering to knock on his closed door and instead just barging inside. “I thought we discussed—”
Sewoon looks up like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide as the light from the hallway illuminates a bit of his figure. His room is pitch black otherwise, every part of it hidden in the shadows, including himself. His eyes are a blazing shade of red, a stark signal that he’s just fed. In a little, they’ll fade back to a casual mahogany shade. Something a little less… obvious. There’s a thin trail of blood from his bottom lip to his chin, little drops falling onto his sheets.
“You’re kidding me,” you immediately say, crossing your arms over your chest as you take in the sight in front of you. “Don’t tell me you’ve been batting around in the dark while I was in class.”
“I have,” Sewoon says, grinning guiltily. “But not by much. I just haven’t fed in a while, I got a bit desperate. Didn’t want you to come home to see me freaking out in the living room, getting blood stains all over the furniture.”
You chuckle, stifling a much bigger laugh. “You do that even when I am home.”
“But I try to avoid it when you’re not, just so you don’t scream at me when you get back,” he insists, eyes pleading. God, they always fucking work on you. Vamps with soft hearts are a deadly combination. No pun intended.
“I’ll scream at you any time.”
“Like now?” He asks, wincing. He knows he’s in some minorly deep shit now.
“Like now,” you confirm, walking into his dark room and pulling him from his bed by his shirt collar, holding onto it tightly as you drag him outside. “I thought we discussed the dead bird shit, man,” you say, exasperated. “What the hell is this?”
“The dead bird shit.”
“Exactly. When did you even have the time to feed off of it?” You ask, pushing the boy backwards, making him stumble over his feet, dazed. You peer out the window, squinting at the moon behind the skyscrapers. “The sun barely set an hour ago.”
“I was really hungry,” Sewoon admits, and from the way his eyes are still ignited in red hot flames and the blood on his chin is still fresh, you know he’s telling the truth. “It’s been tough.”
“Don’t you work the night shift at the hospital?” You remind him. Typically, this type of incident isn’t an issue, just because Sewoon kind of has an endless supply of human blood whenever he goes in for his internship. It’s a win-win situation most of the time, really. Sewoon gets his blood and he doesn’t have to come in contact with the sun, which—while it will not kill him—will give him a particularly gnarly sunburn on the skin where exposed. Vamp perks. Or not, you suppose.
“They’ve given me more work this past week,” Sewoon sighs, collapsing onto the couch as you get a paper towel to shove the bird out of the window. Couldn’t he have just done this on his own? “I haven’t had the time to feed.”
“God, I hate it when you’re all responsible and productive. It makes me feel so awful,” you tell him, rolling your eyes as you move his feet off of the couch so you can sit next to him. “You’re literally going to live forever. You have all the time in the world to be productive and responsible. Me? I’m gonna die.”
“Not soon, I hope,” Sewoon says, sitting up and leaning on your shoulder. “Nobody else understands my vampire ways like you do.”
“I’ve had to deal with you my entire life. Vamp or not, you’re stuck with me.”
Sewoon rests his chin on your shoulder and grins your way, a tired, hazy smile, and he shows off his blood-stained fangs in the process. They are, admittedly, very cute for a vampire, endearing and surprisingly fitting for him. It’s like he was just made to be a vamp. You can’t help but send a smile his way, not when it’s late in the evening and time feels delicate and slow. You reach a hand up and wipe away the blood on his chin with your thumb, letting it stain your skin and leave his skin pale in return.
“I’d rather live the rest of my days alone than with someone that isn’t you,” Sewoon says, and the line that resides between platonic and romantic affection is practically moot at this point, a nonsense concept that shouldn’t try to separate relationships into black and white. Every interaction with him that you have is platonic, but it could also be romantic if you wanted it to be.
The question is: Do you want it to be romantic? Does he?
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Sewoon’s favorite season is winter. By a very long shot. It used to be summer, but that was before he turned, before he realized that he literally always has to walk around outside covered from head to toe, unless he was looking for some intense sunburn to go along with those awful shorts of his. Now, when the seasons change and he gets to bundle up under layers upon layers of sweaters and coats and scarves, he thrives.
You quite like the colder months too, but maybe that’s just because Sewoon always looks so adorable with that bright orange puffer jacket on over four different sweaters. Like the coziest, bright orange marshmallow in the world. He’s always had a particularly cold body, even when you two were children. Not even being turned into a vamp could change that.
“You look like you’d rather die than let your skin touch the sun,” you’re commenting as the two of you get ready to go out on the town. It’s shopping season (it’s always shopping season, really), and you’re also meeting up with one of his friends at a little winter music festival in the square.
“Isn’t that kind of the point of being a vamp?” Sewoon asks as he zips up that obnoxious orange coat of his. He fishes his only pair of gloves out from the pockets of the jacket, tugging them on before turning to attack his scarf. It takes you guys almost five minutes to get from saying that you’ll leave now to actually leaving. It’s always him.
You laugh. “Sun versus Sewoon, who will come out on top?” You declare in your best wrestling commentator voice.
Sewoon smiles to himself, little white fangs peering out from his closed mouth, meeting his soft pink bottom lip. “Sun, definitely. I’d be toast.”
“Ba dum tss,” you say, noting his probably-intentional pun and grabbing your bag and opening the door, the universal signal for hurry the fuck up, let’s go before it’s tomorrow already. Sewoon gets the message and speeds up the process of putting on his boots before scurrying to join you as you make your way down the hallway.
“Are you looking forward to this music thing?” He asks as you reach the lobby. “The one that Donghyun invited us to?”
You shrug, bracing yourself for the biting wind as you leave your complex. “I guess. I’m not looking forward to standing in the cold for God-knows how long.”
“You just gotta toughen up,” Sewoon says, reaching an arm around you and tugging you close into his side. “I’ll warm you up.”
“You’re a fucking vampire. You wouldn’t warm up even if you stood in flames,” you say, frowning.
“I tried to be hospitable and welcoming and romantic and you shoot me down, once again,” Sewoon says, shaking his head in disapproval. “Stop being so realistic all of the time. It ruins the mood.”
“That’s my job.”
“Ah, yes,” Sewoon nods, chuckling to himself heartily as the two of you make your way along the sidewalks to get to the town center, “Professional Mood Ruiner. Very prestigious title. You should put that on your resumé.”
“I’ll put it right next to Vampire Moral Support,” you joke, grinning his way and shivering from the cold. He tightens his hold on you, coat warming you up in place of the body heat that he no longer possesses.
“Yes, you do that.”
Donghyun is already there when you and Sewoon finally reach the festival stage, munching on some ridiculously unhealthy thing he probably got from a food truck nearby. He turns his head, mouth filled with food, and spots the two of you huddled together to shield yourselves from the cold as you walk over to him.
“How the hell are you wearing short sleeves?” You ask, brows furrowed. “It’s winter.”
“It’s not that cold, you guys are just weak,” Donghyun retorts, making Sewoon roll his eyes. Sometimes, when he does that, you get a little worried that those brown contacts are going to dislodge themselves and reveal the red underneath. “Look, I got us a really good spot near the front.”
“Whose smartass idea was it to have a winter music festival outside,” you mutter to yourself as you and Sewoon situate yourselves together next to Donghyun, who’s already distracted and paying little to no attention to you.
Even so, the crowd is sizeable and also getting very hype over the performing artists, Donghyun included. No wonder he’s wearing some goddamn short sleeves—the body heat he must be producing with all of that obnoxious jumping is probably warming him right up. Meanwhile, you and Sewoon are just casually standing together, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of the music. You probably look like the damn softest couple in the world, hardly even dancing to the upbeat song and all bundled up together, but neither of you are protesting. Sewoon’s always been quite comfy.
Sewoon turns to smile at you when the song changes, the shadow from his cap cast over his face as his fangs gleam in front of you. Vampires have never been so damn cute, or maybe Sewoon’s just an outlier. The one adorable vamp in the population of evil, rude ones. Of course, no wonder he’s ended up with you.
When the show ends, Donghyun rushes up to the two of you from where he was standing near the stage—you hadn’t even realized he had somehow moved—an alarming amount of sweat staining his shirt from all of the excitement. Only Donghyun would fucking somehow manage to start sweating while outside in the middle of a cold winter’s day. He looks absolutely spent, to put it gently, hair matted and panting like a dog.
“Wow, have you guys even moved?” Donghyun asks the two of you in shock. “It’s like you guys have roots growing into the ground, trapping you here.”
“I think we’re quite comfortable, don’t you?” Sewoon says confidently, wrapping his arms even tighter around your body as he grins towards you, nearly knocking into your forehead with that goddamn cap of his. You nod in response, though under this thick jacket, you’re not really sure if anyone noticed.
Donghyun puts a hand up to wave off Sewoon’s words. “Whatever. You guys can keep being soft here as the crowd leaves. I’m out. Catch you later?”
He doesn’t give either of you time to respond to his posed question and suggest another date  for meeting up, just bounces off as if the weather doesn’t affect him whatsoever, skipping away like a child.
“There’s that nice coffee shop nearby,” you remember, not wanting to go back to your apartment just yet. “Wanna go?”
Sewoon nods happily, releasing you from his embrace as the two of you head in the direction of your next destination. On the way, his fingers fiddle with yours, playing a little game in between your bodies until he eventually coaxes you into just holding his hand like normal people do.
Neither of you are really quite normal.
Stepping into the steamy little corner shop, your ears and nose heat up from the sudden change in temperature, making you shiver from the contrast. You know Sewoon experiences no such sensation, but you don’t really think he minds not having that human quality anymore. Not when your shivering is just another excuse for him to wrap his body around you like a fucking hot dog bun, or something. You eventually have to force him off of you—because with his overbearing body on top of all the heat from this coffee and your own outerwear, you feel like you’re about to melt into a pile of lava right on the hardwood floor—but he doesn’t leave you alone without a teasing little smile, one that is so terribly Sewoon of him.
“Black coffee with absolutely no flavor, how intense of you,” you comment as the two of you wander over to where you can pick up your drinks. In your best rugged, bearded lumberjack voice, you say, “Only real men waste five bucks on coffee that has no taste.”
“Oh, shut up, you know why I got it,” Sewoon says, nudging your side as he rolls your eyes, fake sick of your taunting. “Besides, it tastes better than whatever sugar-filled tea you got yourself.”
“Like you know what my very, very delicious peach green tea tastes like. With your taste buds, everything just tastes like blood, to you,” you retort.
“You got me there,” Sewoon says, pointing a finger gun your way as the barista hands you your drinks.
You migrate over to an empty couch, sitting with your legs pressed up against each others to warm up even further.
“Did you like today’s thing?” Sewoon asks, taking a sip of his coffee and not even flinching when the beverage (probably) burns his tongue. Oh, the life of a vamp.
“It was alright, I guess,” you reply. shrugging. You don’t have the invincible tongue that Sewoon does, so you refrain from drinking your tea for a little longer. “I probably would have enjoyed it more if it weren’t cold and if Donghyun weren’t so… Donghyun.”
Sewoon chuckles at your description of his friend. “That’s the most relatable thing I’ve ever heard.” Another sip. “I quite liked it, actually.”
“Really? You could hear the music under all these damn layers?”
Sewoon pouts, not appreciating your humor despite the fact that you’re absolutely hilarious. “Yes, and I enjoyed it. Makes me want to go home and experiment with my own guitar, see what I can come up with.”
“Oh, please don’t,” you say, brows downturned as you finally work up the courage to have a bit of your drink. Tastes perfect. “Your experimenting isn’t as welcome as you think it is.”
“I am a great singer, thank you,” Sewoon says, playfully affronted.
“Yeah, but you’re not necessarily a good ‘let me just strum random notes on my guitar and see if something sounds nice’ person,” you respond. You don’t know how many times you’ve come home from class to hear Sewoon stringing together some awful sounding melody, woken up in the middle of the night to some obnoxious guitaring from the room beside yours because he sleeps during the day.
Sewoon laughs at your rebuttal, too smitten to come up with his own comeback. “I was hoping you’d like it, that’s why I invited you to it.”
You chuckle. “Ah, geez, thanks. Thought I was just invited because I’m your sad mortal roommate.”
“That too,” Sewoon jokes, earning a gasp and a light smack on the shoulder from you. “I’m kidding. I really did think you’d like it, though. Was considering taking you out to another festival like this one when it gets a bit warmer.”
You narrow your eyes, taking a hesitant and drawn-out sip of your tea. “Did Donghyun set you up to do this?”
“No! All me. Thought we could go together, do some festival-y type things and listen to good music,” Sewoon says, grinning and hopeful.
It sounds suspiciously like a date to your ears, but you suppose that friends can have dates. Very romantic-sounding dates. Sewoon’s playing some sort of game here, but you’re not sure if you ever read the instruction manual, so you’re kind of just bullshitting your way through it. But a date—romantic, platonic, pathetic, whatever—with Sewoon is something you find you can never really resist.
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One plus side to your best friend-slash-vamp being your long-term uni roommate is the fact that the both of you are typically awake at the same time. This can mostly be chalked up to your absolute shit sleeping schedule and the fact that he has to try and be as awake as he can during the night, since he can’t really do much besides mope in a dark room with the blinds drawn when it’s day.
Truth be told, even before Sewoon turned, he always had kind of a terrible sleeping schedule, always calling you up in high school at three in the morning to go and have some ridiculous escapade in the local park, go to a gas station convenience store and buy an obscene amount of chips before pigging out on the sidewalk. Sewoon really was just meant to be a vampire. Hardly anything changed—other than his unyielding need for blood—when he was bitten. Jeong Sewoon is still Jeong Sewoon, fangs or not, and you are still his best friend, vamp qualities and all.
He doesn’t have his internship this week—something about overstaffing and boring patients and shift cuts that you didn’t pay much attention to—and he doesn’t have class either because he takes it online (so he can do it at night), so he’s kind of just… always at home. Always. To be quite frank, you don’t really like leaving Sewoon at home alone. Not that he’s been known to you to throw massive parties or constantly bring home one-night stands (in fact, he never does the latter), but this whole vampire thing is still a bit new to the both of you. There could always be this one weird trait that could pop out of nowhere and burn the whole damn complex down, and you don’t like taking that chance.
The relationship you have with him is a little weird. You’re not necessarily his caretaker, because he knows how to deal with his own shit most of the time, but you’re also not just his best friend-slash-roommate that just so conveniently happened to want to share an apartment with him. There’s this peculiar mix of friend, guardian, guide, and another thing you don’t like putting a name to.
That thing that makes you think that half of the time there’s some romantic connotation with whatever the hell you’re doing with Sewoon. Whatever it is.
At least you can go to class with peace of mind, knowing that Sewoon typically just keeps himself busy when you’re not there with naps, schoolwork, or that beat-up old guitar that drives you nuts. The one that makes him hiss at you when you try to touch it.
You come home on a Friday night to one of the nicest scenes you think you’ve ever seen in the history of your friendship with Sewoon. Candles are lit all around the living space (you didn’t even know you owned candles) and there are Christmas lights decorating the walls. Sewoon sits on the couch, not a dead animal in sight, curled up in several layers of blankets and duvets and sheets, and a DVD case rests on your coffee table.
“The hell is this?” You ask, mostly in awe as you look around, dropping your bag onto the floor beside you.
“Movie night, except I took the liberty of setting the mood,” Sewoon says, clearly proud of his work.
“What movie are we watching?” You ask in disbelief, settling in on the couch next to him.
“Zootopia,” Sewoon says as he presses a couple of buttons on the remote, bringing the two of you to the loading screen.
“Wow, very romantic. Animals walking on two feet, damn, it just gets you,” you comment sarcastically.
“Leave me alone, I know we both like this movie, so we’re watching it.”
“You know me so well,” you mutter as you let your head rest in the crook of his neck, heaps of blankets covering your bodies.
Surprisingly enough, the movie goes on perfectly and without any interruptions from Sewoon, who is notorious for pausing the movie every five minutes to say something. He just lets his arm tug you in closer as you snuggle together on your sad little couch in this homely apartment. Sewoon always laughs at the worst parts, though, and typically you’re just a little annoyed by the timing but tonight, you can’t help but relish in the sound of his giggles, heart racing when they begin and dropping when they end.
You’d be a fool to not notice the definite romantic aura this entire movie night possesses, from the candles to the blankets to the fairy lights. Even so, you swear to yourself that you’re just friends, that maybe Sewoon’s doing all of this just for fun because you guys are just friends and you’ve always been just friends and that’s how you think you’ll always be. Friends do this type of stuff for their friends? Right?
You’re almost half-asleep by the time the movie draws to a close, Shakira’s voice fading out as Sewoon lowers the volume.
“Sleepy?” He asks, voice thick with tiredness himself.
“Just a little,” you say, trying to hide it even though you know he can see right through you. “What was all of this for, anyway, Sewoon?”
Sewoon blushes a little, eyes glowing a dark burgundy in the candlelight. You’ve never seen them this shade before. “Just a thing for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah, can’t you tell? I care about you a lot, Y/N. I never want you to leave my side,” Sewoon hums softly, and you have no idea what he’s going to say next, what else he’ll do to sweep you off your feet, until he presses his lips to yours.
This is easily the most lighthearted kiss you’ve ever had, no teeth or tongue, just a child’s playground kiss. Just his lips on yours. It makes you gasp ever so slightly, but immediately you melt into the feeling, smiling on his lips.
“So, how about it?” Sewoon asks, beaming and hopeful and promising. He’ll give you the world if it means your happiness. “Will you accept my very cheesy confession?”
You laugh into your hand, almost too in shock to say anything. Almost. “You’re such a soft vamp, Sewoon, but of course. Always. It’s always been you, Sewoon.”
Grinning in the candlelight, his fangs have never looked better.
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eversall · 7 years ago
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ok i thought of this malec elevator au and it's KILLING ME: magnus and alec ride the same elevator every day at the same time and always see each other and they think the other is super cute but are too shy(or at least alec is) but also they never really have time to say anything bc it's like a 3 second ride so little by little they start talking to each other and their fondness for each other grows and eventually they ask each other out to dinner and it's super cute i'm literally dead
this is so cute im dead too???!!! honestly the best idea. also please forgive me and imagine that a ride from floor twenty to floor one is long enough for them to talk, okay, it’s fiction.
It’s been an endlessly long day and Alec’s ready to just go home and camp out on the couch in his sweats, even though he knows he’s probably going to be dragged to the gym to spar by Jace. He strides into the elevator and tips his head back against the wall, blearily opening his eyes when it dings on the next floor down. 
A man walks in balancing an empty thermos and a notepad in one hand and his laptop and headphones in the other, trying to stuff everything into his leather messenger bag despite having no hands left to do so with. The laptop teeters and begins to fall; Alec springs forward and catches it, but as he looks up to say here you go the words die in his throat as he takes in the other man’s sparkling eyes and soft-looking lips. He’s got red-tipped, styled hair, and the scarf around his neck is doing nothing to protect him from the cold and instead emphasizes the sharp, broad cut of his shoulders and his muscles, the long lines of his torso. 
“Hi, uh.” Alec flounders, handing the laptop back. “Here.” 
“Thank you.” The man smiles at Alec, his eyes crinkling, and Alec can’t help but smile back, wide and genuine. He’s not a friendly person by nature, but something about the brightness of the man, and how beautiful he is, has blown his normal walls away. 
The elevator dings again, and they both smile at each other one more time before they go their separate ways. The thought of the man brings a smile to his face all night. 
.
It’s close to a week the next time Alec sees him. This time he’s holding a doughnut in his hand as he leaves work, contemplating if he wants to eat it now or maybe save to share with Jace, when the door dings and the man with the red-tipped hair walks in again. Alec looks up in surprise. 
“Nice goatee.” He says before he can help himself, and the man’s eyes widen slightly as he looks at Alec, before a slow smile spreads over his face. 
“Thanks.” He holds a finger up. “You’re the one who rescued my laptop last week - thank you for that, by the way. I would have lost all of my notes for this weeks project if you hadn’t.” 
“It was no problem.” Alec fiddles with the edge of the napkin in his hands as silence falls around them again, the digital display on the wall ticking down the floors from twenty to one. 
“I’m Magnus, by the way.” 
Alec looks up, surprised. Magnus is still looking at him like Alec’s done something unbelievable. 
“Alec.” He says, and the elevator dings for the ground floor. They smile at each other again - Alec hasn’t done this much random smiling for a stranger since he worked as a mall kiosk attendant for one brutal, short-lived week back when he was sixteen - and part ways. 
.
“I like your shirt.” 
“It’s just black.” Alec says, amused, the next time he meets Magnus. “You don’t have to pretend it’s anything special.” 
“Well,” Magnus adjusts his scarf - a beautiful printed silk one this time - and shakes his head at Alec, his eyes amused. “You complimented my goatee last time, which frankly I’ve gotten nothing but bad reactions about - I felt it was only appropriate I point out that you’re not bad yourself.” 
Alec laughs, startled by the way his cheeks heat up at the praise.
“I don’t think I’ll ever quite reach your level of fashion.” He remarks as the doors slide open. “Have a good day, Magnus.” 
“You as well, Alec.” 
.
“What happened to the red?” Alec blurts out, unable to help himself. Magnus looks at him blearily, an unusual tiredness layered over his impeccable makeup. 
“Oh, my hair.” Magnus runs a hand through his hair. “It was time for a change, I guess.” 
“Back to the basics?” Alec asks. Magnus looks at him, his head lolling sideways from where he’s resting against the wall, and a faint smile graces his features. 
“If I remember correctly,” Magnus says, “you’re the one that’s good with the basic colors. Like black.” 
Alec looks down at his purple button up and shrugs, looking at Magnus and lifting a challenging eyebrow. Magnus laughs. 
“You’re something else, Alec. Short for Alexander?” Magnus asks. Alec nods and smiles sympathetically at Magnus as the elevator doors open to the ground floor. 
“Have a good night, Magnus.”
.
“You inspired me.” Magnus says by way of greeting when the elevator doors slide open. His hair has streaks of violet in it, and Alec looks at it with barely concealed delight. 
“Glad to be of service.” He replies, nodding. Magnus hums. 
“I think I’ve figured it out. We meet once a week on this elevator, on Wednesday evenings. You work late?” Magnus asks. 
“I’m the head of the incorporation effort, and I’ve been working on getting all the mergers together.” Alec says, rubbing the back of his neck. “What are you doing so late?” 
“The mergers? I wrote one of them.” Magnus says, surprised. “You’re the Lightwood.” 
Alec smiles, charmed despite himself at the way Magnus snaps his fingers and makes a little a-ha! noise. 
“The one and only. When you introduced yourself as Magnus, I figured you were the Mr. Bane I’d heard so much about.” 
“Well, I’m flattered. Good things, I hope.” He smooths down the front of his coat and looks at Alec through his lashes, and Alec suddenly can’t breathe, utterly charmed by the man in front of him. “I’ve been having meeting with our Los Angeles design team ever week. I’m the last one left on my floor, usually.” 
“Well,” Alec says, clearing his throat and smiling crookedly at Magnus as the elevator door opens, “now you’ve got me.” 
.
“What’s the tattoo?” Magnus asks. Alec looks down in surprise to see that a curl of black is peeking out of his collar. He adjusts his shirt, face flaming red. 
“It’s, uh.” He shifts on his feet. “My mother and father come from some antiquated nobility circles…a very long time ago we had a coat of arms and entire codex of symbols. The book’s been passed down through the generations, and even though it doesn’t mean anything, we get them as tattoos to symbolize things.” 
“Nobility?” Magnus asks, his eyes wide. He shakes his head, his lips curving upwards into a smile.“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Alexander?” 
Alec laughs. “It’s no big deal, I think half of Europe can claim to be descended from nobles.” He shrugs, and peers at Magnus. “I heard that you’re the son of an Indonesian business tycoon? That’s far more impressive.” Magnus shakes his head, his expression turning stormy. 
“The disowned son.” He says, and at the look on Alec’s face he hastens to reassure him. “It’s an old hurt, I assure you. I’m quite open about my sexuality, and that’s ruffled a few feathers. I’ve never regretted it.” 
“Oh.” Alec says, and Magnus gives him a strained smile. When the door opens, he looks squarely at Magnus. “I’m still sorry, though, for what it’s worth. I can’t imagine anyone being ashamed of you.” 
Magnus’ soft, delighted smile stays with him for days. 
.
“Cookie?” Magnus asks as he steps into the elevator. Alec hums in appreciation and takes one of the two that Magnus is holding. 
“This is the deflect symbol, by the way.” Alec says steadily, looking at the elevator buttons. 
“What?” 
“You asked about my tattoo last time.” He unbuttons the top button of his shirt and pulls the collar slightly, revealing the larger, sweeping symbol. “I thought that it would help me remember to hide the parts of myself that I didn’t like. It was the first one I got.” 
“It doesn’t sound like it worked.” Magnus says, and his voice is even and gentle, steadying as he regards Alec. Alec barks out a laugh as he pulls his shirt over the tattoo again. 
“No.” And he smiles. “It took me a while, but I learned to accept my sexuality too. It’s not the easiest thing in the world, but the tattoo reminds me to keep trying.”
“Funny how things work out.” Magnus puts his hand on Alec’s shoulder and squeezed, his fingers warm. It’s the first time they’ve touched, and Alec suddenly finds himself aching for more. It’s a ferocious, sudden want, and he blinks as he realizes that over weeks and weeks of elevator chats, he’s begun to fall hard for Magnus. 
“Yeah. Funny.” Alec says, clearing his throat as he stares at Magnus’ gorgeous eyes. 
.
“You look like you just received some very bad news.” Magnus remarks as he comes into the elevator. Alec snorts. 
“It’s not bad. Well,” he amends, “bad for me. My roommate - my brother - his boyfriend Simon asked him to move in with him. He’s ecstatic, of course, but I’ve gotten used to having him around.” 
“Simon Lewis?” Magnus asks, leaning forward in interest. 
“Yeah.” Alec says, surprised, and then he inhales sharply. “Oh, Simon works on the nineteenth floor, that’s right.” 
“He’s my assistant, he runs the whole place effortlessly.” Magnus smiles, his eyes fond. “I don’t know what we’d do without him. Your brother is Jace Herondale?” 
“His legal last name is Lightwood.” Alec says, nodding. “I’m happy for them. Simon’s a great guy - don’t tell him I said that. He pretends he’s got a healthy level of fear for me, and I’d like to keep it that way.” 
“Of course.” Magnus’ shoulders are shaking with his laughter. “But now you’re out a roommate?” 
“My sister offered to move in with me, but her girlfriend told me two weeks ago that she’s going to ask Iz to move in with her too.” Alec shrugs. “I don’t mind, living on my own, it’s just…nice to have someone around.” 
The elevator door dings while Magnus is looking at him sharply, carefully, and he almost misses Magnus’ soft “It is.” 
.
“This is the last week I’m working late.” Alec blurts out when Magnus steps into the elevator. Magnus freezes as the door closes behind him. “I - I don’t know how this is the only place I run into you.” 
“I don’t know either.” Magnus says quietly, a lost expression on his face. Alec’s throat is dry, but he thinks about the text from Simon on his phone - hey, now that I’ve connected the dots to my boss’ mysterious elevator man, you should give it a shot. you’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain. 
Everything to gain. He hasn’t let himself think about being happy with someone in a long, long time, and that knee-jerk fear in his heart at the vulnerability required is still there. But this is Magnus, who’s beautiful and witty and intelligent, and Alec doesn’t want to let that go. 
“Listen, I, uh.” He sighs and looks upward, gathering his courage, before he looks back at Magnus. “You’re really great, and i just - you’re always the highlight of my week, and I want to - “
“Do you want to get dinner with me? Like, a date?” Magnus asks in a rush, his eyes hopeful and a smile growing on his face. Alec lets out the breath he was holding, his heart suddenly threatening to beat out of his chest, his cheeks heating up as he laughs. 
“I’d love to.” He smiles at Magnus, and it feels like the start of something amazing. 
.
one year later
“Working late again, Mr. Lightwood?” 
“I was waiting for my boyfriend, Mr. Bane.” Alec says, nodding seriously at Magnus as the elevator door closes behind him. It’s late on a Wednesday night, and they’re probably the only ones left in the building. 
“Waiting for your boyfriend? He sounds like a lucky man.” Magnus remarks. Alec rolls his eyes at that and steps forward into Magnus’ space. 
“I’m the lucky man, Magnus.” He says, exasperated and fond, and Magnus is laughing as Alec tangles his hand in the collar of Magnus’ shirt and kisses him, slow and unhurried as the floors tick by. 
And the thought of going home, to their well-lit apartment and their cats and their ridiculously expensive bed, no longer feels lonely at all. 
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thepsychicclam · 8 years ago
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Hi love! What would you say the top ten sterek fics you've ever read are?
This was REALLY HARD. Mainly bc it’s hard to choose only 10. Because I’m leaving off some great fics (which is why there are more than 10 on here :3)! And some I get mixed up bc I read them so long ago and near each other. (You can always browse my fave fic list here) But I’ve narrowed it to this list. These are the fics that really left impressions on me. They’re all amazing and deserve to be read and loved!!! So…have a TOP 27 FAVE STEREK FICS list :DDDD
1. Cry Havoc by ladyblahblah
In Beacon Hills, the two-year war that’s been raging between werewolves and hunters has begun spilling over onto the civilian population. Meanwhile, in Boston, when the tattoo on Stiles Stilinski’s back is damaged on a late-night hunt he begins to have dreams that lead him across the country, drawn by an inexplicable conviction that he’s needed there. When he discovers that Derek Hale began the war after his mate was killed, Stiles finds himself being offered a strange deal: figure out how to bring the alpha’s mate back, and peace talks can begin.
2. Where the Inevitable Isn’t by Survivah
Stiles has a magical thingamajig that’s supposed to get him out of danger. Trouble is, it took him really, really far out of danger. Like, to the point where he isn’t in the same universe anymore.
“A part of Stiles had been thinking that he’d come home, and just go, ‘hey, Derek, are we mates and you just haven’t said anything about it?’ and Derek would reply, 'now you mention it, we are indeed! Now come to my bedchamber, where we will have super hot sex and then cuddle after!’”
3. Pack Up; Don’t Stray by the_deep_magic
AU – Werewolves are an enslaved underclass, collared and tagged by human masters. Detective Stilinski’s on duty the night they bring in an untagged stray.
4. Our Memories Are Numbered by rufflefeather
Stiles’ Jeep grinds to a halt, he sees someone running through the rain, he’s not expecting it to be Derek. He’s not expecting a Derek without any memories either, or an Alpha pack that’s coming for all of them. He probably should’ve, because lately nothing goes the way he expects.
5. Ad Astra Per Tentaculum by morganoconner
Space contains a multitude of different species, and Derek has seen and helped a lot of them in his time taking down branches of the slave-trade organization. But this is the first time he’s seen an Aloshrivnik. It’s not the tentacles that draw him in; it’s the goddamn eyes that stare at him without backing down.
“Stiles,” it says to him. “My name is Stiles.”
6. Part of My Melody by hayesgeneration
Derek is a professional classical musician who has found himself lost without a muse, without goal and without even a hint of spark. He’s almost settled nearly contently (if not slightly unwillingly) on having to live his life as a recluse, when his sister finally grows tired of his antics, giving him a Christmas ultimatum.
7. Littlest Alpha by triedunture
Derek and Stiles have taken out the Alpha Pack and pretty much saved the world. Okay, the town. Okay, their remaining friends. But the Alphas left something behind: a baby. And this baby is an Alpha too. Derek is determined to take care of the abandoned child, and Stiles is stuck going along for the ride.
But Stiles doesn’t expect the ride to include seeing another side of Derek, or to find another way to say “family.”
8. Holding Your Own Weight by zjofierose
Stiles Stilinski is the best trapeze artist west of the Mississippi, but that doesn’t do him much good without a catcher. Enter one quiet roughneck who calls himself Derek and knows maybe a little too much about circus arts for someone who was hired to schlep tents. But Derek has his secrets, and so does the new girl, Allison. Who’s being hunted and who’s being haunted, and will Stiles ever be able to convince Derek to help him fly again?
9. And You Say You’re Alone by taelynhawker
Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter’s untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.
10. DILF by twentysomething
“Today is Scott’s first day of kindergarten and Derek is terrified.”
Okay - so here are some other favorites that I COULDN’T LEAVE OFF because they’re also my faves I just have more than 10???
11. Make us laugh (or nothing will) by rohkeutta
When Derek Hale left Beacon Hills at 18 to become a kickboxing champion, he thought he would never return. But here he is, seven years later: trying to salvage something from the ruins of his life, eighteen months after the house fire that killed his parents and left him limping and without a future. Enter Stiles, a college dropout Derek might or might not have been friends with in high school, and the unexpected interest he manifests towards the love of Derek’s life. 
12. Caged Humanity by ember
The other factors sounded like complete bullshit. Like about Companions having certain dispositions for submission, and a personality built around wanting to please. Fuck that, Stiles was a strong independent man who didn’t need no wolf. Submitting was straight up taught in classes. Don’t talk back, try to reason not argue, never run away when your Mate was in heat. Mate? More like owner. There was a reason Companions were called pets. God Stiles hated it all, the hypocrisy. It was an honor? More like a life sentence.
An AU where werewolves are given humans as pets called Companions, and a very begrudging Stiles is taken in by Derek Hale, much to both their displeasure. And then pleasure. Very, very sexual pleasure.
13. Ain’t Nothing So Good  as the Cake and Eating it by sofonisba_found
Derek thinks he’s doing alright in life, with his family at his side and a job he loves. Despite his family’s concerns he remains adamant that he doesn’t need a mate, afraid to take the risk of letting anyone close enough to try to hurt his family again. That is until he realizes that his true mate has been right under his nose for years, and that now through his inaction he may lose him.
14. The Boy and the Beast by dsudis
In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)
15. The Moon’s Gonna Follow Me Home by turningterrific
Derek doesn’t want to call the window repair guy. He doesn’t want to sweep up the glass. He’ll inevitably miss a few shards and pull them out of the bottom of his bare feet for weeks.
He doesn’t want to try to make this place feel like home when it isn’t.
Derek stayed in Beacon Hills and tried to make it work because he wanted pack, wanted purpose. He gave his best effort and found himself back where he started: alone, with a few begrudging allies. He’s tired, and even though his werewolf body heals quickly, he feels the weary ache down to his center.
He packs his car with the few things he cares about enough to drag them from place to place. He locks the loft and calls a realtor about listing the building he’d bought in a misguided attempt to secure a future.
And then he leaves.
16. Sell Your Body to the Night by dsudis
“No,” he repeated impatiently. “I’m not a cop. I’m someone who wants to exchange my money for your sexual services. I was told you were in that line of work.”
“I, uh, yeah, sorry,” Stiles said. He glanced around again and then up–the full moon was almost directly overhead. Just one of those nights, maybe. “Yeah, I am. I do that.”
17. Constantly on the Cusp by alisvolatpropiis
Stiles is gay, out and proud, and a Beacon Hills deputy. Derek is a firefighter and war veteran who thinks he’s straight; or, Derek and Stiles have lots of semi-public hatesex on the road to Love.
18. Now as Ever (All That Is and Has Been) by venis_envy
Stiles can’t remember what happened to rearrange the time-space continuum, or how he ended up being pulled into the past. All he knows is that he’s there now, in 2003 Beacon Hills, with a teenage werewolf and a possibly-crazy veterinarian as his only allies.
19. Important Things by suzvoy
Stiles learns that even with werewolves, giant lizards and psychopathic hunters on the loose, life can still find other ways to screw with you. Case in point: everyone keeps assuming he and Derek are a couple. What the hell?
20. According to Plans by eldee
Five times Stiles and Derek pretend to be boyfriends, and the one time they didn’t have to pretend at all. (Or: in which Stiles’ plan for senior year is completely ruined by a supernatural creature stalking him.)
21. The Road to Self-Actualization is Littered with F-Bombs by blue_fjords
It’s Stiles’s final Spring Break of his college career, and he’s got plans to do a whole lot of nothing. But Derek has other plans for him, and before he knows it, Stiles is joining Derek to go undercover at a couples’ retreat in a bid to catch a ring of thieves. It’s the world’s most perfect plan! Nothing could possibly go wrong!
22. In This Twilight How Dare You Speak of Grace by secondstar
Zombies. Stiles always knew the world would end this way.
23. Time to Begin by triedunture
Stiles learns some heavy-duty magic, and Derek convinces him to send him back in time to fix all the mistakes he’s made. But Derek ends up making things worse, and Stiles has to think creatively to save him. And everyone else, including their younger selves.
24. Losers by stilinskisparkles
Where Derek is new to college, eager to spend his time learning, and Stiles is everything he didn’t want in a room mate. He’s loud, he’s into sports, and he keeps trying to make Derek do things.
Or, the one where Derek falls for a jock, Erica will cut you if you disturb her studying, and Jackson is a closeted romantic who pretends to hate everything.
25. That Unfortunate Situation by 74days
Derek Hale, 3rd Duke of that name has an unfortunate run in with the young Baron of Stiles - accusing the young man of being a fortune hunter. Regency Romance meets Sterek.
26. Reach Out by weathervaanes
Or, In Which Stiles Falls in Love Twice…With the Same Person
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Stiles sees the flyer on his very last day at Beacon Hills High School. It’s hanging, unassuming, in the hall near the front entrance along with bulletins and other flyers, advertisements, posters for free student concerts, but the fact that the word “sex” is written in a font two times larger than the rest of the page catches his attention.
It’s an advice hotline for a whole range of things, from teenage angst to how to deal with your parents telling you you’re adopted and a whole mess in the middle. Stiles thinks it’s funny, though, that they offer advice on sexuality and sex education. It makes sense on the one hand, since high school sex ed does jack shit for actual learning, but anyone who really wants to know stuff has an infinite source of knowledge right on their phone—the internet.
So it starts off as a joke.
27. Between Men and Lions by standinginanicedress
“I thought we could be friends,” Derek offers, to which Stiles gets an odd smile on his face.
“Friends,” he repeats, an odd inflection.
“Yes, friends.”
Stiles laughs, just barely. It’s more of an exhalation of breath than it is genuine mirth or anything else, and then he smiles. “I’m pretty good at friends,” he says with a tilt to his head, and Derek clears his throat and has to look away.
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