#also i have so many more updates to give you guys ugh

[gyuswhore]

Cherry Picker [1]

«« "Do me a favour and forget your mouth guard next time. Let the puck punch you in the mouth if I can't." »» 

Choi Seungcheol x reader | part of the winter with you collab hosted by @camandemstudios!

Part 1: 19k | Part 2

warnings: Hockey player! Seungcheol, figure skater! reader, *deep breath* ENEMIES TO LOVERS, angst, fluff, smut [MINORS DNI], toxic friends, cheol has anger issues, kkuma appearance, @miniseokminnies makes also makes a fluffy appearance, injuries, mentions of blood, smut tags in the next part

synopsis: Cherry Picking [ice hockey]: a manoeuver in which a player, the floater, literally loafs (spends time in idleness) or casually skates behind the opposing team's unsuspecting defencemen while they are in their attacking zone. There wasn't much you counted on in life; just your skates, your drive and how it felt to win. And of course, your local ice rink, that is now being colonised by an obnoxious hockey team in all their big, loud, stinking glory. Neither does it help that one particular red donned specimen forgets to leave his cherry picking on the ice.

[a/n] (it's a long one but PLEASE read) : ITS HERE FINALLY this was an extremely bumpy ride and I wouldn't have finished it without all of my friends who quite literally kept me going. I know I made an update saying this was gonna end up being 20k max but it turns out my yap-itis is for life </33

the posting schedule for this fic is going to be a little less predictable, I will try to get part 2 out asap but I do not currently have a date for you.

big thank you to @highvern for betaing and making me feel better about this fic, @amourcheol for talking me out of meltdowns multiple times and for giving me some really good scene pointers, @ugh-yoongi for being so patient w me and explaining how ice hockey works with so much patience. ty to @the-boy-meets-evil @tusswrites @lovetaroandtaemin for also proof reading for me 🥹

HUGE thank you to everyone at @camandemstudios who agreed to be part of this collab and being part of the journey as we grow 🫶 please check out the collab masterlist linked above, there's already so many amazing fics posted ready for you to read <33

that being said, I know more about figure skating than I do about hockey, but even so there are defo some inconsistencies in terms of accuracies in this, please bear with me 🫶 remember to reblog or send me an ask telling me your thoughts, id love to hear what you guys think 🥹 masterlist

“CAN I HELP YOU?”

“I’m sorry,” you gravel out. 

“Sorry isn’t gonna give back my hour and thirteen minutes.” 

The strap of your gym bag cuts into your bare shoulder where the collar had slipped, the tight threading sure to leave a scratch by the time this is bound to be done. You’d managed to avoid coach Carroll’s morning cornering for a couple months, going above and beyond by showing up to the icy rink before she could even pull up in the parking lot in her blaring red Porsche, let alone before her ten minute meditations in her cream coloured seats. 

“There was an accident on the highway. Truck tipped over.”

“It’s eight in the morning,” Carroll points.

“Illegal truck, I guess.” 

Teeth to tongue, you know you’ve done it. 

She’s in her usual tracksuit, green today, that contrasts her bright red hair in its tight curls. Her glasses are her sensible Ralph Laurens, eyes piercing through the tinted lens as she holds her chin in her hands. Silent, calculating. 

“Fine. Change.” 

Your legs want to give out before you can even get your skates on. 

There were many things Isabella Carroll was good at. The industry would have one of them be a good coach; one of the most expensive, the one that squeezed the life out of her students to inject into the golds, silvers and bronzes they would then bring her on an equally diamond encrusted platter. 

She has also mastered the art of impeccable dressing downs. 

The fact she chose to skip out on verbally humiliating you meant you’d managed to strike that cord. She might be leaving in the next 45 minutes, but she has a very particular way of stretching the minutes into years. 

Like a whipped horse, you scurry into the locker rooms, skin crawling. Your gym bag is positively launched into your designated locker, shoes kicked off as you attempt to stick your right foot into your skates, narrowly missing your heel as it grazes right past the toe pick. 

You slow down after that, not needing a scar on your heel to match the large one on the side of your calf. 

By the time you jog back out, unzipping your jacket to throw onto one of the benches, coach is on the ice, following Marina who zips around on the other end of the rink in her step routine. 

It’s difficult to not rush through your warmups when you’re already late, your splits hardly pushed out as you pray all that running around in the desolate locker rooms was enough to stretch everything out. 

There’s a crash on the illuminated ice as you slip off your skate guards, Marina already practising her Salchows. “You’re in the air for enough time, why can’t you rotate?!” 

Right blade first, you step into the cold encircling, gliding into the centre to begin making your usual rounds around the circumference.

There’s a positive screech of your name from across the ice, wind blowing in your hair as you turn to look. “Do I need to hire someone to hold up your free leg? Fix it, girl!”  

Holding your left leg more taut, you attempt to transition into a jump and spin. You fail, landing on both feet. Somehow, falling on your ass felt like a better conclusion to that arc. 

“Wonderfully executed! Let’s try both hands on the ice too next time, really complete the contemporary finish,” coach hollers out to you as she continues to follow Marina at the same time. 

Trying again, you manage to land on your outer left blade. You receive no comment. 

You try the jump again, pushing into a sit spin. 

The momentum is enough to begin the familiar slack in your scalp, your bun loosening its grip on your hair. Biting your tongue would be dangerous right now, but you would if you could, especially considering the ramifications of your hair coming undone in front of her. 

The crouch as you spin burns your thighs like you’re being branded, pulling yourself back up as you finish abruptly. Still no comment, the unintelligible string of nagging coming from the other side of the rink. 

Marina stands hands on her hips, breathing so heavily she’s nearly heaving. Her blonde hair is loosening far worse than yours, strands framing her face. Coach Carroll waves her hands and shakes her head so quickly you wonder how her glasses haven’t flown off. You didn’t get to see what cardinal sin Marina committed to warrant this reaction, but you feel better knowing she’s exhausted enough to let her insults swim past. 

Ten seconds is enough to catch your breath, moving to do something busy enough to avoid another being screamed at across the ice, again. 

By the end of the remaining forty five minutes, you realised your punishment was also punishing Marina. Coach Carroll remained tailing Marina as you attempted to do everything that would please her, far away from her. Not a direction, praise or neutral comment in sight or sound, sealed with her always expected retorts. 

She leaves without a word, leaving you scrambling to the benches for a seat. Putting your skate guards on is torture, your legs refusing to pull up to reach them. You hardly notice Marina slam down into the seat beside you to mimic you slumped down and head lolled back, eyes closed to the bright ceiling. 

“These skates are gonna kill me,” you whine once you’ve caught your breath, unlacing them to inspect the blistering damage. 

“They’re brand new, what did you expect?” she retorts, moving to sit up straighter. Of course, you were grappling at straws expecting anything akin to sympathy from Marina. 

It was your misfortune that the day you had to break in your skates was the day you’d be late, your heavily bandaged foot still aching as you sit idle. 

Your lungs are still burning when you pull yourself back up, knees buckling the absolute slightest bit as you attempt to take the first baby step back onto the ice. 

“We need to get back to it,” Marina says, and you have half a mind to bite that you were up before her. 

She’s faster at slipping off her skate guards though, and you watch her back as she glides back onto the ice. You follow suit, trailing her as you speak. 

“Hey, I’m sorry Carroll was on your ass because of me. My alarm didn’t go off this morning, I overslept.”

She turns to look at you, ghost of a smile on her face. “Time to go old school I guess, I think my brother left behind his old alarm clock from college.”

“I guess—”

“Besides, I needed that. Wouldn’t have known my Salchows were sucky otherwise.”

She doesn’t let you respond and you’re left to watch as she takes off to warm herself back up. 

Strange as it was, you’ve found her behaviour simply doesn’t affect you anymore, choosing to take her as she was. She pushed you to be better, to work harder. Even now, as your ankle burns and your hip screams, you brace yourself into another axel entry, trying your hardest to keep up with Marina. 

It’s another couple hours when Marina leaves for her second appointment with her personal trainer, leaving you alone. 

It’s less crowded now, despite the head count going from two to one, but you appreciate the alleviation as you continue to practise for the rest of the morning. The rink feels more vast and your hip has stopped its incessant aches. 

Having finished a run through of your routine without music, you move towards the sound booth to turn on the tail end of your track, skating back to the echoing rink to brace yourself for the next four agonising minutes. 

You’ve adjusted your starting position about ten times by the time the silence of the song restarting settles. And then it begins, soft piano as you push yourself off into the throngs of this hellsent routine. 

It’s muscle memory by now, but your stomach lurches before you push into a jump anyway. There isn’t much time to ponder when you’re midair, tight yet contorted, trying to land on the right side of the blade. But there’s a phantom pain in your right ankle, right when you’re at the point of your arc, and you feel the all too dreaded panic flood in. 

You land on both feet, less than ideal but with no one to watch the fail, it was better than falling on your ass. There’s been worse outcomes, so there’s little you can do but continue into the step sequence. 

Trying to shake off that bout of panic, you briefly wonder if the music suddenly had more bass than you’d last checked. Perhaps you just hadn’t been practising like you should, but you make a mental note mid-spin to listen to the track again later tonight for any tidbits you’d missed. 

Your heartbeat is trying to accommodate more air than you can let it, especially as you feel the pulse in your ears quicken as you approach your final jump sequence. The music is louder yet muffled all the same, there’s an incessant banging that you can’t figure out is from your head or a corrupted music file. But you find that sweet spot, deciphering through the ruckus in your brain, and you jump. 

It happens again, the strange ache in your ankle that should be long gone, and just like that, all that panic you shook off in the interim comes hurtling back. The world’s gone silent, blaringly so, and for some heaven known reason, you’ve closed your eyes.

You aren’t so lucky this time round, landing directly on your back with a spectacular crash, the ice cutting cold through your thermals as you slide in the direction of your epic fall. Eyelids opening, they’re met with the spotlighted ceiling, head cushioned by the hard plane of ice beneath you. 

The pain in your ankle’s escaped like a fugitive, done it’s damaged and left you crumpled on the floor. The adrenaline is rushing just enough to keep you from identifying any other awakened aches, but you have a sneaking feeling your hip is going to hate you after this. 

You’re still laying flat on the ice when you realise you're laying in mostly silence. Your music is off, and has been since you came to on the floor. The banging, you realise, wasn’t just in your head either. The unmistakable reverberation of the locker rooms is loud and assuming, noises rattling all the way out onto the echoing rink. 

It takes the strength of a village to pull yourself up, but you do it anyhow, ignoring the blatant protests of your mind and soul as you squint across the rink to the sound booth. 

As you skate towards the gate, you assume it’s Hansol trying to get your attention by disrupting you mid session, but the figure shuffling into view is telling you otherwise. 

It isn’t anyone you know, clearer as you grow closer to the gate. It’s obvious he’s the culprit that turned off your music, your laptop shut and the wire to the speakers disconnected from the port. 

You stare at it pointedly as you grapple for your skate guards. 

The man does nothing but remain with his hands in the pockets of his bright red hoodie, hovering over your laptop as he watches you struggle with your skates. SVT stitched onto the back in black. He’s as blank faced as ever, a stark contrast to your heavy breathing as you come round. 

Standing up straight, you dart between your laptop and this person, waiting for an explanation that seems to be lost in the void. You’re still heaving slightly, scowl forming on your face as this strange man offers you nothing.

“Um, did you—”

“Yeah. It’s four,” he responds, like it was supposed to explain enough. 

“And that means…?”

“We have the rink reserved.”

“But it’s Monday,” you respond. It sounds stupid, but it meant something. The rink was reserved on the weekdays for coach Carroll’s mentees, the weekends for the public. 

This man and his big brown eyes gaze directly into your soul as he responds, “And that means…?” 

You’re sweaty and tired, your feet ache with about five new blisters from the last time you checked, and you’re sure you need to get your hip checked out. Perhaps that’s why there’s this unreasonable surge of irritation that rises in the back of your head, irrational and half blinding. 

“That means—”

“Seungcheol! Get your ass in the locker room before I drag you in there myself.” The voice that rings out is heavy and has you flinching, the man’s order echoing from somewhere in the tunnel that leads to the locker rooms. 

The man you assume is named Seungcheol begins to walk away from you without a word or gesture, and you can only blink at his retreating back. 

“Hey! Do you mind not touching my stuff next time round?” you call out as a last ditch attempt to have the last word. He turns his head to you, eyebrows raised and a smirk of mild disbelief growing on his face. Nothing is said as his head turns back to the front, strutting into the tunnel.

He lets you have your last word as he walks away, your gaze the same shade of crimson as his retreating form. 

“AND THEN—THESE—HUGE dudes with fucking botox or fillers in their shoulders storm out—”

Your vent is interrupted by Lorelai who’s burst out laughing mid bite of her sandwich, “What?”

“Botox!” she muffles a shriek through a full mouth.

“They were shoulder pads or something, you get it!” 

The air in the outside seating of this cafe is stellar, the perfect in between you wait for all year. The parasol above you is enough so you don’t have to squint your eyes in the late afternoon sun, the wind perfectly paced in a breeze. Your own sandwich remains untouched, the bread gone stale as you pick at the corner of the crust. 

“Apologies,” she yips. “So you're saying we’re being partially colonised by hockey players?”

“I don’t know! Was it a one time thing, a weekly thing? It can’t be a weekly thing, Monday afternoons are routine practice days.” 

“The routine you’ve been practising for the past year and a half?” 

“I can’t afford getting rusty.” 

Lorelai drops her head like she’s had enough, “Maybe these hockey jocks are a blessing.”

“What?”

“Nothing! Hey, do you want cake, they have cheesecake, I could get some!” 

“Lorry!”

“Okay,” she huffs, dropping back into her seat with blown cheeks. “I’m sorry.” 

Lorelai has a sense of humour that took you more than enough time to decipher, but that wasn’t nearly the first thing you noticed about her. She was beautiful, even more so with the sun gracing her like a loving embrace. The highlights in her otherwise dark hair make the hazel of her eyes pop like two perfectly welcoming cliffs to jump off from. She was the definition of spunk and valour, yet graceful in everything she does. Even now, as she picks up her smoked turkey on honey oat, complete with every fixing and condiment on earth, you question how she can wrench her mouth open to take a reasonable bite; but she does, not a crumb out of place. 

“I have to share a rink with dudes whose hockey sticks are gonna make craters in the ice, why are you not mourning with me?”

“Pretty sure your toe picks do the same thing.”

“Lorelai!” 

“Not the government name!” she wails as though woefully wounded. 

“You’re impossible.”

“Carroll didn’t hate me for no reason.” She smiles in her pride. 

Lorelai’s competitive skating career came to an end sometime last year before the Grand Prix, a decision she announced gracefully with the words BITE ME etched with sharpie on her brand new competition skates. It was difficult to erase the mental image of the scarlet of Carrol’s face when Lorelai marched in with her hair chopped so short it’d be impossible to pull into a bun, marked skates in hand and a mask of determined rebellion on her face. Of course, the whole ordeal could’ve been an email, but it simply wouldn’t have been Lorelai. 

“It’s not like you were trying very hard to please her,” you grumble, nibbling on a fry. 

“Why would I try pleasing that woman?”

“For one thing, your sponsors were paying a bucketload so you could have her.”

“I didn’t want Carroll as a coach. Ever. I wanted Jameson. The only reason they put me with Carroll was because they were putting you and Marina with her.” Her voice is hard, eyebrows raised the slightest bit. 

“What does Jameson offer that Carroll doesn’t?!”

“Oh! I don’t know, let’s see,” she raises her voice as her sarcasm begins to simmer with a lethal edge. “Maybe the fact that an hour training with Jameson doesn’t feel like the subjected wrath of a world war two dictator!”

“Carroll is not that bad!”

“God, you become more like Marina everyday.”

You frown, “What does that mean?”

“It means—!” Lorelai pauses to close her eyes, and you can almost hear her counting in her head. “It means nothing. Eat your sandwich before the bread starts molding.”

“Ew.”

Lorelai smirks. “Bite me.”

You attempt to channel some of that Lorelai energy when you get to the rink past noon on a weekday. You hope you’re reasonable in your hope that Hansol will be in his office as you walk towards the door. 

Three rapt knocks before you hear a muffled voice telling you to come in. The door creaks when you open it. Loudly, might you add. 

“How long is it gonna sing every time I come in here?” you grimace. 

Hansol looks at you from behind his laptop with a tight smile. “For as long as I keep forgetting to oil the hinges.”

Hansol, for as young and qualified as he is, is only the rink manager because his family owns the place. Having graduated the year before with a shiny new law degree, he opted to take a break from moving forward with his career to “slow down” as he put it. The rink was as slow as it could get for him, betting the only important thing on his laptop screen currently was solitaire. 

“Did you also forget that I have the rink during the day on weekdays? 

“Ah. You’ve encountered the hockey team.”

“Yes. They turned off my music mid routine.”

“They're only here till the renovations in their home rink are done, we’re the only other rink in town that’s closed to the public on weekdays.” 

“But they’re cutting into my practice time?” you add, brows furrowed. 

Hansol opens his mouth before closing it again, eyebrows raised. “You clock in here five days a week, ten hours a day.”

“And?”

Hansol huffs out a breath. “Listen, I know you and the other skaters like having the rink to yourselves, and I’d be happy if it was always just you guys. Trust me, these jocks are impossible to clean up after, let alone deal with. Between the launch pad calibre noise and the stupid plastic barriers I have to put up on the railings, I’d love for it to just be you guys. But the only times you officially have the rinks booked is in the mornings when you’re training with coach Carrol, the rest of the week is technically up for grabs.”

“Let me book the rest of the slots then.”

“SVT’s already booked most of the remaining hours.” Hansol’s voice is sympathetic, but his words seemed final. You aren’t sure how bad your face was contorted, because suddenly he’s adding, “But hey, you can look at the leftover hours if they work for you.”

He pulls out the roster on a tablet before handing it to you. It only takes you a minute to scroll before you realise the only viable options were past 10 PM. The rink closed at 11. 

You sigh, shoulders visibly sagging as you let out a bated breath of tension. “It’s fine.” You hand the tablet back to Hansol. “I’ll figure it out.”

Turning on your heel, you make a move to leave the premises. Hansol calls out your name. 

“I’m sorry. Really.” 

You muster a smile, one that you cannot feel the slightest bit. “It’s alright.”

“Only a few months.”

Something in your smile sours, and you nod absentmindedly. “Only a few months.” 

THERE WERE OTHER WAYS the universe could have let it happen, someplace where you might have forgiven yourself. Someplace you had reason to be. 

You were accustomed to physical exertion, how could you not be when you were what you were, but hiking on an incline was never something you fancied yourself with. Gyms and coaches and paved running trails are nothing like rocky terrains and steep mountain paths with no guide but a mobile map. 

The semi finals had passed you by, handing you a gold medal along the way as you thrust yourself into bliss. It was a job well done, so much so that you allowed yourself a weekend of something other than skating rinks and training sessions. So many nights that you can hardly remember, yet flash like lightning under your eyelids. Where you sobbed into your pillow and cursed yourself for ever having the gall to take a step back, to be so arrogant and blustering to announce yourself away from the thing that should’ve mattered the most. 

It only took one tiny crater in the path to twist your ankle so hard you crumple to the ground with a scream you cannot remember. More hands than you have holding on to your searing ankle, like they were holding it together with nothing but their palms and fingers. Lorelai was talking, and talking and talking, but all you could hear was the roaring question in your mind. 

Why did you bring me here? 

Six weeks. 

You watched with your own eyes as the Grand Prix final shuttered away on a reel, like you were watching a movie from an age you could not visit. 

Six weeks. 

Marina sat beside your bed and said words you’d never forget. 

“I’m sorry, but…this is your own fault.”

Six weeks. 

Lorelai wept, and said the same words for an entirely different reason. 

“I’m sorry. This is my fault, it was my idea.” 

Six weeks. 

Carroll kept face, but you could see past the mask. A sigh that said more than any words of reassurance. Disappointed but not surprised. 

Six weeks you were bedridden with an ankle that refused to support your weight on the surface area of your bare foot, let alone on the 3/16th of an inch on a blade. 

Bedrest, meds, physical therapy, and still. The ache in your ankle follows you like a ghost haunting you of your worst mistake. 

It was your fault. You chose to put whimsy above everything you laboured for, for years and years. You chose to look past your shortcomings like they would not become your achilles heel. You chose to get on that trail. You chose to walk out on crutches.

You, who could land a jump on a fraction of an inch of steel, could now barely stand on her own two feet. 

You’d decided on that day, that you were as pathetic as they come.

IT WAS THE MOST natural decision to drag Lorelai out of where she rotted in bed to come with you to the rink. 

“You want me to fight them?” She’s wearing her Winnie the Pooh fuzzy pyjama pants and a university hoodie on top, her short hair concealed in the hood she’s pulled up. “They are hockey players. We are twigs!” 

“Lorry. Have you ever thrown a punch in your life?” you ask her as you pull your hair back into a loose bind. 

“No?” 

“Then why on earth would I ask you to fight goblins triple our size?” 

Her mouth is gaping in disbelief. “Why am I here then?” 

“You,” you start, grabbing your skates and moving out of the locker rooms. “Are gonna sit pretty in that sound booth and make sure nobody touches my laptop.”

“…you realise Hansol has security cameras right?”

“Are you planning on robbing my laptop?”

“No. Although it does have nice specs.” 

You ignore her as you walk towards the benches. “That stupid hockey team needs to know I have reinforcements of my own.”

Lorelai stands there, brows furrowed and in clothes that drown her. She glances down at her outfit and then back up at you. She deadpans, “This is the most unthreatening I have ever looked.”

“Just—” You stand up too quickly and feel yourself wobble. The railing is hardly a foot away, your hand moving over to grab it. Except your palms feel nothing but the flat of something smooth and hard, fingers bumping into the feeling of something unfamiliar. 

You manage to find your balance with a yelp, immediately snapping up to see where you missed the railing. The railing was still there, perfectly within arms reach. There’s a glare in your vision, like looking through a screen. Higher and higher, you realise quickly that you’ve been looking through a clear barrier so high up you can hardly find where it ends in its erect standing. 

Lorelai speaks up first, her voice resonating loudly, “Isn’t that supposed to be on the other side of the railing. Stupid, stupid Hansol.” 

It looks like it stretches throughout the circumference of the rink, wrapping whoever’s inside in a giant plastic fish bowl. 

There’s a clench in your jaw you can’t control, something a little more than annoyance building in your senses. It should be an easy thing to ignore, especially regarding its practically invisible nature, but its presence is all you can think about, even as you step your right blade onto the ice. 

Skating towards the middle of the rink, you feel claustrophobic. 

“Woah! You look like a zoo animal,” Lorealai adds unnecessarily. 

“Just play the track,” you grumble. 

“There should be a don’t tap on the glass sign,” she says, voice muffled as yells from the benches. “You already look like a weasel, can’t have confused people in the stands.” 

“Lorry!” 

“What?” she yells, her voice muffled as she yells from the benches. 

You curse the plastic that cages you as you yell louder, “Play the track!” 

Lorelai nods and makes a noise of understanding, and you watch her as she disappears into the sound booth. 

Taking your starting position, you wait for the quiet lull of the track before the beginning of the unmistakable piano; the low tremor in the beginning existing to prepare you to jump into the routine. You stand there with your arms out like a swan, waiting for your cue that won't seem to arrive. 

You almost yell out at Lorelai again before you suddenly hear the resonating shrill of the piano notes, startling yourself out of your first push. It’s fine, you’ll recover. You’re distracted by your staggered start and it’s enough to have you miss your first jump. It’s fine. You’ll recover. 

By the time the four minutes are up, you’ve missed two of your five jumps, a spin gone wrong, and nearly crashed into the plastic barrier. Not to mention, the aches in your body are enough to seem impossible to geographically pinpoint. 

It’s pointed, the way you make a beeline for the benches, refusing to look at Lorelai. You can almost imagine her expression, the poker face she has when she’s trying to think of ways to structure her next words nicely. 

“What was that?” she deadpans, voice a little far away. Your body hurts enough to take your focus away from her. 

“I don’t know.” 

“I thought your ankle was fine now?” she asks. 

You grit your teeth. “It is.” Lies. The way it was hurting you right now was making sure to remind you of that. 

“You know, you did pick back up a lot earlier than we thought—”

“I said I’m fine, Lorry,” you snap. “Now can you please play the track again.” 

You finally look up, and she looks like she wants to say something. But you’re on the ice before she can. 

You adapt to the excess muffle of the plastic barriers, ears straining to hear the beginning of the piano before you jump into the choreography smoother than last time. This time round, it’s better. The pain in your ankle and the budding one in your hip is apparent, but it’s suddenly easier to drown it out. Focusing on the music, keeping your centre of gravity, pushing into your jumps and spins with enough vigour to hold to what you are. 

Another four minutes pass and it’s over. Immediately, you swing over to the soundbooth to find Lorelai, only to find her joined by an extra set of people.

Impossibly, your blood runs cold. 

There’s a sneaking suspicion you know who it is despite the two men having their backs turned to you, especially judging by the obnoxious red jackets they have on. SVT. You can hear Lorelai speak indecipherably, her voice stern. 

“And you are?” one of them asks. You don’t recognise him, but you do the other one. The one who turned your music off the first day him and his team stepped foot in here. 

“Lorelai!” she yells it for no reason. 

“Gilmore?” The one you recognise snorts. Seungcheol, that’s what they called him the last time you saw him in the sound booth. 

“I’m worse,” she states. 

“Lorry?” you interrupt, arms crossed and gaze directed at her. 

“Lorry?” The one you don’t recognise says. “Like a truck?” 

“You think you’re funny?” Lorelai takes a step towards him, a fair attempt to look threatening if it weren’t for her very unthreatening attire. 

“Oh look at her pyjamas! It’s Pooh bear, Cheol,” he exclaims. That seems to irritate him. 

“Can you replay the track, please, I have to smooth things over,” you intervene. In your mind, ignoring their presence in your space was the best solution, refusing to give them a way to merge into your lane. 

“Woah, we have the rink booked today,” Seungcheol stops you. “4:30.”

Snapping around to find the clock on the adjacent wall, you read the time. “4:17. You can wait.”

He raises his eyebrows. “And thirteen minutes makes what difference?”

“You said 4:30. It is not 4:30 yet.”

The other one thumps him on the back, all smiles. “We can wait, right, Cheol? Besides, we have to put our skates on.” 

His gaze is hard and doesn’t leave yours. “Fine.” 

You break away first to find Lorelai still in the same position, staring at the exchange. You ignore the two men that stand there and address her, “Play the track.”

Before the music begins, you glance back to the benches where the two men have seated themselves, apparently strapping in to watch you. You dig your nails into your palm to reign yourself back in. No point in getting upset. 

The piano begins, and you're determined to not mess up. Especially not right now. 

It goes well for all of 45 seconds, you're hitting the right beats, you feel like water. But then the first jump comes along and you see a flash of red from the stands. An irrational feeling hits you as you push into the first jump, it’s enough to make you stumble when you land. You manage to not fall, but it’s obvious you’ve messed up. 

Somewhere beyond the music you hear a distinct, “Solid 4!”

It distracts you again, and you miss a move. Somehow your second jump ends up worse, and you feel your bottom hit the hard ice. 

“8 point 5! Nice!”

It doesn’t take long for you to realise what they’re doing, anger crashing into you like a flash flood. Scoring your falls? You’re determined to make the next jump combination. You make it fine, but your quad Salchow turns into a triple. The oafs are too shallow to notice, so you hear no jeer. 

But you know that you messed up the only quad in your entire program. 

The last jump goes from a triple axel to a double, and you want to break something. 

The song ends, and you know you have another nine minutes left to yourself, but all you can think about is getting out of the vicinity as soon as possible. Away from all of the eyes that are trained on your hunched form. 

There’s nothing you know about Seungcheol, and yet, the thought of him even looking at you right now is unbearable. Twice you fell, countless times you failed. 

Lorelai says nothing while you pack up, and nothing as you leave the rink. 

“CHOI SEUNGCHEOL, CENTER,” LORELAI reads aloud from your bed with her mouth still full of salt ‘n vinegar chips. 

“Perfect, he already thinks he’s the center of the universe,” you grumble from your position on the floor of the bedroom. Your foam roller feels like heaven under your calves, but the position is beginning to cramp. 

“Surprised you haven’t heard of him, he’s half a celebrity.” 

You turn to her, “I have two gold medals and five podiums for every major skating event.”

“Do I ask for your autograph?”

“He’s not special.”

“Hm. His skill and popularity would beg to differ.”

“Why are you so hellbent on liking him?” 

“Because he’s cute,” she grins wide. “Although the other one was cuter, very angel-like. And he liked my Pooh Bear trousers. Can’t find his name on the team roster though.”

“He was wearing the same stupid jacket—”

You’re cut off by a gasp, a loud one at that. “He coaches the babies!” 

Her face is contorted into something between an “aw” and a sob. 

Lorelai’s phone is dropped dramatically on the bed as she thrashes on your made (now unmade) bed. You swipe the phone and read. His picture is there, the name Yoon Jeonghan, Junior League Coach.

“Good for him.”

“He just got five times hotter,” she states like she’s out of breath. 

“Give it another meeting and he’ll give you five other reasons to hate him.”

“God, you’re so negative,” she huffs. 

“They’re hogging my rink!”

“It is not your rink.”

“It’s as good as!”

“Whatever.” Lorelai rolls her eyes and sets back on the bed, no doubt searching the man up by name. 

“Ow!” you yelp as you stand up from the ground, ankle twisting slightly in the process. 

Lorelai jumps. “What?”

“Nothing,” you mumble quickly, hoping she’d drop it. But she catches your lingering stare on your bad ankle. 

“It’s still hurting, isn’t it?”

“I just twisted it weird,” you defend, walking to pack up your foam rollers. 

You’re met with silence, but you know she’s thinking. Lorelai speaks, “Maybe you should skip out on the shelter today.”

You snort, “Why would I do that?”

Once, sometimes twice a week, you’d volunteer at the local pet shelter. It wasn’t hard work, mostly taking the bigger, more energetic dogs for their runs because it seemed you were the only one who could keep up with their stamina. And now Lorelai is trying to take that away from you. 

“I saw how you struggled at the rink today, there’s not a day you don’t rest. Like, actually rest.”

“That has nothing to do with me struggling!” you retort. 

“What is it then?” she asks, sitting up straighter, defiance in her gaze. “What is it that’s making you skate like you bought your first pair yesterday?”

The irritation is growing into something hotter, her defiance pushing you into a corner. 

“I know what you want to hear from me.” Your voice is shaky. “I’m not going to say it.”

“Because it’s not true? Or because you’ve been convinced it’s not?” 

You know what she’s talking about, and you know you’ve been avoiding the topic like it’s the plague. The ache in your ankle comes alive, and in that moment, you cannot tell if you’re imagining it or not. 

“Convinced by who?” you snap, shoving the box of foam rollers under your desk. 

“Does that have to come from me too?” 

“Lorry, I don’t know what you want from me!” 

“I—”

There’s a knock on your door, loud and demanding. Wrenching it open, you find Marina behind it. 

She has a frown on her face. “You’re still here? I thought you were running with the dogs today?”

“It’s none of your business if she goes or not, Marina.” Lorelai’s tongue drips with venom most commonly reserved for her most hated people. 

Marina, still in her workout clothes and duffel bag, furrows her eyebrows. “Who shoved a pole up your ass?” 

“I’m leaving in five,” you hiss, before making a motion to close the door. 

When you turn around, Lorelai is still on your bed, hands in fists like she’s holding herself back. There’s more behind her eyes than you could even consider unravelling. 

She leaves before you. 

THE ENTIRE WAY TO the rink was just one constant string of prayer. 

All of them go unanswered when you walk in to find the rink full of hockey players in red and black gear. 

The only thing you can do is curse under your breath, only watching frozen in your tracks as a million players skate across the rink passing and yelling at each other. No one you recognise, their helmets and gear eluding any semblance of individuality. 

Where you stand, a little ways away from the plastic screen and the benches, a dark circular puck suddenly slams directly into the boundary at eye level. On instinct, you flinch at the loud bang, half expecting to get hit. 

When you open your eyes, somebody’s skating up to the boundary, and you lock eyes through the cage of his helmet. 

Your blood is suddenly charged with something electric, fingers curling into fists on instinct. 

Suddenly, all that rings in your ears is the distinct jeers of numbers over the muffle of plastic as you continue to fall, and fall, and fall on the cold, unforgiving ice. The amusement in your failure, the joy in your defeat. 

Spinning on your heel, you stalk to Hansol’s office. 

In your blinding anger, you take a wrong turn, looking up to realise you’ve walked into the locker rooms. You’re one step into the men's locker room when you come back to your senses, startling yourself once again as you spin back from where you came, only you’ve been caught. 

For all the luck you’ve received in this life, it seems to opt out at that exact moment as you hear the unmistakable noise of a herd of ogres walking in, the glare of red on the walls surrounding them. Frozen in your spot, you can only grip the straps of your duffel bag harder, tense up like you were preparing for impact. When they turn the corner, the brilliant idea of simply walking towards the women’s locker rooms befalls you. But it’s too late. 

Seungcheol saunters into the hallway, leading the pack. 

His helmet is in his hands instead of on his head, revealing a sopping mop of hair drenched in what you can only imagine is sweat. He’s laughing at his teammate who’s making futile attempts to escape his own helmet, not noticing you in the way. 

Until he does. His smile fades immediately, eyebrows raised as he registers you in the doorway. You feel his gaze on you for a few silent moments, his teammates shushing at the shift in the air. Seungcheol opens his mouth, and you already know all that’s going to leave it is dung. “Didn’t realise the rink had a vacancy. Do I need to show you my ID to take a shower?”

A rustle of chortles and chuckles flitter from the group. “Go ahead. I don’t need an ID to tell you need a shower.”

Somebody ooh’s, despite it not being your best work. You suppose it was your delivery that did it. Deciding to continue riding that high, you simply turn towards the women’s locker rooms, refusing to give Seungcheol the luxury of your eyes on him.

Hurtling into the women’s locker room, you throw your duffel bag somewhere you’ll regret and crumple into one of the seats. You count to ten, attempting to take the image of Seungcheol out of your brain. 

It was difficult to rile you up to this extent, a trait you needed to possess if you were to be coached by Carroll in any capacity. There was so much you heard from her mouth, swallowing it like a prescribed pill and nothing more. Take what you were given, because it was given by the best, bought for you by the best.

Yet for some reason, Seungcheol manages to irk you in ways you previously have never encountered. Irritating people come and go, but you doubt you could place him as something as simple as just irritating. His presence felt like an intrusion, his air was thick like a concentrated gas. Everything he’s said to you so far has come from nothing but disdain and condescension, his haughty personality the only takeaway when he enters a room. 

You’re still in your outdoor shoes and jacket by the time twenty minutes are over, coming to a conclusion as you get up from the empty, soulless locker room. Hansol is in his office when you make the formality knock before barging in. His head is on the desk, like he’s asleep. It takes him a second, by he lifts his forehead from the papers on the tabletop to regard you at the door. You hear him sigh. 

“The hockey team’s done. It’s two.”

“I wanna book a slot.”

“The rink’s empty you don’t—”

“Let me book the slot, Hansol.”

“For fuck’s sake, you’re turning out worse than those baboons,” he curses before setting his forehead back onto the table. “Write it on the sticky note, I’ll put it in the schedule.”

“Now. I wanna book a slot for right now,” you grit. 

Hansol whips his head up again, eyes wide like he’s holding himself back, nodding furiously as he pulls his keyboard towards himself with an unnecessarily aggressive tug. “Fine. 2:16 till closing. Enter. Print. Here.”

He hands you the printed receipt of your slot, ripping it from the printer tray as he does it. You take it from him in the same vigour, hardly a thank you as you spin on your heels and walk out the door. You stop for a minute, turning back around to yell into the office. 

“Go home if you’re just gonna nap on your desk!” 

Not waiting for a response, you stalk towards the locker rooms. Within minutes you’ve tugged on your skates, laptop and shoes in each hand as you emerge out the tunnel to the rink. 

The ice is empty, mostly. Placing your laptop in the sound booth and your shoes under the benches, you step foot on the ice. They’re there, on the other end, sitting on the cold ice with their jerseys still on, eating what looks like cups of dippin dots. 

Seungcheol and Jeonghan, you remember from Lorelai’s squealing, either don’t notice you on the ice, or simply choose not to. Because it’s easy as you skate up to them, gaining speed from across the rink, you slide to a stop, sending a perfect spray of ice from your skates, directly into their ice cream cups. 

Seungcheol’s full spoon hangs mid air, halfway to his mouth, now garnished with ice shavings. 

“Thought you’d have the respect to keep the dippin dots out of this,” Jeonghan comments, disbelief in his eyes as he looks up at you. 

“Ice is booked.” 

“What time?” Seungcheol asks. Your gaze flickers to the left side of his face, a nasty bruise blooming purple and blue that you hadn’t noticed before. 

“2:16. It’s nearly fifteen minutes past.”

“You’re only one person.” He’s significantly more annoyed than when you saw him outside the locker rooms just minutes ago. 

“And?”

“And…you have about 97% of the rink to yourself.”

You raise your brows, hands on your hips. “But I booked 100% of it. So I’m gonna need that plane of ice you’re currently sitting on.” 

“What if I don’t move?” Seungcheol presses. It’s menacing, the way he looks at you, like he’s a lion only waiting to be provoked. Maybe he’s already halfway there, because it sure looks like it. 

“We’ll find out another day,” Jeonghan sings before you can snap back, grabbing onto the collar of Seungcheol’s red and white jersey to yank him up. He continues to glare as he obliges with his friend’s tugs, nearly as angry as you are. “Let’s go, sport.”

You watch as they walk to the exit of the ice, realising they’re wearing their shoes instead of their skates. 

Jeonghan calls from the benches, right before he and Seungcheol move out of view. “Trash those for us, would you?” 

Their half eaten dippin dots cups, with the ice now melting on them remains on the floor of the rink. Once again, the unexplainable urge to kick something befalls you, hearing them laugh and talk from far away as they exit the rink behind their long gone teammates. 

You give in, swinging a leg over to kick the cups and spoons, dippin dots and plastic scattering across the ice. It’s another sprawl of mess you’ll have to clean up, but it feels good to ruin something of his, no matter how inconsequential. The empty rink encourages you, needing to scream so loud the plastic barriers crack and break. You know it’s impossible, but that doesn’t stop the urge. 

You channel it into the most aggressive warmups on ice you’ve ever done. Your spins are faster, your jumps higher. But this also means you crash heavier, fall harder. It’s then, sitting on the bench to take a break, breathing so heavy you can hardly sip your water, you find an unmistakable headline on your browser home page. 

Everything stops. 

!HOT TOPIC! 

SEAT AT RISK FOR SVT HOCKEY TEAM’S SHINING STAR? Read All About It Here! 

!HOT TOPIC! 

SEAT AT RISK FOR SVT HOCKEY TEAM’S SHINING STAR? Read All About It Here! 

Choi Seungcheol’s seat for next season at risk? Insider reports that the hot headed center may be at risk of contract termination due to recent controversy. The hockey player, renowned for his aggressive playing tendencies, seems to be taking his temperament outside of the rink. Multiple games played by SVT have been subject to eventful halves and quarters, the center seen getting violent in the benches with opposing team members, and sometimes even team members of his own! While his short temper has always been a recurring subject in the news, his skills as a player have always remained top notch—we do wonder if he even has to try! The tables seem to turn a little differently this time around, because it looks that SVT higher ups have been fed up with the increasing reports of Choi’s aggressive behaviour. Insider sources report that talks of a contract termination may be coming into order. While he has proven to be an effective player on the ice, it seems as though it won’t be saving him from this particular ramification! 

Stay tuned, hockey fanatics, as we bring you more updates on Choi’s sticky situation! 

BEFORE EVERYTHING, BEFORE YOUR ankle, before it began to feel like your world was crumbling at your feet, came the scar on your leg. 

In hindsight, it feels like it was the very thing that set the ball rolling, the beginning of your demise. 

Coach Carroll was only on her first handful of sessions with you, Lorelai and Marina, all of you still learning her quirks and expectations as a coach. 

It happened when you were on the sidelines, hanging over the boundary as Lorelai handed you a water bottle from the benches. Marina was practicing her routine, taking up most of the ice as Coach followed on the side. It seemed unclear, to this day, whether you’d drifted inwards on the ice as you sipped from the bottle, unaware. But when you felt the hot searing pain in your calf, there were only two people on the scene. 

Marina skated past, her free leg in the air, meeting your calf as she skated past, effectively slicing into your leg in a deep gash. Blood was wiped off the ice, your leg bandaged and wrapped. Not without Coach and her comments, of course. 

You heard her berate Marina from the other room, for moving closer to the boundary than what was required for her routine, heard the way she gave her the blame. And then she round up on you. 

“Idiot! No reason to be on the ice when you aren’t practicing, did you want it to be your ankles too?!” 

It was the first time you realised that Carroll was beyond your perception of the word demanding, her gaze remained in a high place, no regard for what it took to get there. Even if it meant destroying her skaters. 

Marina apologised. “I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t see you there, I would’ve dropped my leg—”

“It’s okay, Marina. Really,” you smiled through the still aching wound. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

She smiled a little too, “Lesson learned, I guess. Don’t loiter on the ice.” 

It was difficult to keep the smile from fading as you heard her say that.

“What shit apology is that?!” Lorelai yelled as soon as you mentioned it to her later. You cringe as you realise what slipped, and to whom it slipped to. 

“It’s the best I’m gonna get from her, Lorry. Honestly, I don’t care.”

“You’re out of service for a week till that slice heals and that’s all she has to give you?” 

Lorelai is breathing heavily, mostly because she’s been practicing her triple axels for her routine, but also because she’s extensively heated for you. You watch her from the benches. 

“Lorry,” you sigh. 

“Listen, I wanna win too but—”

“Are you trying to say she did it on purpose?” you ask. 

“No! Let me finish, woman,” she snaps. “I wanna win, you wanna win. We’re doing everything we can because we want to win—”

“So this was a subconscious attack?” you interject. 

“Fuck this, I’m leaving,” Lorelai begins to skate backwards and away, leaving you on the bench. 

“NO! Wait, okay, I’m sorry I won’t interrupt.”

“Too late.”

“Lorry! Lorelai!”

It wasn’t until you were back in your shared apartment, Marina out doing whatever while Lorelai hijacked your bed that she got to finish her sentence. She was rubbing ointment on a bruise while you changed the  bandage on your calf. 

“Her need to win is ruining her. And it’s like she’s taking us down with her. I know she doesn’t mean it like that, doesn’t want to hurt us. But she thinks this kind of hurt is good, if it’s the kind of hurt that pushes you to win.”

You cringed at the sight of the wound, still red and ugly. 

“She might not have meant to hurt your leg, but—don’t loiter on the ice? Really?”

“She only meant it as a reminder.”

“Exactly! You don’t need that reminder because I think you’ve learned better than anyone else to not stay on the rink when someone is practising. A couple weeks ago she made some stupid comment because I left the gym early. Nothing inherently rude, she’s never actually rude. But it was pointed anyway. I’ve been up since six in the morning I think I deserve slacking off a little, it was nearly midnight for fuck’s sake!” 

Cleaning the wound was taking everything you had, the need to hiss at the contact of the wet cloth was near abominable. 

“Her…her perception’s a little warped. But her heart’s in the right place!”

Lorelai had rolled her eyes, screwing the cap of her ointment tube back on with unnecessary force. “I never said it wasn’t, just—stop defending her! I’m sorry but half the reason she continues to act like this is because you listen to her.”

At that moment, you felt a little offended. Of course, Marina had her moments where she’d say something a little less than healthy, especially coming from a friend. But you’d always thought you handled it better than most. 

You met Marina when you were still only splotchy faced preteens, during a competition where she came second and you came third. She’d been skating for longer, so it was expected, but you also couldn’t conceal your surprise when you’d found the state of her later on. You were ecstatic simply because you managed to make it to the podium, but it seemed Marina’s tears held another thought process for her. 

You found her crying in the locker rooms later on, her coach who looked like she…should’ve been comforting her, but it was more like a stern talking to, to suck it up and work harder next time round. 

When you tried to help her, out came words you felt oh so strange coming from a stranger. “What do you know? You came third!”

It hurt. Possibly the first genuine stab of the feeling you’d ever felt. In the following weeks, when Marina apologised and you’d begun to build a friendship, you felt something peculiar. Practice sessions on the ice became harder, your two hour sessions were suddenly extending to four, sometimes five hours a day. All of it, your own doing. 

It was subconscious when it was happening, the silent tug of You came third! What you first considered an achievement became an intermediate step. 

If there was anywhere that you’d pinpoint the shift, from when figure skating went from fun to a responsibility, you’d pick that exact moment. When someone congratulated you later on, it wasn’t a big smile and a thank you.

“I only came third.”

Your calf healed and all that was left was a scar, but there in the discolouration of your skin, also lay a realisation. 

SEUNGCHEOL HOSTS ABSOLUTELY ZERO thoughts in his mind as he shoves the collar of his hoodie over his head. Slamming the door shut on the rest of his red SVT paraphernalia, he makes quick work of his hair, shoes on and out the door within the minute. Jeonghan is still fast asleep when he leaves, mouth open and drooling onto his pillow when Seungcheol walks into his room to let him know he’s leaving. 

Jeonghan might tag along to practice for the fun of it despite leaving his competitive hockey career behind him, but his distaste for 6 AM practice remains forever unchanged. He’d see him later though, on the rink lingering once the sun is higher in the sky and Jeonghan deems it less of a sin to be awake. 

Seungcheol leaves without a response from his friend. 

By the time he gets to the rink, most of the team has already geared up. The locker room is splotched with red, moving towards the back of the room to get to his own locker. They weren’t assigned, but he liked to have his claim. He had one in the old rink, the one locker everyone knew was his. And now he has one here, despite the temporary nature of the ordeal. The rest of the boys know to steer clear, as does he for the others who have their lucky spots. 

Mingyu bumps into his shoulder when Seungcheol is looking down, immediately whipping around to bow a full ninety degrees. He’s laughing as he apologises, not really sorry, but Seungcheol is too exhausted to humour him too much. 

He’d been up playing games all night, under the covers in the dark, his phone brightness up too high and his eyes too wide open. He could feel the regret when his alarm blared while it was still dark outside, his eyelids stuck together, refusing to open. It cost him fifteen minutes of warming up, but he’d make it somehow. 

Seungcheol can hear coach Mason’s booming voice from outside, moving closer and closer to hustle the rest of the boys out onto the rink. He shoves his foot into his skates, making sure all that’s left is to lace them up. 

“Look alive, boys! I want you on the ice within the minute,” he booms into the locker room. 

Seungcheol doesn’t look up. When he gets up to leave the locker rooms, his hockey stick and helmet in hand, he’s the last straggling few to leave. Chan earns himself a hard thump on the back from Coach as he scurries out. 

There’s a hand on Seungcheol’s chest as he’s about to exit, Coach stopping him from leaving. 

He looks up, expecting a hard look from Mason, ready to hear a mildly violent threat about being late to call time again. Except Seungcheol finds him with his own gaze on the floor. 

“Rink manager said I could use his office. We should talk there.”

Seungcheol could’ve said he knows what this was going to be about. The game last weekend had less than ideal results, not because they didn’t win, but more so because of the WWE level brawl that went down in the benches during one of the intermissions. 

He tenses, but it was more like he was squaring up. His shoulders are hard, his grip on his hockey stick tighter. Of course, he wasn’t about to swing at his coach, but one could say it was simply a subconscious response. 

The entire walk to the office, Seungcheol thinks of new ways Coach could address his issue. But the gist was always simple. 

Choi, stop fucking fighting. 

He’d usually just rip Seungcheol a new one in front of the boys, berate him and verbally throttle him in the hopes that he’d keep his anger under check. But as they turn towards the door to the office, Seungcheol has to remind himself that this was a first. Being led aside, like he was being led into some formal meeting. 

A plea deal, perhaps?

Choi, what is it going to take?

The office is barren, hardly looks like it’s used with how sparse the equipment is. The amount of dark brown gives it enough warmth to not make it look like some sick form of solitary confinement. That doesn't stop Seungcheol from feeling a hint of pity for whoever has to work here. There’s no nameplate. 

Coach doesn’t take a seat, opting to lean against the table in front of him instead. His arms are folded, and he’s not looking him in the eye. A crawl of suspicion creeps up Seungcheol’s neck, as though in an attempt to ambush him. 

It’s silent in the room as he waits for Coach to speak, refusing to be the one to break it. 

When he does speak, it’s not in his usual Coach voice. Without the built in bass and tremors he was born with. 

“There’s no easy way to break this,” he starts, eyes drifting up to somewhere on the barren walls. “But I’m gonna try my darndest.”

Finally, he feels Coach’s gaze lock with Seungcheol’s expecting pair. 

“They wanna drop you.”

“What?”

Coach squeezes his eyes shut, like he’s recalibrating. “Your contract is up by the end of the season. And the tie wearers and the shoe shiners don't wanna re-sign you.”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean don’t wanna re-sign me, on what grounds?!”

“You’re temperament—”

“I’ve scored at least two goals for every game you’ve put me in, I’m your most consistent player!”

“They have no qualms with you when you’re on the ice.”

Seungcheol knows where this is going. He knows what knocked up alley this is turning to and he hates it. “Which is all that should matter.”

“In most cases.”

“Is this about last weekend? You didn’t hear him, he deserved more than a broken fucking nose—”

“I didn’t need to hear him, because I know. I know he’s a jackass, I know they’re all jackasses! They know that too. You need to learn to let things go, let them chirp—”

“He was coming on to my mother!” Seungcheol bellows, now properly angry. He remembers the guy’s name, Jason or something. 

“His coach came onto my entire bloodline when we were young, this is Kim’s strategy! You’re playing right into their hands like a dog! For fuck’s sake, Choi! Punching someone in the chiclets isn’t always the answer!” Coach Mason is shaking his hands in front of him like some violent prayer. 

Seungcheol drops his hockey stick and helmet, mouth open as he huffs and puffs. He wants to pace, wants to point his fingers at Coach and make a few threats of his own. 

“Just—”

Seungcheol rounds up on him. “Seungkwan punched a guy in the mouth. Wonwoo kicked one in the balls.”

“Seungcheol. This is becoming nearly. Every. Single. Game. Not the occasional tousle we can pull people out of. You can’t keep sending people to the hospital, it’s a wonder nobody's pressed charges yet!”

“So that’s it? I’m being punished because some dick runs his mouth?” 

“This is about you, Seungcheol. You need to get a fucking grip. You’ve started picking at your own teammates, shoving Mingyu around—seriously?”

Seungcheol’s mouth opens but nothing leaves it. He ends up gaping like a fish. 

For all that it was worth, for everything he’d been through, Seungcheol always assumed his seat was safe. Always assumed he’d have the position he does. Because he showed results, won them nearly every game and put up a damn good fight in the ones they didn’t. 

Seungcheol knew he was an asset, but not for one minute, stop to realise that this was all

conditional. 

For everything he did for this team, for every fiber of his being he poured into its chalice, they were spitting it all right back into his face. Chewed and warped and rid of anything worth salvaging. 

The red in his chest, back, stomach, spelling out the unmistakable letters of his team. The red in his helmet that rests beside the red in his hockey stick. 

“Listen, as much of a pain in the ass you are, you’re good fucking player. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s all that matters. But it’s not up to me, so we need to work around that. They’re worried about the repercussions of your behaviour. And you are gonna make sure you keep yourself in check.” 

Coach walks closer, finger digging into Seungcheol’s chest through his jersey. “I want no more fights, no more kicking and punching and swearing no matter how much that motherfucker deserves it, I don’t care. Do whatever it takes. God knows I’ll never forgive you if you make me agree to those prissy hands in suits.”

Coach left Seungcheol in the barren office, stepping over his stick and helmet as he exited the room, leaving him alone. His fingers flex under his gloves, like he’s trying to remind himself to stay in the moment. His exhales are stronger than his inhales, his vision blurring as the desk turns into two, and then disappears for a second. 

He can hear the distinct sound of the puck slamming into hockey sticks. Practice had started. By the time Seungcheol walks out, he’s the last person to go through the mandatory drills. 

The rink is mostly empty as the team gears up for a practice match, leaving Seungcheol enough reign to slam into every puck like he had some personal vendetta against every last one. It’s one after the other, sent directly into the open net, waiting. 

Practice goes fine, as good as it could go with the scrambled eggs that had become of Seungcheol’s mental state. He found himself whipping his head around to Jun when he fumbled an assist, face scrunched under his helmet as he prepared to send him to hell in a handbasket. 

He sees Jun physically tense up in defense, and the insult (for once) dies on Seungcheol’s tongue. 

“Just—keep up, alright,” he says instead. His tone is empty, and on a downward slope. 

If anyone finds it odd, they don’t say. 

It’s a couple more hours of passes, assists and hollers across the ice, regrouping the teams every so often to keep the rotation consistent. 

Over here, everyone is in red, everyone is on his side. The bleachers are empty, devoid of spectators to watch him lose his cool on anything. But he thinks of the way Jun recoiled, like he was preparing for the worst of his teammate’s words. He and Jun are friends. 

Somewhere amidst his thoughts, the puck flies directly into Seungcheol’s face, banging into the cage of his helmet with a noise that resonates across the rink. He’s startled enough to skate back a little, not before hearing another resounding thwack! from next to him. The puck rebounded from his helmet and hit the plastic barrier with a noise that had everyone looking over. 

Skating up to where the puck fell back onto the ice, he looks up to where it hit the barrier. 

Through the plastic he sees…you. You're staring at the same spot he is, where there’s a slight mark from the force of the rubber. 

And then your eyes drift up, locking with his own. 

Like every other person he’s around, he watches you tense up. But it’s laced with something more than just bracing for impact. 

It’s apprehension, your form turbulent and agitated. It’s all he can see when you spin on your heels and walk away in the opposite direction from him. 

The all too familiar irritation sparks in the back of Seungcheol’s mind, as it does when you’re around. All he does is slam his stick into the ice with force, pushing the puck back into the middle of the rink. 

They’re nearly done by that point, and he finds that Jeonghan has graced himself in the benches. He’s wearing his old jersey, likely because he doesn’t want Coach to notice him and accuse him of distracting his players. 

Jeonghan would’ve gotten away with it anyway. 

Seungcheol tells him to wait up, walking towards the locker room with the rest of the rest of the team to wash up. He finds some reprieve in Seungkwan’s attempts at fumbling with his helmet, letting out a laugh as he fights with it. Looking up as they take the turn towards the locker rooms as a group, he somehow finds himself in your presence, again. 

It’s the same thing, like you’ve been connected to a faulty circuit and you’re trying not to show it. You look like you want to say something but all Seungcheol can do is send a snarky remark of his own. 

Even as you walk away after the ordeal, he feels anything but settled. 

It’s like the world has it out for him, because as he opts to stalk back to where Jeonghan was, forgoing a shower, there’s only another calamity waiting for him. 

Jeonghan is in the rink, sitting on the ice with two cups of what looks like dippin dots. He looks up when he hears his treads on the ice, having taken his skates off already. Seungcheol crumples to the ground and on the ice next to his friend. 

The first words he utters are the only ones that’ve been on his mind all day. “They want to drop me.”

Jeonghan only grimaces in response, only running his hands through his hair as he sighs loudly. “I know. I heard.”

Seungcheol perks up, head lifting from the ice. “...How?”

That’s how Seungcheol has Jeonghan’s phone so close to his face he’s hardly an inch away from the screen. He reads and reads and reads. And his blood boils and boils and boils. 

!HOT TOPIC! 

SEAT AT RISK FOR SVT HOCKEY TEAM’S SHINING STAR? Read All About It Here! 

Choi Seungcheol’s seat for next season at risk? Insider reports that the hot headed centre may be at risk of contract termination due to recent controversy. The hockey player, renowned for his aggressive playing tendencies, seems to be taking his temperament outside of the rink. Multiple games played by SVT have been subject to eventful halves and quarters, the center seen getting violent in the benches with opposing team members, and sometimes even team members of his own! While his short temper has always been a recurring subject in the news, his skills as a player have always remained top notch—we do wonder if he even has to try! The tables seem to turn a little differently this time around though, because it looks that SVT higher ups have been fed up with the increasing reports of Choi’s aggressive behaviour. Insider sources report that talks of a contract termination may be coming into order. While he has proven to be an effective player on the ice, it seems as though it won’t be saving him from this particular ramification! 

Stay tuned, hockey fanatics, as we bring you more updates on Choi’s sticky situation! 

Of course, to add to the absolute media pandemonium, you had shown up on the rink itself after Seungcheol had to read through the entirety of that stupid article. Jeonghan was smart to pull him away from the situation before he wrapped both his hands around your neck in an ultimatum. 

The way you stood there, hip popped like you owned the damn place, face haughty and demanding. You stood while they sat, looking down at Seungcheol like he was some pesky ant. There was nothing he would’ve rather done in that moment than swing his leg clean across your ankles, and watch in delight as you crash onto the ice in front of him. 

“What the fuck is her problem?” he grits as soon as he’s in the locker rooms. Collecting his things to leave and take a shower at home. 

Jeonghan walks behind him, hands in his pocket in idleness as he watches his friend pack up. He’s humming a tune that’s possibly too familiar to Seungcheol. “Hm. She does seem a little wound too tight.”

“Wound too tight?! I’ve seen her thrice just today and every single time she looks like she wants to skin my fucking hide!”

Jeonghan only snorts. “Thing two isn’t any better. She’s cute though.”

Seungcheol whips around. “Who gets that territorial over a sound booth?!”

“Down, boy,” Jeonghan soothes, half in jest. “Surprised she isn’t here today either.”

“Yeah, you’d like to see her.”

“I would, actually, yes. What was her name?”

“Something to do with a train or a bus or something—”

“Lorry! Right,” Jeonghan furrows his brows. “I don’t think that’s her real name.”

Seungcheol throws his duffle bag over his shoulder as he motions he’s done. “I don’t think anyone who actually loves their child would name them after a bus.”

Jeonghan halts in his steps. “My dead dog’s name was Lorry.”

Seungcheol is extra nice for the rest of the way home. 

SEUNGCHEOL CAN'T SLEEP.

His dreams are full of voices, of every single teammate he’s ever had. The junior league, his high school team, up to his college team, and finally, his team right now. 

They’re all murmuring like they were paid to do it, uttering the same things, over and over. He doesn’t belong here, they don’t want him here, he doesn’t deserve what he has. 

And with the way his heart is racing when he jolts awake, cold sweat and all, he realises he’s kicked his blanket off of him sometime during the night. He looks over to his alarm clock that glares bright in the dark of his room; 5:08 AM.

He doesn’t need to be up, but it seems his own subconscious has given him a good enough scare to make sure every last essence of sleep escapes him. He lays on his back, catching his breath like he just ran a marathon. 

Seungcheol hasn’t woken up from a nightmare like this since middle school, one that knocks the breath from his lungs and fills his head with all the horrible things in the world. With every moment that passes after that conversation with Coach Mason, his ordeal becomes increasingly real. 

In that moment, laying in his bedroom, staring blankly at the dark ceiling above, he wonders if he’s made the right choice to come this far. 

With all the confidence he’s exuded, the thought is downright terrifying. 

Seungcheol was a difficult child. Too much energy, too much to say, too much to do. His parents didn’t know the first thing about hockey, just that it involved enough hitting and running and practice to let their son let out all that pent up energy, so maybe, just maybe, he’d sit still and do his homework. While they attempted to sign him up at the local rink, he was already zooming out towards the benches to see the fabled giant block of ice his parents told him about. 

And there it was, just like in the movies, a giant expanse of ice that made him shiver even in his thick Winnie The Pooh puffer vest. There’s sounds, loud ones, of deep clacks that echo across the rink. It seems to be coming from the dozens of people skating on the rink, decked out in red gear. 

SVT, he reads on their jerseys. 

His mother chides him for straying when they finally find him near the gate, watching the team practice. The rink manager is there as well, showing his parents around. 

“The SVT’s practice here and have a junior league too, but I’m afraid it’s full. But our coach is great too, I’m sure he’ll do well.”

Seungcheol’s parents didn’t mind, but he wanted those jerseys, wanted his name in red splashed across his back as he glided across the ice. 

It didn’t take long for his coach and his parents to realise that putting him in a helmet was a good idea. He was smoking the rest of the kids from day one, his balance on the ice better than any other his age, his hold on a hockey stick like second nature, his aim as he hit his first puck, dazzling. 

As he got older, entering his preteen and teen years, he had another realisation. That he was as horrible at school as he was good at hockey. 

“Perhaps you should take a break from hockey,” his high school guidance counsellor had said. His grades were displayed in front of her like a case study, the hopeless clear in her intermittent sighs and the occasional purse of her lips. “Utilise that time to fix at least one of your grades. Pour all your eggs in one basket.”

The thought was absurd. No, he would not be dropping hockey when it was the only thing that pushed him to wake up in the morning. 

He’d felt the tremble of irritation rise in himself, sitting there in that office. It angered him, made him feel like his success was measured by a criteria not made for him. He had said nothing as he slipped out of chair and left the room. 

The day before his graduation, sweat dripping onto the ice as he sent free pucks into the net, he was missing more than he was getting in. It was making him more mad than it should, hands shaking with fury as he berated himself for not being able to succeed in something so simple.

His last puck was before him, and he swung his stick harder than ever and watched as it flew directly into the net. The sound is louder than usual, resonating across the rink. Seungcheol looked down at the detached pieces in his hand and quickly realised that he’d effectively broken his hockey stick.

It wasn’t expensive, so the quality wasn’t nearly what it should be, wasn’t nearly as durable. But this was new to him. He’d never broken a stick before. 

Anger. Perhaps that was what he'd forgone, perhaps that was what he needed. To get on his knees from his back, to get on his feet from his knees. 

When he graduated the next day, Seungcheol knew what he was going to do with his life. Finally had an answer for the infinite questions about his future. 

Hockey. Seungcheol was going to play hockey for the rest of his life. He was going to get into SVT, he was going to become the best player they’ve ever had. He was going to make more money than what he would have as a doctor or a lawyer or whatever else the entire world wanted him to do instead. 

Seungcheol was going to be on the ice wearing red if it’s the last thing he does. 

That’s what pushes him out of bed at 8:45 in the morning, his dream that was once in his hands now flitting through the gaps of his fingers. 

The anger that pushed him here, was now pushing him out. 

He packs his things and leaves the house, welcoming the cold of the outdoors. 

There’s the distinct sound of blade cutting through ice when he gets nearer to the rink itself, a shout of a shrill voice he can’t decipher. Official practice doesn’t start for another couple hours, and he doesn’t remember Coach Mason cutting the pitch in his voice for anything ever. There’s only one other person that could possibly be gracing the rink.

Seungcheol finds three people on the rink. The bright red curly mop of hair catches his eye first, her arms folded over her green puffer jacket, apprehension in her entire posture. He assumes this is your coach. 

There’s a blonde one breathing heavily as she straightens out of a spin, listening to the coach as she shakes her head violently as she speaks. 

Seungcheol finds you a little ways away from the pair, practising jumps. 

He doesn’t emerge into the benches, remaining in the shadows where he wouldn’t be so blaringly obvious. There’s no reason for him to hide, but he doesn’t think of this as hiding. 

Seungcheol watches for the next few minutes, watches you make most of your jumps, fall for some. Your coach shouts for particular names for jumps, something about axels and lutz’ that he can’t tell the difference from when put into action. At least he thinks that’s what you’re doing. 

And then he hears it as your coach moves closer to the barriers. “What’s gotten into you? Keep acting this stupid and I’ll excuse myself from the job, I have better people to coach.”

Her tone, her words, the sharp edge of her tongue, it’s all triggering a very specific part of Seunghceol’s brain. 

“Is it your ankle? Because if it is, then I’m here to tell you to get out of your own head. Your ankle is fine, you wouldn’t be able to get on the ice at all if it wasn’t.” 

There it comes. Those words aren’t directed towards Seungcheol, nor could they apply to him in any capacity. But the way this coach is speaking is making him irrationally angry. 

“Are you gonna keep pretending you have a handicap? Because if you are then I have no work here.”

“I’m sorry.” 

For whatever reason, the sound of you apologising makes the fire rage doubly. It’s enough to blur his vision, enough to make him question what on earth this coach could have on you to let her speak to you in that way. 

The choice words are already in his head as he claps back in his own head, like he was the one at the receiving end. 

He doesn’t stay, disappearing even further into the tunnel to where the locker rooms are. He doesn’t understand why he’s huffing and puffing as much as he is. All that occupies him is what possible reasons you could have to just take it lying down. 

Seungcheol’s phone vibrates in his pocket, slipping it out to realise it’s Jeonghan. 

He picks up, and barely has time to say hello before his voice perks up from the other line. “Where are you?” He sounds like he just woke up. 

“I’m at the rink.”

“Why is your angry voice on?”

“My angry voice is not—” he begins to grit, seething, but closes his eyes and takes a moment. “I’m not mad.”

“Do I need to sing?”

“No, you do not have to sing—”

“Everything is honey—”

“Jeonghan, stop!”

“—everywhere I see—”

Seungcheol hangs up before he can go on. To his utmost irritation, he feels significantly calmer. 

The rink is devoid of your red headed coach when Seungcheol makes his way there after a few minutes. The blonde one is nowhere to be seen, leaving you alone in the rink as you skated across the expanse. He only watches as you land the couple attempts at jumps, the ice breaking ground in a spray every time you put pressure on your blades. 

Seungcheol is just standing there, blank faced with an empty head. His mind was quiet for the first time since he’d woken up that morning. 

He doesn’t know what he’s doing there, standing idle as he follows your figure around the rink like a fixation point. 

The sound is more consistent, less of the loud jabs of hockey sticks meeting the ice, more constant lines of scraping as you migrate across the rink. The speakers boom no sound, but the musicality in the noise of the ice is enough to imagine a rhythm. 

No part of him desires getting on the ice to oust you out, no part of him wants to touch his hockey stick that sits in the locker room. He doesn’t need extra practice, not with hockey at least. 

And when you notice him, unmoving in the benches, he watches as something hard overcomes your expression. You skate over, and he keeps his gaze fixated on the ice.

Skating up to the gate, he sees in his peripheral vision as you slip on your skate guards, stepping out into the real world. 

“You don’t have the rink booked, I checked,” you huff, moving to find your things on the other set of benches. 

Seungcheol’s jaw tenses. “I don’t want the rink right now.”

“And yet the ghost loiters.”

“I’m here to tell you to start filling in the stupid craters your skates make in the ice. The guys keep tripping.” 

“You big hockey thugs getting defeated by a toe pick?” 

Seungcheol turns to finally look at you, and you look nothing as graceful as you did on the ice. He wants to scoff. 

You continue, “I have to deal with your stupid barriers fucking up my sound system. I think your guys can deal with a couple digs in the ice.” 

“Great, we’ll just lose a couple teeth, who really gives a fuck.” 

“If this is about giving fucks,” you get up from your water break, leaving the bench. “Do me a favour and forget your mouth guard next time. Let the puck punch you in the mouth if I can't."

Seungcheol’s entire being is ablaze. He reshuffles his footing. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem?” you repeat, voice moving a pitch higher. “My fucking problem is that you and your overgrown posse of baboons drop in here out of the blue and then act like you own the damn place!”

“Right, because it’s your name on the fucking lease. Excuse us for trespassing on public property!”

You’re yelling. Seungcheol is yelling. It’s either that or the hollow of the rink is now carrying your voices farther out. 

“I’ve had enough of you acting like you don’t take up this entire fucking space!” Your arms wave wildly, gesturing to the large area of the rink. “You’re everywhere, all the fucking time, it’s sickening!”

“Everywhere, huh?” He takes a step closer to you. And then another. He revels in the sight of your face turning a splotchy red. “Thought I was only a bother on the ice? Where else have I been plaguing you in mystic hallucinations?”

Seungcheol’s eyes give away nothing but provocation. He knows he didn’t start this, but in the true essence of who he is, he would be the one to end it. 

It’s clear you’re taken aback. At this moment, he’s the closest he’s ever been to you. But it’s for nothing if it isn’t to press on you further, to tower over you and your outburst. 

“Get your head out of the gutter, you brute.”

“Then is it not me taking up all your space?” he asks. “Because there’s three feet of air between us, and yet the least in our very short time together.”

He watches as you take a small step back.

“So where else have I been any closer, so consistently, if it wasn’t part of your imagination?”

There’s a certain kind of venom in your stare, in the sneer that lifts your mouth, enough to ensure that it’d render him six feet deep. But he lives in reality, so he deems it safe to take another step closer. 

“You’re a screw up,” you almost whisper. Appalled and scandalised. 

“So I’ve been told,” Seungcheol breathed. “But something tells me we’re not so different in that department.”

“You don’t know a thing about me.”

“I know that I’m all you can think about,” he says, eyebrows raised. “That feels like a lot. You’d agree, because everywhere, all the fucking time is a lot.” 

Seungcheol has hardly finished his sentence before he feels the light breeze of you gathering your few things, shouldering him hard and walking away from him. Into the tunnel, into the locker rooms, into hell, wherever it was that you ended up by the close of the day. 

He isn’t afraid to admit that he stumbled.

LORELAI HAD MADE IT quite clear that any figure skating talk was off the table, and talk surrounding Marina even more so. You tried not to point out the obvious predicament, but the fact that you lived with Marina did not affect her demand. 

Miraculously, not talking about skating or Marina was the most free you’d felt in ages. It was mildly embarrassing in the beginning, when on a run with Lorealai who was also helping out at the dog shelter, because you realised all you talked about was, maybe not Marina, but definitely a lot of skating. 

You slow down a little to give Kkuma a couple minutes to breathe, but Lorealai is still running at her pace with her significantly more energetic husky, Bennie. 

“Stay there, I’ll catch up!” she yells over her shoulder as she takes the left around the block to circle back. 

You oblige, moving to a walking pace as Lorelai appears from behind you after a couple minutes. She slows to a jog and loiters around you for a minute, you increase your speed to match hers. 

“Jeonghan…” she pauses to take a breath. But your interest is piqued, especially if she was talking about the same Jeonghan you were thinking about. “Jeonghan invited me to the game this weekend.”

Hold. 

“What?” you snap.

“Game. This weekend,” she huffs, still breathing heavily. 

“Like, a hockey game?” you ask, brows furrowed. 

“No, for disney on ice,” she announces. “They’re doing beauty and the beast, Jeonghan’s the beauty, Seungcheol is the beast. It’s a whole production, really. Real good stuff.”

You can only roll your eyes at the elaborate sarcasm. She continues, “Of course, it's a hockey game! What else do they do at that rink all day?”

“Gosh, sorry,” you frown. “Since when do you talk to Jeonghan?”

She looks over, wicked smile on her face. “Since I found him on Instagram.”

“You followed him?”

“No, why would I do that? Bumped into him at the gym a while ago, and we went out for coffee afterwards.”

Nothing of the ordeal is making sense, your brows still knit together and your mouth downturned in confusion. 

“Catch you in a minute!” she yelps as she takes off into a run again, Bennie right next to her as she circles round again. 

The few minutes that it’s just you and tiny Kkuma are flooded with questions. How did she just bump into Jeonghan? Lorelai hardly goes to the gym. Asking her to come to the hockey game? 

And then worst of all. 

Are they dating? 

By the time Lorelai is back, she’s out of breath again, and fully unequipped to answer all of the questions you shoot at her like rapid fire. 

“Why were you at the gym? He’s a junior league coach, he’s not even gonna be playing!”

“God!” she groans, heaving. “Slow…down.”

“Fine!” You stop in your tracks entirely, to which Lorelai is happy to oblige as she crouches with her hand on her knees. Bennie tugs at her leash, the big bounding ball of fluff ready to race the winds again. 

You count to ten, hands on your hips as Kkuma lets out a small, confused yip now that you’re completely idle on the track. 

“Talk.” 

With an all too dramatic flip of her short hair, she pulls herself up and into an explanation. “I couldn’t tell you because we weren’t talking when it all happened.”

It’s true, it did take a while for you to go back to normal after that run in with Marina in your bedroom. You suppose it won’t be happening again with the new no-Marina-talk rule, since she seemed to be quite the common factor in many of your rifts over the years. 

“I went to the gym to blow off some steam—don’t look like that, I’m being serious!” 

You make an attempt at fixing your face as she continues. 

“He saw me first and came up to say hi. Went our separate ways but once we finished up he asked if I wanted to grab a coffee since we were both done working out.” 

“And you said yes?”

“I said yes. Because he is cute, and I had been stalking his very public Instagram and it was just the perfect opportunity!” 

“So you’re dating?” you ask sharply. 

“I don’t know.”

“He asked you to the game?” you point out. 

“Well, yes, but he hasn’t asked me asked me.” Somewhere in her voice there’s the tiniest hint of disappointment. “Besides, he said to bring you as well.”

“Fuck no.”

“Come ooon! Jeonghan’s gonna be in the benches and I don’t know anyone else there!” she whines. 

“Hey, we should switch dogs!” you announce as you yank Bennie’s leash out of Lorelai’s hands, stuffing  Kkuma’s leash into her free hand. 

You take off into a sprint, and Bennie is happy to keep up with you as you quite literally run away from the situation. Lorelai is yelling your name, her annoyance abundant. 

Ignoring her is easy. Just the thought of walking into one of those games is enough to force a scoff, to watch your rink inhabited with like minded buffoonery as they ruin the bleachers and the ice. 

By the time you make it back, the hilarity of the situation hasn’t left you. And it seems neither has Lorelai, who remains standing with Kkuma at her feet, waiting to trap you. 

It’s the easiest thing to do, to turn right back around and circle the other way. 

“You can’t run away from me forever!” she shouts behind you as you disappear again. 

Maybe you couldn’t, but you wouldn’t go down without a fight. 

“You can’t run away from Seungcheol forever! Quit pretending like you aren’t dying to fall into those giant arms!” Lorelai has a very specific talent of injecting all the drama in the world in the tone of her voice. She’s sure to utilize that skill as she hollers after you. 

That seems to do it for you, slowing down, half ready to whip around and holler a profanity or two right back. 

You’re more triggered than usual, but mostly because all the jab does is remind you of the last time you saw him. The arrogance in his demeanor, the way he belittled you with just his eyes, the shadow of his towering frame, caging you like a lost animal. 

You hated it. Despised it. Despised him. His disgusting innuendos, the all so misleading innocence on his face as he cornered you with both his body and his words. 

Lorelai could deal you whatever card there was tied up her sleeve, but getting you anywhere near the rink for the game this weekend was going to require more than just dessert bribes and sweet talking. Dragging you by the ankles could be a possibility, but all for naught when you dig your nails in anyway. 

It was impossible. Not doable. Non-existent in the cards of your destiny. A repelling force. 

So why, would one ask, were you decked out in the most  heinous red scarf with the letters SVT stitched on like a warning, sitting in the bleachers and looking down at the same rink you practice your spins and jumps in everyday? 

Neither you or Lorelai could answer that question, both your stories as blurry as fog as to how either of you managed to get you in that fabled seat. 

You could see the exact place you and Seungcheol had your last showdown, the opposing team in black now occupying that side of the benches. The thought puts you in an impossibly sour mood. It’s not like Lorelai could say anything about it, half because she knows you’re one snide remark away from jumping into the merch table, and half because she was too busy making heart eyes at Jeonghan who’s just spotted her in her seat. 

“I’ll be back,” she informs haphazardly as she positively bounds down the steps to the end of the bleachers, where Jeonghan waits for her. The people in their seats shuffle, annoyed at the overenthusiastic fan who practically slides down in front of their legs towards the railing. But Lorelai couldn’t care less, not with what stood beyond that very railing. 

Tearing your eyes away from the lovebirds, you take in the hustle and bustle of the pregame happenings, most of the bleachers in disarray as they humour the merch stands and the food stalls. The rink smells different because of it, both the added number of food trucks and drink stands, but also with the amount of people that occupy the expanse. 

The only times you see the rink this packed is when you’re too wracked with nerves to notice anything other than your own two feet. Hands wringing and head spinning, the chaos of the world is nothing against the pandemonium in your mind. You’re usually wearing a sparkly dress that glitters even from the very last row of bleachers, hair taut and makeup caked on like a layer of icing. 

Taking your time, you let your eyes flit over all that you forgo the other times. The stands are a mix of red and black, and so are the benches and ice that are occupied by men in full hockey gear. 

You’re too high up to make out the names on the back of all those jerseys, let alone a face underneath the already concealing helmets. The problem is forgotten when you feel the weight of two hands slam against your folded arms, tugging you out of your seat like it was stolen property. 

“Jeonghan said we could sit closer to the benches downstairs!” Lorelai is frantic, like this wasn’t a matter of reserved seats but the last plane to leave hell itself. 

“Lor—” Finishing a sentence when she’s in this state is a luxury you learn quickly to live without, because all that concerns her right now is getting closer to the man that seems to have enraptured her like never before. 

It’s disgusting. But you follow her anyway, down the steps that you nearly eat shit on, gracefully of course, because what figure skater doesn’t fall with an epic crash worthy of an Expendables cameo. You stabilise yourself enough to get to the seats Lorelai is talking about, and sure enough, Jeonghan would barely have to get on his tiptoes to hoist himself into the bleachers altogether. You question the safety of the context but decide that it wasn’t your problem if someone decided to pounce on one of the players. 

Besides, you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t revel in the absolute scene of Seungcheol getting jumped by an over-passionate fan. You’re suddenly very grateful for the front row seats. 

There’s a bucket of chicken tenders and fries in your lap out of nowhere, matching the one in Lorelai’s hands. “Also Jeonghan?” you hum as you inspect the sauce options. 

“Mhm, he’s friends with the vendor outside,” she grins. 

You narrow your eyes at the revelation, finding it utmost strange how close he seems to be with nearly everyone. “Why is he on the benches, again?” you ask. 

“Because—” she draws before you cut her off. 

“Friends with the coach?”

“How’d you know?!” she exclaims. Her attention is diverted as the speakers suddenly boom with something other than generic pop music. So is yours, when you hear a deep baritone of a commentator’s voice carries throughout the rink. 

The shuffle around you is suddenly doubling in speed, everyone getting into their seats. You look over in front of you, where the benches are in an equally panicked shuffle. You spot Jeonghan easily, mostly because he’s one of the few in the vicinity without a helmet or what looks like a giant space suit. The next thing you note is the person he’s talking to, his back turned to you, but familiar all the same. 

CHOI, 95, reads his jersey. Automatically, your jaw clenches.  “Don’t look over there!” Lorelai chides, grabbing your jaw and moving it to force you to rip your eyes away from him. 

“Lorelai, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but unlike your boy toy, he’s actually gonna be on the ice,” you verbalise through clenched teeth. 

“Don’t look at the ice,” she blurts. 

Rolling your eyes, you only listen as she realises what she’s said. “Okay, um, look at Jeon instead! Or Kim, or Boo, just. For god’s sake, there’s fifty other players on the ice, just don’t let one of them ruin your night!” 

“I’m fine,” you grumble, sinking into your seat. 

It isn’t long before your eyes trail over anyway, and Seungcheol still doesn’t have his helmet on. You can see his face now, and he looks like he’s mad at Jeonghan about something. 

Inevitably, your mind wanders to the fated article that somehow made its way into your recommended, the certainty it put in you that Seungcheol didn’t stand a chance in his team anymore. It seemed true enough, his anger, that he continues to display, seemed to be his default emotional setting. 

Your hockey knowledge was subpar at best, but one thing you did know was the aggression factor of the sport. Of all the things that could cut his career clean down the middle, this was the last of your guesses.  

Even now, as you watch him absentmindedly point and jerk like his supposed friend had managed to bring him something that was personally offensive, it’s all connecting too well. 

But when you snap into reality, you realise very quickly that he was pointing…at you. 

Seungcheol is mad that Jeonghan (effectively) brought you to the match. 

A chortle of disbelief is quick to make itself known, wanting to yell across the throng that you were every bit as upset that he was in your vicinity too. It also brings you satisfaction, a pure grain of hope, that maybe this would be enough for him to completely fuck up on the ice today. 

You say a quick amen before the baritone of the commentator makes itself known again. The echo is too much for you to decipher what’s going on, but you have your answer when you watch the reds and the blacks form what looks like a line across the width of the rink, right in the center. 

You don’t register when the puck landed, or if it was always there, just that the loud clacks and bangs are in tandem with the cheer from the crowds. The puck is an impossible commodity to keep up with, even with just your eyes. It appears for a moment before it’s lost again, shooting around in your peripheral vision like a pesky fly you can never get a hold of. 

“What is happening?” you whisper to yourself. 

Lorelai answers anyway, snorting, “Fuck if I know.”

The numbers on the lit screens are doing nothing to help out your predicament, too much happening for you to even begin to deconstruct. You choose to lay back and enjoy your chicken tenders and fries, complimenting the sauce choices to Lorelai along the way, who continues to calibrate her attention on the man that remains in the benches. Jeonghan looks over periodically to send her a wave and a blinding smile. 

You’ve made a good enough dent in your chicken and fries bucket by the time it’s intermission, about ready for a drink by now. Lorelai makes herself useful and runs down to get you both something, mostly because Jeonghan was now more focused on the team that’s huddled around one another, another man you assume is their coach huddled right with them. 

The scores are 2-2, as provided by the person behind you who was apparently sick of your placid obliviousness. It did feel slightly awkward to be the only person not as excited to be front and center, so you remind yourself to thank him profusely. 

Your attention drifts back to the benches, inevitably as you’ve been so unfortunately placed to be able to breathe down the player’s necks. They’ve dispersed from their huddle, but are not yet on the ice. They’re sitting down, catching their breaths, drinking from water bottles. On the other side, the opposing team, a sea of black and white flooding their own end of the benches. It’s a sinking colour, not an ounce of depth in the shade. It’s taking over the benches. 

Except it’s the players that are moving, like they’re diffusing into the scarlet territory. 

You watch, as one player in black moves his mouth, speaking, upturned and eyebrows cocked. It’s clear he’s gone well past enemy lines, the front lines suddenly at attention. There’s not much you can make out, nothing much besides the very haughty expression on the player’s face. His eyes are covered by the sweaty mop on his head, but you don’t need to see them to find the malice that infiltrates his entire stance.

The scene, where both sides seem to be closing in on each other, has you automatically sitting up straighter. The air is going static, especially as you realise the player's mouth is moving faster as he jabs at — Seungcheol. 

They’re fighting, only verbally for now, but it’s undeniable the way the heat grows by the second. All you can see is the back of Seugncheol’s jersey as he begins to step back from the ordeal, like he was fighting the urge to take a step forward instead. 

Jeonghan’s hand is on Seungcheol’s elbow, and one glance at the rest of the players on this side shows every last one on edge. Their coach is nowhere to be seen. 

But he doesn’t stop talking, still standing in their territory. He yells something loud enough to hear the pitch of his voice, but not nearly enough to understand what he’s saying. 

You could see it on the player’s face. Hook, line and sinker. 

It happens so suddenly. Seungcheol surges forward like a dart, something flies out and hits the player square in the face. 

Seungcheol had spat his mouth guard into his face. 

You gasp out loud as you register what’s happening. The player removes his hand from his face, and for some reason, emerges grinning. 

Seungcheol swings first, his fist rising and coming down on his cheek with a sound you can hear. You feel nauseous. 

It’s pandemonium. You can see Jeonghan practically on top of Seungcheol, a number of other players attempting to get him off the man he continues to grab and shake up like a fugitive. The other player is throwing his own punches.

For one, horrifying moment, the force of the punch pushes Seungcheol’s face towards the stands enough to let you get an eyeful. All you see is red, beyond just his jersey. His mouth is full of blood, the front of his jersey dripped with it, his knuckles clustered with it. 

The hand clasped around your mouth is your own, eyes blown in horror. 

All around you, the world has their phones out like it was some show meant just for them, like this was exactly what they came here for. 

It’s sickening. Sickening. 

You brave another look, and they’ve been yanked off of one another. Seungcheol is being pushed down the tunnel and away from sight. Jeonghan has his hands clutched around Seungcheol like he’s nearly ready for another outbreak, his face grim. 

Your eyes keep away from Seungcheol’s face on purpose.  “Goodness, what is going on, I could barely get through the crowd,” Lorelai’s irritated voice infiltrates your ears, and you’re immediately brought back down to earth. 

Arms full of more snacks and drinks, it only takes her one look at your rattled self to know. 

“What happened?”

“I…they were…fighting. I don’t know, it just—Seungcheol was throwing punches and there was…blood, so much blood.”

She’s gotten a grip on your hand, her fingers warm under your cold, shivering ones. “Do you wanna leave?” she asks slowly. 

One look over her shoulder is enough to tell you it’d be impossible. Everyone was too excited to care to cater to two people going in the opposite direction of the action. So you tell her there was no point, and you attempt to calm your racing heart as she sits next to you. 

Snagging one of the packs from her mountain of snacks, you rip it open and let the sickly sweet smell infiltrate your nostrils. Popping one of the confections in your mouth, it’s hard to not make a face. It’s the sourest thing you could’ve picked, the tartness enough to distract you from the outside world. Eyes scrunched closed, you swallow the rush of saliva to ask Lorelai what the fuck she brought.

You chortle, and it has Lorelai looking over. “Whoops! That one’s mine.”

She snags the bag from your loosened grip, replacing it with a tamer bag of original flavoured potato chips. The chips are trying, but there’s not much you can do besides wait for the residues of the godawful candy to subside. 

The ordeal seems to have calmed you the slightest bit, finally able to turn back to the ice. The rink is back to being occupied, players from both ends pouring onto the ice. You note a minor shoulder shove at the gate, but look away like it’d stop the calamity from intensifying. 

The game ensues as normal, but you note the blatant absence of CHOI in the sea of red and white jerseys. You don’t mention it, and neither does Lorelai. 

You’re about to burst by the time the finals moments are upon the game, the overtime minutes beginning to tick as the crowd grows restless by the second. With the little you’ve managed to grasp, you’re sure that SVT is only one goal away from the overtake. It’s making you nervous, like you’re waiting for your own score to be announced after a free skate. 

The puck is a mere percentage easier to navigate after a couple hours of keeping after it; it skips between players you’re beginning to recognise from the back of their jersey. Kim, Boo, Wen, Kim, Lee. The opposing team intercepts for a moment, and you find yourself letting out an irritated shake of the shoulders. Back to Kim, Lee, Lee, and then, right into the net. 

The jittering crowd suddenly went so silent you could hear a pin drop. 

And then the world around you erupts. It’s impossible to classify the sound as cheers when racketeers off your entire being like an unearthly sound, the stands on their feet hollering and screaming and yelling at their players that are fighting to keep their new overtake in the final seconds before the game officially ends. 

And when it does, you’re sure you need to get your ears checked out. 

Looking over, you catch Lorelai’s eye, and you can’t help but laugh. A delightful laugh that releases itself in the midst of the chaos of red, scarlet and cherry. Somebody’s thrown a red blanket over you, another has begun to hand out congratulatory cherry lollipops (you pass, but Lorealai would be damned if she did), people are hugging each other so tight and you get the inkling they’ve only met each other today. 

The ice is one giant dogpile, red on red as they suffocate one another in celebration. 

Perhaps you didn’t realise how important the game actually was, or maybe every game is like this, loud, proud and exultant. You find yourself imagining how they feel. 

The lost feeling of bouquets and flowers whisked in your direction, stuffed animals and hundreds of other things that scream adoration as your performance comes to a close. It’s a physical manifestation of an adoring crowd, as though making it tangible makes it a little more real. 

The rush, you can feel it resonate off of the scarlet side of the benches, and it’s enough for you to realise that yes, this was an important match. For them anyway. 

The way out of the rink is reasonably packed, but you manage to squeeze through the doors and towards where Lorelai had parked with fewer than expected obstruction. “Thought you might wait to see Jeonghan before we leave,” you hum as you walk to the parking spot. 

“I was going to, but he’s probably dealing with what happened,” she utters slowly. A flash of red at the mention, gone as soon as it came. Lorelai adds with a little extra pep to her voice, “It’s okay! I’ll send him a text, we were planning on dinner tomorrow anyway.”

The side eye you send is met with a light shove. “This one seems serious. Dragging me here for his sake and now dinner with him?”

Lorelai was infamous for taking it excruciatingly slow, the time between the talking stage and the first date stretching for months. She claims it’s to make sure she's not roping herself into something she’d regret, which you’ll admit has seemed to work out in her favour. Her last relationship lasted years before Josh had to move away. 

Jeonghan seems to have her under some warped spell, because Lorelai was hurtling into this relationship like a too compressed cannon ball. There was nothing you knew about Jeonghan other than his friendship with Seungcheol, his position as junior league coach and his habit of loitering on the ice; which means there wasn’t much opinion to be had on the whole conquest. Regardless, you decide to caution her some other day, when she’s not glowing and over the moon like a robust teenager. 

Slipping into the passenger seat, you slump like never before, already dreaming about the bedrotting session you’re about to have; glorious enough for the books. 

“Do you wanna grab food and rot on the couch?” she asks. 

“You’re still hungry after all that?” you huff, your mouth still flavoured with artificial sweetness paired with the savoury of the chicken and fries. You pull out your phone for the first time in nearly three hours, the home screen alarming full of missed notifications. Text messages, mentions and phone calls. For whatever reason, you swipe right past and open your browser. 

“It’ll take about an hour till we’re settled, should be hungry enough by then,” she comments, a gentle growl coming from beneath you as the engine comes to life. 

Somewhere between the lines of the seatbelt sign pinging, and the radio blaring itself into the space, you’ve read a headline that’s enough to halt your world. 

“There’s this new Chinese place that opened nearby here. Or this Persian restaurant but it’s like 20 minutes in the other direction. Or do we just do soup—”

“Lorelai.”

She turns to look at you in the passenger seat, seatbelt alarm still dinging as you remain with your seatbelt off as she pulls out of the parking space, like the official soundtrack to your doom. She brakes, hard. Lorelai is always Lorry with you, her full name only ever when you’re feigning irritation. 

There’s nothing irritating about the situation, but everything is wrong with it. 

It’s like you were in the benches, taking punches while simultaneously throwing a few yourself. You’re out of breath still seated, your skin tingles like a million arachnids crawling under your skin under your layers. You’re in the eddy of a horrifying whirlpool, that’s pulling you down, down, down, down, down, down—

!HOT TOPIC!

FIGURE SKATER OR FIGURINE? NOTHING GRACEFUL ABOUT Y/N L/N’S FALL FROM THE PINNACLE OF THE SKATING WORLD. Read from the Source!

From a pocket princess, to a rising star. From a rising star to the top of the world. From the top of the world to… a bottomless hell? How did Y/N L/N end up here? 

It’s nothing new that L/N’s presence was notable during the flashy ISU Grand Prix held in Beijing last year, the podium notably shuffled as a result. The skater’s ankle injury was never awarded a career ending title, but with the way her comeback remains as foggy as it did since the initial announcement, one must begin to wonder if we’ll ever see L/N on the competitive ice again. 

Or perhaps she’s simply lost her spark? 

Trusted sources report that L/N’s sponsors are growing weary of her extended vacation, and are just about ready to pull the rug! In addition, sources also report her floundering lack of consistency in practice sessions on the ice, her condition beyond someone as onerous as even Isabella Carroll to manoeuvre into success. Talk about futile! 

Now, we’re all hoping that our glittering gold medalist is only a victim of mindless chatter, however, we must concede, neither we nor our sources are holding on to too much hope. 

Keep on the lookout for more updates from us on our fallen (?) star!

[a/n]: hehehehehe remember to reblog and tell me your thoughts

[abbiecosm]

idk call me mean but i just don’t trust people whose list of ships doesn’t include even one gay one. and shockingly yes that includes mlm

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: November 2023

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post to let them know that they’re appreciated 💜 And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | 💜 (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, personal favorites = 💯.

Namjoon

⭐Friend or Fuck by @joonsmagicshop [8K] // knj x f.reader // f2l // 🥵

📝 A drunken night leads to a good morning.

🗨️ I really liked this 🥺 Namjoon was just so sweet, caring and gentle with OC. Really loved it 👏🏾 but why, oh why did Jungkook have to cockblock them 😂 I wanted the smut alright! The build up was so good, I was slightly frustrated with the ending 🙈 yes I’m a slut for smut okay 🙈 I’m hoping for a part two ✌🏾🙏🏾💜

⭐Emotions of the Soul 💯by @oddinary4bts [36.6K] // knj x f.reader // idol!au, childhood/teenage lovers to s2l2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 When Namjoon reappears in your life after thirteen years of absence, you find yourself unsure of what he means to you, and of what you mean to him. Anxiety reigns over you, but will it be enough to drag you away from Kim Namjoon?

🗨️ This is another masterpiece from Ella! She is incredible at writing idol!au’s that just feels so goddamn natural and real 👏 The way Namjoon is written is just perfection and OC with her struggles, and they are goddamn human, yes – and that’s one of the beautiful parts in it!!! 😭I also reminded me of my own teenage breakup (gosh I was stupid back then, but not because of the breakup lol 😂). Anyway, please go and read it! As with everything Ella write, this is another to add to my favorites 💜

Seokjin

Nothing this month 😞

Yoongi

⭐Workaholic 💯by @hobiwonder [10K] // myg x f.reader // “‘strangers” to lovers (I don’t want to spoil!) // 🥵😂🥰

📝 Yoongi needs to relax and Hoseok has many tricks up his sleeve to make him. None of them Yoongi thought included hiring a hooker to pay him a visit one stormy night. 

🗨️ Wow okay, this was so freaking great! Like, what??? Incredible! A masterpiece! I really really loved it 🥺 everything was so fucking good, their chemistry, the tense build up ugh, so fucking good! 💯 ✨

⭐Little bit of your Heart by @yoongiofmine [wordcount loading…] // myg x f.reader, jjk x f.reader // exes!au, fwb!au // 🥵

📝 You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it? 

🗨️ Yes here we go a new series from Ella! ✨ Yoongi already seems so done with Jungkook and they have barely spoken 😂 looking forward to how that develops 🤭

⭐What the Moon Saw + Stolen Tides 💯by @violetsiren90 // myg x f.reader // non-idol!au, f2l // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 In the words of the great Stevie Nicks, "Time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I'm getting older too."

🗨️ This is just so fucking beautiful. Everything. About. It. Period. 😭 It is emotional, it is young love, and it is tender and loving - like, Yoongi is just so sweet. Their timing sucks, but thankfully Violet wrote a beautiful drabble to give the couple a lovely ending! 💜 Truly, please go read it, it is so good I was crying and felt so good after, it’s sweet – OKAY I’M SOFT I know.

Hoseok

⭐Flight 18 💯by @noona-la-la-la [9.5K] // jhs x f. reader // flight!au, idol!au // 🥵😂

📝 Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul.  You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat.  Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.

🗨️ This was just really really amazing; utterly funny (like I was laughing at certain points), so much sexual tension that evolves into satisfying smut 😗

Jimin

⭐The Airport Couple: P[ass]anger from Hell + Drabble 💯by @dovechim & @jimlingss [8K] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, frequent traveler jimin x tsa agent reader // 😂😂😂🥰

📝 As a TSA agent, you expect your job to be relatively easy, most passengers these days follow the rules to the T in order to avoid prolonging their custom checks. But not a certain Park Jimin, who seems to have a problem understanding what 100ml is, or the very simple fact that gadgets must be taken out of the bag, and bomb jokes are strictly off limits. Frequent traveller Park Jimin is your nemesis, but darn is he a cute one.

🗨️ This is just so fucking hilarious, don’t get me started. I laughed from beginning to end 😂 And it’s still as good as I remember, if not even better??? Like ✨ I’ve highlighted a few of my favorite parts from the fic. I don’t want to give too much away, but these lines are just so damn hilarious! Please go read it, it’s one of my faves 💯

⭐The Airport Couple: Park Jimin’s Cock[pit] 💯by @jimlingss & @dovechim [12K] // pjm x f.reader // pilot!au, bf2l, coworkers!au // 😂🥰🥵

📝 Talk about Angry Birds, and most people would immediately think of the mobile game app. But within your circle of friends, it stands for something else. It’s synonymous with Park Jimin, one of the most talented pilots from your batch who also just happens to have anger issues, or in other words, air rage. He is your best friend, but when you get teamed up with him as his co-pilot, you can only pray that things don’t go south… literally. 

🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago, and I loved it then and I still do ✨ It is incredibly funny, has good banter and dialogue to match. The chemistry between reader and Jimin is just priceless, their friendship is just pure giggles 🥹 It’s also fluffy and will tug on your heartstrings in the best way possible. Just really, really good and definitely also one of my all-time favorites 💯💜

⭐Flowers & Sex by @7deadlysinsfics [4.5K] // pjm x f.reader // fwb, f2l au, pwp // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 You’re in need of a warm body and a good fuck. who better than your friend park jimin?

🗨️ Just really cute 🥺 Hoseok (readers ex in this) is a douche though, like why did she have to go back to him ugh 🥴 but I like how the story developed and reader realized her feelings after she took her ex back. Loved Jimin and how he gave her flowers 💐 he was so fucking cute 🥺🌸

⭐Heaven with You by @acc3ssdenied [4.7K] // pjm x f.reader // friends to ??? // 🥵

📝 All good things happen after 2 am - at least, that was what you believed. Whoever thought it was a good idea for a group of twelve young adults to play drunk truth or dare obviously agreed with you.

🗨️ Oh this was some filthy smut 🥵 And that kiss with Taehyung was downright slutty – a really good pwp 🥵

⭐Have some Respect by @chim-chimmie [4.2K] // pjm x f.reader // school/college!au, teacher!jimin // 🥵

📝 Your teacher Park Jimin has had enough of you disrespecting him, so he taught you a little lesson.

🗨️ Okay, okay, I know the teacher x student dynamic is a touchy subject, and not always well executed, but hear me out, alright. This was so freaking sinful, like my soul needs to take a shower now??? 🥵

⭐Rush by @bangtanfanfiction [4K] // pjm x f.reader // idol!jimin // 🥵🥰

📝 After not seeing your boyfriend for several weeks, his latest performance definitely made something in you snap. And at a award show of all things.

🗨️ A good pwp with smut that is 🔥

⭐How Long? by @jiminniethemarshmallow [4K] // pjm x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 No summary!

🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it’s still so fucking hot and filthy 🥵

⭐Turbulence by @yminie [9.3K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 On your first flight the cute boy next to you helps to sooth your nerves, and on the second flight he soothes something else.

🗨️ Gosh, I remember reading this a few years back and I’ve actually read it multiple times, it’s just so incredible 👏🏾 the smut is freaking hot, and Jimin is just 🤯 well, he’s being a sweet fluffball, but then a smexy God 🥵 like wtf! The duality is insane! One of my favorites and I’m looking forward to rereading part two ✨💜

⭐Accelerate by @yminie [8.9K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Jimin comes to retrieve his jacket on the condition that you then accompany him for dinner, and you can bet he satiates every hunger.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

Taehyung

Nothing this month 😞

Jungkook

⭐Love à Trois [series; ongoing] by @letjungcoook7 [13.1K] // jjk x f.reader x pjm // slice of life, f2l+s2l, roommates!au, college!au, love triangle // 🥵🌩️

📝 You and Jimin secretly have feelings for each other, you both realize your dream of studying at the same college and sharing an apartment, but when financial issues start to arise, you have to seek a third roommate. and guess who fate sends your way? Jungkook, the same guy who took your virginity back in high school.

🗨️ This is really good! There’s two chapters up so far and they are really good! It’s so interesting to see the love triangle unfold. Really enjoyed this 🌸 It’s just getting better and better ✨ I really loved the backstory of how both Jimin and OC realized they had feelings for each other 🥺 so good and really looking forward to the next chapter 😍

⭐Sweet Obsession by @letjungcoook7 [2.5K] // jjk x f.reader // established relationship, plussize!reader // 🥵🥰

📝 When a coworker starts to show interest in you, your boyfriend becomes jealous.

🗨️ Whaaaaaaaat 🥹This was so incredibly sweet and tender! As a plus-sized curvy girl, this was such a good and lovely read 💖 Another banger from Lua💜

⭐The Wedding Planners 💯by @gukyi [28K] // jjk x f.reader // e2l, wedding!au // 😂🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Jeon jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. then your best friend hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly jeon jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding. 

🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it was just a very funny and pleasant reread 💜 What I love about this is one, is definitely the slow-burn and the enemies to lovers aspect too. The banter between reader and Jungkook is just so priceless and reading how their relationship slowly unfolds and develops through the months of the wedding planning was just everything 💯 Hoseok and Yoongi’s personality in this also makes this fic truly amazing.

⭐Fragment of the Past (1)(2)(3) [series; completed] 💯by @ctrlsht [28.1K] // jjk x f.reader // patient!jk x psychiatrist!reader // 🌩️😈👻🥵

📝 You are a well-known and respected psychiatrist and author. You start treating Jungkook, who suffers from PTSD after surviving an extremely traumatic incident. As you help him confront his traumatic past, he begins to act strangely, and you start uncovering something about him that will change everything.

🗨️ Another first for me, with the thriller vibes and damn it delivers on that! It’s really, really good 👏 Pacing is really good and how we see more and more of Jungkook’s disturbing traits is just brilliant ✨If you want my full review of it, you can find it here (it does contain spoilers though!). And I really think you shouldn’t spoil it! Just go read it if you’re into the darker stuff, because my heart was racing so damn fast! This is the best thriller yandere au I’ve read to date 💜

⭐Lost on You by @letjungcoook7 [2.1K] // jjk x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵

📝 You're just so obsessed with your boyfriend. you would do anything for him.

🗨️ Ehm excuse me Lua, mirror sex???? 🥵 Fucking hell that was a hot one, like I almost feel like I need to take a shower 😂 another banger from you! And the dirty talking too, aish 🥵 💖

OMG November has truly been an exceptional month! There was my 30th birthday of course, and then I received so my love for my series ‘friendcation’ that I was crying with all the beautiful words and reviews I got 😭 I am so thankful for every one of you, whether you interact with my fic recs or my own – thank you! 💜

Borahae 💜

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Bonus- Chapter 25

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Back with a chapter! This one was so short (and also more pain what the heck. Thankfully NOT as bad as the previous one).

The tea this morning is peppermint <3

The first sentence, "Zhuzhi-Lang had known for a long, long time that it was a disgusting monster". p119 You're not a monster ZZL! Your parents were just freaks 😭

Tianlang-Jun is serving Miranda from Devil Wears Prada in this and I can't. The sass, audacity, and CONFIDENCE this man has. Tianlang-Jun basically: "unfortunate appearance. Well, this is your job now so do it correct". p120

AND THEN he gives ZZL a glowup! p122

I mean not really wrong. Tianlang-jun is here for a good time not really a long time with the way he indulges and makes life choices. "Though Zhuzhi-lang firmly believed that his lord could do no wrong, he secretly thought that his lord's brain actually wasn't too sharp" p123

Why is Tianlang-jun iconic as fuck though. Need a new name? This is one of my fav poetry books. Aha! Here we go "Zhuzhi-jun" p124

omg poor Tianlang-jun. His heartbreak post Bai Lu Mountain. :(((( my heart: "In the plays I've read, maidens from the Human Realm are unanimously gentle as water, considerate and charming: hence, I thought all maidens would be like this. So, I've been lied t. Zhuzhi-Lang, one can't read too many plays" p126

and this man has 0 concept of money. Thank fuck for Zhuzhi-lang honestly because the DILF would be in serious trouble. p127

I'm with Zhuzhi-lang on this one. The fact that Tianlang-jun couldn't smell the plot that was his sugar momma is frankly quite alarming. How did this man survive to this point? pp130-131

TLJ had such a rough go. The time he spent imprisoned was so rough. Poor guy was basically just trapped in his own mind losing it entirely. pp132-133

I'm SCREAMING at the way in which TLJ wanted to set up ZZL with SQQ. oh no ahahahaha p135

The tent scene is so much funnier now that I know TLJ basically scripted the scene for his own enjoyment LOL This guy is really living to write his own romcom p137

ugh the way this ended. I don't know who had the worst story in this series, but ZZL is sure up there :(( p138

I love that slithery bastard though

My heart for this guy. His story really never got much better and it's the worst because most of it was self inflicted. He's like, "yeah I'm a monster and this is my fate". Poor buddies.

[cherrybean]

Lalo/Nacho taking care of you when you’re depressed (Headcanons)

Some Fluff 🩵

sorry for being gone :( Apple decided to delete all my notes after i updated my phone so i had to reach out to them to get them back 😭 i have another post pending and the lalo smut for my smut enjoyers thank you for being so understanding 🫶🏽

this is for anyone who’s having a hard time rn with everything and with the weather changing 🧚🏽‍♀️

Lalo:

- Lalo would always have a 6th sense of when you’d be feeling down

- It’d start off small with you being more tired than usual

- Then it’d be you wanting to sleep in more and not go out and being more sensitive/irritable than normal

- He’d try to spend as much time with you as possible and accommodate to your needs

- Lalo would be super understanding and I think he’d even feel depressed knowing he can’t do much to help you 🥲

- He’d try to get you out of the house if possible, he’d either take you to the grocery store later at night so there weren’t many people around, or he’d pick you up to go on a secluded walk on a trail only he knew so you could talk about anything, or just enjoy your company

- Poor Lalo would get so worried about you I think he himself would become almost like a helicopter parent 😭

- When he’d have business on the other side of the border he’d take you with him to his house in Chihuahua to give you a different view outside the city

- He’d also be able to keep you safe with security around the house and he wouldn’t have to worry about you not eating since the Doñas could help make you food

- “Tell me all your troubles, mí amor” as he holds you while you sob 🥺

- Ugh I feel like Lalo would be the type of boyfriend to always take care of you no matter what 😩

- When he’d have a day off he’d personally make you all your foods and spend it doing whatever you’d want

- I’ve already written how Lalos love langue would be acts of service and physical touch, but I think during this time he’d be even more affectionate

- I’m talking more forehead/head kisses, more hugging and more caressing you any time he can

- Tell me why I can see his insomniac ass watching you sleep and making sure your legs are tangled together so even when you’re asleep you know he’s still there 🥺

Nacho:

- Nacho would know when you’d be feeling down when you’d become basically a hermit

- You not coming out of his giant house in days would be the first sign

- He wouldn’t push you out of your comfort zone though and he’d bring you flowers and your favorite food to eat once he’d get home late at night

- “I brought you dinner sweetheart” he’d say giving you a big kiss on the forehead

- Nacho would worry about you and try to spend every minute with you

- Nacho would be the type of person to make fun and cutesy dates in doors 🥺

- He’d make a whole snack bar of all your favorite snacks and have his couch plastered with all the comfiest pillows and blankets for a movie marathon

- Poor Nacho would worry so much about you that he’d try to delay his “business” calls :((

- I feel like you and Nacho would kind of be a codependent couple (not in a bad way please 😭)

- You guys just really enjoy each others companies and if one or the other is depressed it’d affect the other person as well 🥲

- Nacho would love to take you out on long drives when you’d be sad to let you play your long sad Spotify playlists

- Nacho strikes me as the type of partner who would leave encouraging notes on any surface, like the mirror, kitchen cabinets, fridge, etc for you to see while he’s away

- Nacho would also try and update you throughout his day and text you so you don’t get so lonely 🥺

- Ugh my sweet boy would do anything possible to see you smile :((

- Since I see Nacho having more of a quality time type of lover and LOTS of words of affirmations

- “I’m so proud of you baby” “you look gorgeous love” etc.

[gffa]

As an update, I have gotten some sleep, I spent some time with family, I talked with a lot of people, I opened some windows for some fresh air, I spent some time tooling around on the internet, I even put the clothes in the dryer (UGH!!!), and I'm feeling a lot better. I want to say that I really appreciated how many people were angry with me (you guys should have seen the nuclear option response I wrote and how poor Moss had to talk me down off the ledge of it, because she knew of course I'd regret it later!), but even more I appreciate that you guys were kind and offered me connection and sympathy. More than anything, what helped me is remembering that there's so much good in this world through people saying you were thinking of me. It would have felt really good to sic a bunch of people on someone who was cruel to me, believe me, there's a part of me that would have loved it because of course I wanted to lash back out at her. So, I understand that urge, I appreciate the protective place that it's coming from! But ultimately I needed to handle this my own way, even if it was making a post about her that wasn't a call-out per se, but an exploration of my own boundaries. And ultimately I have to stick to my morals about how I can't sic people on someone, that's not what friends and fellow fans are for. I don't want to fight more with her, I want to go back to ignoring that she exists. When I'm grieving, this is not how I want to spend my day, no matter what she does or doesn't deserve, I deserve to have the space to process my grief instead of having to deal with her in my most painful moments. So, I appreciate everyone who wanted to march over to her and give her a piece of your minds, that anger helped soothe the hurt in me, but in this instance, I wanted peace even more, not a fight with whatever nonsense she would have thrown back. And because of that, tonight I feel a lot steadier and more stable again, I feel warmly connected to all of you, and ready to read some Star Wars comics and yell about deep diving into the obscure stuff again because I love that shit and I love happily yelling about it with you guys, if you want to wander by and read it. Or just laugh about how Anakin is The Most Character Ever, can you guys BELIEVE how lucky we are to be in a fandom of a story that centers around THAT guy? The one who is the most terrifying murder cyborg ever, but is also the sweetest boy ever, but is also the most dumbass genius you've ever met, but is also a genuinely complex and interesting character?? Guys, how can I stay down for too long when we get to talk about Anakin Skywalker's EVERYTHING???

[windamp]

let's rate red hood costumes

if i forgot smth lo siento. just let me know, there are so many of these and i am one creature

this is just for fun btw. nothing serious here! <3

now these are all comic canon red hoods (except maybe two? we'll get to them). no alt universes. maybe one day.

now on to the costumes

Hush Jason. Maybe not technically Red Hood but like. c'mon. close enough

i'm giving the rating 6/10

I know the trench coat was probably more for mr. hush himself, but i enjoy it. i'm also a filthy pouch lover so they do get points. also in red! cute. the boots are also neat. the negatives are that ugly robin dress/tunic thing. kinda silly. still it was good for giving bruce a spook.

2. the classic. the og. red hood utrh version!

9/10, easy. the casual outfit paired with the sleek red helmet. *mwuah* wonderful! nothing bad to say. it's recognizable. comfortable. stylish. great job all around

3. titans tower. ah.

-10/10. i would give props for running around in the scalies BUT THE UGLY ASS YELLOW TIGHTS. disgusting. bare his legs to the world you cowards. i'm mad. this could get at least 7/10 for sheer moxy if it weren't for those hideous target brand pantyhose

4. brothers in blood.

he's literally just copying dick, but being unhinged as hell about it.

5.5/10. he looks good. who doesn't in nightwing's fit? though he is copying, he does get points for obsessive weirdness of it all.

bonus?

???/10 i don't know how i feel. i've never known how i feel about this.

5. final crisis

i think he had a helmet in this arc and it broke but dont quote me!!!! pay me to read final crisis again if you have an issue.

he spends most of his time in jeans + leather jacket + just the domino

this is probably the most boring but i give it a 10/10 my boring ass loves it. no dressups just a guy in a shitty little mask. clapping. bravo. there's something ~thematic~ bout it

6. final crisis pt 2

1/10 i hate the red robin suit i hate it i hate it. we finally got tim out of the damn thing even though it came at too high a cost (he's trapped in robin purgatory). it does look okay in wfa, but usually in dc reg comics it looks like ass.

regardless jason looks bad in it too. very sweet of murdery bruce to give it to him but ugh. at least could've given him some ears on that mask. then it couldve been bumped a point

7. batman

the first time jason decided to wear a muzzle. hm.

6/10. there's nothing wrong with it. it's just a bit generically 'what would gun batman look like'. the face part is my favorite, with the weird grater muzzle, pointy ears, and red glowing eyes. it's fun

8. batman&robin

i need to get my first thought out. the little symbol on his chest reminds me of homestuck. i can't really unsee it. i know like theres no connection. but it looks like it could belong on a homestuck human

anyway. 3.5/10. he was willing to try something totally new, so i'm giving points. i enjoy the white. is the red hood goofy af? yes. yes it is. iconic, though? sometimes the upper black part is drawn lower, i've noticed. it doesn't change much for me.

i like the thigh highs going on here. the red guns are sexy!. he looks bad but there are good things here!!!

there is this version, which ditches the thigh highs, gives back the classic helmet, removes the cape for a jacket, and adds belts.

6/10 i think it fixes a lot about the prev costume, though it's really just like they threw utrh's costume and his previous batman&robin costume in the blender lmfao

wow flashpoint. father todd is not a red hood, so we progress.

9. nu52

an update on the og look. i do like the contrasting brown jacket, the prominant thigh straps. sometimes his helmet is drawn suctioned to his face so -2 for any of that cause it's so weird

8/10 not a bad update to the classic.

10. red hood/arsenal

i dont remember when he changed into this actually. in my head it's rh/a but i could be wrong.

i see no one talking about this abomination. his new fit? yah. this one? no?

4/10 the bottom of this is fine. i HATE the jacket. sorry it's just. ugly. his arm bands are also clunky. the matching between arsenal and red hood is nice though. so it didnt get too low. roy pulls it off better :(

11. wingman

hm. i didnt read this. this makes me not want too akdsfhsl

0/10. ugly. looks like a villain in some scifi thing in the 90s. like power rangers. sentai villain looking ass. boring grey, ugly lines and shapes, the goofiest helmet on earth......

ig willis is burdened with this curse now

12. 3 jokers (dubiously canon. i dont consider it so but since dc left it in the air we add it)

he has a helmet for a bit. this one is interesting bc i could actually see it as a futhering of his costume had he lived. sans helmet ofc. it's hard bc i don't not like this, i just feel it doesnt fit his aesthetic in the present day. 5/10. if jason had lived and not become red hood id rank it higher but then we wouldnt be here, would we?

13. batman's gift

i debated putting this, but it's different enough from the nu52 vers

very fun. body armor all over. i like the red arm guards here unlike w/ the prev one that had these (less bulky ?). i like the leg stripes.

it doesn't really do much to change his look, but there are differences

7/10

14. task force z

it's like the above but more just body-armored. really all he's done is remove the jacket and get shoulder pads. 6/10. the negative point is for the lost jacket :(

bonus

7/10 i did say if he ditched the tights i'd rank it higher (twas all a dream through lmao)

15. current

controversial of me, but i think. i think it's fine.

now i do agree his little hoodie is.........well it's not that great. my least favorite part tbh.

the new brown pants nicely contrast, though i have seen this costume with grey pants too?

here we are. The red bandages are fun, i think if they were white i'd hate 'em but the red is interesting. i also like when bits of them are sticking out. idk. cute detail.

i like the muzzle mask as well. that with the hood has given us delightful in shadow!jason where only his eyes glow out. i also like when artists put his white hair tuft out. adorable. probably not what he's going for but that's what the creature no face look is for

really the hoodie is the one thing i'm ??? on. it looks silly in a bad way. there are ways to keep a red hood while giving a better jacket/vest. future state's was much nicer.

7.5/10

this wasn't in the ratings but i do prefer any weapon beyond the crowbar sigh. it starts showing up through a lot of them so i decided to just not do anything about the score.

[storieschats]

Fourth Wing Reactions Book 2 Update 2

Note: Check out the previous reactions here. Comment, reblog and talk to me about books whenever you want to!

Where I am: Page 230 of 719

What I think so far: I'm liking this one less! It's pissing me off a bit more than the first book, not gonna lie.

Positive points:

It can still be read quite quickly, the story is very fast paced, the writing is simple and it's the kind of book you can sit and read for 2 hours straight without getting bored!

Riordan, Rhi and Tairn are still here so there's that.

Negative points:

Xaden and Violet are annoying me so much that I can't stand them anymore. Xaden is giving off Dain vibes honestly with the whole “you have to learn to trust me even if I don't tell you everything and don't get involved” ugh and Violet with her “I want to forgive him but I can't” ugh eye roll.

That speech Violet gives Rhi about how the school helped her deal with battles in the real world and face the deaths in the real battle she had, eye roll so hard, no author don't put a character who is supposed to be intelligent saying that killing half the battalion and traumatizing people before a battle is the right way to do it. Come on, we should be teaching these people how to deal with stress. Trauma makes people less useful not more. And also these people can kill each other without punishment which apart from being a bad way to maintain order in a professional army is a bit bad for group morale xd. I'm not talking about 21 century hindsight, the Romans lived 2000 years ago and knew how to manage armies and militias better than this, perhaps because any moderately rational human being could understand the need to... To have as many people as possible, to have people who are well trained and mentally stable enough to be obedient, to have a united and coherent group who feel like defending each other...

These last few pages have been a bit of a chore, I'm not sure what's annoying me but I think it's everything. I've read 200 or so pages and basically nothing interesting has happened, which I can see why the book is 700 pages long then xd.

Stars so far: Since you want to keep the category I'm at 3 going to 2 unfortunately, this initial part is annoying me a bit but I feel it will get better going forward.

Predictions: I don't have any very interesting predictions because nothing new has happened on these pages. I suppose uhm let me see if I can come up with some even if farfetched: Saywer is going to die just because he's a character whose name I know but don't care about, Tairn is going to end up killing that crazy one-eyed dragon who is the dragon of another even crazier guy who likes to torture everyone. Seriously, someone deal with that guy please.

[glamourgoreandmuchmore]

welcome to the blog! here’s a little about the blog and it’s author! 💋

hey guys! i’m beyond delighted to welcome you to my blog, i’m looking forward to showing you all the future content i have in store.

the blog

the title explains a lot for me here!

if google has the answer to everything, why am i always struggling to find exactly what i want? maybe i’m looking for a very specific book recommendation, a time stamp in a real housewives of beverly hills episodes, and often times, i’m trying to find factual and fun news, not competitive, untrue and boring news.

this blog is my way of sharing my expertise knowledge on all the random topics that have piqued my interest over the last few years, my experience through teenage years leading into early adulthood, books, shows and movies that you all need to experience one time in your life to consider it a life well lived.

i look forward to giving advice, sharing my own experiences to help you lot learn from my mistakes and straight up embarrassing moments.

the title of the blog highlights the basis of the blog, glamour being all things pretty, pink and reality tv in life. ( get ready for a lot of real housewives drama ) i plan to tell all my self learnt tips when it comes to travelling, boyfriends, girlfriends, school work, parents ( ugh ) and everything in between. think of me as a fairy godmother sent with the sole purpose of helping you all through your problems and even non problems

the gore, i do have to admit i chose the word gore simply because it created a catchy title, but that doesn’t mean i won’t include it. the gore i speak of in the title is what i played on in my intro, here i plan to keep all of my lovely readers updated with the current factual news, typically crime and court news ( you’ll see why in my about me section further down ) i aim to keep everyone updated on the current and important news, making sure that everything on this blog is 100% factual and as helpful as it can be

the much more, as i mentioned earlier, my life experiences and interests through the years have left me with valuable experience in many ways, socially, intellectually and especially emotionally, if i do say so myself, i would have to toot my own horn and say that i am a master of emotions, i aim to teach you all the ways i have learnt to process emotion and how to use it in the right way to benefit you. here i also intent to give advice, tell my stories, answer questions and most importantly, recommend.

about the author

so, about me, i’m a 20 year old woman studying at university, my course links closely with court and crime ( i’m sure you can take a guess of what it is ) so that explains my gore section of this blog.

although i am 20, i have lived a life full of experiences and lessons, this is part of the reason i started this blog in fact. you will learn a lot more about me through the blog, through my stories and advice.

music, animals, nature, friends and family ( more importantly, friends who are family ) are the key factors in my life, they’re all i need to maintain my positive and healthy outlook on life. i wasn’t always this way, i have grown and taught myself how to see the world in a better light, and how to look for the positive parts in my day, i’m beyond excited to share this with you guys and hopefully help some of you out too. i’ll leave my about me at that so you guys can learn as you read,

thanks for sticking with me

thank you for reading this post, it really does mean a lot!

remember this is my blog, but it is all about you guys, please don’t hesitate to message me about posts you’d like to see, stories you’d like to hear, problems you have that you’d like me to give advice on ( everything’s anonymous don’t you worry )

i’m looking at putting together a form that you guys can submit your problems to, i plan to post one advice post per week! looking forward to talking to you guys

- 💋

[warmaidensrevenge]

Always seen you.

Pairings: Eddie x Insecure! Plus size reader x friend! Elio x friend Billy

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

A/n: Hello loves. Welcome back to my series. This is part 18. If you would like to read the parts before. You can access them in the link above. I updated it with every post. I would like to give a special thank you to @salenorona23 for helping me with this next part of the series. I was inspired by the song Sad! by xxxtentacion. I would Also like to point out that this official became my longest fic since I started on Tumblr. So yay!! Maybe it's going on a little too long. But I still love it. And I hope you do too. Anywho, thanks for reading. As always feedback is greatly appreciated. Comments and asks are always welcome. Kay love ya byeeee.

P.s. this part was actually too long. That Tumblr said I hit the maximum words. So I cut it in half. I will post the second part immediately.

Warnings: 18+ language, fluff, angst, heartache, sexual situations, mentions of eating disorder, slow burn and not proof read and no word count.

Summary: You finally got your guy. But something always gets in the way. Does true love conquer all?

Part 18

🖤☺️

The moment Eddie saw and heard Ava call him that he covered up the receiver.

" How many FUCKING times do I have to tell you to not call me that?! You know my girlfriend is the only one who's allowed to. And what are you doing in my room?!"

" I'm sorry Eddie baby. I forgot."

" Seriously Ava. I've had it up to here with you."

" Aww don't be that way. I just wanted to ask again if you wanted to come to dinner with us."

" GET THE HELL OUT!"

" You don't have to be rude!"

"AVA!" Jan yelled. "LEAVE EDDIE ALONE!"

Ava scoffed. " I was just asking-"

" IF YOU DON'T LEAVE RIGHT NOW, SO HELP ME?" Eddie shouted again.

" FINE! Be that way." Ava shouted back, stomping away.

" Baby?"

When Eddie didn't get a response. He called out again.

" Y/n...Angel, are you there?" He clicked the button on the base of the phone to see if it was the connection. But then he heard that beeping when someone hangs up.

" Shit!"

Eddie dialed you again but all he got was a busy tone.

"FUCK!"

He tried four more times and still nothing.

" Baby please." He said to himself.

He tried you all night. But all he was met with was that stupid fucking beeping.

The next morning he finally got the voicemail.

" Baby, please. I can explain. Just call me back. I swear that was nothing. I love you okay."

When you didn't call him back he left another message.

" Angel. Look. Please call me back. I really need to talk to you. Please."

A couple of days passed and you still didn't talk to him. He worried that the relationship was over. And there was no way in hell he was going to let that happen. So he left the tour and got on a plane.

It was just a few days before your anniversary and all you could do was lay in bed. You took the phone off the hook when Eddie kept calling.

You couldn't talk to him yet. You needed time to think. He couldn't be cheating on you with Ava. Could he? He promised to never be alone with her. But then why was she there? And why the hell did he let her call him Eds?

Elio tried to comfort you by saying it was probably just a misunderstanding. But all you could hear was Ava calling him baby. And asking if he was gonna come.

The day before your anniversary Elio came into the room and hit you in the head with a pillow.

" Ouch! What was that for?!"

" Get up and get dressed. We're going out."

" Ugh. No, I just want to sleep."

He hit you again. " Nope. You've been sleeping for the past two days. It's time to get up now."

You pointed a finger at him." If you hit me one more time. I swear I'm gonna kick your ass."

" Ohhh you're sexy when you're angry."

You rolled your eyes.

" Common. Seriously. Get up. Let's go get a drink and dance."

" E, I don't want to. Can we just order Chinese and watch a movie or something?"

" No. You need this. You need to dance the sadness away."

" I don't want to dance."

Elio pouted knowing full well that you would never say no to a pout.

" Fine!" You said standing up and heading for the closet.

Elio smiled. " Great. Now wear something sexy."

You whipped your head towards him. " Umm no. That wasn't a requirement."

" It is now. Just dress in your prettiest dress and let your hair down."

" Uhh do I have to?"

" Yes. If you look good. You'll feel good."

" Uhhh can't argue with that logic." You said sarcastically.

Elio pushed you slightly " Just get dressed and let's go."

" Okay…okay. No need to get violent."

" Oh you want violence. I'll show you violence." He said putting you in a headlock.

You quickly put your leg behind his and pushed him down.

" Don't try me E. I have an older brother who used to wrestle with me all the time. And Eddie showed me a few moves."

Elio gave you a thin lip smile when you said his name.

When you realized what you said you cleared your throat. You held out your hand to help him to his feet. You felt like you were gonna cry again so you turned around and went to change.

When you came out of the restroom you were wearing a powder blue dress with little red flowers on the skirt part.

" Wow. You look great."

You gave Elio a small smile and followed him out the room.

…

" Oh my God! Did you see that one guy in the suit?"

You laughed. " E, he was totally hitting on you."

" No thank you. I prefer them with a full head of hair."

You laughed again shoulder bumping him.

" Thank you for dragging me out of bed. I had a really great time."

" You can thank me later."

You turned your head to look at him.

" What?"

You guys rounded the corner of the dorm building and Elio pointed to the front steps.

Your heart fell to your ass. Eddie fucking Munson was sitting on the steps holding a bouquet of flowers.

You stopped and Elio whispered in your ear.

" You love him. So go talk to him."

" What? How?"

" I talked to him the other day."

" You did?"

" Yeah. I explained everything."

You looked at Eddie and felt tears coming.

" Go talk to him."

" I…"

"Go."

You nodded.

" I'll be back tomorrow."

" And where are you going?"

" Oh me?" He leaned back. " I have a date."

He gave you a smirk and walked away.

You took a deep breath before you went to Eddie. Just seeing him had butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Your palms all sweaty and your face feeling hot.

" Hi Eddie."

He looked up and for a split second you caught a glimpse of sadness in his eyes. But then he gave you such a sweet smile. That you forgot why you even stopped talking to him.

He stood up and jogged the few steps to you.

" Hey Angel. You look beautiful."

" No you."

He chuckled a little and started rubbing the back of his neck. " I uhhh these are for you."

He held out the flowers. It was a mixture of roses and sunflowers.

" Thank you. " You said just above a whisper.

You brought the flowers up to your nose and smelled them.

" They're erm I'm sorry/ I've missed you/ I love you flowers."

You looked at Eddie and his smile was gone. He ran his fingers through his hair then rubbed his chin. He was growing a full on beard.

" What are you doing here?" You asked.

He put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ground.

" I…I was supposed to come tomorrow and surprise you for our anniversary. But umm…well I needed to see you."

You were quiet. You didn't know what to say. A part of you wanted to just jump in his arms. But the other part was telling you to wait. To listen to what he had to say.

" Baby." He sighed. " Why didn't you tell me Elio was gay?"

You shook your head and looked away. " I was going to. There's a lot I wanted to tell you. But…you were busy."

Eddie reached for your chin to make you look at him.

" I-I should have believed you when you said nothing was going on…I'm sorry for everything."

" Me too. I'm really sorry for not being honest with you from the start. But Eddie…what is going on with you and Ava?"

Eddie let go of your chin when he saw tears in your eyes. " Angel, I know how what happened seemed like something it wasn't. And I get it if you're still pissed at me. " He took a step towards you.

" Y/n I swear to you. Nothing-"

You cut him off by landing a kiss on his lips. His hands shot up to cup your face as he kissed you back.

You pulled away first but Eddie wrapped his long arms around you so you wouldn't go anywhere.

You looked at his beard and smiled.

Eddie smirked when he saw you bite your lip.

" You like it?"

You met his beautiful big eyes and nodded.

He let out a nose laugh. " I knew you would."

" Do…do you want to come up?"

" I would love to. But what about Elio?"

" He said he has a date. He won't be back tonight."

Eddie smiled to himself and ran his finger over your bottom lip. "I missed these lips."

" Then kiss me and don't stop."

He chuckled. " Anything my queen commands."

He kissed you deeply and with such tenderness you just melted right into him.

When things got heated you pulled away again and grabbed his hand leading him to the room.

As you changed you got sad again. You needed to ask Eddie something

Eddie sat on your bed looking at all the pictures you had of you two. He took off his leather jacket and boots. You came out of the bathroom in baggie clothes and your hair in a high bun. Eddie missed seeing you like this. In your glasses, completely comfortable.

You went to sit with him and started fidgeting with your fingers.

" Eddie?"

Eddie got sad too. You hadn't called him Ed's at all.

"Yeah?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat. " Why was Ava in your room? And why did she call you what I call you?"

Eddie put his big hand on yours. " She uhh she came in to ask if I wanted to go to dinner with her and the others…and she's been trying to call me that for a while. But I ripped her a new one for it. I've been telling her to stop. But she keeps on doing it…I don't know what to do anymore."

You nodded but didn't say anything.

" You believe me right?"

" I...Yes. I just can't shake the feeling she's going to try something."

"Y/n look at me."

You took a deep breath and met his brown hues.

" I don't know what I can say to convince you other than I won't let that happen. You're the one for me. The only one I want to be with…that's why I came. I came here for you. I cancelled two shows to be here with you."

Eddie put one of your hands over his heart. " This is yours. And it beats just for you."

You closed your eyes and hung your head.

Why did you have to say that?

When Eddie saw that. He was confused. Was that not what you wanted to hear?

" Do you not feel the same?"

You sniffled and pressed your lips together.

" I do."

"Then what's wrong baby?"

You shook your head. " I'm tired of this. I'm tired of fighting with you when we're not together. I'm tired of getting hurt so often. I'm tired of worrying if I'm still enough for you."

Eddie let go of your hand and tried to look you in the eye.

" Why does it sound like you're breaking up with me?"

Your eyes shot up. " What?! No Eddie. I don't want to break up."

" Then what are you saying?"

You reached for his face. But pulled away before you touched him.

" Eddie, I love you. But if we're gonna stay together. Something has to change."

" Do you want me to quit the band? Because I will."

You laughed a little. " Eddieee. No. What I want us to do is communicate. I know I screwed up by not telling you about Elio as soon as I found out. Then that would have saved us two arguments. Also I apologize for not talking to you when I should've. You're just as important to me as I am to you. "

You stood up and kneeled in front of him. You grabbed both his hands and kissed each one before looking up at him.

" Eds. I can't imagine my life without you."

" Promise?"

You laughed again and sniffled holding up your pinky.

Instead of hooking your finger with his, Eddie kissed you. He pulled you to your feet without moving his lips from yours. You held onto his narrow hips as he gently tugged at your hair tie.

He pulled away and looked down at you. Lips all pink and swollen, trying to catch his breath.

You looked down and went for his belt. He leaned back and took off his shirt.

Once he was in his boxers, he took off your shirt and kissed down your neck. All the way down to your plush belly. He got down on his knees and went for the hem of your bottoms. While sliding them down your thick thighs he kissed every inch he could.

His voice was soft but deep. " Hold onto me baby."

Your hands went to his shoulders so he could give you support when you stepped out of your undergarments.

Eddie's fingers ran up and down your legs, causing goosebumps in their wake.

"My beautiful Angel."

Your head fell back feeling his lips and hands everywhere. He hadn't even touched you between your legs yet and he had you almost there.

Eddie watched your every move. He listened to every whimper. He didn't know how badly he needed to hear and see that. And from the only person he wanted it with.

He stood up and put a hand behind your head. Pulling you softly into another kiss.

He felt your warm soft hands on his chest. Slowly going down to his boxers.

When your fingers hooked the elastic Eddie kissed you harder. Swirling his tongue against yours. Tugging at your bottom lip gently. Sucking on it before letting it go. You pulled your lip in and sucked it.

His boxers dropped to the ground and he kicked them away.

Your hands found his curls as he moved backwards to sit on the bed.

You didn't straddle him immediately. You just continued to play with his hair and beard. As his hands and lips went all over your body.

" Eds?"

Eddie hummed.

" Please don't hurt me with Ava."

His lips left your tummy and he looked up at you with sadness in his eyes again.

" Never."

You held up your pinky.

With his eyes never leaving yours. Eddie hooked his pinky with yours.

" I pinky promise….I only want you Angel. Just you…always."

You bent over a little and kissed him with all the love you could find. And Eddie did too.

He scooted higher on the bed so that his back was against the headboard of the bed, holding out his arms for you.

You climbed into his lap and kissed him again. This time with much more heat than the last one. Tongues massaging each other. Bottom lips being tugged on and soothed.

Eddie held onto your bottom as you got to your knees, spreading yourself for him.

He grabbed his aching cock and aligned himself with your entrance, that was already soaking wet for him.

You sighed deeply as you sank down to his lap. Eddie's fingers dug deep into the flesh of your hips. He groaned feeling your warm velvet walls hug him. Feeling them contract around him was ecstasy.

" God." He moaned.

Your soft whimpers drove him crazy. Your warm soft body was a blanket to him. One that he loved to dawn on every chance he got.

You started rolling your hips against his. Searching for bliss that only he could provide.

" I'm yours baby. Only yours."

You moaned at his words. Breathless whines left your lips as you got close.

" And I'm yours Eds. All-all of me. My-my heart...my mind...my body...it's yours."

" I love you. I love you so much."

You slowed your movements feeling Eddie fill you to the brim. Mixing with your love.

You rolled off once you caught your breath. With him pulling you into his arms.

" I love you y/n."

" Always?"

Eddie kissed your forehead. " Always and forever."

…

The few days Eddie spent with you were perfect like always. Then he had to leave you again. You would never admit it. But everytime he left, it broke your heart in ways that couldn't be repaired. So you slapped a bandaid on it and focus on school

A week after he left you got a call that the van's tires came in. Elio smiled when he talked to Billy.

" He sounds hot."

" Umm. Yeah. He's pretty cute. He's definitely your type."

" Is that so?" He smirked. " Well let's go see if I can get a date for tonight's party."

You giggled and grabbed the keys.

When you guys got to the shop, Billy was outside smoking. Greeting you with a gorgeous smile.

" Hey sweets."

Elio looked at you and frowned.

" Umm hi."

" Who's this? Your boyfriend?" Billy asked, giving Ellio a handshake.

" No. No. she's my friend…I'm single." Elio winked.

Billy chuckled and looked at you. " You look nice today."

You furrowed your brow and looked at your pajama bottoms and oversized shirt.

" Uhh thanks."

You met his gaze again and he was giving you a beautiful smile.

" So umm ready for some new tires?"

You nodded.

" Great. Pull her in."

As soon as Billy turned around, Elio nudged you.

" What?" You said walking back to the van.

" Well he's not gay."

" How do you know that?"

" We who prefer the same sex can always tell if someone is or isn't. Besides he was totally eye fucking you."

" No he wasn't. He was just being pleasant."

" Yeah…okay."

You rolled your eyes and drove the van in.

When Billy was working you and Ellio went to get ice cream. He suggested you get Billy some too. To see how he reacts. You didn't think it was a good idea. But Ellio bought him a vanilla cone anyway.

When you guys got back Billy had his shirt off and was lighting another cigarette.

" Hey you. Umm we got you an ice cream. Thought you might want something to cool you down."

" Thanks bud."

Billy took the cone and started licking it. Making eye contact with you.

You looked away and felt the heat rise from your chest to your cheeks.

When Billy saw that he tilted his head back and laughed to himself.

" Ready to go."

" Hmm?" You said looking at him again.

" Your van… she's ready."

" Oh- okay. Thank you."

When he handed you the keys his fingers touched yours. Giving you a shock of static electricity. You jumped and dropped the keys.

" Shit. Sorry sweets."

Billy squatted down and picked them up. When he looked up at you he licked the ice cream again. The way he did it. You could tell he was trying to seduce you.

When he handed them back you cleared your throat.

" Can't lose these. My boyfriend would have a fit."

Billy stood up and changed his demeanor. " So you do have a boyfriend?"

You nodded.

There was an awkward silence until Ellio decided he didn't like it.

" Yeah. He's in a band."

Billy looked away from you to Ellio. " Really?"

" Yeah. He's on tour right now."

" Huh. Would I know them?" Billy asked looking back at you.

You smiled thinking of Eddie and the guys. " Not yet. But you will soon. I can feel it. They're close to having the world hear them."

Billy liked that. Like the way your face lit up with enthusiasm talking about them. His only wish was that you didn't have a boyfriend. Even with that knowledge. He still wanted to get to know you.

" Well if they're metal I'm sure I'll like them."

Your smile got bigger. " They are."

Billy couldn't help the smile that grew on him seeing you happy. He didn't even know you but he knew he loved seeing you like that.

" So…Bily is it." Elio interrupted the little moment you and Billy had.

" Yeah man?"

Elio laughed. " So I'm throwing a dorm party tonight. You should come."

" Yeah? Will you be there?" He directed his question to you.

"She better. She lives with me."

" That's cool. So it's not gonna be a sausage fest?"

Elio laughed again. " No. But if that's what you're interested in, I can definitely change the invite list."

Billy chuckled nervously. " Uhh no. Coed parties are cool with me."

" Great! See you there."

Elio grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the van.

" Hold on E. I have to pay him. And he doesn't have the address."

" Damn. I was trying to build suspense."

You shook your head and went back to Billy.

" Umm do you have something I can write on?"

Billy pulled a pencil from behind his ear and grabbed the clipboard with your receipt on it. You quickly jotted down the address and pulled out your wallet.

You gave him the money and pulled off your copy of the receipt.

" See you later."

" Looking forward to it sweets."

You felt yourself blush as you walked away.

Maybe that wasn't a good idea.

That night your room was filled with people that you never met. You had no idea Elio had so many friends.

It got to the point where even the hallway was crowded. The music coupled with all the drunk coeds, it became a lot to absorb. You even had to kick out a couple making out in your bathroom so you could go. When you came back out there were people on your side of the room touching your pictures. You pushed through the crowd and snatched the frame out of their hands. When you looked over your things you saw that someone had knocked over and broke the snow globe Eddie got you from Arizona.

Tears filled your eyes. Sure it was just a snow globe. But Eddie knew you liked them so he bought you one when he could.

You picked up the broken glass and globe. You looked at it for a second then went outside. You sat on the steps and silently cried.

" Hey sweets. What's wrong?"

You looked up and Billy was coming towards you with a concerned look on his face.

" Oh ummm." You wiped away your tears. " It's nothing."

He sat down next to you. " If it's nothing. Then why are you crying?"

You sighed. " It's just." You showed him the broken globe. " It was a gift from my boyfriend."

" I'm sorry."

Billy was actually very sorry. He found out that night that he never wanted to see you sad.

" You know you can now make it into an ornament. You can just add some string around the cactus and hang it on the rearview mirror. Or on your Christmas tree when you put one up."

You smiled. " Yeah. That's a good idea."

" There she is…you're really beautiful when you smile."

You laughed knowing you looked like shit with mascara running down your face.

" Liar. But thanks for trying."

Billy shook his head and laughed too.

" So uhhh you want to go back to the party? Your friend might get suspicious."

" Yeah. He's probably dancing up a storm right now. Wondering where his dance partner is."

" Well let's not keep you away."

Billy stood up and held out his hand. You put all the pieces of the broken snow globe on one hand and took it. When you guys went back inside you broke off the remaining glass still attached to it and threw it in the garbage.

Still smiling at the cactus, you and Billy went up the stairs to the party.

Elio saw you with Billy and grinned. It was nice seeing you with him. Not that Ellio didn't like Eddie. He liked him a lot actually. The way he treated you when he was there was something Elio only saw with his parents. He knew Eddie loved you with all his heart. And he knew Eddie made you happy. So if you loved him, he loved him too. But he couldn't help but think that you and Billy would make some super cute babies.

When you guys finally got to one another, Elio pulled you to start dancing with him. You giggled when he spun you around. He grabbed Billy's hand after and made him dance too.

Billy was glad he came. Seeing you and Elio messing around was nice. Seeing you was nice.

Billy had to admit. He liked you. But you had a boyfriend. So he had to settle being your friend.

Over the next few weeks. Billy hung out with you and Elio nearly every day. He always brought with him two flowers. One for Elio and one for you.

You told Eddie all about how Billy helped with the van and asked if it was okay that you could be his friend. Eddie replied that you don't have to ask his permission. And that he trusted you completely.

One day you had asked Eddie if he could make it to an award banquet that you had to attend. You were receiving an award for your role in developing a disposable camera called The Fling. It was a great achievement for a freshman. So you and the other members of the team were being honored for the night. Include a few other engineers. But this was the first time an award came with money. Not that it mattered. You were doing just fine. But it was nice to put something in your savings.

Eddie was really sorry he couldn't come. He really was so proud of you. He always was. And he felt bad for missing the night. So he suggested you ask Elio or Billy.

Elio wanted to go too but he had a swim meet that day. And he wouldn't be back in time. Leaving you to ask your other friend.

Billy was happy to escort you to the dinner. More than that. It was the first time you and he spent time alone. Well kinda alone.

Billy had been holding his tongue for a while now. He really wanted to tell you that he had feelings for you. And there were so many times he found a small amount of courage to do so. But then you would bring up Eddie. Or Elio would. Making him change his mind.

It got harder and harder not to tell you that he was falling for you. But he always told himself that if he was your boyfriend and Eddie wanted to tell you he loved you. He would kill him. So he pushed his feelings for you deep down. He even started going on dates. Just to try and find a girl to distract him from you. But what he was searching for in all of them he could never find. That was because what he was looking for they didn't have.

They didn't have the smile that made him smile. They didn't have a laugh that sounded like music. They didn't have grace or humor. They weren't brilliant or geeky like you were. He just had to admit that what he was seeking was the stuff that made you, you.

Though it hurt him being around you. He couldn't not be.

When he arrived to pick you up you were wearing this beautiful off the shoulder burgundy cocktail dress. That was hugging you just right.

" Damn sweets! You clean up nice."

You smiled. " So do you. Where the hell did you find a suit so fast?"

" Borrowed my old man's. But I made it my own."

You looked at his outfit. With his Chuck Taylors and shirt that was showing most of his chest. " I see."

He laughed and opened your door for you. He of course had a flower for you.

" Thank you."

" You're welcome sweets."

Billy closed the door and walked over to the driver's side. When he got in he gave you a smirk.

"Ready?"

" No. But let's do this."

Billy nodded and took off.

…

" Did you get enough to eat?" Billy asked as soon as you guys got back in the car.

" Ugh. No. I don't understand rich people. Like no, this cracker and fish eggs is not enough. And a baked potato?! A potato and butter is not a meal….where's the salt and pepper? What about chives?"

Billy laughed while you shook your head.

"Okay. I was gonna say if you did. There's something wrong with you."

" Please. I like to eat. Obviously." You said gesturing at your large tummy.

" Stop it. You're beautiful. "

You raised a brow at him" I didn't say I wasn't. Just said I like to eat."

" Oh…confident are we?"

You gave him a toothy smile. " Sometimes."

" Well it works."

You gave him a playful push and laughed.

" Let me buy you pizza William."

He turned to look at you when you said his legal name.

" How did-"

" I know your name? Common. Billy is a nickname, sometimes it can be Bill, Will, Willie. Whatever you choose. But it's all short for William."

Billy grinned.

" So pizza?"

" Sure."

" Great! I hope you like extra pepperoni."

" That's all I ever get."

" Well that's perfect. Because I love pepperoni." You said with a smile

When you guys got the pizza you and Billy sat in the parking lot eating and talking.

" Okay okay. I got one. Gandalf versus the Scarlet witch. Annndd go."

" Oh shit….okay." you covered your mouth that was full of pizza.

You chewed vigorously so you could answer.

" Okay. Umm. I have to say. Gandalf."

" Why?" Billy said with one of his cheeks filled with pizza.

" Well let's look at the stats. Gandalf is higher in pretty much everything. Intelligence, strength, durability, and combat. Sure, Scarlett Witch is powerful. But, Gandalf is stronger and older."

Billy laughed. " Okay I agree with that."

You guys sat for a while going back and forth with hero vs hero.

" You know I think you and Eddie would get along."

"You think so?"

" Definitely."

There was a moment of silence.

" Can I ask you a question sweets?"

" Sure."

" Is it hard? Being in a relationship with someone you barely see."

You looked down at your lap. " Yes."

" Do… Do you ever want out?"

" No. What I want is for us to see each other more. But I've accepted that this is how it's going to be."

" Why settle for just that?"

" It's not settling. It's making the best of the situation. See I have loved Eddie for a long time. He was the only person I've ever really wanted to be with. He showed me what it's like to actually be seen. To be desired…Eddie has been everything I wanted in a person. I never believed in soul mates or anything like that. But when I look at him I see my other half."

Billy nodded. He wanted someone like that. Someone who sees him the way you saw Eddie.

" Eddie is a lucky guy."

You smiled. " I like to think I'm the lucky one. Everyone wants to find the one person who feels like home to them. And I was lucky enough to find mine."

Billy's heart sank. He felt that way about you. But he couldn't let himself say that. You were in love with Eddie. And he couldn't get between you two. No matter how he felt about you.

…

Eddie's birthday came up so fast. He was on the road again so you couldn't call him. But he did receive a package. He opened it and found a birthday card and a video tape.

He smiled and popped it in the vcr.

He was immediately met with Elio's face. He was setting up the camera. Elio made a funny face and stood back. Eddie watched as Elio sat on the bed with you.

" Happy birthday Eddieeee!" You both said with a smile.

He laughed.

You looked directly into the camera and gave him a big smile.

" I hope you have the best day Eds. I wish I could be there with you."

Me too. Eddie thought.

Elio got up and stepped out of frame.

" Eds, I can't wait to see you. I love you so much."

I love you too.

" So I really don't think I can top last year's birthday gift. But I'm gonna try…I've been working on a little something. Thanks to Billy I learned a new trick."

Eddie watched you get up and grab something. He grinned when you came back with an acoustic guitar.

"So this baby doesn't slay dragons. But I love her anyway. Her name is Shelia."

Eddie laughed.

He leaned forward on the bed when you started to pluck the guitar strings.

Eddie couldn't figure out what you were playing until you started to sing. You did your own slower acoustic version of Caught Up In You.

🎵

I never knew there'd come a day

When I'd be sayin' to you

"Don't let this good love slip away

Now that we know that it's true"

Don't, don't you know the kind of girl I am

No, said I'd never fall in love again

But it's real and the feeling comes shining through

So caught up in you, oh boy

And I never did suspect a thing

So caught up in you, ohh boy

That I never want to get myself free

And baby it's true

You're the one

Who caught me baby you taught me

How good it could be

🎵

Eddie started tearing up listening to you. And when you kept going, he fell in love all over again. When the song came to an end you looked back into the camera.

" I hope you liked it Eds. Happy birthday my love."

You got up and got closer to the camera.

" I miss you." You blew him a kiss. " Oh and have one for me."

Eddie looked up and saw Gareth in the door way with cupcakes.

Eddie looked back at the screen and you were smiling. The tape cut off and Eddie hung his head and laughed. With tears of happiness rolling down his cheeks.

I love you baby.

...

@chloe-6123 @irishhappiness @idkidknemore @hiscrimsonangel @hellv1ra @browneyes528 @b-irock @erinsingalong @salenorona23 @eddie-is-a-god @screaming-blue-bagel

[steviesays]

January Fic Recs

I'm back :')

Application of Virtual Systems by inalienable_wright

Fandom: Community

Jeff losing his mind, post-canon, what else is new - I really love post-canon Community fics that center Jeff and Annie and this one is off to a great start!! Its inspired by another one of my favorite Jeff/Annie fics, Everybody Knows, in which they both focus on Jeff trying to cope with being alone for the first time in 6 years and the fact that there was still so much left unfinished between him and Annie at the end of the series. I'm terrified the upcoming movie is going to absolutely obliterate all my headcanons so I need to read as many of these types of fics as possible before that happens :)

Every dog has its day by Pikkulef

Fandom: FMAB

This was a fun little fluff story about Roy and Hayate clashing over their love for Hawkeye Sidenote: please also read everything else by this author including but not limited to Everyone learns faster on fire

Starve the Ego, Feed the Soul by @onthearrow

Fandom: FMAB

Can't even tell you guys how excited I've been for every update of this fic !!! It's post-canon Royai and I'm so sad its going to be ending soon, but have enjoyed the ride so thoroughly

But Satisfaction Brought It Back by Starship_Phoenix

Fandom: FMAB

Second cute animal fic for January interesting ... Roy bonds with a cat against his will its a fun little read

Old Friends by foolishfalls

Fandom: FMAB

I love a little Ed and Riza bonding fic and this one was really great! I really like exploring the parallels between their characters and this story was a lighthearted delve into that dynamic. Extra points for the ending :)

When Thou Shalt Come To Judge the World By Fire by BewareTheGemini

Fandom: FMAB

When I say I love this fic ... so much ... angst, young Royai, their guilt about the war, the tragic romance, like this one has really just been hitting all of the correct buttons and I love it !!!!!!!

The Strictly Professional Series by NothingSoDivine

Fandom: FMAB

Royai smut - these two are so strange and I love them

low stakes by zauberer_sirin

Fandom: FMAB

I actually first read this story a while ago but come back to it every now and then when I want to smile :) Royai bed sharing, my loves

artificial destiny by RoryMarx (AuroraKant)

Fandom: FMAB

Depressing Royai soulmates fic (with a twist !!!!) we absolutely love to see it

The Literary Romanticism in B-Roll by slomyroll

Fandom: Community

This series is kind of a retelling of the show through the lens of Jeff and Annie's shifting relationships throughout it and I've loved it !!!!

cover (but come undone) by tsaritsaa

Fandom: FMAB

Some light post-canon Royai angst ugh we love the resolution of communication issues they cARE ABOUT EACH OTHER !!!!

I actually read a lot more than I thought I did this month haha I'm glad to get back into giving monthly rec lists because I do want to be more active/involved in fandom outside of just liking the occasional post :') a lot of these authors I just linked back to their AO3 page because I didn't know what their blog was, so if you know them, please let them know I loved their fic!! And as always, please feel free to send me your fic recs, I'm always reading and always looking for something new!

[morphogenetic]

Mediaposting 2023, #35: Banana Fish (anime)

[said while vibrating very quickly and typing out like 20 different bullet points] i like this series a normal amount

okay so. non-spoiler thoughts:

step 1 YOU SHOULD READ/WATCH THIS. it does have content warnings for literally everything you can possibly think of as needing a common content warning (drug abuse, sexual assault, racism, and thats absolutely just the tip of the iceberg) but my fucking god. no wonder it's been such an influential piece of media on literally every jp anime/manga crime story (especially the BL ones) written since

for a series that is literally one of the early genesis points of BL as a genre i was ABSOLUTELY expecting more actual BL than was in this LOL. not that i'm really upset, bc honestly i really like the way that ash and eiji's relationship is written in a shoujo-y "they obviously care about each other a lot but it's not going to be outright romance" kind of way. bc like, honestly? that makes it way more emotionally satisfying (and devastating). i think it would actually make less sense if anything more happened In the story (though more happening in the epilogue wouldnt hurt LOL)

how the FUCK was this published in a shoujo magazine

the time period change to modern day from the mid-80's has both helped and hindered this series bc like. on one hand. much easier to do everything with a phone. also the update to shorter's character design was excellent,10/10 no notes. on the other hand. the Everything About It makes it so obvious that it was written to be a product of its time.

speaking of ^ ash turning from A Guy Who Knows How To Use A Computer into a hacking genius is so. why. i mean you can update it for sure but Why Like This

god i wish this had more room to breathe sometimes bc the exposition goes WILDLY fast sometimes. why did they try and do 19 volumes in 24 episodes. the 39 episodes that the director wanted would have been so nice to have

that said: the emotional moments that i actually give a shit about and that make up the core of the weight of the story are given what they deserve. at least up to volume 5 they are. gestures at ep 9? and 22 with a pained smile

i literally could write an essay about why it works so well as a spin on the american-style gangster story even while it definitely has flaws. and how its influenced so many fucking things. my god.

it has flaws for SURE but the rest is so good that i don't care. which is rare for me (gestures at nirvanai/neo twewy being other examples)

spoiler thoughts under the cut (like full-very-ending-of-series spoilers) but YEAH UH I LIKE THIS THING CAN YOU TELL BY HOW MUCH I WROTE ABOUT IT.

it does kind of annoy me that literally all of the canon-MLM (probably gay but you know) guys are horrible people lol. like wow love how the gay predator stereotype is on full display here. feeeeels baaaaad. i know i know asheiji homoeroticism i am ON THAT TRAIN

however yut-lung being feminine out of a wish to carry on his dead mom's legacy is kind of a slay. ive seen people go "ugh it sucks that one of the villains is a feminine man' but while he is definitely not a good person hes one of the less terrible villains, just like. as a person. hes also a teenager in shitty circumstances just with way more power and sway

here's the part where I admit that I was spoiled on the ending so it didn't hit as hard for me OOPS. however. the anime DOES leave it open-ended and it fucking irritates me that anime-only people are like "boo i hate the ending bc ash dies!!!" when it is LITERALLY AMBIGUOUS. i have heard that the manga is less ambiguous about it but :') oh well. anime-onlys what are you doing

speaking of ^ i actually like the ending. like i think a lot of people who absolutely hate it must not have a lot of familiarity with gangster movies as a genre bc it is a genre convention that the Main Gangster dies in the end. granted this was a hayes code thing which the manga definitely did not have to do LOL but its definitely supposed to feel unfair bc ash's damn LIFE is unfair.

however i'm glad the anime makes the ending ambiguous bc that feels like a more fitting end. like ash's life was always in limbo, considering what he was doing, so making his life in limbo at the end too? Good. Yes. Do That

the fucking. everything with shorter and the sa-yo-na-ra bit. i die. that shit is so emotionally painful

i know this sounds weird but i kind of wish they dragged out the "what the hell does banana fish mean" thing a LIIIITTLE longer but by that i mean like, halfway point of the series. like they could have used a little more time to figure out what it is. also that would have let shorter live a little longer ay lmao that said this criticism also almost definitely applies to the manga soooo. you know

[sorcerous-caress]

Ugh, it finally happened! Khal'ian and Kira's saves are fully cooked! So close to finishing act3 with my boy! 😓

Well, it gives me an excuse to finally remake Kira or create Khal'ian's in-lore manic best-friend Issal.

Welp, time to test honor mode with new subclasses!🤗

I'll work on more Wyll/Kira drabbles later tonight, but I have a question.

Do any of your Tav/Durges co-exist? Would they be pre-game friends/foes/lovers? I find it fun to branch out and see the characters I create interact with each other.

-githzerai anon

You can try to downgrade the game version and script extender versions to finish the saves off if you were really close to the end!

Also in the new endgame epilogue, Voss sends a letter that mentions the githzerai canonly in game! I thought of you when i saw it. If you're okay with spoilers lmk and I'll post it.

Also dude, honour mode is fucking brutal. One save file, you can't reload and if you die in the tutorial ship the whole save is nuked. All the rolls are inflated with a higher check number, I couldn't recruit Us because i failed the mutiliate roll despite having advantage. So many other people mentioned failing the Wyll Karlach pers roll and the pulling Gale out of the portal roll too. It's full on sadistic and I'm loving it but I can't go far yet because I'm still waiting on my favourite mod to update.

As for the Tav/Durge question, they definitely share a common dragon theme, I based them on different dragon species for fun.

First Tav was based on a gold dragon, friendly, chatty, noble heritage, extroverted and flirty. Romanced Astarion. Backstory is them being a noble supposed to take over the head of their family soon but got kidnapped, comes back to finding out the previous head got murdered and everyone in their family is a suspect except them since they were far away. Their dream person was a half-elf women. Gets thrown off the ship with a small baby red dragon that serves their family, followed them here. Hoards eggs/gold/gems.

First Durge was based on a red dragon, prideful, rude, arrogant, easily jealous, competitive and loves flattery. Romanced Minthara. They're not native to Baldur's Gate and instead come from a far away land in the east, they don't remember much since losing their memory, they hold a lot of Gortash themed stuff in their inventory not knowing why or who it belonged to. Their dream person was a drow man. Hoards bones/skulls/corpses.

Latest Tav is based on a brass dragon, loves to talk/sing, overconfident, cute, bad at being humble, anime magical girl tropes. Romanced Wyll. Multiclassed into bard, backstory is that they are a famous popstar that recently went solo from their band, too used to only dealing with fans so they tend to be offputting to normal people, they were touring in Baldur's Gate when they got kidnapped. Their dream person was a dragonborn man (mod). Hoards books/art/statues.

How do they relate? I'm not sure, maybe they're the same person but a different dragon lineage each time that drastically alters their life? Maybe they're long lost siblings? Maybe they don't know each other.

Well except two of them. I made a durge high elf guy for Minthara to abuse on a playthrough once, he is friends with my first Tav and i made them his dream person but they got separated ontop of the ship.

I mostly think about how my characters would interact with other people's characters, I think most of my Tavs or Durges would be indifferent to each other.

Khal'ian for example, I can say my first Tav would consider him a friend, maybe get a bit protective.

First Durge would be condcending with him and compares his shortcomings to Laezel a lot.

Latest Durge would be very friendly and think he needs encouragement to get out of his shell, might even be pushy about it.

I try to switch up the companions too on each playthrough to make it like it's an alternative dimension where every shifted a bit. Aka the werewolf Shadowheart au or the younger Gale one, since the more playthroughs you do, the more dialogue and scenes you start skipping so their canon plot gets old quickly and writing your own sounds more interesting.

But i do make them all human, all of my characters except that one high elf guy made specifically for Minthara. I genuinely have the biggest hard on for humans. i really think they're neat.

And my first dnd character was a dragonborn paladin yet here i am in human sorcerer heaven/hell?

What about you anon? Do Kira and Khal'ian know each other? What about the best friend you mentioned? Do any of them co-exist?

First Tav - Gold Dragon

First Durge - Red Dragon

Latest Tav - Brass Dragon

[pokeexehasstoppedworking]

Diamond In The Rough Ch5 A New Life- College Life That Is P2

(WARNING: The houndoom is in poor shape, not anything too extreme but still you're warned just in case also more mentioning of Zen's scars. What should we name the houndoom? And What pokemon do you guys want reader to catch in later chapters? There can only be three tho and native to Galar.)

As soon as the door closed ...you instantly regretted saying that because you ended up reflecting on what you just said...and ended up slamming your forehead against the door making Stacy look back up from her papers and Emerald still gaped like a goldfish as you groaned in frustration heat coming to your face.

How embarrassing!!

You just wanted to thank him but the way you came off was so embarrassing! What were you even thinking! 'You're pretty too?!' UGH!! He must be annoyed considering how many people already compliment him-...Well, he DID call you pretty first which again made your face light up a brighter red again. Because why would he say that!? You were sitting right next to him and were sure about what he said-...Well there was a perfectly logical explanation for all of this-

"Um..Y/n?," Stacy asked raising a brow from where she sat, eyeing your form slumped face first against the door. "Are you alright there?"

".....I'm good."

"Oh. Ok. Your pokemon were a bit chaotic when I came back. I gave them some food which seemed to calm them down for a while, but you might want to go check in on them."

"...Yeah." You pushed yourself off the door and briskly walked towards your room. "I-I'll go do that."

Well, like I was saying- There was a perfectly logical explanation for this. Gordie was widely known for interacting with his many, many, MANY fans on a personal level and complimenting others, so for him to call you pretty ONE time out of all of the times you two saw each other was nothing to make a big deal out of, besides...You were kinda used to Raihan doing it. The only difference between Raihan and Gordie was that Gordie wasn't trying to be flirty or saying it in a way to try and impress you. When he said it, it sounded like-...A genuine compliment from a nice person. You didn't know Gordie for a long time, but considering he saved your life you could assume he was a good person at heart. Plus you were just embarrassed you blurted that out without thinking just wanting to return the favor but it just came off like you were flirting back!! UGH!! Hopefully he'll just think you're joking and not think you were flirting with him or not think much of it at all. To distract your mind you just turned back to getting in your room where you were immediately jumped on by Silver who chirped and latched onto your leg in a death grip and a little aways from you Zen was giving an annoyed, ears back glance from the bed.

You sighed. "I know, I know. I'm sorry for disappearing on you guys. I just needed to go out for a little while. It won't happen again."

And you didn't. You figured if you ran into anymore trouble it'd be a better idea to have two pokemon you could battle with instead of being taken off guard again. Things returned to normal pretty quickly after that. You got a few calls from your friends on Christmas and a Christmas card from Stacy, you were still studying and a little bit tired from all your busy classes, you continued shopping for supplies when you needed them, and as busy as you were you weren't able to see Gordie again or figure out what happened with the whole bandit situation but you did get a semi-update from Emerald gossiping very, very, VERY loudly on her phone on particular night in between her complaining of classes-

"Did you hear what happened yesterday?," she spoke loudly on the other side of your wall to someone on her phone, "....What? No! I'm not talking about Mrs. Cedar's botched dye job! I'm talking about that nasty bandit that was caught the other night! Apparently he's been caught breaking into a Pokemon Daycare looking for a rare pokemon, was caught red handed trying to break into their rotomi system....*scoff* No, I don't know why! He's probably some little man who's dumb enough to get caught! ...Ahmhmhmhm!~ Gordie now...*sigh*...He's really cute isn't he?~"

And you were back to trying to ignore what she was LOUDLY saying! Seriously, HOW was Stacy able to sleep with Emerald like this? You supposed she just must've been a deep sleeper. January went by pretty fast and like normal. It was all mostly just last classes and reviewing things you went over the previous few months since the finals would be taking place next months. You spent all your free time studying hard and doing your homework for the last few classes until February finally descended upon you and the events of the fountain incident left your mind almost entirely as you had bigger things to worry about for now. There would be two weeks left of the school year. The first two weeks of February would be the last two weeks of the school year. The first week would be for all the exams and studying, and the second week was for the students to pack up their dorms, finish whatever business they had left before the R.A.s did one last dorm inspection, donate any books or uniforms that could still be used or resold back to the school, and whatever needed to be done before your grades were emailed back and weather or not you passed the school year. The summer months was for the staff to wind down and prepare for the next year and cleaning of the university. The first of the last two weeks was stressful to say the least. It felt like you were trying to pass your senior year in high school again, but at least the materials (aside from match-) weren't so hard to remember since you've already done similar things before, didn't mean it was less stressful to do. Once the week was over is when you finally got a chance to relax back and take a breather.

The last week-...

You woke up one morning in the middle of the week to some loud yelling from Emerald again. She was yelling at who you assumed was her 'boyfriend' who was helping (moving all her stuff by himself-) to move her stuff out of her dorm room now that her last year was finished and she wanted to leave as soon as possible. Not being able to get back to sleep with all the noises you ended up dragging yourself out of bed and opening your door blinking tiredly in your pjs just as a man walked past carrying a pretty big box overflowing with clothes making you blink more.

"What the-"

"Y/n!," you turned your head over and saw Stacy smiling from her own doorway holding a much smaller box, "Good morning! Did we wake you up?"

"Kinda. What are you two doing this early in the morning?"

"Moving out. We have until Friday to get all of our belongings out of here, so we're leaving and cleaning before the R.A.s inspection. If you wouldn't mind helping me cleaning the common room and kitchen before I leave that'd be great."

"Huh? ...Oh. Uh sure. Give me a moment."

You were quick to get dressed and came back out just as Emerald walked out the door and gave a hand to Stacy cleaning up the small living room/kitchen area which as small as the space was, didn't take too long to sweep, mop, and wipe down the few countertops before helping Stacy to move all her small boxes and bags to the living room so she could freely clean out her own area. You both finished under two hours and Emerald just left her own room door opened and didn't come back within that time period. You were probably going to have a harder time sweeping up and cleaning your own room since Zen got red and white fur all over the place. It was easy enough to pack up all your belongings and shoo your pokemon into the living room for the moment so they wouldn't bothering you trying to vaccumm Zen's shed fur out of the carpet. Stacy poked her head into your room for a moment with a smile.

"Hey. I'm going to wash all of our bedding. You want me to take yours too? It seems you're gonna be busy for a while."

"Yeah. That'd be great thanks. It's gonna take me all day to rake all this fur up."

And it did...kinda. You had to vacuum the entirety of the room at least four to five times to get all the shedded fur out of the carpet and afterwards clean your small bathroom before the inspection two days from now. Stacy returned sometime in the middle of this with your bedsheets you just left on top of the mattress. And during ALL of this Emerald STILL hadn't returned despite it being in the middle of the day now. Which wasn't strange considering she usually disappeared for hours on end and came back at insane hours later, but you three only had three days (counting today) to clean out your dorm and turn in your keys so shouldn't she be here cleaning out her own room? Stacy was already nice enough to clean the bed sheets C.U. provided and leave them on top of her bed, but surely she would be coming back to clean out her own room right?...Well you were about to find out how bad of a roommate Emerald actually was when Stacy popped her head back in to ask another question while you were busy scrubbing your bathroom floor.

"Hey. I'm dropping off my reusable text books. Since I'm already done packing and everything, do you want me to drop yours off too? You seem to be pretty busy," she offered and you smiled tiredly at her.

"Yeah thanks! They're a bit heavy tho, get Zen and I'll have him help you carry them back to the library."

"Sweet!"

That was half an hour ago, Stacy took Zen and your pile of books and went to go delivery them to the library to be resold to other students who needed them. To be honest you were kinda glad you could just donate them so you didn't have to be stuck with books you'd never use again after this year. You had just finished cleaning the bathroom and finished putting the cleaning supplies away when Stacy came back with your zangoose, and she looked at you with a deadpanned, annoyed, and so done look.

"Hey. Is everything ok? You look like someone stole your lunch money."

"Worse. I was down at the front desk turning in our books and my room key, and guess what I found out?," she asked in an annoyed tone hands on her hips as she turned to you.

You rose a brow at her unusual annoyed look on her otherwise happy face and asked, "What?"

"Well I was told I was the second one from our room to turn in our shared room key. Which means that Emerald LEFT campus already!"

Your eyes widened. "WHAT!? What do you mean she left already? Wasn't she supposed to help us clean up? We practically did everything waiting for her to come back!"

She nodded. "I know. But that's not the worst part."

"What is?"

She didn't say anything but Stacy instead walked right on over to Emerald's room where her door was still partially opened and using her hand, harshly pushed the door open in her annoyance and just looked into the room. Oh right. Stacy went in there once to grab her bedsheets and wash them for everyone and placed them back while you all waited for Emerald to return, so she must've known what the inside of her room looked like. You, being curious now, walked on over to stand by her and looked into the opened doorway, and it was that moment you felt your jaw drop and eyes widen in horror at the absolute MESS the room was in! IT WAS A HUGE MESS!! All over the floor was crumpled up papers, old food wrappers, a few pieces of clothing you guessed the prissy Emerald didn't want enough to take with her, a few random posters taped to the walls one of which was partially hanging off. The tops of the C.U. provided desk and dresser were cluttered with old make up product containers, and magazines and you could see one of the dresser drawers was opened, the reason being was because it was stuffed TO THE BRIM with random knick knacks and junk no one would really wanna keep, and a broken phone charging cord hung limping from the ceiling fan. THE. CEILING. FAN. The only 'clean' space that was to be seen was the bed that was just a bare mattress with the neatly folded and cleaned bedsheets sitting on top of it. You both stared at the horror before you both before slowly looking at one another...and Stacy turned to walk back towards the kitchen.

"H-Hey! Where are you going?"

"To grab some gloves and some bleach. I'll be needing them if I want to tackle that bathroom. Go grab a trash bag and just start throwing that trash away will you?"

Now you weren't sure why Stacy would take it upon herself to clean someone else's mess let alone her bathroom, but she was nice enough to help you out so you'd do this to help her not cover for Emerald who left this entire mess behind for the both of you to clean for her. She seemed to be tackling the part you really didn't think you'd want to do so you'd tackle the rest of this mess. The first thing to go was that over stuffed, useless knick knack drawer you just dumped into the bag you'd gotten as well as anything else you found tucked away inside the drawers before bending down to start just grabbing all the random trash scattered along the carpeted floor and desk area with a scowl on your face. How could someone do this!? This was a low thing to do to someone, leaving someone else to clean up your mess. Well you guessed you got the easy part. Picking up all the trash and tearing the old, tattered posters off the walls. By the time you were finished packing up all the random crap lying around everywhere, the bag was full and tied up by you and you weren't sure how badly the mess Stacy was cleaning was, but she was still working on it by the time you were done chucking the trash bag away and came back. So you just decided to finish up the rest of the clean up by yourself, wiping off the desk and then starting to sweep up the carpet with the small vacuum cleaner. Just wanting to get this entire thing over with. You couldn't believe Emerald! She was a terrible roommate. You were just glad you wouldn't have to interact with her again. It all seemed to be going well. You'd be done, Stacy had now just come out from the bathroom which reeked of cleaning products now, and you were almost done sweeping up the carpet. All that was left was under the bed, which you bent down to shove the vacuum under to sweep under the bed when it happened. The sweeper made a clogged muffled noise and you pulled it back only to find a single tattered old purse attached to the end stuck in the sucking bit.

"OH FOR THE LOVE OF ARCEUS!!", you shouted quickly pulling back and just yanking the thing out from the vacuum's grasp until it came free with a sound and you tossed the broken purse aside.

The tear in the once nice purse's side was made bigger when you yanked it out of the vacuum's grasp with a 'rrrriiiippp' sound before you tossed it to the side to throw it away later. The small hand bag was tossed to the side by the desk and you went back to sweeping under the bed, not noticing the small red, white, and black ball popping out of the purse with a thud sound and rolling under the desk as you continued to clean away. Or the small clicking sound as it opened after hitting the wall or seeing the bright white light as something came out under the desk. Instantly hiding from anyone on instinct. Once you were done sweeping the last of under the bed, the small vacuum was switched off and with a sigh you trudged back into the common room, red eyes following you, to place the small machine back into the closet Stacy had cleaned out earlier today. Speaking of Stacy, the Nurse Joy in the making was tiredly plopped on the Sofa surrounded by her boxes of belongings, but looked up when you walked in.

"Hey. Are you finished with your part?," she asked tiredly.

"Almost. She left a surprise piece of trash under the bed and I have to pick that up." You gestured to the many boxes around her after closing the closet. "You need any help taking those boxes anywhere?"

Stacy shook her head with a sigh. "My mom and granny are coming by later today to help me take my stuff home before my graduation ceremony next week, but thanks for the offer. What about you? Do you need any help packing?"

You shook your head. "Nah. I don't own a whole lot of things personally, and what I do own all fits in my big backpack anyways. I should be all done packing anyways considering I cleaned-" Oh wait. Your head turned towards Emerald's room again. "And speaking of which, I'd better go pick that purse back up. It'd be annoying to just clean everything up and leave just one thing."

Stacy blinked. "She left something in there besides trash?"

You deadpanned. "No. It's still trash, but for some reason she had the genius idea to leave a stupid purse under the bed."

Stacy could only give a 'you've gotta be kidding me' look as you just turned back around and marched back into the room. You saw the old tattered purse alright. It was laying on the floor where you left it. Lying right there on the floor in front of the now bare desk like a single reminder to the extra work you both had to do today. Sigh. You didn't even know why you both cleaned it to begin with. It was Emerald who made and then left this mess without even a good bye to the two of you to clean like you were her personal maids. You guessed Stacy just didn't want to get in any trouble with C.U. when she was literally about to graduate and you didn't blame her. With Emerald gone that rude director might insist the two of you pay to clean the mess or Emerald might've said the room actually belonged to one of you instead of her, and she was already gone anyways, so it'd just be easier to clean it up and move on with your lives at this point. So you leaned down to picked up the purse to just toss it into the trash since it was really the last thing for you both to really do at this point-

GROWL!!

You jumped almost dropping the hand bag in your hands at the sudden dog like snarl that came from no where and on instinct your head whipped around behind you expecting to see Zen in the doorway. The growl didn't even sound remotely like your zangoose but sometimes he'd give off a growl if he was hungry and wanted you to feed him. And you expecting to see him staring at you from the doorway having woken up from his nap in the kitchen to demand you feed him, but blinked when you saw no one there. What the-

GROWL!!

You jumped again and looked forward when you realized when that growl was coming from IN FRONT of you, ...and your eyes widened. Red eyes glared out at you from the shadows and pearly white fangs were shown from curled back lips looking at you with malice as you could only stare at them in sudden fear. HOLY ARCEUS!! WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT THING!? The monster under the desk gave off another loud snarl as you gulped at it. It continued to stare at you- Until it lunged at you. In a blur so much happened so fast. You screamed and fell backwards, there was a blur of black and red launched at you, and in an instant another blur of white and red slammed into the first blur smacking it to the ground.

"Y/N!?", Stacy's voice called out as soon as you yelled and rushed to the doorway when you didn't answer.

The reason you couldn't answer was because all heck was breaking lose right in front of you. Your eyes widened to the size of plates as Zen was there wrestling with the monster from under the desk as it wriggled and snarled from under his massive weight. The dog like beast thrashed uselessly under the zangoose's much heavier weight, one of Zen's giant clawed paws tightly wrapped around it's red muzzle easily keeping it firmly shut and from biting you, the other paw pressed down hard on it's head between two curved horns keeping it to the ground as Zen sat on top of it's back keeping it from standing. The thing continued to try and get loose from under him to no avail as you just stared at it.

"Y/N!?," Stacy yelled at the sight before her. "What in Arceus's name is going on!?"

"IT'S A HOUNDOOM!!"

The dog-like pokemon that had lunged at you was in fact, indeed a bloody HOUNDOOM!! Zen had rushed in and effectively body slammed a bloody houndoom to the floor and was now sitting on him as the thing thrashed around under it-

"ZANG!" The voice of Zen cried out making the houndoom under him freeze as the zangoose leaned closer with a scowl and growl of his own. The long claws of the pokemon forcefully pulling the houndoom to look him right in the eye and those red eyes narrowed. "...HIIISSSSSSSSS!!!!"

Now you had absolutely NO idea what Zen said to him as you obviously didn't speak pokemon, but the reaction from the houndoom made you think you didn't want to know what was said, because the houndoom paused, gave a kicked dog whine, and went limp in the grip of Zen. You however used this time to jump to your feet and jumped when Stacy grabbed your shoulders with a concerned look.

"Y/N! Are you alright!? I thought you were a goner there!" She then looked to Zen who dropped the houndoom's head but refused to get off it's back. By now Silver had poked his head into the doorway and chirped in surprise seeing the random fierce pokemon Zen sat on. "And where in the world did THAT come from?!"

You shook your head and looked down at the houndoom who still glared at everyone around him, but didn't dare move with the way Zen was currently scowling at him. "I have no idea....Hold this." Stacy blinked as you shoved the broken purse into her hands and she gawked with a weird noise as you just KNEELED DOWN TO BE FACE TO FACE WITH THE HOUNDOOM!!

"Uh...WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? Don't you know that thing just tried to bite your head off!? Why would you get near it!?"

"I've dealt with falling through the sky, chased by an onix, fighting a giant legendary pokemon twice, getting sent to the hospital, falling into a fountain head first, and getting hit face first by a giant roof tile. I'm not scared of a simple houndoom by now," you deadpanned and just looked at the thing as it stared back at you with a scowl on it's face. ....It WAS just a simple houndoom. A pretty big and skinny houndoom, but it wasn't anything special. Not even a shiny. You tilted your head at it. "...You weren't here before." Your head then looked past Zen towards the desk. Yeah. He definitely wasn't here before when you literally swept under the desk. You were pretty sure you would've noticed a giant houndoom hunched under the desk like a hiding bandit. Then something faintly in the dark caught your eye.

Stacy rose a brow totally bewildered further as you literally crawled around the pokemon and under the desk. "Whaaat are you doing now? Aren't you forgetting we have a pokemon here that literally tried to attack you?!"

"Maybe there was a reason," you answered back grabbing the small round object in the dark and them retreating back out only to hold up a very, VERY familiar looking object in your hands eyes narrowing. "Maybe he had a reason to be angry at someone?"

Stacy's eyes widened as she stared at the pokeball in your hands before pointing. "Is that a pokeball? What's that doing here?"

"I don't know. It wasn't there when I cleaned earlier. It must've fallen out of the desk or something." You held up the ball to the dog pokemon who gave a grunt in response. "But this must belong to him because he was absolutely not here before."

"Ok...That actually makes sense to how he got into our apartment, but what I can't wrap by head around is why he's here. You don't think he could belong to Emerald do you?"

"Yeah. He probably does since she's the only one who lived in here, but the real question is why she left him. You don't think she forgot him do you?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Stacy's eyes turned from looking at the ruined purse to looking around the now clean room, to then looking back to the houndoom who seemed to calm down now but still scowled up at all of you....and her blue eyes squinted. "Hey, Y/n." You hummed. "Could you make your zangoose get off him?"

Now it was your turn to blink surprised. "What? But I thought you were the one saying he's the one who tried to attack us."

"Yeah, yeah. I know but-....Something seems a little off about him. It's just hard to tell because Zen's sitting on him."

You slowly stood before looking at the houndoom. He looked just like an average every day houndoom to you, but Stacy was a Nurse in training who came from a long line of Nurse Joys. So obviously she'd be able to surely spot something you couldn't. And there was no reason to NOT trust Stacy, so with a sigh you nodded. "Sure. Zen." One ear of the zangoose flicked up at you but otherwise he didn't look up at you. "Tell that pokemon that I don't know what his problem is, but we're not going to hurt him or anything."

He did as you asked and spoke- "Zang, zang. Goo goose. Zan." The Houndoom twisted his neck around to look Zen in the eyes as he spoke. You could tell the houndoom that yourself, but you had a feeling that if you had another pokemon tell him, maybe he'd be a bit more understanding.

"We're not the ones he should be angry at, so don't try to come at us again."

"Goose, goose. Zang."

"You're going to get off him now, but you tell him if he tries anything, I'm going to have you sit on him again."

"Zang, zang zang zang zang. ANG!! GOOSE!!"

Zen delivered the message maybe a bit more forceful than needed but it seemed to do the trick because the houndoom remained silent when Zen painfully slowly got off him and kept an eye on his movements when the dog pokemon sat up with a growl of annoyance. ...Still looked like a regular houndoom to you, but Stacy tilted her head sideways at the pokemon with a thoughtful expression in her eyes.

"....It's too skinny."

"What?"

You looked to her and she gestured to the houndoom. "I don't know a whole lot about houndooms, but I'm for certain it's not supposed to be that skinny. He's half the weight he should be."

"Really?" You took another look at it, and it did look a bit skinny. "Should we get it some food?"

Stacy slowly nodded. "That would be for the best...On second thought, I think we should take him to see my grandmother. She might be able to tell us more about him if there's anything else I'm missing."

"Yeah. If you think so."

You got your coat and still holding the pokeball, you made the pokemon follow Stacy out of the dorm room and all the way to the class building (along with Zen because you weren't risking this thing going berserk again). It wasn't hard to find Professor Joy. The retired Nurse Joy was found exactly where you thought she'd be, which was the Health/Pokemon Care classroom getting last minute preparations finished, but was shocked to high heavens to see the lot of you just waltz on in with a houndoom and Zangoose. You let Stacy explain the entire situation (leaving out the part where you both had to clean Emerald's room for her-) and gestured to the houndoom who still looked grumpy but more calmer, maybe because Zen was still staring dagger at him this entire time. Professor Joy took a moment to just look at all of you before you all watched her take out what could only be described as a medical kit- OH! Right. She was both the teacher and C.U.'s resident on campus nurse. The houndoom grumbled and grunted as she poked and prodded at it to see if it was alright, and you and Stacy exchanged glances every so often, until her grandmother pulled the houndoom onto what must've been a machine to weigh pokemon and the small lit up scale dialed up until it showed the numbers '62' on the screen. Professor Joy just looked at it for a long moment before back at the grumbling pokemon then looked at the both of you with a judgmental frown.

"This houndoom is fifthteen pounds underweight! How is it like this!?"

You looked surprised as Stacy shook your head. "We don't know. We just found it and brought it to you."

Professor Joy hummed and crossed her arms for a moment with an annoyed expression on her face. "Well then whomever owns this pokemon hasn't been feeding them the right food!"

"You mean the fire type food you told us in class?" you offered and she made a face.

"Yes, but not quite..." She rose a brow back at you. "Which one you currently has it's pokeball?" Stacy pointed at you. "Tell it to use flamethrower or some kind of fire attack."

"What!? In here? Are you sure?"

"Just do it." You weren't sure what she was doing but you looked between the two before wincing and telling the thing to use flame thrower, snapping your eyes shut to avoid seeing the fire damage it would cause- *COUGH!!*...You blinked. What the- The houndoom hacked and coughed, making a bunch of choking sounds before a couple weak plumes of smoke escaped it's throat. Just as Professor Joy leaned over to sniff at some of the smoke escaping it's mouth.

"EW! Granny, what are y-"

"I knew it." The professor huffed annoyed and scowled at the poor thing, "The smoke's not pungent."

"Uh..Doesn't all smoke smell bad?"

"Typically yes, but Houndoom's are different,'' she explained one hand patting the wincing pup's head. "The smoke that comes out of their mouth smells more pungent than most fire types due to the certain chemicals developed in their bodies to fuel their fire. But there's no bad smell or fire coming from it. No smell means no fire. No fire means little to no chemicals. And no chemicals means that it can't use any fire type moves to defend itself. That's most likely why it tried to bite you upon fire meeting rather than use it's flames."

You both could only stare at her in disbelief. "How could this have happened?!"

"Houndoom aren't native to Galar. So there's none of their natural food sources that grow here. Clearly whoever owned this houndoom didn't know or care to figure that out judging by the state it's in."

"Is it going to be ok?"

She sighed but nodded. "Yes. It's not malnourished thank goodness. But it'll need lots of food with nutrients to gain back what it lost. I'll write you a diet for it, but that's all I can offer. You'll be able to pick it up at the pokemon center later...." She then paused and gave a stare at Zen who was staring back at her, and then she rose a brow at it too. "...And while you're here I should take a look at your zangoose. It seems to have a few problems of it's own."

Now THIS surprised you because you looked to Zen and looked him up and down. He didn't seem in bad shape to you. You certainly fed him enough and took him out for exercise and everything else he needed to keep healthy. He didn't act like he was in bad shape either, surely if he needed something he would've bugged you until you found out what it was like whenever he was hungry. "But I make sure to take care of him."

"I'm not saying you're not," she explained calmly, "I'm saying that there might be things you're unaware of. Does he always walk upright with his claws out like he is now?"

"I-...Yes, he does but he always sharpens them when he needs to so it's not like they're dull."

"That's not normal zangoose behavior," she explained further looking at him more. "Unless they're attacking or feel threatened, they're usually traveling on all fours with their claws retracted which is why your zangoose is acting so strange."

"...Are you saying he's feeling threatened all the time then?"

"No. It's not that either. He seems unusually...calm....Would you mind if I examine him for a moment?"

"Uh.." You looked between Zen and her uncertain for a moment before shrugging. "I mean..yeah. If there's something wrong I'd rather know about it. Zen, hop up on the table there and behave."

You were concerned about the shocked face the professor gave when Zen listened to you and silently climbed up onto the small table. After a moment or two of just standing there, she went to work. Doing all the things she did with the houndoom but this time went further and had you make Zen let her examine his claws and you had to keep him from hissing at her when she took a closer look at the scars on either side of his body, but by the end of it the professor seemed less concerned and more confused.

"Well...You're right in that there's nothing wrong with him, but I do have to ask. Where on earth did you get him? Zangeese aren't native to Galar either."

"Actually I don't know where he came from exactly," you answered looking at Zen as he yawned widely, "I won him in a fair game last year and he's sorta been stuck with me since then."

"A fair game??...Did he exhibit any strange behaviors when you first got him? Usually zangeese aren't this calm."

You shrugged. You had no idea since you never owned a zangoose before so you wouldn't know. Maybe he once belonged to someone who just happened to train him real well? "I mean...He was really curious when I first let him out, but he's been pretty well behaved since then...Unless you count dumping out my backpack whenever he's hungry."

"AH! So that's it!" She smiled. "Then there's absolutely nothing wrong with his behavior." You gave her a 'what' making her chuckle. "I had a hunch but I couldn't be sure. I believe your particular Zangoose used to be a pack alpha."

"A pack what?"

"You see, zangeese have a particular behavior when it comes to living in the wild," she explained, "Zangoose usually run in packs, usually three to a pack but they can get up to even twelve in one pack. There's often one that's a singular leader known as an 'alpha'. You can usually tell an alpha from the other members of a pack from how they act." She gestured to Zen. "What you have here is ...or really was an alpha. His behavioral patterns are all there. Zangoose alphas act different than others in the pact because of their leadership status. They're much more calmer, and they often walk more often on their hind legs with their claws out to protect the pack in any instant, you said yours has always acted like that right?" You nodded. "Then there's nothing wrong with him. You're looking at a long time alpha of a pack if the behavioral patterns are ingrained that deeply. That wasn't him being curious when you all met either, that was him sizing you up as potential pack mates." She smiled. "With how well he gets along with you, I'd say he already accepted you as new family."

You stared at her for a long moment before looking back at Zen who yawned again and lifted his back leg to scratch his ear, a duck sound going off in your mind. .....ZEN WAS A FREAKING PACK LEADER!? Well, you guessed ex-pack leader now, but how the heck did he end up here then if he was once a long standing leader of a pack!? Did someone catch him and then abandon him like Emerald did with the houndoom?? Was he separated from his old trainer by accident? Was he just traded by the old man running the game? Or was there more unorthodox methods at play? ..But what she said made sense. It explained Zen's non aggressive nature well and why he seemed to be highly aware of his surrounding, like how he was instantly able to subdue the houndoom. He was protecting who he saw as what was essentially his new family. That thought made your heart break into a thousand pieces at the thought. What happened to take him away from his old family-

"I'll give you both the appropriate food for the houndoom and write down a strict diet for him," the professor stated making you blink back to her, "With it he should be back in shape in a months time. Although you should take him for regular check ups to the local pokemon center to keep track of the progress...As for your zangoose, I'd advise having him start walking on all fours a little more. It'll be better for his posture."

"I understand. ...Thanks."

At the end you and Stacy found yourselves walking back towards the dorm room in silence with both the houndoom and Zen walking next to the both of you, the houndoom seemed to be looking around very curiously around himself at the chilly snowy areas, a decent sized bag of dog food- Uh..Poke-food in your arms for the houndoom.

"Sooooo....What now?," Stacy asked concerning the houndoom. "She literally just abandoned her pokemon!"

"Hey. We don't know that," you...tried to give Emerald the benefit of the doubt even if you didn't want to. "Obviously she was in a rush, so she could've just forgotten him by accident. Maybe she'll come back for him."

"And if she doesn't?" You didn't have an answer for that. "I can't stay to take care of him. I'm only staying in town until graduation next week, then I'm taking an internship at Wyndon Hospital and I'm already busy preparing to move out."

"I can take care of him for a few days,'' you stated looking at him, "The school doesn't close until after Friday so I should be able to stay two more days in case she comes back."

"And if she doesn't come back? What will you do then?"

That was a good question. You couldn't release the houndoom if it wasn't native to Galar without it's natural food source, and you had no idea where Emerald was or where she went or where she came from. So there's little chance you could contact her or a family member to give the houndoom back, and if she didn't come back the poor thing would be abandoned. "....I'll go to one of the gym leaders." You settled on. That was your best bet. Being gym leaders, they had much more experience raising, battling, and being around all kinds of pokemon, plus they had already taken cared of the pokemon Sordward and Shielbert left abandoned in their gym before. Surely they'd be able to help at the very least. "If I can't figure out what to do then I ask them about it. They'll know more about this kind of thing than I can."

"Seems like a solid plan. Are you sure you can take care of him tho?"

"It'll be for two days at most, I can handle him. Besides if he gets aggressive I have Zen to help back me up on keeping him tame, but I don't think he'll try anything again if he's taken cared of. We'll be ok."

"Alright, but please be careful."

It's funny how fast two days can fly by. Stacy finished packing when you got back and later that day her grandmother and mother showed up to help move her out and then she too was gone. Leaving you all alone in the dorm room with just your pokemon for company. Silver stayed well far away from the houndoom and Zen continued to just glare at it sizing him up as it just stared grumpily off at nothing, until you gave it a giant heaping of whatever food the professor gave you. It was gone in a matter of minutes with how greedily the thing ate it up. Whoa...He must've been REALLY hungry then. Emerald did not return for the rest of that day. The next day went by, Thursday. Still no signs on Emerald, and the houndoom didn't cause anymore problems as you continued to feed it the amount needed. And then Friday came. The last day you all could stay until you'd be forced to leave. You had waited the entire day sitting there for any signs of Emerald to show up, but still nothing. By now it had been almost three whole days since Emerald left and left you with a mess and pokemon to care for, well there wasn't anything else you could do- I mean...What else COULD you do? Except doing what you said you would do it. You trudged through the snow with three pokemon on your heels and a small pair of clothes within your arms, you had to return them anyways you just hoped they wouldn't mind you dropping in on them. You had remembered the way distantly from when Gordie rescued you from the fountain, and thankfully you were able to find your way back to Ms. Melony's house and knocked on the front door after a moment's hesitation. There was silence for a moment before soft footsteps came from the other side and soon after the doorknob turned and the door opened, on the other side was a girl around Gloria's age with white hair and bright ice blue eyes. The teenager was smiling when she answered the door but upon seeing you blinked and gave a confused look.

"Um. Hi!," you greeted with a smile to her, "This is completely out of the blue but I was wondering if your mom or big brother was home?"

She blinked again, rose a brow, looked you up and down, and then squinted her eyes suspiciously. "....Why? Who are you?"

"I'm Y/n. You're brother pulled me out of the fountain in town?"

In an instant her face lit up in realization. "Oh! You're that girl Gordie was talkin' about!" She then smiled in an amused way. "Yeah. I remember you pretty well."

"Yeah." You felt embarrassment crept through you again. "Anyways, is any of the gym leaders here?"

She nodded chuckling now. "Yeah. You're just in time. We just finished 'family dinner time' so you didn't miss anyone."

You smiled. "That's great! Can we come in?"

She gave a sly smile before stepping aside. "Sure. Come right on in. Just don't forget to wipe your feet."

You thanked her before walking right on into the living room with Zen and the houndoom at your sides, Silver poking his head out of your backpack as you looked around the place but nothing could have prepared you for what Elsa said after she closed the door, and with a smirk only a teasing little sister could, turned towards the home.

"HEY MA!!," your pokemon winced at her loud lungs as her voice echoed throughout the house. "WE GOT A VISITER!!"

"Use your inside voice!," right on cue Melony's voice came from the kitchen area and only now you realized you could hear the clatter of dishes being moved around. "And who is it this late in the day? I already told the paparazzi no interviews!"

Elsa smirked. "IT'S GORDIE'S GIRLFRIEND!!"

Glass shatter sound effect. wave

...What-

The sound of dishes suddenly stopped, and it was dead quiet for a moment except for a few giggles from Elsa, until there was a quick shuffle of footsteps and who should you see poking their heads out of the entrance to the kitchen, but Gordie himself who looked confused but upon seeing you, now looked absolutely panicked and Melony later behind him calmer but confused to all the noise that was going on.

Melony blinked. "...Oh, it's you, Dear." She smiled politely. "How nice to see you again! Gordie, dear, don't stand there with your mouth open! Tell your girlfriend to come inside-"

"S-S-SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!," he quickly forced out panicked looking between you and his mother horrified to be seeing you standing in his mother's living room, although his red face wasn't convincing his family in the slightest. "W-What are you doin' here!?"

As your answer you held out the small pair of clothes. "I came to return the clothes your mom lent me. Thanks again by the way."

"Oh! Well thank you!" Melony happily took it from you with a smile. "How nice of you! Gordie, why didn't you tell me she was so nice?"

SMACK!!

You blinked at the sudden smacking sound as Gordie facepalmed himself red faced as his sister just giggled. "BECAUSE she's NOT my girlfriend! We're only acquaintances!"...And again he looked at you. "B-But thanks for returning my Ma's stuff...I guess."

"Yeah. But I'm not here for just that, I came to see you too."

Gordie's mind blanked. "W-WHAT!? I-I- You-...Why!?"

"One of my room mates abandoned a pokemon in her dorm room and I can't find her or anything." You decided to ignore any embarrassing topics stirred by Elsa by gesturing to the scratching houndoom. She was just trying to get a rile out of Gordie anyways. Nothing more. "I didn't know what else to do with it so I thought maybe you or your mom could help me out."

....Oh.

Oh. OH!!

He literally wanted to ram his head under a rock and never come back out from embarrassment, didn't help Elsa was still snickering at his reaction. "....Oh-"

"Oh, the poor baby," Melony cooed a hand on her cheek looking at the houndoom, "Whoever would do such a thing to the-..The-...What type of pokemon is that again?"

"A houndoom. It's a fire and dark type. I think they're from Kanto."

"Dark and fire?...That's a bit out of our expertise," Gordie mumbled taking a look at the houndoom, "...But I guess I can make a few calls and see what laws there are concerning abandoned pokeballs with pokemon still in them."

"I can make call up Kabu. Or Piers," Melony added, "They might be able to help with...something. They specialize in those types after all. Where can we be able to find you?"

"For now? Circhestor's hotel. I'm staying there until I can figure out what to do about the limited housing."

At this Gordie blinked. "Oh. You're not stayin' in your dorm anymore?"

"No. It's closed for summer break anyways and it won't be open again until mid August which is months from now."

"So you...didn't leave yet?"

"Well I guess I could, but it takes so long to travel anywhere from here and I don't want to take a long trip like that again until my second year's over with." You'd already been emailed the results of your tests scores and other than a C in math, your grades were pretty good enough for you to get to go onto your second and final year. "So I'm staying in the hotel until I can figure something out. Plus it gives me plenty of time to prepare for the next year, since I know some things I'll have to work on."

Gordie smiled a bit- Before quickly coughing and looking to the side. "Um...Y-Yeah. I- I mean- WE!! WE will get back to you o-once we make those calls! Haha! N-No need ta worry!" He smiled widely as you rose a brow. "Nothin' to worry your head off! J-Just do your own thing in the meantime!"

"Really? Thanks! You're actually a really nice guy!"

"Haha! Y-Yeah."

Long story short, you ended up leaving their home to go acquire yourself a room at the hotel with your pokemon, and as soon as the door clicked behind you silence rang between the family members standing there. Gordie sighed. Elsa looked at him amused and Melony looked at him and said something that would make Elsa howl in laughter once again.

"She's such a nice, Young Lady. You should invite her to dinner next Friday."

"MA! NO!!"

[annicaax]

Help! I have a new fave!!! PLUST's MIKOTO AMAMITSU

Mik's story was so good. Freakin hilarious and cute but also involved sentimental themes and emphasized on not giving up your dreams and aspirations. And how much it's comforting to work on your goals together with your partner/friends.

I love this title. It looks very promising so far. After reading Mikoto, I'd recommend it and the guy to everyone who has a similar taste. I'll list some of my forever favs (from Love 365) below so you'll know what I'm into.

MPD CTY, ASA, FILA, RMD, TLH... and PLUST (safe to add now. I think) So you can predict the themes I like now ;)

It took me 3hrs 47 min to binge Mikoto's story which I managed to do during different hours of the day. Spent about 240 hearts to unlock every heart choice and the SHE plus bonus track.

The art and the OST are gorgeous. I wish there's a steam release where I can buy the whole thing in one package with the OST. The OST is that good. It's so worth the effort (in reading a long story with a slow burn plot.)

(Oh this is a slow burn plot, mind you. And I love the stuff lol) The MC is fair enough. At times I cringed a bit, wondered why she wosn't protest when the guys casually get touchy with her. (Oh she does at times but she could grow more strong).

The fan service thing sounded unrealistic but it was still hilarious and cute. I was laughing falling in love not just with Mikoto but all the guys as a whole. They are all amazing. I think I'm gonna read every route. tho at present I have my eyes set on Mik, Wataru alone.

Guys like Claude aren't my type but I'm curious about him. I think Kotoha is a sweet guy, a tsundere. And Ryogo. Well I love childhood friend trouples so I'm gonna read his MS. He was super sweet in Mik story but the guy who stole the show (when it comes to side characters) was: Zeus.

The ThrOne guys. At first I didn't understand MC's obsession, specifically as they described the group is cold to its fans, but then I understood. That's not the scenario. Zeus has me very fascinated. I'll say I like him already. And his attachment to MC means we MAY get to see sparks flying between him and Mik. (I'd love to see Mik getting jealous haha)

Now I ramble about Mik here: Mikoto is a charmer but he's not overbearing or commanding. I only saw a trace of the pushy guys I played and liked in him. Just a trace. He apologizes when he's wrong. He thanks the MC. He encourages her!?

I expected Mikoto to be like Guy or more like Ikesen Nobunaga (both my faves) but he isn't.

Mik is so refreshing, so chill. Just like TLH Suzu was, captivating, with just one main story! He's blunt but not condescending. He's cheeky but with a sweet awkward side to him. He tries to shoulder his burden alone. The slow reveal of his true personality was a treat. I was rooting for him and MC! There were so many moments: them walking the ramp, rehearsing lines... Watching the show a pop star acted in, with the guy, and sharing a highfive? Haha. That's freakin cute. I love Mik and his Ducky.

So by the End of the SHE I'm super content and looking forward to MC and Mik's budding romance to blossom more. Which I expect to happen in MS 2. And anticipating more of the guys while hoping this title wouldn't take forever to get updated. (Well I understand making games isnt easy. I'm willing to wait tbh. But I see some title updates getting rolled out quickly, so)

Ugh! I went into rant mode there. Will post more content tomorrow. (Not much tho and not many spoilers. Don't wanna hit the game's earnings coz... well that's what I do. Be moderate. I think nicely done posts/shared stuff actually boost sales and earn more fans. THAT is what I try to do on my blog. Share. Share. But be nice.)

[roseofblogging]

Back to Treviso Rook went. She'd promised to help Lucanis after she'd left him to defend his city while she defended hers, so the least she could do was help him with what was on his mind.

((All previous updates were in a long reblog chain. That got too unwieldy, so henceforth, updates will be done in separate posts. Check my Rose Plays Veilguard tag for all of them.))

Zara had been a thorn in the Antivan Crows' side in Treviso for what seemed like a while, and her assassination of Lucanis's grandmother--and whoever sold him out to her, leading to his imprisonment and the forceful insertion of a demon into him--meant Lucanis had business to settle with her.

Rook still had some uneasy feelings about the Crows. She'd heard unsavory rumors about them, and while she knew newspapers can be bought by the powerful--the Shadow Dragons in Minrathous had to put up with that a lot--the rumors have been very bad. Everyone she interacted with in Treviso was lovely, unlike the worst of what she'd heard about the Crows (you name it, they've done it), so...maybe it was different in Treviso specifically? She couldn't bring it up to Lucanis or Teia, though. Especially not after so many people in that city still begrudged her. So, it would have to be another unasked question left on her mind.

Soon after arriving in Treviso through the eluvian mirror, Lucanis and Rook found Illario, Lucanis's cousin, waiting for them on their way to ambush Zara. Illario wasn't supposed to know the details about their attack, and yet he was there. The guy was a Crow, but not so much in the contract killer sense that Lucanis was. Illario seemed more of the "charm them off their feet for information" sort, but something about him rubbed Rook the wrong way, and she could give him the benefit of doubt so many times, but she also couldn't pinpoint what she didn't like about him. Maybe she just didnt like him? Something about the way he begrudged Lucanis, possibly some long held jealousy issues. It got on her nerves seeing that so plain on Illario's face. Still, Rook could understand him wanting revenge on the person who killed his grandmother, so she was fine with him accompanying them, but Lucanis shot that down quickly. He even looked hurt at Rook suggesting it. Oops.

But Illario backed down, and so the group went through the remains of the Chantry in Treviso, slaughtering Venatori all along the way--hey, that's Rook's specialty! ((no, seriously; I get a bonus vs. the Venatori))--until they got past all of Zara's guards, past her favorites, and through a hall of rotting corpses and fresh blood to eventually find the woman herself in an open-air bath filled with blood.

After a long fight, Zara staggered, having to support herself against a pillar as her skin had turned pallid and wrinkled and her hair having gone from black to white. She was so much older in such little time, a clear sign she'd been using blood magic to live longer. She was such a stereotype, ugh.

But Illario showed up when Lucanis went to finish her, because of course he did. He insisted this was Crow business, and Rook wondered if he felt more entitled to killing Zara because Lucanis had been imprisoned in the Ossuary for so long. Some kind of exchange passed between Zara and Illario--not anything Rook properly caught or understood, but enough to make her suspicious that perhaps they knew each other beyond "I killed your grandmother and your comrades" sort of way.

Unfortunately for Illario, Spite took that exact moment to seize control of Lucanis, but it was terrifying. Spite blamed Zara for its own inprisonment within the assassin, and Spite, well, he was a demon of spite! What else was there to expect?

Rook had seen glimpses of Spite before--she knew the purple glow that happened to Lucanis's eyes was the tell--but it was never this violent, this extreme before, even when Spite had tried to run from the Lighthouse into the Crossroads via the eluvian. Spite-in-Lucanis lunged for Illario to kill him and get him out of the way, and Illario knocked him out...with blood magic.

Illario wasn't a mage. Zara was, and a very powerful blood mage at that.

...That couldn't be a coincidence...right?

Illario fled, refusing to help Rook carry Lucanis to safety. He spat out some fear-tinged words about his cousin needing to stay away from Treviso and away from their family. She couldn't blame him. Neither could Lucanis, once he came to back at the Lighthouse.

But now Lucanis admitted to Rook--and more importantly, to himself--that Spite was a true problem that needed to be dealt with next.